Those items of furniture that look great on the small screen of your phone device arrive at your door in a single cardboard box. They could be from Ikea or a host of other quick and easy delivery companies. One of these arrived at my door the other day. My wife had been tracking it so I wasn’t unaware, just a bit fretful. The source of my anxiety was the basic puzzle of what we would have to go through if we didn’t like it. We would then have to send it back and what would that mean? These ancillary costs to my mental health are always on my mind.
I like puzzles generally. I feel smart when I can solve them. I love doing crosswords. My mind seems to expand in different directions when I work on a jigsaw puzzle (as long as there is a tidy place to put the assembly and I can keep my worry of lost pieces under control). One of my favourite things to build is a custom made cardboard box for the delivery of presents to my family far away. I measure and cut carefully to avoid wasted space in the parcel. The postal workers at my local depot always smile as they measure my package and report the payment due. Supporting these old systems and pastimes pleases me.
My former father-in-law loved the three dimensional wooden puzzles you can get at farmers’ markets of in craft stores. Being an engineer, he liked playing Jenga and pick-up-sticks. He tried to show me how to play Tetris on his computer once which made me nervous for a whole day afterward. I got revenge by buying him a Christmas present of magic metal rings that were supposed to detach and separate but never did in his lifetime. Pay back can be pleasing.
I think of myself as a puzzler. I enjoy having an enquiring personality. As I age I try to keep my two cranial hemispheres firing on all synapses. I tone my left side by writing daily; using language is the key here. My right hemisphere enjoys the spatial dimensions of thought so this comes in really handy when I have to put things together, like the bureau in that box by the door, that was waiting to be opened. ‘I have a project.’ I said to my self with encouragement.
Space was made and time was allowed for the task at hand. Out of the box came all the assorted pieces. Tools were assessed. I gazed at the instructions that were numbered for clarity. I was building this piece of furniture in front of my 95 year old special mom. She saw my puzzlement over the parts displayed before her and said, “I know you can do it.” I asked how she was sounding so sure. She answered, “ Because you are good at crossword puzzles.”
I appreciated her puzzling connection yet heart felt encouragement. I began fitting the pieces together. It pleased me that her presence gave truth to the saying; Two heads are better than one.
Catch My Drift? 