What is the point of a puzzle you can’t complete?
Yesterday I began a jigsaw, and after a while I set it aside, looking forward to completing the puzzle today.
I woke to find my dog had chewed one puzzle piece into splinters of wood and tiny shreds of coloured paper.
My heart sank. I felt an impulse to throw the whole thing away, after all, what is the point of a puzzle you can’t complete?

I enjoyed the puzzle more than any other, because I let go of “this puzzle is ruined,” and simply explored the question – what would the finished puzzle look like and where would the gap be? In the end, I love the new asteroid my dog added to my colourful universe.
Years ago, I sat in my first insight retreat afraid of letting go into the space of not knowing. I wasn’t sure what I would find, or whether I would like what I found. After a few days of sitting with the full catastrophe, what I found was a space where I could meet myself in the moment with compassion and loving kindness. I learned that life isn’t about looking for answers, it is about living the questions.
