Sticky notes are great, but have you tried LEGO®?

My office floor is covered in LEGO® bricks.

Mini figurines. Baseplates. Half-built metaphors scattered across the rug. Ziploc bags of wheels and antennae waiting to be re-sorted. My bookkeeper is starting to question how many LEGO receipts is too many.

Honestly, I get it.

But these aren’t just toys. They’re tools — and I’ve just come back from a facilitation session that reminded me exactly why I use them.

Last week, I had the privilege of working with a national, fully remote team who rarely get to be in the same room together. The kind of team that spans provinces and time zones, and carries a whole lot of complexity in their day-to-day work.

They were asking big questions: about how they show up for each other, how they communicate, and how they want to grow as a team. So we used LEGO® Serious Play® to get out of our heads and into our hands.

We built models of trust. Misalignment. Courage. We told stories with bricks that couldn’t have been told with words alone. And in the process, we surfaced insights that were real, resonant, and deeply human.

Because here’s the thing: when the ideas are on the table (literally), it’s easier to talk about what’s working… and what’s not. The focus shifts from people to models. From blame to possibility.

And what you end up with isn’t just a bunch of sculptures. It’s shared language. Mutual clarity. A stronger foundation for the work ahead.

I’m still buzzing from the session — and from the quiet reminder that the right tools don’t just help us work better. They help us connect more honestly, reflect more deeply, and build conversations that actually go somewhere.

Tools of the Trade

Not everything that helps a conversation flow looks like a “tool”. Sometimes it looks like a colouring sheet. Or a duck. Or a fidget toy passed quietly between hands.

But these small things matter.

In almost every session I facilitate, I bring a stack of colouring sheets. Not as filler or busywork; but as an invitation. To soften the edges. To help folks settle in. To give their hands something to do while their minds and hearts begin to open.

It’s amazing what shifts when we allow people to arrive on their own terms. Colouring helps ease anxiety, ground energy, and create a sense of calm — especially in spaces where people are holding a lot. (And let’s be honest: these days, most of us are.)

Another favourite: LEGO® ducks.

In a recent strategic planning session with a board in British Columbia, I kicked things off by asking everyone to build a duck. Same bricks, same instructions — but the results were wildly different. Some were sleek. Some were scrappy. Some didn’t look much like ducks at all.

And then we talked about governance.

About how groups bring different assumptions to the same question. About how clarity, diversity, and interpretation all show up in how we build, lead, and make decisions. That tiny duck helped us name things that would have been hard to say out loud otherwise. And once the tension was on the table, the strategy work started to flow.

And then there are the fidget toys. Spinners, squishies, pipe cleaners, silicone pebbles… Not distractions. Not rude. Not something to be embarrassed about.

Just… support.

Because some people process while moving. Some people listen better when their hands are busy. And all of us benefit when the room makes space for different ways of being.

Someone asked me recently if I’m the kind of facilitator who brings toys into a room full of adults.

The answer? Absolutely, I am.

Not just because they’re fun (though they are), but because they help people show up more fully.

These aren’t “extras”. They’re intentional choices. Ways to say: You don’t have to twist yourself into someone else’s version of focus in order to belong here. You can show up as you are.

The tools matter, but so does the tone

Every time I enter a room, I’m thinking about the outcomes we’re there to shape: the strategy to clarify, the insights to gather, the action to map out. But I’m also thinking about something else:

…What’s the energy I want people to feel as they walk in?
…What kind of space are we building together?
…What do I want people to remember when they look back on this gathering?

Because even in the most outcomes-driven session, the experience is the work.

Whether we’re building models, filling in worksheets, or just sitting in the quiet hum of shared reflection, the vibe matters. It shapes what people are willing to share, how they collaborate, and what they take with them when they go.

No matter what room I’m in, or where I am in the country, the questions I hear are often the same:

…How do we move forward when everything’s shifting?
…What do we need to hold on to? what’s ready to be let go?
…How do we keep showing up when the answers aren’t clear?

These aren’t just strategic questions. They’re human ones.

And when we get them on the table — in all their awkward, unresolved, beautiful complexity — something shifts. We remember that gathering isn’t just about productivity. It’s about making meaning together.

Conversation starters

Want to spark some reflection on your own, or with your team? Here are a few prompts we’ve been carrying with us lately:

• What helps you feel grounded and present in a group setting? What throws you off?

• What kind of energy do you want to bring into the spaces you’re part of this season?

• When was the last time you built something — literally or metaphorically? What did you learn from the process?

• Think about a gathering that felt really good. What made it work? What made you feel safe, seen, or lit up?

A final thought

There’s something about LEGO® that invites us to try again. To rebuild. To keep tinkering until the shape feels right.

Facilitation is a lot like that — a practice of arranging, adjusting, and staying open to what wants to take form. It’s not about snapping the pieces into place quickly. It’s about making space for surprise. For connection. For emergence.

Every room I step into lately reminds me: people are hungry for that kind of space. The kind where ideas are allowed to shift shape. Where clarity comes through doing. Where presence matters as much as product.

Wherever you are as this month closes, whether you’re mid-build, starting over, or just sitting in the mess of loose pieces — I hope you give yourself a little time. A little grace. And the reminder that something meaningful can still take shape from here.

Thanks, as always, for being here.

Until next time,
Lindsay