Puzzle Break

When I looked forward to retirement, I figured I'd be like my Aunt Lou. Once upon a time, talking about her life, she said, "I spent the first twenty years growing up, the next twenty raising kids, the next twenty working, and now I'm spending the next twenty just enjoying myself!" (Since then, she's passed the end of that twenty year block, but I am glad to report she is still doing a bang-up job of enjoying life.) 

I thought it was a great way to approach life, and decided then and there that I wanted to be just like her when I grew up. I still don't understand why I'm having so much trouble with this doing-to-being transition - I mean, if she can do it, so can I, right???

In the spirit of trying to "do" less, last week, I only put three things on my to-do list - if I'd have worked steadily, I could have done them all in less than a day. But I didn't work steadily. I didn't even finish the things on the list. I did the first two things, and started on the third. But then, instead of finishing my task, I got out a jigsaw puzzle.

Until I finished it this morning, every free moment of the last few days has been spent assembling the picture. It amazes me how quickly time passes when I'm puzzling. Normally, I'm antsy, unable to sit for too long. But give me a good puzzle, and I can happily sit for hours on end, procrastinating on all the things that I wanted/needed to get done, working to find just one more piece.

What better way to practice being?

I usually pull out a puzzle for a reason; I've found it to be a wonderful meditation vehicle. As my eyes scan the table, my hands pulling together all the pieces that contain any yellow, my surface mind lets go of conscious thought. My quiet inner voice starts mulling over life questions, such as "Who am I?" and "Why am I here?" 

These days, I no longer look to come up with answers, but in keeping with what I've learned about emotions not being good or bad, but rather data, I try to listen to the feelings that bubble to the surface. (And hoo-boy were there a lot of them this time, because, life.)

I finished the puzzle calmer and less anxious than when I'd started it three days ago. Even though my conversations were only with myself, I feel heard, and have a better idea of what's been churning beneath the surface, messing with my sleep.

Not a bad form of therapy, I must say.