My youngest loves jigsaw puzzle and is surprisingly adept at them.
This morning I went into her and she was quite fraught while two-thirds way through a colourful moshi-puzzle “dad I need help” she uncharacteristically whimpered.
Doing a jigsaw with a child can be thought provoking;
the joy of bits fitting,
the frustration of not finding your place,
the worry that something’s missing,
the moment of unintenional breakup,
the disappointment it’s not as big as I thought,
the elation as you find the bit u thought was lost,
the organised versus the random process,
the race against time, the broken bit,
the satisfaction of a finished creation,
the enshrined ongoing project…
I don’t do jigsaws… perhaps I should?
Recently, I have felt/thought that ‘bits’ are ‘fitting together’ – the finding new bits, and the seeing a bigger picture, don’t ask me what it is yet, certainly I’m far from that stage. But, ‘knowing’ that stuff ‘feels’ right and in it’s place, is a good feeling. Yup, there’s a few big piles of dull and busy bits that don’t have a place yet and I’m pretty convinced many don’t even have a place in this puzzle, but we’ll get to them if and when we need to. As you do; we shelve bits, start new bits and often walk away from it altogether. There’s the concerted effort to explore an interesting part and the frustration that it just doesn’t fit… It’s broken… I have better thngs to do… It’s lost… I haven’t the patience… “A bad workman blames his tools…” they say. Yup, often I blame the jigsaw.