Luke Blackwood, Clinic Director & Clinical Psychologist, Creative Director of Game Development, BPsych, MPsych (Clin), MAPS. Luke is the founding Clinical Psychologist at Full Potential Psychology and the creator of Legend Land, the Minecraft therapy world which has over 30 gamified session activities from cognitive behaviour therapy and acceptance and commitment therapy. Initially designed to support divergent people, Legend Land has since expanded its scope to support emotional regulation, friendships and relationships, flexibility in thinking, and self-esteem in children and adolescents. Luke has the mission of making therapy fun, removing the barriers to people accessing treatment, and destigmatising mental health and the expression of emotions.
All my clients loved Minecraft
I’m a psychologist by education but I also worked with game design, events and media. I’m raising a son who’s 15 now and who loves video games. We lost our home because of the Russian war. And since the Russian full-scale invasion I saw Minecraft in a different way. Because Ukrainian children who were under occupation, and children on the outside, and children who had already become refugees, could come together and support each other. They could build their own world together. And now Ukrainian children are more vulnerable, and lonely, and traumatized, and we have millions of refugee children in different countries. And one of the results of all this is that children spend more time online and gaming.
I’m looking for examples of how we can use video games for good, and I’m also developing my own project for supporting Ukrainian refugee children. And I found out that there are a lot of interesting and creative things happening in Australia! I’m also interested in narrative therapy and discovered The Dulwich Centre in Australia thanks to the Ukrainian Narrative Union. And I was absolutely amazed by Legend Land. How did you come up with the idea to create this? And what exactly are you doing today?
Thank you for sharing your background. It’s clear that your journey into this space was shaped by unique challenges, and I can see the immense value in what you’re doing.
When children experience drastic changes in their world, having a space where they can escape, connect with others, and feel a sense of control becomes incredibly important.
I also really resonate with your interest in narrative therapy. Last year, I focused my professional development entirely on this approach. I was fortunate to have one of the university lecturers here supervise me, helping me explore how narrative therapy principles could be integrated into a game—not just in terms of the game having its own storyline, but also in allowing players to incorporate their own personal narratives into the experience.
To answer your question, Legend Land began about five years ago while I was working face-to-face in a private psychology clinic that specialises in supporting neurodivergent children and their families.
At the time, I had also been recovering from an injury. Before that, I worked in youth detention, supporting young people—many with trauma backgrounds—who weren’t necessarily seeking therapy. Early on, I learned that if I didn’t engage them through their own interests, I wouldn’t get through to them at all. Many of these kids wouldn’t open up, and some had creative ways of letting me know they had no interest in talking to a psychologist.
That passion for engagement translated into my work with autistic children at the clinic after my injury. I had been told I couldn’t return to youth detention until I was able to run again, but my surgeon advised me it would take at least nine months. While recovering, I took on a new role and also decided to launch my own online clinic. Since I had about three months before I could even start at the new job, I began planning.
One day, I had a thought: what if I engaged my clients through a Minecraft server?
My clinic was originally designed to support children in rural and remote Australia, where access to psychological services is limited due to the country’s vast geography. Initially, I planned to work only with children over the age of 12, as engaging younger children—especially neurodivergent ones like a seven-year-old autistic and ADHD person can be incredibly difficult in an online setting. Sustaining their attention for even 10 minutes, let alone a full 50-minute session, is a challenge.
I decided to trial the idea with some of my clients at the clinic, and one particular case stood out. One of my early clients had been diagnosed with a language disorder. But when we entered Minecraft—his favourite game—everything changed. Inside the game, he took on the role of the expert, guiding me through the world, explaining things in detail, and using complex, multi-syllabic words that he typically struggled with in regular conversations.
It was a pivotal moment. His difficulties weren’t solely due to a language disorder, the primary issue was actually anxiety. When he was placed in an environment where he felt safe, engaged, and confident, his language skills improved significantly. His diagnosis was reconsidered, and it became clear that anxiety was the primary barrier rather than an inherent language deficit.
From that point, I began developing a dedicated Minecraft therapy world. Initially, it had just three activities: one focused on teaching kids about anxiety, another on emotional regulation, and a third as a free-play environment to encourage creativity and exploration.
As I worked with more clients, the project evolved. I launched my practice with these three foundational worlds, knowing I had about eight weeks of content prepared. My goal was to stay ahead of my clients, developing new activities every two weeks, building out a structured treatment plan rooted in mindfulness-based cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT).
Fast forward five years, and Legend Land has expanded far beyond what I originally imagined. We’ve now gone through five major iterations, each more advanced than the last. The world has grown so large and intricate that a full update takes nearly a year to complete.
One of the key developments has been improving game mechanics that reinforce therapy concepts. We introduced custom items and on-screen objectives, making it feel more like a game rather than a psychologist directing the session. These mechanics allow players to actively engage in their therapeutic journey rather than passively receiving guidance. The shift from instruction to exploration has been a game-changer—literally and figuratively.
Our clinic now has a team of nine other psychologists (Full Potential Psychology Team), and while my primary role focuses on game development and clinic operations, I still see a few clients each week. We primarily support children in rural and remote Australia, as well as those who have what we call demand-avoidant therapy profiles or children who have struggled to engage in traditional therapy but love Minecraft. Roughly 50% of our clients are from rural and remote areas, while the other 50% have previously seen one or two psychologists without success and have come to us seeking a different approach.
In addition to our private therapy server, which is accessible only to our clients during scheduled sessions, we’ve also been developing a multiplayer server called Legend Land: Unlock Your Magic. We’ve been working on this for over a year and a half, and our goal is to make it publicly accessible. Unlike the private therapy server, this version can be accessed by anyone at any time and features a fully developed storyline alongside a vast open world with built-in therapeutic activities.
🎥 Watch a preview of Legend Land here:
Legend Land Multiplayer Server – Full Potential Psychology
One of the key features of the multiplayer version is a cast of seven unique characters, each designed to mirror different psychological profiles and learning styles. Players interact with characters who experience perfectionism, anxiety expressed as anger and control, rigid thinking, and other psychological traits that scaffold learning and social-emotional development.
The initial version of this multiplayer experience is being released to our clinic clients this week, with three major quests:
- The Left Hemisphere Quest – Players travel through the brain, meeting brain wizards in different lobes to learn how language and communication function.
- The Right Hemisphere Quest – This focuses on emotions and meaning-making. Players see how Amy the Amygdala interacts with Hillary the Hippocampus, how memories are formed, and how emotional regulation is affected when the amygdala hijacks control.
- The Time Traveler Quest – This explores the evolutionary origins of anxiety. Players travel back in time to observe and identify survival responses in early human societies, connecting historical adaptations to modern emotional experiences.
This is just the beginning, and we’re continuously developing new features, mechanics, and storylines to ensure that Legend Land remains a dynamic, engaging, and evidence-based therapeutic tool.
That’s so great! I’m absolutely in love with things like “let’s build a giant brain and let the children play”. What are kids most interested in learning about mental health and themselves? What are your most popular psychoeducational quests?
That’s a great question! The answer really depends on the individual child, but I’ve noticed two key things that consistently engage them: Legendary Items and customised play styles.
One of our most popular quests is ‘Fight Planet’, which is part of a larger series exploring the fight, flight, and freeze survival responses. We’ve discussed the Time Traveler Quest before, which focuses on the evolutionary function of anxiety—but in Fight Planet, players dive deep into their own fight response.
The quest is structured to help kids:
- Understand the fight response in a fun, interactive way.
- Identify their personal warning signs.
- Meet characters who model different emotional responses.
- Earn Legendary Items that act as metaphors for emotions.
For example, players receive ‘The Fiery Bucket of Lava’, which represents anger. When combined with an iron sword at a crafting table, it creates ‘The Sword of Anger.’ This weapon is more powerful than a regular sword but comes with a trade-off—it burns both the target and the user. It’s a tangible way to show kids that anger can be destructive, not just to others but also to themselves.
Later in the game, they can balance this by crafting ‘Mojo’s Super Sword,’ which symbolises emotional regulation. This sword requires fire and ice, representing high and low-energy emotions, and teaches kids about finding balance rather than just suppressing or exploding with anger.
Every quest in Legend Land integrates these Legendary Items, reinforcing key psychological concepts in a way that’s engaging and memorable.
Another major consideration in our approach is adapting the therapy to each child’s preferred play style. I train our psychologists to start every session by asking, “How do you like to play?”
Most kids will initially say, “I just play,” but when prompted, they usually identify with one of four main styles:
- Mining – Prefers repetitive tasks and collecting resources.
- Exploring – Enjoys discovering new areas and interacting with NPCs.
- Combat – Likes action-based play, battling mobs, and using strategy.
- Building – Loves constructing structures and expressing creativity.
If I work with somebody who loves creating, then I won’t actually use like a lot of the quests. I may use some, but I will mostly build it while we talk. You can use signs and stuff to write as you would onto a whiteboard if you were working face-to-face. So you’re writing into the build and then you take a screenshot and that’s your notes done. It’s beautiful! Whereas if they said “combat”, there are completely different things I will do. So it’s about figuring out the child’s play style and then adapting the therapy or the approach to them.
This level of customisation makes therapy far more engaging and effective than a one-size-fits-all approach. It’s therapy through play—but more importantly, it’s therapy that meets kids where they are.
I also want to ask how it works at schools, because I know you provide sessions for children at school.
Yes, we do offer sessions for children at school, but the process differs slightly from traditional telehealth. Instead of directly running the sessions ourselves within the school environment, we provide a structured process that allows schools to safely access our Minecraft therapy server and facilitate sessions.
One key difference is that we use Minecraft Java Edition rather than Minecraft Education Edition. While Education Edition offers some built-in classroom tools, Java provides far greater flexibility, mod support, and customisation, allowing us to create tailored therapeutic experiences that wouldn’t be possible otherwise.
Yeah. My son is a totally Java kid.
It’s more about a process where we identify a key support person in the school. This needs to be an adult or someone who can facilitate the session, or the child must be old enough and motivated enough to attend independently in a confidential space.
They would be doing telehealth from the school, which works well for some kids. For example, we’ve had children in foster care, and for them, school was the best place to access therapy. There have also been cases where parents either did not want to take their child out of school or could not facilitate the session at home, so we arranged for the child to join the session from a computer room at school.
Maybe you have a story about your work or clients that especially touches you? And maybe you share it a little bit with all the confidentiality of course?
There have been quite a few, but one stands out—especially because it happened right at the start of my journey. At that time, I had just launched my business, had no tech background, and was still figuring out how to build and maintain the basic systems. Things were going well with clients, but behind the scenes, everything was breaking. I had naively assumed that once the code worked, it would keep working, but that wasn’t the case!
In the middle of all this, I started working with an eight-year-old autistic boy who had been given a long list of diagnoses:, oppositional defiant disorder (ODD), conduct disorder, PTSD, and trauma-related challenges. He had been homeschooled for the past year because of severe bullying at school. He was also on antipsychotic medication to help manage self-harm and aggression.
He had already seen three psychologists, none of whom had been able to meaningfully engage him. He would shut down, run away, or, if pushed too much, throw things at them.
I started with a session just with his mother, gathering background information. In our approach, we don’t introduce the game in the first session—instead, we focus on understanding the child’s history, needs, and challenges. Then, in the second session, the child joins.
Given his demand-avoidant profile, I knew the most important thing was not to push him too hard. My goal was simply to help him feel safe, comfortable, and willing to return.
So, for his first session in Legend Land, I didn’t introduce any structured therapy activities. Instead, I took him on a tour of the world, flying up to the Hall of Legends, and I asked him to choose three things he was curious about. Each structure in Legend Land has a therapeutic purpose, but I didn’t explain that to him in detail. For example, “this is the police station, Police look for clues. Like clues in emotions . If I had asked him directly, “Have you ever felt anxious?”, his response would likely have been something along the lines of “no, obviously.”
Instead, he explored on his own terms. He was in control. That was enough.
The next week, his mother joined the session and surprised me by saying:
“What did you do?”
I thought she was concerned, so I started justifying my approach—
“Oh well, you know, we didn’t do a whole lot therapeutically yet to be honest. We just explored and—”
She interrupted me:
“It was fantastic. He started reading all the books on emotions that he had previously refused to even look at.”
From there, he continued to engage, build confidence, and open up. Over time, he came off antipsychotic medication, started making friends, and was thriving in homeschooling.
This experience taught me something crucial: the game had a hidden power.
Legend Land, and Minecraft in general, wasn’t just a tool—it was a bridge. It provided a safe, fun, and engaging space where kids could explore emotions on their own terms.
It also reinforced something I already believed: shared enjoyment builds connection. I genuinely love Minecraft, and that enthusiasm created an instant shared experience that helped us connect.
And the best part? His curiosity about emotions expanded beyond the game. He started applying what he was learning to the real world—and all of this happened in just 50 minutes.
That was the moment I knew and was all in. I quit my part-time job at the clinic and decided to fully commit to Legend Land and this way of doing therapy.
Thank you for sharing, this is an important story for me. I like stories like this because, as you said, it’s really a hidden power of the game. And now I want to create an emotional support quest in Minecraft Education for Ukrainian kids in Germany. They are living in different dormitories for refugees and feel lonely. And the goal is to develop friendly relationships and uplift them with some quest, like a hero journey. But I’m also thinking about combining Minecraft with the physical world, like physical envelopes or pen and paper quests that will lead them to new places in Minecraft. Because these kids are in a new country, new culture, and I try a little bit to encourage them to discover all of these new things. For example, we have a maze in Minecraft, and a paper map which we divide into four parts. And we will give one part of the map to each child, so everyone’s participation will be important.
That’s amazing—I’ve actually created a maze like that before! I completely agree with your approach, and we’ve developed a series of worksheets to accompany our quests, so that’s something we already have in place.
I’m also working on an interactive storybook that follows the Legend Land game, which is my main writing project at the moment. But I love your idea of integrating the maze with real-world elements—I have something I want to show you!
A lot of kids love Minecraft. If you can show them something new and let them be the expert too, it’s a great way to start a therapeutic relationship.
Thank you so much for showing me this place. I know that’s really a lot of hard work, and it really feels like a beautiful place with heart. Kids love it, I’m sure.
Yeah, they do. They love it. I think it’s like you get almost instant rapport and credibility. A lot of these kids especially love Minecraft and if you can show them something new and show them a cool world, but also listen to them. They like to show you new things as well and letting them be the expert is a great way to start a therapeutic relationship.
A lot of the time parents don’t feel confident in how to make the gaming safe for their child
What would you say to parents who are worried that video games will have a negative impact on their child?
I would start by exploring the specific concerns that parents have—what they’ve noticed, what they’ve heard, and what they’re worried about. Gaming affects children differently, and while some kids do struggle with problematic gaming, it’s important to first understand what’s actually happening before making broad assumptions.
Once we have that understanding, I would provide some general education on what healthy gaming habits look like for different age groups. I’d also highlight the positive aspects of gaming, such as social connection, creativity, and problem-solving.
On one end of the spectrum, you might have a 10-year-old who plays for an hour a day in a safe, structured way, using gaming as a way to connect with friends. In that case, the main concern might be setting up proper parental controls to ensure a safe online environment. Many parents feel overwhelmed by technology and simply don’t know how to make gaming safe—so part of our role is empowering them with the right tools and strategies.
I remember my mum trying to control my gaming…. she didn’t, the poor woman never had a chance.
Oh, I remember this time in my life.
She did her best. So it’s kind of helping parents to like and empowering them to be able to set expectations. But if the child has treated problematic gaming within a video game, it’s about meeting the child where they are and their interests.
It’s about meeting the child where they are and their interests.
On the other end, if a child is gaming excessively to the point where it’s interfering with school, relationships, or mental health, then it’s important to understand what’s driving that behaviour. Often, problematic gaming is not the root issue—it’s a symptom of an unmet need.
For example, some children turn to gaming because they:
- Struggle with social interactions in real life and find online friendships easier.
- Feel anxious or overwhelmed in school and use games as an escape.
- Lack other fulfilling activities that give them the same sense of accomplishment or excitement.
If a child has never been to a psychologist before, and they live in a metropolitan area with access to traditional therapy, I might not recommend using video games in therapy right away—sometimes, it can be too distracting. However, I’ve worked with many children who have already seen multiple psychologists and disengaged from therapy.
For those kids, gaming can be the hook that gets them to engage.
Once we build rapport and start working on emotional regulation, friendships, and self-esteem, they often become more open to therapy in general. At that point, if their gaming habits still seem problematic, I might refer them to a specialist in video game addiction. However, in many cases, by addressing the underlying needs—social connection, emotional regulation, or self-worth—the problematic gaming issue naturally improves.
Ultimately, my approach is not about banning games or labelling them as “bad.” It’s about understanding the role gaming plays in a child’s life and making sure it’s healthy, balanced, and beneficial.
I also want you to ask your opinion on the ban on social media for young people under 16 in Australia, which is a hot topic for discussion now (and, as you know, online games are the largest social media for youth).
That’s a really interesting topic—I could probably do an entire interview on it! There are valid arguments on both sides, but ultimately, it’s a complex issue.
One major consideration is that adolescence (especially ages 12–16) is a critical period for identity development. Social media plays a significant role in how teenagers explore their identity, interact with peers, and express themselves. However, it also amplifies risks—particularly cyberbullying and external validation.
In the past, bullying mostly happened at school, and kids could escape it at home. But with social media, some never get a break. They’re constantly exposed to negative messages, rude comments, and pressure to present a “perfect” version of themselves.
Another issue is that social media quantifies popularity in a way that can be harmful. The number of likes, comments, and followers can become a measure of self-worth—which is volatile and can lead to instability. Ideally, we want teenagers to develop an internal positive sense of self, rather than basing their confidence on external approval.
From that perspective, I can see the benefits of a ban—it could protect young people from some of the most damaging aspects of social media.
However, the real challenge is that kids will find ways around it. Realistically, many already have accounts their parents don’t know about, and if a ban is enforced, they’ll likely create fake accounts or move to less-regulated platforms. The issue then becomes one of less oversight, not more safety.
So while the intention behind the ban is understandable, I think the focus should be on digital literacy and responsible use rather than a blanket ban. Teaching kids how to navigate social media safely, recognise harmful content, and set healthy boundaries might be more effective than simply cutting off access—because sooner or later, they’ll be exposed to it.
Ultimately, we need a balanced approach that considers both the risks and the reality of how young people engage with technology.
I agree with you. That’s why I think that a ban is not enough, it’s not the answer. I believe that governments should require all algorithms to be open and malicious algorithms to be changed. Because if we imagine that a child will not use social media until the age of 16, then at 16 he or she will still get the same social media with the same malicious algorithms (legally). And at 16, it’s a little easier to deal with all this than at 10. But… I think it’s clear why this is still a problem. I hope it will change for kids and for adults.
Even if a child avoids social media until they turn 16, they’ll still encounter the same platforms with the same potentially harmful algorithms. At 16, they may be slightly better equipped to handle it than at 10, but the underlying risks remain unchanged. A long-term solution needs to address the design of these platforms themselves, not just delay access to them.
One thing I’d like to add—especially when talking about children who have experienced trauma or neurodivergent children—is that Minecraft can be an incredibly powerful tool for fostering engagement, emotional regulation, and a sense of control.
This is especially true for children who have been displaced due to war, like those affected by the conflict in Ukraine. For children who are shut down, withdrawn, or struggling with overwhelming change, Minecraft can be a way to reconnect with their sense of self and rebuild their world—literally and metaphorically.
Beyond engagement, it also helps with rapport-building. If a child is hesitant to talk or open up, sharing a familiar gaming space can create a natural, low-pressure way to connect.
Most importantly, Minecraft provides consistency and predictability—something that children with trauma or autism deeply crave when their world feels chaotic. It allows them to:
- Create a space they control when everything else feels uncertain.
- Design a ‘safe house’ or ‘fortress’ that represents emotional safety.
- Rebuild familiar environments—for example, recreating their old home to process memories, compare differences, and explore ways to adapt.
I usually don’t call it a “safe space” when working with kids—I call it a “fortress” because you feel protected in a fortress. The language matters, and framing it this way often makes children feel more empowered.
Minecraft is more than just a game—it’s a sandbox for emotional exploration. You can map out emotions, use in-game signs as virtual whiteboards, and even represent psychological experiences with different mobs—for example, Endermen representing depression, goats symbolising ADHD, and so many other small, nuanced ways the game mirrors real-life experiences.
It’s one of the most versatile, therapeutic tools we have, and when used intentionally, it can help children build not just structures—but resilience.
Thanks, Luke! You said a lot of important things that Ukrainian mental health professionals need to hear!
