Puzzling

There is something most alarming about working your way through a jigsaw puzzle, and nearing the end realising that you are going to be short a few pieces. You're not sure exactly how many pieces are missing, but there is a distinct feeling that it could be more than a few. Yet you have persevered through the 450 or so pieces, and there is no turning back or rethinking your commitment to the puzzle, and so you press on. And in the search for the final few pieces (the haze of inky-blacky-green seaweed) you never really know if the piece you are hunting for will be found. Now this may kill off the enjoyment of the puzzle for some, but I kept going telling myself this conundrum just added a new dimension to the search for pieces. And while the parallels for a life well lived are a little obvious perhaps, it was a nice reminder that while all the elements of a life may be implied, they might not always be within grasp. That it is the practice of putting the little pieces together, one-by-one, that is important. And while I tell myself this, and try not to dwell on the missing pieces, I keep wondering where they are: musta got sucked up the vacuum cleaner, or the dog ate them, or more likely they were transferred to the Barbie's doll house to become fancy coloured dinner plates. Hmmmm...Puzzling....