It was one of those lazy afternoons, and I found myself sitting under this massive tree in the park. You know the kind—the kind that looks like it’s been standing there forever, spreading its giant arms out like it’s holding secrets from centuries ago. I wasn’t really doing much, just zoning out, watching the world go by.

Atul Tyagi (Soulful and Sociopolitical Writer).

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6 days ago

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And then I saw them—two kids, a boy and a girl, probably around seven or eight. They were playing around the tree, laughing their heads off. The kind of laugh that comes from your gut, the one that echoes and makes you wonder when you last laughed like that.

At first, I didn’t pay much attention. Kids laugh, they play—it’s normal. But then the boy tripped and went flying straight into a puddle of mud. I froze for a second, thinking he was about to start crying. But nope! Instead, he looked at himself, covered in mud, and started laughing even harder. Like proper laughing. And the girl? Oh, she didn’t waste a second. She joined in, pulled him up, and they both stood there covered in mud, laughing like they just won the lottery.

That moment? It hit me. Like a proper smack-in-the-face realization. Their laughter wasn’t fake or forced. They weren’t trying to prove anything, weren’t worried about who was watching. They were just happy. Pure, unfiltered, raw happiness.

And then I thought—when did we lose this? Somewhere along the way, we grow up and think we need to be perfect. Smart. Famous. Successful. And in the process, we bury that little child inside us. The one who knows how to laugh like nothing else matters. The one who doesn’t care if they fall in the mud because falling is part of playing.

I realized this is what true healing looks like. It’s not about looking good on the outside or ticking off society’s boxes of success. It’s about being whole on the inside. It’s about reconnecting with that innocent, vibrant energy we had as kids. That’s the energy people can feel. That’s the energy that heals others, not just you.

Here’s the kicker: not everyone famous or powerful has that energy. Most don’t, to be honest. They might look successful on the outside, but inside? They’re still carrying wounds. But when someone has truly healed, when they’ve embraced their inner child—that’s when their energy becomes magnetic. That’s when people don’t just like being around them—they feel them. Their love, their innocence, their joy—it’s contagious.

So, as I sat there under that tree, watching those kids laugh like they owned the universe, I decided something. I want that energy. Not fame, not power, not “success.” I want the kind of energy that heals, inspires, and makes people feel alive. I want to love like those kids laughed—with all my heart, without holding back.

When I got up to leave, the boy and girl looked at me and waved, big muddy grins on their faces. I waved back, grinning like an idiot myself. And for the first time in a long time, I felt something real—a spark of that pure, unfiltered joy those kids reminded me was still inside.