Let’s just say I have found some creative ways to keep myself entertained during the pandemic. I count the steps between my house and the nearby pond. I’ve discover the oddly satisfying joy of cleaning (cleaning!). I made a podcast, even, which came completely out of the blue. And I’ve done puzzles. Lots of puzzles. I have always liked puzzles, but the pandemic made me dust off the ones that have been tucked out of sight and mind in the depths of our basement. I forgot how much I liked them. I like the beginning stages of looking at the picture on the box and asking myself “How the heck am I gonna make that picture out of alllllllll these pieces?!” I like putting the edges together. I like the challenge of making a clear picture out of these pieces, one by one until it’s some semblance of art. Something I accomplished, no matter how small that accomplishment is in the greater puzzle of life.

I went to my basement to look around for yet another puzzle to do. I sighed. All the good ones were done. All the fun ones with the cute little cats and dogs playing together had been dead and gone for a while now. I finished the colorful, geometric butterfly one we had, too. So that left the one puzzle left I despised. But what the heck, it’s something to do, right?

It’s not an ugly puzzle, really. It’s just kind of meh compared to my tried and true favorites. It has a castle on it. Not a sparkly pink castle. Not a particularly tall castle. There’s no princess on it or anything. It’s just a plain, tan, castle. To be honest, if I were a princess, I don’t think I would really want to live in it. Take me to Cinderella’s castle instead or something. Or maybe I’d just stay in my room. I do really like my room. There are a few trees surrounding the base of the castle, with a flower bush or two. Oh, and there’s a sky. A  l o t  of sky. A cloudless, blank sky with a lot of pieces that look the exact same. There’s, like, fifty whole pieces of sky. “Oh yeah” I remembered. “That’s why I hate this puzzle so much”. I really don’t know who’s creative decision it was to make a puzzle with such wide open spaces, but they should seriously re-evaluate their career as a puzzle maker, in my opinion. I finished the grass, flowers, and castle in one sitting. And then I groaned in frustration as I started on the impossible task ahead of me: this stupid, stupid sky. 

The puzzle sat on the dining room table for days. It was unfinished, but not untouched. I tried working on it in between classes. I tried working on it some more in between meals. I tried working on it to pass the time, which is why I do a lot of things. It sounds silly to say out loud, but this puzzle even brought a tear or two of frustration to my eyes as I tried desperately to cram the identical pieces together one by one, hoping they would fit. Maybe this time, I could finish the picture. Maybe I could create something beautiful out of these missing pieces (I mean, as beautiful as a plain, tan castle can get). 

A tear ran down my cheek, not out of frustration this time. Maybe it was from delusion, trying day after day to come to some kind of stopping point, or maybe I really on to something (you guys can decide for yourselves) But, in a way, I saw my life reflected in these pieces of sky. 

I try to make something beautiful out of my life.

I try to create my own castle on the hill, surrounded by flower bushes and trees and art and love and life.

But what does that really mean without the sky?

While I am at home, I try to put the pieces together in a way that feels meaningful, but how can I do that when they don’t fit!!!!?

THEY DON’T FIT AND YET ARE SOMEHOW THE SAME SHADE OF BLUE, DAMMIT!

Right now, I am on the tedious, but necessary task of putting together the sky of the puzzle of my life, as cheesy as that sounds. Yep, as I am writing the words on this google doc right now. It’s all in my grasp; like I’m on the cusp of finishing the picture for good. But not yet. So I pick up the pieces and I work on it. Sometimes I think a piece fits, but I realize it doesn’t quite fit in the place I thought it did. It’s hard, and it’s frustrating. So I rearrange things. I try something new. And then BOOM. Piece by piece, the sky gets finished.

And yeah, it wasn’t an overnight task to finish this puzzle. And I still think it’s kinda dumb, sitting there on the dining room table, mocking me (a perfectionist) with it’s missing pieces; with it’s imperfections. But hey, that’s life. I’m not going to figure things out overnight. I’m probably not going to figure things out in quite a few nights. I don’t think that matters, really. At least I’m working on it.

Piece by piece, the gap closes.

Piece by piece, I am starting to get a clearer picture of who I am and where I want to be.

Piece by piece, I am getting closer to my own castle with a beautiful garden and a lot of endless, blue sky.

Maybe the endless, blue sky isn’t such a bad thing after all. Maybe the people who created the puzzle, whoever they are, were on to something. It’s almost like they wanted me to reevaluate my life, or something. Congrats, puzzle makers of the painfully boring castle with too much sky. You succeeded.