The magic of giving and receiving puzzle pieces. (Redux)
Dear Readers,
I thought I’d resurface a post from two years ago. Looking back, the writing feels average, but the message feels above average and may be of service during the myriad gatherings this holiday weekend in the US.
Happy Thanksgiving.
“Each lifetime consists of pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. For some, there are more pieces. For others, the puzzle is more difficult to assemble.
But know this: you do not have within yourself all the pieces to your puzzle. Everyone carries with them at least one and probably many pieces to someone else’s puzzle. Sometimes they know it; sometimes they don’t know it.
And when you present a piece, which is worthless to you, to another, whether you know it or not, whether they know it or not, you are a messenger from the Most High.”
– Harold Kushner, American rabbi, Living a Life That Matters.
Years ago, I observed a two-year-old throwing a tantrum at a store in the mall. She wanted a stuffed animal. Her mom told her no. The girl kept nagging and mom kept shopping. From a mile away, you could see what would come next. The toddler went into full meltdown mode – screaming and stamping, then lying on her back making a snow angel.
We parents have been there before. We just want the scene to stop, our kids to behave, and the judgmental looks from others to go away.
As the mother started to yank her daughter upright and raise her voice, she stopped. Instead, she kneeled. Tenderness filled her eyes as she gently lifted her, pulled her close, and asked her what color she wanted—saying it would be important to know for their next trip back to the store.
I wasn’t sure if the mom typically responded that way or if she decided to take a new approach this time. The way she seemed to change course in the moment, I think it was the latter. I’ll never know.
What I do know is that as a father of twin daughters about the same age, I stood in awe about six feet away while the mother, a total stranger, gave me a piece to my parenting puzzle that day by responding with love and gentleness vs. reacting with anger and discipline—more typical of my approach until then.
At the end of an exemplary performance review during the middling years of corporate employment, I asked my boss if she had any constructive feedback for me.
She gazed out the window for what felt too long while my insecurities wondered about the depth of her list. “James, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way. You’re too nice. You should try and piss people off more.”
I looked at her dumbfounded.
“I don’t think you’ll actually be able to piss people off,” she said smiling, “even if you try. But by trying, it will force you to be more direct and tell people what they need to hear. What you share is valuable and could be pivotal for their development. And James, this might be even more important; you’ll need to let go of that damn worry of yours about how they’ll receive what you have to offer.”
It was my turn to gaze out the window.
The words ‘piss people off’ and ‘let go of that damn worry’ reverberated inside me. I’d spent my life trying to please people and not make waves. I’d never considered that I’d been withholding something of value to others.
I would later realize the pieces my boss gave me that day—candor and trust—were missing from my puzzle and became keystones in my ability to share fully with others.
We can even receive puzzle pieces from ourselves.
A close friend in her seventies retired from running a retreat center in the Pacific Northwest. For decades, she started her day looking after the lovely grounds—pruning shrubs and hand-watering plants before assuming her executive duties inside the center.
A few weeks after her last day on the job, she began to experience anxiety attacks. She had no prior history. Medical tests revealed nothing out of the ordinary.
After months of suffering and feeling a void of purpose, something inside told her to see if the center would allow her to return as a volunteer groundskeeper. They welcomed her back, and the attacks went away. She discovered her angst was the absence of being with nature – tending to the living greenery every morning.
A puzzle piece from within, in the form of anxiety, directed her back to nature so that she, in turn, could offer the puzzle piece of her loving care to the hostas and hydrangeas.
Even in the unlikeliest of places, and sometimes in the unexpected of carriers, Kushner’s messengers from the “Most High” are either right in front of us or nearby—serving up precisely what we need.
The Dalai Lama tells a story about Lopan-la, a friend and monk who was captured when China occupied Tibet in the 1950s. Lopan-la was sentenced to hard labor in prison for eighteen years. He was tortured regularly.
When Lopan-la was released, only 20 of the 130 prisoners had survived.
Lopan-la returned to India and reconnected with the Dalai Lama. He told of harrowing conditions—especially the cold. When he spit, it would become ice before hitting the ground. He went without shoes, and his toes regularly suffered frostbite. He went without food for such long stretches one time he tried to eat the dead body of a fellow monk, but the flesh was too hard to bite.
As he recounted his almost two decades of torture and all the dangers he faced, Lopan-la told the Dalai Lama that the biggest danger of all was not losing his fellow monks, or losing a limb, or losing his life.
He said his biggest danger of all was “losing his compassion for his Chinese guards.”
For Lopan-la his greatest threat was losing his humanity. Losing his loving-kindness toward all human beings. Losing his heart.
No matter our circumstances, there is always a puzzle piece to receive. We have to be willing to look and listen, to see and hear – even if it comes as a torturous prison guard.
At the same time, there is always a puzzle piece for us to offer. We have to be willing to share it—with our words, with our actions, and through our way of being.
Every day, as Lopan-la practiced loving-kindness in the face of his circumstances, perhaps his beautiful puzzle piece of compassion found its way into the Chinese guards, even if unknowingly, even if only in a small way.
May we hope so.
For Further Exploration
Living a Life that Matters, Harold Kushner
The Book of Joy: Lasting Happiness in a Changing World, Dalai Lama, Desmond Tutu, Doug Abrams
“You’ll need to let go of that damn worry of yours about how they’ll receive what you have to offer.” That line alone is enough to change the way someone’s conception of themselves and how they engage with the world. I felt those words stick to my bones.
This essay found me at the exact right time. Thank you for writing, James.
Love your writings, Jamie. Your folks would be so proud. Miss you.
“Aunt” Nancy