Until recently, I had not engaged in assembling a jigsaw puzzle for at least two decades. I associated puzzles primarily with children, dismissing them in favor of activities I deemed more engaging or productive.
On a dreary autumn afternoon, while sorting through items at home, I rediscovered a jigsaw puzzle that had remained unopened since my husband and I received it as a gift a few years back. Perhaps it was boredom while my husband was engrossed in a movie that didn’t capture my interest, but I impulsively decided to tackle the puzzle. To my surprise, I became instantly captivated.
This particular 1,000-piece puzzle featured a delightful depiction of Agatha Christie at her writing desk, cleverly incorporating subtle nods to her literary works. Completing it took me a couple of weeks, as I dedicated anywhere from five minutes to two hours at a time, depending on my schedule. The experience was so enjoyable that I found myself resisting the temptation to work on the puzzle despite having other responsibilities. It proved to be oddly addictive.
I have now developed a fascination with puzzles. There is a unique satisfaction in discovering the perfect piece for a specific spot, connecting sections, and gradually progressing toward the final image. Each successful placement of a piece brings a small rush of excitement and accomplishment, providing a sense of fulfillment earned through effort rather than mindlessly scrolling through social media.
While I am sure there are effective strategies for assembling puzzles, I have yet to learn them, and I don’t start with the edges. For me, the enjoyment is not in completing the puzzle swiftly, but rather in the journey itself.
I found that initial puzzle during a particularly stressful time in my life. Transitioning to freelancing, getting married, quitting my job, and relocating abroad all occurred within a three-week span, leaving me feeling overwhelmed. Engaging with the puzzle unexpectedly alleviated my anxiety in a way that other methods had not.
As someone who tends to overthink and struggles with uncertainty, I have tried numerous techniques over the years to ease my mind and body. While I enjoy walking, it often leads to spiraling thoughts. Reading can be challenging as my mind wanders, necessitating repeated readings of the same page. When watching TV or films, I am easily distracted by the urge to check my phone. Meditation and yoga feel impossible for me, as I find it difficult to remain still.
Puzzling, in contrast, demands my complete attention. The tactile nature of picking up pieces and arranging them prevents me from using my phone simultaneously. I appreciate that this activity does not involve any screens. Much of my life revolves around my computer, phone, or television—whether I’m following a workout app at the gym or listening to a podcast on a walk—but puzzling is a purely analog experience. It has become an unexpectedly mindful activity that calms my racing thoughts and helps me unwind.
Since that first puzzle, I have acquired a few more, but I find joy in redoing each one multiple times. I am even contemplating purchasing a roll-up puzzle mat to safely store my progress, as puzzles can inconveniently occupy most of the dining table or a significant portion of the floor for weeks.
Recently, when a group of friends in their thirties visited while I was working on a jigsaw, we discovered that we all share a fondness for this pastime, debunking the notion that puzzles are solely for children. It is reassuring to know that I can always turn to a puzzle in moments of anxiety. Perhaps it was the missing element in my life all along.
