Puzzles

                

             On earth as it is in heaven.
             Don't deny what has happened to you.
             What you've done.
             Error and malfunction, let me see you.
             From the beginning we've been locked together.
             You knew where this would end.

 

Recently there has been a theme emerging in my life:  Error revealed.  False premise revealed.  I’ve been lucky that these mistakes were small to medium in size.  I could handle them, or someone could help me fix them.  What I’m noticing is that the number of errors revealed to me increased dramatically within a compressed period of time.  The errors were not all committed in that compressed period of time---some were committed earlier.  But they were all revealed in quick succession.  Perhaps I shouldn’t say all.  There surely are more coming.

At any given time, I am busy either solving or building a puzzle, literally and metaphorically.  I’m hardly the first person to begin to see that life itself is (is like?) a puzzle, and that the grid (my life puzzle is a crossword puzzle) with one or two fixed theme entries existed before I became conscious.   Initially my interaction with the puzzle is as a solver.  I see that something isn’t lining up with choices I’ve made so far.  Some choice isn’t working, isn’t right.  There’s an impossibility or a nonsense that’s bothering me in that corner.  I’m not sure which of the colliding assumptions I’ve made is creating the problem.  When faced with this I can: (a) ignore the error and leave that part of the grid alone, maybe even avoid looking at it, hoping others don’t notice; (b) insist that all my choices have been right and that the grid, with its irrefutable and neutral evidence that something is wrong, is the one lying; (c) blame the pre-existing theme entries (born with certain challenges I had no control over) and absolve myself of any accountability for my own solution attempts, deciding that those fixed entries were so bad to begin with that I can’t solve the puzzle or it’s insolvable---i.e., give up; (d) identify the mistake through open-minded, objective, sometimes painful or difficult self-examination (which sets up a new array of possible actions).

That’s solving.  Now I’m into constructing puzzles.  I see that I have this grid, and that I can more consciously fill it with things I enjoy and want to see in a puzzle, and write the clues!  The empty corners contain infinite possibilities; the filled or partially filled corners contain things I might or might not choose to change.  Isn’t this wonderful?  Here’s the rub.  Whatever energy I bring to the solving process shows up in the building process.  I can build in a mistake and think I’ve created something golden.  I can anchor a lot of good things onto that golden error.  The error must some day be revealed; it can’t stay unnoticed forever, it will bear a strange fruit, and depending on the degree of the error, I’ll be faced with choices I don’t welcome, similar to the choices I faced in solving, only more authority is required of me.  I know I authored that, I can't deny it, and I know I’m the one to answer for it.

So you have a puzzle and you see the error you’ve put into it.  What’s next?  Imagine an ideal version of the puzzle.  That grid exists, and you can build your way to it with good tools and the right energy, just as a number of sculptures exist in a single block of wood or stone.  Understand what energy led to the error, and recognize when it’s back at work in you.  Train your brain to recognize the energy patterns in your life that have not worked and avoid giving them space or fuel.  Keep them out of the grid.  Choose your next entry thoughtfully.  The first premise must be the best; it must be double-checked for truth, it must be genuine, as so much else is built on it: things you value, things that will be hard to give up, generating regret.

This is what’s involved in making something (a puzzle, your life) beautiful: 

• Discipline.  Self-discipline, following best practices, being thorough, being conscious, learning from others, teachers and friends.      

•  Instincts.  Knowing something isn’t right, and paying attention to that.  Knowing something is right, and embracing that, trusting that.

• Honesty.  Acknowledging where you’ve erred or gone off the grid, confessing.

• Work.  Diligence, tirelessness, purpose, working through the tough stuff to get to the good stuff.

• Faith.  Believing that an ideal grid exists and that the puzzle you’re solving or building can be almost that good.  When you lose faith, you become disorganized and sabotage the puzzle.

The ideal grid can be revealed.  It can be nearly realized, or more closely realized.  I can find my way to it.  But this requires: Discipline, trusting my instincts, honesty, hard work and faith.