Puzzled

Puzzled. It's a good word. It suits me. It suits this blog. After all, what I'm doing here is sorting things out and trying to have the world make sense to me. That's what you do with a jigsaw puzzle. Take all the pieces, lay them out and see where you can see a pattern, a natural fit. Then slowly, patiently, put things in place until the picture emerges.

Life is a big puzzle to me. Sometimes I like it that way. When you know you lack a good understanding of the big picture but sense that there's a pattern in place just outside your reach, sometimes you get this sense of awe. And well, I'm an awe junkie. The majesty of the physical world, the complexity of human relations, how simplest thing is ultimately so intricate, the undiscovered limits of knowledge...they all overwhelm me. They point to how small I am, how small each of us and everything is. Yet everything is an essential piece of the puzzle, and without me, without you, with the kittens napping on me as I write, the picture is not complete. Trying to open my eyes to see the bigger picture is a head first bump into the numinous, and it's usually more than I can handle.

So, I try to find the patterns within the puzzle. I want to make things fit and often get frustrated because I can't. I want to understand what I can and puzzled is usually how I end up feeling. Scratching my head, a little confused, sometimes I wonder if I should just give up, but I don't think I'm built that way. I ponder on, sometimes pedantically, sometimes pretentiously, sometimes just with the quiet, bright eyes of a good student who's feeling the light bulbs go off in her own head. It's all I know to do.

I really don't think I'll ever figure things out, but each little piece that I do finally understand somewhat feels like a treasure to me. I can point to my corner of the puzzle and grin. For now, that's good enough for me.

Sunday Scribblings