Kids are weirdos. It’s just natural, because they haven’t developed all the neural connections for cynicism, self-doubt, pessimism, and all the other lovely little spices and snips of puppy dog tails that make up the adult human condition. Children can easily and quickly shift from mundane reality to a world where their toys are alive and have distinct personalities, tiny dinosaurs live under their bed, and their grandfather knows the Easter Bunny personally. “Magical thinking”, much like walking around pantsless, is an endearing trait in children that’s shunned for adults. Every new drawing is a potential work of art. Every new song is a potential chart-topper. They invent games. They tell stories. The imagine. They narrate. They experiment.
To reactivate your childhood brain, you can make time to embrace its simplicity in an environment where nobody will frown at your pantslessness. It’s even better if that environment removes you from the distracting crap of everyday life. Children don’t worry about their email. Children don’t freak out at a pile of dirty laundry. Children just play.
Of course you have to worry about all that adult stuff, but as an adult, you have the ability (responsibility) to set aside time to not worry about it for a while. Put down the phone, turn off the computer and TV, and get to it. Play a guitar. Make something with clay. Build something out of wood. Carve a shrub into the shape of a dinosaur. Anything like that.
And you know what, go pantsless if you want.