Are you a jigsaw puzzle fan? Those impossible ones with many thousands of pieces that all look the same?
Can’t say I really am one myself. I don’t have the patience, nor do I get bored enough, to willingly put myself through the agony of the cyclical torture … hope to “ah-ha” to “nope” to hopelessness back to hope again. Doesn’t life give us enough of such torment without having to seek it out, much less as supposed fun?
And, yet putting together puzzles is what I do all day long. A patient comes in, usually with some hint of discomfort – at least enough to make an appointment. And we get busy taking out all the pieces, turning them face-up on the card table and beginning the sometimes long and grueling process of making sense of an ever-evolving scene.
“That’s a corner piece.”
“This one belongs over here.”
“Now I can see the picture more fully.”
And on it goes till the final act when all the time, all the work, and all the anguish begin to take shape into a beautiful and satisfying form.
But be warned: if often feels worse before it gets better. Leaving those 1000 puzzle pieces neatly piled and plastic-wrapped in a sealed box sure sits better on a shelf. It is contained and safely tucked away. It’s not sprawled out in a mess in the middle of the living room.
But, there is no joy in such storage. And, I am greedy that way. I want a fully-formed picture. One that screams beauty and long-hours and diligence and yes, even patience. And if I can’t have that, at least give me effort. Give me your ass on the folding chair. Struggling to make sense of your best life possible. I’ll take that any day over an unformed picture.
So, start. Don’t wait for a snow day. Unwrap your potential. Your soul craves to be whole. We might even pull out the glue and a regal frame. Your artistry is so deserving.