As I walked through the park this week, I found myself reflecting on something simple yet deeply meaningful: the joy one of the individuals I work with finds in coloring. She is blind. And yet—she LOVES to color.
Not because she knows exactly what color she’s holding, or because she’s creating a picture that others will praise. But because the process itself brings her joy. You can hear it in her voice when she says, “I love to color.” That’s what matters.
As an Occupational Therapist, I support caregivers in identifying activities that bring fulfillment and connection to those they care for. This moment reminded me of the powerful truth: we don't always need to have a "why" beyond the joy of doing. So often, we rush to justify an activity—Does it improve skills? Is there a finished product? Is it functional? But sometimes the most important outcome is simply participation. A chosen activity. A smile. A voice of delight saying, “I love this.” This is person-centered care at its core.
For this woman, coloring isn’t about choosing the right crayon or staying inside the lines. It’s about texture, pressure, movement, and the freedom to create. It’s sensory-rich. It’s calming. It’s hers.
What can Caregivers take from this? If you're a caregiver or support staff member working with someone who doesn’t communicate in typical ways or has significant cognitive or sensory needs, here’s your encouragement: Look for the “yes” moments. They may not always look like success on paper—but listen for the joy in their voice. Watch for a moment of calm. A giggle. A pause of deep concentration. These are the signs that the activity matters.
Let’s reframe SUCCESS. In my work, I often hear, “Well, I don’t think she understands what she’s doing,” or “He doesn’t really get it.” And my response is: Maybe it’s not about understanding the task the way we define it. Maybe it’s about the moment. And it’s in that moment that we—as caregivers, therapists, and support partners—have a chance to open new doors. To try things in new ways. To listen, observe, and honor what lights someone up from the inside.
What’s Next? We don’t always have to have a perfectly planned activity or know what’s coming next. Sometimes we just follow the clues we’re given.
That’s what I do at Pam’s Den of Creative Fun and in our Den of Possibilities. Together, we explore creative adaptations, modified tools, and accessible activities that make leisure meaningful for every individual.
We talk about moments like these—coloring when you're blind, painting with tools made for comfort, crafting with textures rather than templates. So stay tuned. There’s more to come.
Let’s continue to walk this path together—supporting joyful participation, no matter the ability level. Because sometimes, the very best thing we can offer is the chance to just be in the moment… and love it.