The Jigsaw Puzzle

From Chaos to Confidence

I begin every morning with a jigsaw puzzle.

Not the kind you put together physically on a table. Mine is from an app I downloaded on my tablet about ten years ago. This app provides one puzzle a day and allows you to choose the number of pieces you want to work with, ranging from 35 to well over 1000, and gives you an estimate of how long it will take to finish it. I always go with 280 pieces, which takes me about an hour to complete.

The pictures vary a great deal from day to day - from seasonal and holidays scenes to cute animals and exotic wildlife, from pieces of abstract art to breathtaking landscapes from all over the world. The app doesn’t provide a picture beforehand, so whatever puzzle you’re putting together is a mystery until you’ve finished.

So, regardless of my plans for the day, it always starts with me sitting in my recliner, sipping a cup of coffee, and working my daily puzzle. I’m an early riser, so it’s often still dark outside and the house quiet. I don’t yet have to be anywhere nor have I gotten caught up in email or social media. It’s like this first hour is somehow insulated from anything else going on in any other areas of my life.

I’ve come to treasure this time and guard it as my first sacred commitment of the day. I use the word sacred because this hour seems to provide something essential for the rest of my day, something I get nowhere else. And on the rare occasion when I’ve had to skip this time, I feel off. This hour grounds me, and that feels sacred.

I didn’t set out to create such a morning ritual, but with it providing such undeniable, if accidental, benefits, I’ve given it some thought. Because the psychologist in me wants to understand what this ritual is doing for me and why. The writer in me wants to put it into words. The teacher in me wants to explain it in a way that makes sense. (Even though I promise I won’t test you over any of it.)

Anyway - here’s what I’ve come up with:

Each day I begin with a jumble of 280 disjointed pieces with only variations of color to hint at the whole picture and shapes to suggest their placement. Yet within minutes the jumble takes on meaning as patterns unfold and pieces I thought couldn’t possibly fit together do. And when that last piece is placed, I have visible proof that I can navigate through chaos in order to reach my goal.

It’s not unlike beginning a day - a day that feels like a jumble of disjointed plans that don’t look like they’ll fit together either or bring me closer to any of my life goals. Yet somehow, piece by piece, patterns form and meaning emerges. And at the end of the day, I see that what I’ve accomplished has indeed brought me closer to my goal of impacting others through what I teach and write.

Cognitive psychologists tell us that our mental framework exerts a powerful influence on our emotions and behavior. I wonder if putting together 280 pieces of chaos sets my mental framework to one of confidence that I’m up to the challenge of whatever the day holds.

I hope you, too, go into today with confidence in your ability to navigate whatever chaos you encounter in order to reach the goals you’ve set.