LEGO and how it can help with my disabilities

1. It helps with my dexterity and hand pain. I learned years ago with my back how important it is to keep moving simply. My first Physio Therapist constantly said, “Motion is lotion.” that is like a broken record in my head now. Building, taking apart, and sorting bricks keeps my arthritic fingers moving, and when I’d expect it to get painful after hours of play, my hands are fine, and I believe it helps!
2. It helps with my anxiety. Organizing things calms me and gives me a sense of control when I might otherwise be obsessing over what I cannot control. Taking apart and sorting new kits into my little storage drawers is immensely soothing for me. Also, it connects me to my childhood, a time in my life when I didn’t have all the adult responsibilities, and there’s respite just in that.
3. It takes my mind off the pain. The art of coping is a well-known trick people who deal with pain know all about. The art of “getting lost” or getting so caught up in what you’re doing that you can almost forget that pain for a moment or a few. Sometimes the pain is too much, but LEGO does often help it feel better.
4. It energizes me when I’m tired. Learning that when my fatigue is bad and I feel like I can’t do anything, I should try to work on one of my LEGO creations a little and see how it goes. Most often, the creativity and joy of it give me a little surge of energy. Sometimes it means I play instead of lying in bed, and sometimes it gives me enough energy to go on and do a chore in my house.
5. It helps with cognitive function. I often get brain fog with my fibromyalgia, and following directions to build a new kit, sorting and organizing disassembled kits, envisioning one of my freestyle builds and executing that vision all help me focus my mind and think more clearly.
6. It replaces what’s lost. Chronic illness and chronic pain steal from us. It could be forcing us to cancel plans, or it could be “cancelling” entire hobbies that we are just unable to do anymore (I can no longer run and am limited in activities that involve sitting, like attending movies and sporting events). Building my new “place” was a great substitute for travel when I was unable in 2020, and ultimately it became a hobby I could do despite pain and fatigue, as well as a social activity I could do with my friends in the comfort and accessibility of my own home.

It reminds me of everything else I can still do. LEGO reminds me that I don’t need to wait around for inspiration to be creative; I need to start putting pieces together, and creativity will meet me there. LEGO reminds me that when I feel too tired to do something, I should try anyway, and when it’s something I genuinely enjoy, I’ll most likely find the energy. LEGO helps me with my true passion–writing–by reminding me how creativity and energy will come as long as I bother to show up. And it doesn’t just remind me of what I can still do despite disability; it reminds me of what I can still do despite the world. I stopped playing with LEGO as a kid because I thought I should, not because it was no longer fun, and it truly is still fun! I have enough restrictions due to my chronic conditions. I’ve decided not to add even more restrictions by caring about what’s “appropriate” or what other people think.