Puzzle me this…
Madison has puzzles. Dozens and dozens of puzzles. Which she pulls out daily and turns our dining room table into a giant-sized puzzle piece quilt. What I find is intriguing is her willingness, her comfort in doing the same puzzles over and over again. We have dozens of puzzles of every shape and size that we have accumulated over the years, but she tends to do the same group all the time. She pulls the boxes from the shelf and then spends hours poring over them until the table is covered in puzzles. (until the puzzle fairy comes at night and puts them all away, ready to start the next time…)
I wish that I could find the same joy she finds in the familiar. It seems that I am not comfortable with “the known.” I am always restless, looking beyond what I have and who I am, not content with what I have.
Don’t get m e wrong, there is nothing wrong with ambition or desire or drive. Or the inclination to explore and try new things. I have all of those things in great abundance.
It’s just that sometimes, I think I need to be a bit more content to work the puzzle that is in front of me.