Putting my Life Back Together with a Jigsaw Puzzle
I used to love jigsaws. They’ve helped me through some very tough times. Then as life went on, we parted company for a long, long while. I never had a table big enough, or enough time, or enough bandwidth…
Recently though, one caught my eye. A simple coastal image of pink sand reefs and rows of tiny breaking waves. But when I brought it home and unpacked it, my nerve wavered.
All those upturned pieces staring back at me, even with the edge pieces separated from the rest, gave me a mild panic attack. How on earth would I ever make sense of this jumble. I left it unpacked for a week, and the following weekend I almost packed it away again.
I realised that I was scared of my new jigsaw puzzle. More specifically, I doubted my ability to start it.
That realisation gave me a shock. What had happened to me, that a jigsaw puzzle was suddenly so daunting? 1000 pieces. I’d done them countless times before. But somewhere along the line, I’d lost my confidence and my focus.
I wavered, hand on the box, ready to sweep the pieces back in. Then some latent sense of determination kicked in. I picked up a piece and began to visually sift through the colours. When I found its mates, I pushed them into the same location on the table and took a deep breath. Now, I told myself, just sit with those colours for a while. Give yourself time…
And there it was… the first match and the satisfying click as the pieces fit together.
It’s a week or two later now and it’s coming together nicely. I’m only working on it for about ten minutes a day, but I’m getting there. Every day I feel better about it. I’m having fun.
But something more profound came from it than that. I got a visceral reminder that starting small could eventually lead to a greater whole. Starting small was the gateway to emergence.
It made the world suddenly seem more connected… and far less chaotic.
If you’re interested in this idea, read my Medium post on Thrumming the Web of Influence.
