After 3 years of snowless winters, we were blessed this year with back-to-back snowstorms in the Triangle. Local meteorologists could not contain their excitement. They warned of power outages, black ice, frozen pipes, and frostbite. Frightened masses descended on grocery stores to purchase copious amounts of bread and milk. Nobody really knows why people hoard bread and milk before a winter storm. Some have suggested that it is deeply rooted in our DNA from times of famine. Others have theorized that it is a post-traumatic stress response to the blizzard of 1978. 

My wife and I don’t really drink much milk or eat bread very often, so we always feel a little like outsiders when we go to the store before a storm. For the recent storms, we stocked up on things like fruit, potatoes, kombucha, and rice. At the checkout, the cashier and others in line looked at us with suspicion. Who are we, and why don’t we have bread and milk in our cart? Could we be aliens living among the milk and bread consuming humans? We ignored their looks of disdain and took our nonconforming groceries and headed out on our next errand.

Our next stop was far more important than the grocery store. We were going in search of jigsaw puzzles. I don’t ordinarily do jigsaw puzzles. There is something about snowstorms, though, that gives me the urge to spend hours and hours sorting out the puzzle pieces, putting them together, and then taking it all apart. I found a great owl puzzle for the first storm and a beautiful mushroom puzzle for the second storm. I would estimate that each puzzle took me a total of about 30 hours to complete and 5 minutes to destroy. 

As I disassembled the mushrooms and the owl, I felt a little sad. I had worked so hard to put these puzzles together. Why would anyone engage in this seemingly irrational behavior of creating something beautiful knowing that it was going to be destroyed after it was completed? There are actually many good life lessons we can learn from puzzling. 

1. When something seems insurmountable, tackle the challenge one step at a time. 
   The owl puzzle was particularly challenging. There was very little variation in the colors in the puzzle. After I emptied the 1000 pieces of the puzzle on the table, the thought crept into my head that I will never be able to do this. But then I broke the challenge down into the first step of picking out the border pieces. Each time I fit border pieces together it was a small win. Eventually, I had the full border completed. My next step was to sort colors. After sorting the colors, I began to work from the outside in. Each day, I was starting to see hints of an owl on the table. After a couple weeks, what seemed to be insurmountable was now a completed project. Work can be like that for me. As a malpractice claims attorney, I sometimes receive reports of very complicated claims against our insureds. When I first review the matter, I might feel overwhelmed and question my ability to wrap my head around the facts and law. And then I remember to break it down into its component parts. I read one document or pleading at a time. I go through the matter in chronological order and create my own timeline. If there are legal issues that I do not understand, I research each one separately. Eventually, the claim comes together in my head like a completed puzzle. What seemed like an impossible mental challenge is now well within my grasp. 
   
2. Nothing lasts forever.
   With the possible exception of photons, which some physicists theorize will have infinite lives, nothing in this physical world lasts forever. Change is inevitable. Seasons change every year. Our own bodies are constantly changing.  At any given moment, millions of cells die, and others take their place. Manmade structures eventually deteriorate and disappear. Relationships evolve. Impermanence is a fact of life. When we resist this, we create suffering for ourselves. By accepting impermanence, we can be more resilient when we experience change or loss. Jigsaw puzzles remind us of this. We can fully immerse ourselves in its creation and enjoy each step of the journey, even though we know that we are going to take it apart when we finish.
   
3. Forcing something to work is rarely a good idea.
   I sometimes find a puzzle piece that looks like it should fit but doesn’t. It is close. If I press hard enough, I could probably get it to click into place. If I do that, though, this will disrupt the entire picture. Life can be like that. People try to make relationships work where they’re not a good fit. People take on projects or responsibilities that don’t suit their talents or interests. People force themselves into careers that don’t align with their passions and interests. Forcing these situations creates unhappiness, stress and anxiety. 
   
4. There is a sense of gratification and satisfaction that comes from creating something out of nothing.
   When I dump the puzzle pieces on the table, there is no picture. It is just a pile of little pieces. Like any creation, you start with a blank canvas or a collection of pieces or parts, and, through a series of steps, you create the cohesive whole. When you are deeply engaged in the project, you will find yourself in a state of flow where time seems to disappear. Then there is a sense of accomplishment when you persevere to complete the finished product. Even legal work can create this feeling. When you draft a brief, you are taking a set of facts and legal principles that you must string together to create a persuasive argument on behalf of your client. Each fact and legal principle standing alone means nothing. It is only after you have used your creative and analytical abilities to weave it all together that you have something meaningful. 
   
5. The journey is more important than the destination.
   I’ll admit that it feels great when I put that last puzzle piece in place. As with any project, whether work or personal, where we have worked hard toward a goal, there is a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction when it is completed. But that is just one moment in time. What about all the moments leading up to the final destination? All of these moments are opportunities for joy and meaning. Every time I fit a puzzle piece together, I get an instant boost of dopamine. Life is like that. Every day, we have thousands of opportunities to experience joy, satisfaction, or beauty. If we are too focused on the goal or final destination, we might miss out on all of these smaller moments. 

In the end, perhaps puzzling isn’t such a puzzling behavior after all. What might seem like a quirky winter pastime is actually rich with metaphor and meaning. It teaches us patience, resilience, adaptability, and the value of the process over the product. Whether we’re navigating a thousand tiny pieces of cardboard or the complexities of our personal and professional lives, we’re all just trying to make sense of a larger picture—one piece at a time. And if we can find moments of joy, purpose, and clarity along the way, then maybe that’s the most important piece of all.