Puzzle Flow
Or why I spend countless hours attempting to fit small irregularly shaped, multi-colored cardboard pieces together.
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The onset of Pandemic Year One found me indulging in the decidedly low-tech thrill of puzzle play. In lieu of doomscrolling, I spent countless hours attempting to fit small irregularly shaped, multi-colored cardboard pieces together. Initially, I worked at my coffee table but pieces would fall off and turn up months later in unexpected places like the depths of a toy bin or the farthest reaches of the bread box. Despite its enviable size, the dining room table was also a no go as any puzzle I began would have to be moved each time my family of six gathered to eat a meal. I soon realized that until I procured a room of my own, a table of my own would have to do. So I got a card table. Its sole purpose was for doing puzzles. I set it up in my living room and never took it down. That’s when things got serious.
I soon realized that until I procured a room of my own, a table of my own would have to do.
In the beginning, it was not without some guilt that I returned time and again to my little table. As a mother of four, I am on intimate terms with sleep deprivation but my choice to work on puzzles rather than go to bed was totally self-inflicted. There were times I flat out ignored my children when a particularly gnarly puzzle demanded my attention. I cast a blind eye to the household responsibilities that were mine to tackle like sorting through a stockpile of mismatched socks or languishing on hold for eleventy thousand hours with the city to make arrangements for a bulky item pick up. Spending my time solving puzzles felt more productive than say, watching the slow collapse of the American empire in real time on my smartphone.
Puzzling became a meditation, a way to unwind from my day. I have no taste for alcohol so wine o‘clock will forever elude me but it’s never too late (or too early) to start a puzzle. The truth is I can get so lost in the act of putting together a puzzle that there is a psychological term for it. It’s called a flow state, wherein one becomes so focused and engaged in whatever it is one is doing that everything else sort of falls away.
Solving jigsaw puzzles was not a family pastime when I was growing up. I didn’t know that most people solve the border first. I simply dumped all the pieces out, turned them right-side up and stood the box cover up on its side so that I could easily reference the image. From there, whatever piece caught my eye and whatever pieces fit together was where I began. No strategy. No plan.
Gradually I learned to sort by color and pattern. Even the shape of the pieces held clues as to where they should be placed. Soon I was completing two 1000+ piece puzzles a month. The nickname Puzzle Ho was bandied about. I had developed a reputation and before I knew it I was in possession of a full blown habit.
Because I spend so much time working on puzzles, I have become particular about the types of images I am willing to spend hours looking at. Candy bar wrappers arranged to look like wallpaper, license plate montages or artwork so purposefully bland as to offend no one will not do. I love a good Ravensburger but I am more excited by all the independent and smaller puzzle makers that have sprung up like Apostrophe Puzzles, a Brooklyn based, black-owned, women-led business and eeboo Piece and Love Puzzles, another woman-led and environmentally mindful business. Galison Puzzles, a New York based brand consistently works with both established and emerging artists. And Areaware’s subtle monochromatic gradient puzzles? Goals.
When we moved overseas, my husband declared my rickety card table an eye sore, and I reluctantly took it down. It was my mother (she puzzles now too) who shared a space-saving puzzle board hack involving an inexpensive poster-size, plexiglass frame. Flip it over, discard the print, remove the hanging apparatus while leaving the frame intact and voilà; what remains is a clear-bottomed tray that can be stored under the couch.
I have found that solving puzzles offers applicable insight to navigating life. Insert your interest /passion /relationships / goals etc. for the word “puzzle” and you will find the advice is relevant:
Make time to consistently work on your puzzles.
Create a space to work on your puzzles and then protect that space.
Do practice patience with your puzzles (and yourself). There really is no other way.
Do step away from, and then revisit, your puzzle with fresh eyes.
Do not force a piece into a space that does not fit no matter how badly you want it to fit. Especially beware the rare, wrong piece that fits in the right place. Such a piece will only reveal itself after all that remains is a single errant piece that fits nowhere else. It is only after you swap the two that the puzzle can be completed.
Do have faith. Not every missing piece is lost. Sometimes you’ve looked at the missing piece several times without actually seeing it only to realize it’s been in front of your face the entire time.
If you have looked and still can’t find it, you can always ask a friend to puzzle with you. Chances are they will offer you a new perspective and you’ll have the benefit of camaraderie. If all else fails, you can always contact the company for a replacement piece.
As you improve from consistent practice, you are able to complete more challenging puzzles with greater speed and efficiency.
You may question your sanity as you embark on increasingly difficult motifs but the satisfaction you experience from knowing that you can do hard things is beyond gratifying.
Enjoy yourself. Remember why you do this in the first place.
After completing whatever puzzle I have been working on, I can’t help but run my fingers over the cool, smooth but textured surface. So. Satisfying. I absolutely take photos for the ‘gram. The stakes could not be lower but the feeling of accomplishment is high. I take one last self-congratulatory look and then with a zeal that can only be matched by the anticipation I feel when starting a new puzzle, precisely because I know this moment is to come, I destroy the puzzle with the same gusto that Cookie Monster devours a cookie on an old episode of “Sesame Street.”
Create. Destroy. Start again. Nothing is precious. Live to see another day. Put together another puzzle.
Tell Me:
Do you solve puzzles? If you started during the pandemic, have you continued? Or have you been puzzling for as long as you can remember? Let’s talk about it in the comments. 🧩
So many good nuggets of insight into the puzzle people. My sister, daughter, and other lady friends are puzzle people. There are unspoken rules (do not allow others to play with their puzzle without their expressed permission) and tools (start with the edge pieces) amongst these puzzle people - they are fascinating to me. I am not one of them. Thank you for this. I will make sure to share with them and gift them your mom's puzzle frame tray for the holidays.
So evocative, funny and thoughtful. As I read, I felt the 'cool, smooth but textured surface', giggled at the sorting technique, and was moved and inspired by your pursuit of creative space and time. Thank you!