Five Steps to Feel Like a Kid
Part two of three reflections on life in Vientiane, Laos, while working as a Sustainability Intern at Mekong Timber Plantations (MTP)
These days I’ve been feeling a bit more like a kid than usual. I hope to always embrace a child-like sense of curiosity and wonder, but lately I’ve been fortunate to dive a little deeper into this state here in Laos. Consequently, I’ve put together this five-step guide to embracing the inner kid in all of us. Side effects may include: excitement over mundane moments, a mild to severe sensation of “fresh eyes”, the inability to speak if not in question form, and tendency to feel very present.
*Disclaimer: this post is long but I’m back at Annabelle’s with another almond croissant and this situation seems to breed many thoughts. Just read the subtitles if you want to gist, cheers.
1) Learn by Living
When you’re young, even the simplest moments are learning opportunities: eating, talking, observing others. It’s been fun to sample some different foods like blood jelly soup, spicy papaya salad (followed by two glasses of milk to tame the burn), and South African meats cooked over the grill at field camp. And like a kid, I’ve been stoked on the littlest treats like getting locally-made frozen yogurt at lunch with my colleagues.
Being surrounded by a language other than English is also wildly refreshing, and a welcome challenge when communicating at work with a language barrier. While I don’t see Lao fluency in my near future, my boss and I sometimes speak in French, and Spanish Duolingo is my new favourite video game! Fingers crossed this helps my brain flexibility return to preteen levels.
Lastly, I’ve felt like a kid when observing the talented MTP team at work. I’ve had the opportunity to assist with environmental testing out on the Hinboun river, and watch a land-surveying drone launch at one of our plantations. Even walking through home hardware stores when shopping for workers’ personal protective equipment is a chance to make subtle contrasts as to how businesses here operate differently than at home.
Just by going through the motions — eating, chatting, and people watching — I feel like I am constantly learning.
2) Play!!!
This one’s my FAVOURITE. Before kids become useful at literally anything, they master the art of play. At university, I was fortunate to experience the joys that come with prioritizing time at the climbing gym over homework. Here in Laos, I’ve had more time to think about the crucial role of play in life at any age. Recently I’ve been fortunate to have folks to play ultimate Frisbee (I am really not ultimate at it but super enjoy sprinting across the field) and badminton with, and was so lucky the owners of a fried ice cream shop in Luang Prabang let me play around on their ukulele for hours. Movement outside is my ideal form of play, and have had the great pleasure of sunrise yoga and river runs to get me feeling grounded again.
I think the most important element of play is challenge. Sports have physical and emotional trials, as well as constraints, baked in. Children are good at making up their own stories, rules, and obstacles to be overcome during free play. I think true joy only results from some series of real or fabricated struggles, that require effort and creative problem-solving to reach the end goal. This process comes naturally to kiddos, and I have realized it will be central to my travel style moving forward.
On recent weekend adventures, I’ve noticed how some SEAsia backpackers seem to be following the same route of prescribed tourist destinations, buying into a similar package of activities at each one. Consequently, I’m thinking my travel philosophy moving forward is that I want to experience new places while centred around a purpose such as work, a form of movement, or learning. Setting some intention, and then having the freedom to create my own memories and appreciate the subtle cultural distinctions of a destination over time.
3) Embrace Knowing Nothing
Most of what I’m learning these days is how little I know now, and I love it! Kids are fearless triers and unapologetically curious, and this is a model I greatly support. My very trusting boss at MTP has let me try my hand at data management and analytics, researching livelihood improvement strategies, and starting to brainstorm how MTP should move forward with their smallholder partnership scheme. It’s been fascinating and I’m so grateful for the opportunity to do work I find meaningful — while also building skills and knowledge in these areas — and for an internet full of Excel tutorials.
The rate at which you change and grow during childhood is astronomically faster during childhood than any other phase of life. You know you know nothing, so you ask an endless stream of questions to those with more experiences under their belts. I have the privilege of working with MTP’s Head of Sustainability, who will happily dive into any conversation topic under the sun. I hope to keep up this pace of learning for many years to come by aligning myself with more awesome (and patient) mentors who allow me to ask far more questions than I answer.
In conclusion, to feel like a kid, embrace being a beginner. It’s an exciting way to be, and luckily there will always be something else to know nothing about.
4) Be Scared and Vulnerable
I am STRESSED about Dengue Fever. There’s an outbreak here in Laos, and anyone I’ve talked to recently is probably annoyed by how many times I’ve mentioned my fears about this unpreventable and untreatable mosquito-borne disease. Heck! I’m naturally very risk-averse (I love life too much to not take every precaution that’s available for me to control…really framing myself as a fun gal hey?) so this threat has definitely put me on edge. Haven’t thought twice about Malaria or Japanese Encephalitis, but “bonebreak fever” makes me want to curl up indoors and baby myself.
Ok, reset, time to quit worrying about things I can’t control. My dad used to quote this one scene from Bridge of Spies, and it’s entirely relevant to most situations:
While my relationship with risk has been evolving, my perspectives on vulnerability have also shifted. While driving back to field camp a few Saturdays ago, my coworkers and I ended up in the situation as first responders at a motorcycle accident. We did what we could with a simple first aid kid, but the two injured boys needed much further medical attention. The nearest hospital was an hour away, their families seemed to take forever on the phone deciding who would come pick them up, and the ambulance we thought was on its way never turned up. This made me realize how invincible I feel in Canada knowing help is never far away, our health care system means medical attention is financially accessible, and rescuers are protected from liability should they attempt to help in an emergency.
Lastly, in addition to physical vulnerability, there is also emotional vulnerability. I believe kids are especially good at this, speaking their mind and telling you exactly what they feel, but like many things is certainly easier said than done. A wise woman (Cansbridge Fellow ’19, Izzy Hazan) recently wrote an important blog post about the happiness that results from one’s thoughts, words and actions all being in harmony.
Youngsters do this naturally because they don’t know any other way to live, so shouldn’t this inspire us all to be real with ourselves about:
- What I (don’t) know/need
- How I feel about myself/others/the world
- When I (don’t) know enough to know how to feel
Isn’t that what life is all about? A series of connections and experiences and reactions? Wild…digressing.
5) Dare to Dream
The final stage in this five-step guide to feeling like a kid is possibly the most important: dare to dream. I’ve had more alone time in these past few weeks than probably in the past few years, and as a result I’ve been fortunate to let my mind wander as a result. It’s led to the formation of some sweet dreams, and also the realization that it’s ok to form ideas about exciting future possibilities without being attached to them.
There’s a home video in my basement from when my brother and I were young, and it shows me stating my aspirations to a career as a ballerina and my brother saying he wanted to be “Thomas the Choochoo Train”. Needless to say, neither of these paths were followed, and I’ve never thought twice about that. I feel like adults stray away from fully entertaining fantastic thoughts about hopes for the future, fearing that would equate to commitment. Kids, in one moment, can see themselves as a method of transportation, and the next day declare they actually are going to be a veterinarian in space. They are called dreams, not plans. And they’re pretty darn fun to come up with.
Tiny humans also don’t keep their dreams to themselves. They announce them, constantly! Who cares if your Tuesday fantasy to hike across Patagonia is replaced with a bike trip through France by Sunday. Catching dreams and then letting them go isn’t a failure or sign that you’ll never actually follow through on one, it means you’ll be primed to jump at the right one when the opportunity arises.
I think a dream requiring immediate gratification can otherwise be summed up as a craving, and I’ve been letting myself have quite a few of those lately. If a child wants ice cream or pizza, they’ll try their hardest to get their hands on some. I relate to this on a deep level, but not only in relation to greasy Western food. Chats with friends often turn to brainstorming adventure ideas for the fall, so while I feel very present in my experience in Laos, I also know I’ll be thrilled to be back in Canada in September. One oversimplified Buddhist idea is that unhappiness stems from craving people/things/status. While I agree that longing for what you have no control over can breed frustration, I’ve been recently quite entertained by craving experiences I’m confident I can make happen a month from now. This includes time with my favourite people, enabled by items that I can reasonably attain, like bikes, and almond croissants. I think the key here is to realize when I can have them, so those thoughts do not take away from living the current moment to the fullest.
I’ve felt many ways during my time so far here in Laos — free, anxious, itchy, stimulated, sick, hopeful — and most fun of all, like a kid again. Learn by living, play, embrace knowing nothing, be scared and vulnerable, dare to dream, and you can too.
