“It’s always the small pieces that make up the big picture.” – Randy Frazier

My sister arrived at my house two months ago with a gift. She had been involved in a puzzle exchange, saw a retro one, and thought it would be perfect for me. I love retro things and have quite an extensive Coke collection, but I have never done a puzzle. I initially thought of giving it to a friend who was an avid puzzler but paused and considered that this might be a pleasant little pastime I should try. My days are pretty rich, but I find post-dinner a bit of a challenge. I am not a big TV watcher and am often too tired to read, so I have sought other options.

Last night, with my summer visitors ending, I thought it would be an excellent time to pull the puzzle out. My puzzler friend loaned me one of those mats so that my activity would be portable, as I wanted to do it on my kitchen table and knew it might be a lengthy endeavor. My puzzler friend’s mother, who is also a puzzler, gave me some tips, such as starting with the outside pieces and then working on little sections through to completion. She also mentioned starting with small puzzles and building complexity over time; however, the gift was 1000 pieces, so I would be ignoring that portion of the advice.

I unrolled the mat and dumped the pieces in the centre. I now understood why she suggested starting small. One thousand pieces is a lot! It looked like a colourful mountain on this expansive cloth plateau. I was feeling overwhelmed and hadn’t even really started. Little steps, I told myself, this was to be a relaxing activity—outside pieces to the left and inside pieces to the right. The inside pieces were taking up a lot of space, so I measured out the area the puzzle would require, assessing how much of the mat I could allocate for them to remain visible.  My mind then immediately went to steps I could incorporate to speed up the flipping of the pieces. If I flipped, piled, and then placed the pieces, the process would be more streamlined.

Whoa! What is the matter with this picture? I am trying to speed up an activity that I’m doing to slow myself down! Does this not just represent what life has been like? Do everything faster, get the brass ring quicker, rinse, and repeat. This is what society supports and rewards. Whatever happened to seeing life’s steps as an adventurous journey instead of a means to an end?

Retirement will see me reigning myself in, seeing the puzzle as a voyage of many rewarding piece placements, with the last being equal to and no better than the rest.