puzzled

by Crys Williams on February 9, 2012

So I have a new addiction.

Jigsaw puzzles.

Really, it’s an old addiction reignited by a random collision with a Christmas sale table at Barnes & Noble.

I’ve done a dozen since then, mostly classic fine art some modern-day kerchunkah machine in China has shattered into a thousand pieces.

That first puzzle tasted nostalgic, from when my Mom would spread a puzzle on the dining room table for us to work on whenever. We’d settle in and play for a while after dinner…drop in a few pieces on a walk-by to the kitchen…sit down to it together for an alleged minute in the morning, only to miss the school bus and giggle over what to write on my tardy note. I mean, what can one say?

“Sorry Crystal was late to school today…she was puzzled.
Signed, her Mom, who was equally puzzled”

And so it feels good to sit down and find the edges, sort similar things together, and assemble a pretty picture that looks exactly like the one on the box. And I often think—

“Ahh, if life were only like this, yeh?”

How much easier would it be if each phase of our life came in a box with a picture on it? We’d know just what to expect, exactly what we were working for, and all the surprises would be in the assembly—not the results.

Success would be inevitable.

We wouldn’t know precisely when it’d come but we’d be assured that if we just kept placing those pieces our success was guaranteed. Eventually.

Easi-ER. But still not easy.

Because of course it would be a challenge. We’d start out with a 10-piece bunny puzzle that would kick our toddling asses. But we would learn about patience. And perseverance. And process.

We’d learn that little zing of pleasure when a piece fits, the tiny frumph of disappointment when it doesn’t, and that pop of surprise when two pieces we don’t think belong together, come together. And the delight (and sometimes relief) of placing the final piece to see the whole picture, at last.

And as we grew up we’d get handed larger and larger puzzles with evermore complex pictures. And much smaller pieces…and lots of ‘em, right? Hundreds of pieces. And then a thousand. And then multiple thousands.

The process would stay the same, though. So would the pleasures, surprises, disappointments, and joys. They’d all be waiting for us among the pieces. And a bigger puzzle would mean more opportunities for all of them…smaller opportunities, maybe. But many more.

And well…life kinda is like that. Yeh?

Especially because I recently bought a puzzle, sealed and bagged, where the pieces inside didn’t match the picture on the box. There’s a style of puzzle where that’s intentional, but this wasn’t that. The box held pieces for a different painting by the same artist.

True story: I knew at first glance the pieces did not belong to the picture. And then my brain short-circuited. I mean, this simply doesn’t happen. Except it did.

I tried returning it, and the store was willing to exchange it, but they were sold out of the puzzle I wanted. So my choices were: 1) pick something totally different, or 2) stick with a picture I didn’t want that was, at least, somewhat like the one I wanted. Kinda. But not really.

And so I stuck with it.

It took an eon to finish. Not because it was more complicated than any other, but because there was no joy in it. I tried to have fun, but I couldn’t shake that it wasn’t what I wanted or what was promised. It grew a gritty layer of dread. But I was gonna start what I finished. I was gonna slog through it, with gritted teeth, no matter what, and only then would I move on to another puzzle that I, ya know, actually chose.

And I did.

And there was little to celebrate in the end. Successful result? Technically. Totally not worth it because it sucked to think on it, work on it, or even walk past it? Abso-friggin-lutely.

Huh…life is exactly like that. Yeh.

And then there was the used-but-new-to-me puzzle I got from a friend. Fewer pieces than I’m used to but, hey, THE PIECES MATCHED THE PICTURE ON THE BOX! Something I no longer take for granted. And it was a fun and tricky piece of folk art to boot. A real challenge. But when the last remaining 80 or so pieces were beside it on the table, I knew at a glance that pieces were missing.

It would never be complete. Not ever.

So I placed the pieces I had, mourned the pieces I didn’t—savored the irony—and moved on to the next puzzle.

OH…life is sooooo like that! Oh yeh. ;-)

.

Big love,
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