Here is the latest Lego collection I have completed, the pacman!

Previously, I got to make a typewriter:

And a supermario television:

All of these were presents from my brother. They make me feel nice and cozy about my childhood - those moments playing with Lego blocks with him. There is no difference in my love for Lego in my 30s and then, but making Lego now did make me reflect about a few things.

These age 18+ Legos are designed for adults who grew up with Legos. Following the instructions (that are as thick as a book) is a perfect example of Daniel Dennett's 'competence without comprehension' in practice. It's not difficult to follow the instructions - each step provides clear guidance on what blocks should be stuck together. However, most of the time, I'm doing things without knowing why or what they are - I execute these tasks with precision, using my adult dexterity, leaving very little room for error. I'm only given 'how', and I get to see 'what' and 'why' at the end if I'm lucky. It's somewhat therapeutic though. It turns out it's nice to just follow the orders mindlessly!

Funnily enough, I don't ever remember following a Lego instruction book like this when I was young. Possibly because we just had a massive container which hat was a jumble of all Lego blocks and collections, at the maximum entropy level. There were no instructions, no script to follow. There was no predetermined concept; we would build anything we wanted, often just making it up along the way and seeing where it led. I was free to define all the 'what', 'why', and 'how' in the process. Or, even better, I didn't have a goal! Not having a goal was a perfectly fine way to play and spend hours with Lego.

Being able to engage in the spacetime with inspiration coming from oneself seems like a special thing that children do so well.

That said, I recently experienced Lego making with an 8-year-old kid - my niece. There was a nice open-to-all playground event in a public square in Paris, France, and we managed to build some random flying vehicle(?) for ourselves. She kindly supplied me with lots of transparent ceiling blocks (you know these are rare and special!), which was very sweet of her.

Going back to my 7-hour Lego building experience in my mid-30s, I can absolutely say I thoroughly enjoyed the time spent on building these Lego collections. It does involve some repetitive, labor-intensive tasks to get to the end, but it's also a gentle reminder that you love it even more because it takes your time and effort. Making something that takes something from you, after all, is so wonderful.

I find myself more afraid of everything than when I was seven, particularly about dismantling the Lego creations that I've invested so much time and effort in, so those collections are likely to stay as they are. And yet, I appreciate Lego's offerings to my age, albeit in a somewhat different taste - a nostalgia for one's childhood, a humble realization of what it means to no longer be as free as a child, and yet still engaging in a peaceful, meditative activity that allows me to forget about life's problems. It's nice to be able to relish moments with the same building blocks that I loved and adored.