Puzzle Therapy

One of my favorite pasttimes is solving jigsaw puzzles. I love the feel of the pieces and the shapes. I only like 500 - 750 piece puzzles with intense, vivid colors. I begin by finding the edge pieces so that the rest of the puzzle will find a context in which to fit.

Over time I have discovered that there are several therapeutic levels to my puzzling. I find that if I am stressed, my anxiety abates as I do the puzzle. I am able to sort through current problems and concerns. And, if I am grieving putting together a puzzle is especially helpful. I suppose it is something about being able to put together something that is broken, to bring order back from chaos.

When our family cat died years ago, I found that assembling cat puzzles was very comforting. There was something wonderful about finding the puzzle cats' faces, tails, and fur that helped soothe me for a time.

Then, after 9/11, I found some comfort in completing puzzles of New York City that contained the World Trade Center. This was much more satisfying than merely seeing pictures of my world intact. As I fitted the pieces of the Twin Towers together, I felt I was mending something deep within my psyche.

Recently, I attribute an even greater value to my puzzle activities. About three months ago, my mother died. She was a very active woman who, in her early nineties, was still working full time as an attorney. She was still driving from her home in Manhattan to her country home in Connecticut and entertaining friends, attending opera at Lincoln Center and walking home alone at night. Suddenly, she had a stroke and was gone within four days.

The shock of all this affected my thought process. I would start doing something and then forget to finish. I'd lose a book and then discover it had been right in front of my eyes. I couldn't seem to find my place in the world and was only really focused when I was working in my office with clients.

I became very busy with the paperwork of death and had little time for anything else. Puzzles I had purchased just before Mother's stroke remained in their boxes. I had no interest in them. But then, about three days ago, I decided to clear some space on my desk and attempt a new puzzle. And, the funniest thing has happened. As I search for the pieces, my mind is synthesizing everything else again. I have begun to feel like myself once more. I am not as scattered and my focus has improved. The colors of my world are more vivid. This goes beyond my conscious awareness; it is as if the pieces of my mind are again fitting together.