Life as a Puzzle
The pieces tumble out. The colors mix in vibrant jubilation. I sort: straight edge here, middle piece there, one by one. It seems impossible that all these bits of cardboard will fit together into a coherent image. Although I am skeptical at the start of a puzzle, it always comes together piece by piece to make the image on the box.
Focus is required to do a puzzle. It’s hard to multitask. My phone sits quietly, no longer in my restless hands. Focusing on a challenging but not impossible task creates a delicious flow state. I crave the feeling of flow, but I don’t routinely get it in our hustle culture, with near-constant distractions and interruptions.
What would happen if I gave myself space to focus and define my priorities like I do with a puzzle? I tried to do this last week. I volunteered to bring snacks for my son’s ultimate team to be consumed while they traveled from Atlanta to Nashville for a weekend ultimate frisbee tournament. At first, I felt a bit flustered; I didn’t feel I had the time or space to get this done. But after a few deep breaths, I gave myself space to find a solution. It became a puzzle to solve. How could I fulfill the request, keep my schedule, and not spend a lot of time or money? The answer came to me after I relaxed and accessed my creativity and curiosity. The boys got their sandwiches, I made my meetings, and my pocketbook was pleased.
Puzzles also require a bit of surrender. How many times have I searched and searched unsuccessfully for the right piece to finish part of the puzzle, and only after I’ve given up do I see it? A lot. Sometimes, I need to release the notion that I will make something happen. Sometimes, I need to surrender and trust that what needs to happen will happen.
I think about this with my sons. I long to be close to them. I miss the days we would cuddle in bed before they fell asleep or in the morning when they wanted to be wrapped up in my robe close to me as if they were marsupialized. These days, if I push or grasp at closeness and connection, I’m pushed away; my search is unsuccessful. I get what I desire only when I surrender and let them be without condition. Like the last time my oldest son returned to college after spring break. After we said our goodbyes and hugged, he returned to give me a second long hug and tell me he loved me.
Completing a puzzle consistently reinforces the power of small, consistent actions. I start with a pile of pieces, and in the end, you have a complete, coherent image; all I did was one piece at a time. It feels overwhelming at the start, but after I drop focusing on the end product and enjoy the process piece by piece, the outcome happens.
This is how I try to tackle most projects. What is the smallest bit I can do? I like to write and write for my coaching business and as a hematologist. I write for only 30-60 minutes 2-5 times per week most weeks. It doesn’t feel like a lot, and I can manage a short bit of writing, even on busy days. I have written quite a few papers this way. In the same way that I am amazed that the puzzle is done, I am often astonished that the paper is done after my little steps of writing day after day. It doesn’t feel like much each day, but the days add up.
I love puzzles. I love the chance to focus, my mind quieting and time disappearing. I love surrendering to work with the pieces as they appear, giving up control of what I want to happen. I love seeing the cumulative effect of consistent small actions.
Although I seek puzzles in the NYT game app or a box, there are puzzles all around. Each day, the challenges of life are puzzles to solve. A meaningful, peaceful life filled with love is my puzzle to be solved. What would happen if we treated the problems we experience and our aspirations like puzzles? Puzzles to solve using creativity, focus, surrender, and consistent small actions to create the life we want. Piece by piece, we’d see our vibrant, beautiful life take shape.