Meet the AFOL: The Adult Fans of Lego. And yes, they play with Lego.

Adult Fans of Lego build their way to serenity

My wife is standing over me, shaking her head. She has just returned home from a two-day business trip to find that I’ve not made any dinner, and the house is a mess.

“Talk to the hand,” I tell her, holding up a crescent of yellow plastic. “I’m in the zone.”

Earlier that afternoon, I cracked open a box of Lego. Crack is the operative word — after four decades of abstinence, I have realized that Lego is addictive.

“I’ve become an AFOL (Adult Fans of Lego),” I explain to my wife. “Yes, you have,” she says, mishearing me.

Lego is now riding the mindfulness wave, as adults turn to it as a form of nostalgic creative expression. Its website has an adult section where AFOLs can buy complex kits, costing more than $1,000.

The community has its own meetings and internet forums.

They build models of the Titanic, and create full-sized, fully functioning slot machines. They have their own charity, Fairy Bricks, which provides Lego for children in hospital.

AFOLs can be divided into three tribes: set builders, free builders and those who do a bit of both.

Set builders buy the boxed sets, ranging from tiny vehicles with fewer than 100 pieces, to feats of engineering, such as the 6,000-piece Hogwarts Castle.

Free builders design their own creations, which are displayed at conventions and on Instagram.

Stock controller Daniel Jarvis, 37, has a “build room” in the loft of his Wiltshire home, where 1.5 million bricks are sorted by colour and type. “I’m not as organized as some,” he admits, “because I still enjoy rummaging through a box, looking for a specific piece. I find it relaxing.”

This is a recurring theme among AFOLs. The Lego Group has been quick to capitalize, launching Lego Forma sets to help adults “disconnect from the stress of life.”

I was ready to be cynical about Lego’s apparent mental health benefits. But then I spoke to James, a teacher.

“Four years ago, my wife and I lost two children through miscarriage,” he tells me. “I supported my wife and bottled everything up. Then, out of nowhere, I became ill with depression, post-traumatic stress disorder and OCD. To try to calm down, I reached for the Lego I used to play with as a child.”

It worked.

“It gave me a break from what was going on in my mind,” explains James, now father to an 18-month-old.