The Puzzle.

So I have a dilemma, but not.

I’d radio the problem into Houston, if I could, but it’s not really that, either.

A coworker told me today it’s simply more of a puzzle.

I thought about this for a while. She’s right.

Consider this: everything in our lives is a puzzle. Some are simple, familiar ones — suitable for ages 3 and up. They fit together quickly and smoothly. The pieces can be put together in your sleep. You know exactly what to do.

Other puzzles are far more complex. You know the kind — they exist solely to provide a challenge, to get us to see how far we’ll go before we scrap our efforts entirely. They’re the ones with water confused for pieces of sky, and sand that could pass for the flesh of beach goers. Their shapes sometimes fit if we force them, but the way of the puzzle is such that we’re reminded that a forced piece is an incorrect piece.

Try again: simply rearrange them. And don’t underestimate the value of patience.

Right now, all of the pieces are before me. My process with puzzles is to first flip all the pieces over and review them while looking at the picture on the box; I get the lay of the land, if you will. Then the corners are put in their places, closely followed by the edges. The anchors and side rails are now in place. Next up? Start the main task.

Here’s hoping the box has all the pieces and that none have gone missing or fallen by the wayside.

Here’s to taking our time, and to being deliberate with our puzzles. Rushing won’t help the answer come any more quickly, but for the challenge they present, even if it takes six months to a year to complete, I am thankful.

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