Puzzling

There is something about putting a jigsaw puzzle together which appeals to my need for order.  I can actually hear people snickering but it is true—under this chaotic whirling vortex of crazy hair, post-it notes, candy wrappers and children—there is order.  Well at the very least there is the desire for order. 

I’ve never watched the process in which other people do puzzles so perhaps I’m not unique in my technique.  The very first thing that I do is go through the entire box and separate out all of the pieces that have straight edges.  Completing the perimeter is a way of getting a sense of accomplishment early in the process which gives you confidence to go on.  Once you close up all of the sides you also have a better idea of what you are dealing with.  Even though the measurements are written on the box the actual size always comes as a surprise to me. 

The next step differs depending on the puzzle.  If there are several discrete objects which look different enough then I’ll go back to the box and sort by color and set upon putting the different sections together. These are another series of little victories to keep you going, and eventually they all fit together and make sense as a whole.  I was about to go into the process of how I put together a puzzle that looks entirely uniform like the migraine-inducing Where’s Waldo pictures.  But the truth is I would never buy one of those puzzles.  If it all looks the same—if each individual piece lacks individuality—I would quickly grow bored or crazy. 

What if before we are born into this world we are briefly shown our puzzle box?   Maybe we were given a quick glimpse of the completed picture, the dimensions and how many pieces we have to fit in.  Our task is to figure out how to make all of the pieces work. 

Occasionally, when I think of how old I am (almost 44) and I think about how I’ve not lived my life the way I feel it was meant to be lived, panic sets in.  My chest hurts.  I can’t breathe.  My pulse quickens.  I feel overwhelmed and guilty by my failure to waste this precious chance that we are all given at birth.  In life you can’t start by framing out the picture.  That is my problem.  I really want to know where the edges are.  But instead I’ve been fitting together the pieces that are easy to find matches for.  The home with the kids section, work session, life with the boyfriend section, karate section, friends and family section, spiritual work section, and I suppose now the writing section.  I enjoy all of those pieces and do feel they are all accomplishments in their own way—but it does not feel even close to the complete picture yet.  Am I missing entire sections or have I just not figured out how the sections I have are supposed to make a whole?