Finding the missing piece of the puzzle

If you’re a regular reader of this column, you’re probably aware of my love of jigsaw puzzles.

I was down to the last few pieces of what, for me, had been a very challenging 1000-piece puzzle. I could feel a familiar sense of accomplishment building inside me.

Humans have what’s known as a “completion bias.” We like to finish a task, because when we do, dopamine is released by the brain, making us feel good.

It wasn’t until I sat back to take in the beauty of the finished picture that my eyes were drawn to the middle of the scene and a puzzle piece shaped section of white. A piece was missing.

Suddenly my satisfaction was gone. I looked on the floor and under the box. Because the puzzle was new. The piece had to be somewhere. I remembered I’d moved the puzzle downstairs while we’d been away. I searched in the basement. No luck.

I asked my partner if he had seen the piece and when he said no, I sighed and remarked that I’d have to throw the puzzle out. I went on to explain I would never buy a secondhand puzzle. I didn’t want to invest a lot of time in something only to discover it was incomplete. He just looked at me with an eyebrow lifted.

As is often the case, his expression got me thinking. Was I overreacting? Was the missing puzzle piece offering me an opportunity to learn something about myself?

After considering the situation from a less emotional perspective, I accepted that the answer to both these questions was probably “yes.” If fact, I was being given a great opportunity to think more deeply about the way humans tend to feel about incompletion and imperfection.

Here’s what I learned.

Incompletion isn’t wrong or bad

Incompletion is a normal part of life. There will always be times when, for a variety of reasons, you aren’t able to finish something. Maybe you leave your job before a project is wrapped up, or the parts you need for something you’re building are no longer available.

When this happens, your best plan is to accept what is. Take a deep breath and release your need for completion.

This strategy also works if you choose to give up or change directions because that serves you more than continuing until something is finished. Make your decision with a clear conscience. It doesn’t mean you’ve failed.

Incompletion builds resourcefulness and flexibility

Sometimes not being able to finish leaves an opening for creativity and problem solving. How can you course-correct, or adapt the original plan? This way of thinking encourages resourcefulness and flexibility which are both important for fostering wellbeing and resilience.

Release your need for perfection

Although people frequently strive for it, there’s no such thing as perfection. What you’re probably aiming for is a specific outcome, that you think will provide you with your desired goal.

If that isn’t what you end up with, don’t think you’ve failed or that the result is worthless. In the case of my puzzle, it was important for me to remember that one missing piece shouldn’t take away from the beauty and accomplishment of the other 999.

Shift to a more positive perspective

This builds on the previous point. Believing that one tiny blemish ruins everything else isn’t a positive way of viewing the world. I love things that are quirky and unusual. It makes them unique. So, why did I react so strongly to a missing puzzle piece? I took it as a sign that I have more inner work to do.

Value the journey more than the outcome

The joy is in the journey, is a well-known saying. As soon as I discovered that a piece was missing, I released all the satisfaction I was feeling. I overlooked the accomplishment of putting 99.9% of the puzzle together successfully and all the fun I had doing it.

It turns out that dealing with a missing puzzle piece provided me with so much more than a moment of frustration. It gifted me with both a column idea and a learning opportunity.

If you’re wondering whether I kept the incomplete puzzle, the answer is yes. In fact, only a few days ago my partner told me he’d found something I’d be really happy about. I was mystified and made a few incorrect guesses.

He told me to look on the counter. I scanned the surface. When I saw a puzzle piece, my first reaction was confusion. It took me a moment or two to remember there’d ever been had an incomplete jigsaw. What had seemed so important at the time had completely faded from my memory.

I wasn’t even sure which puzzle it had come from. So, I made an educated guess and dropped into one of the boxes with the other 999, or maybe 1,000 pieces.

I may have to put all my puzzles together again to figure out if I guessed the right box. I suspect that by the time that happens, I’ll have forgotten a piece was ever lost or even that it was eventually found.

Yep, life is funny like that.

This article is written by or on behalf of an outsourced columnist and does not necessarily reflect the views of Castanet.