Creating Order Out of Chaos
Pondering puzzling versus the subjugation of humanity.
Good Morning, and Happy MLK Monday!
Over the holidays, I found myself getting sucked into a different kind of adventure – puzzles. You know, the ones with cardboard pieces that start off cute and fun but soon become frustrating. If you manage to stick it out, though, they can be incredibly rewarding. I'm talking about the kind that takes days to finish, not a quick Wordle session while stuck in traffic or a solitary crossword.
I use the term "sucked in" because that's exactly how I feel when I start puzzling, especially when I have a million other things to do. However, there's a certain magic that happens during this process.
It's a quaint and old-fashioned feeling – just being, passing the time, talking, or sitting silently with someone you love. The puzzle serves as a reminder that life's biggest challenges can be tackled one small piece at a time. What seems impossible becomes achievable. All of this unfolds while feeling deeply connected to the person working alongside you. As an added bonus, it’s a tech-free way to dose dopamine each time what you hold in your fingers finally fits.
My pondering about puzzles deepened when I overheard a conversation among some mid-twenties ski enthusiasts (note the AI auto-correct of “ski bums”) at Astoria Hot Springs during the holidays. The dialogue ranged from debating the merits of drinking wine or smoking a joint while cooking to a revelation in a quiet voice: "I've been doing some puzzles when I'm home alone."
“Like, real puzzles?” asked one friend;
“Wait, what? Do you do puzzles, too? I love puzzles. They keep me from endlessly scrolling,” said another.
“I know, right? I’m just over all the shows on Netflix.”
“We should start, like, a puzzle club.”
“That would be so cool. Let’s do it!”
I noticed over two weeks of puzzling that what to me is an innocuous puzzle can be intimidating to others. Here are some comments I heard from various friends and family when puzzling was happening at a holiday gathering:
“I hate puzzles.”
“I am not creative enough to do them.”
“I’ll sit here until I get one piece, then I’m out.”
“That looks boring.”
I wondered later if these comments might reveal deeper insecurities – feelings of not being smart enough, fear of embarrassment, a reluctance to be perceived as unintelligent, and an overwhelming busyness. Or if they are the self-loathing that, more often than not, was planted by “fleeting notions of parents or teachers who could have done better.”
This week, I heard a StoryCorps interview with Native American artist Tchin, known for designing for brands such as Cartier, who grew up in foster care in Rhode Island. When he applied for a summer scholarship at the Rhode Island School of Design, the art teacher told him, “They don’t want people like you,” so at thirteen, believing that creativity was not his right, he stopped drawing. Thankfully, he pursued an artistic career after moving to New York, living on the streets, learning to read and write, and overcoming these toxic stereotypes.
“I’m not the creative type,” I hear too often. Baloney. Did you create a beautiful meal last night? Are you planning a garden for the spring? Did you solve a problem at the office? Did you figure out a new way to drive to work? Do you journal? Have you picked up the knitting sitting under the couch in a while?
Stifling creativity is subjugation of humanity.
Puzzling is a great metaphor for fostering creativity. Puzzles allow us to move around the table, view things from new angles, step back in with a clear mind, and cultivate patience and trust in the process. I think about my toddlers' satisfaction in creating order out of chaos through puzzles.
Trevor Noah's podcast interview with Tristan Harris (tech ethicist and entrepreneur known for "The Social Dilemma") discusses the current tech battle going on with the stated ambition “to capture our attention.” Of course, we intuitively sense this, but what surprised me is how very intentional the corporations are. I hate being called a “sheeple,” but in this case, I am guilty of being an unconscious consumer, allowing my focus and attention to be constantly pilfered. What have we lost something by our incessant consumption of technology that stifles our creativity? Doing an old-fashioned puzzle occasionally seems like a great way to counter that.
"Create before you consume" ~ Marie Forleo
One night, I tried working on our 1000-piece puzzle alone, accompanied by a glass of wine, my dogs, and a wood stove. I thought I could multitask while watching Oppenheimer, which I wanted to see. As you can imagine, multitasking did neither the puzzle nor the movie justice, so I stopped and paid attention to the film. Within minutes, I realized that the nuclear experiment was one giant puzzle. The filmmakers do a great job of showing how male egos got in the way but how being curious, paying attention to everything, and being willing to look at things differently led to the invention that changed the world.
With exceptional puzzling skills, Oppenheimer and his team created the most horrific and fearful thing they could imagine to save the world the most horrific and fearful thing they could imagine. Or is it?
Our future depends on cultivating creativity; let’s resolve to never to give ours away.
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Sending so much gratitude to all my readers and new subscribers,
Sue
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Loved the conversation between the young people. It gives me great hope.
Yes, we must retain our humanity and creativity while using the tech as a tool only. So glad you wrote this.