👩💻Word count, bird count🐦⬛
Memoir, jigsaw puzzle, piece by piece
A light-hearted post today, because we all need lightening up 🔆
I do love birds. (You can take a peek at this past post or this one to see more.) Jigsaw puzzles? I aways considered them to be a time suck for people with nothing better to do. I mean, who has spare time to sit at a table for hours pushing around hundreds of tiny little funny-shaped pieces of cardboard, trying to coax them into making a beautiful picture, when you could be doing yoga/laundry/grocery shopping/cooking/ vacuuming/reading/working out/ doomscrolling/ Zooming/researching/ FaceTiming/ watchingThe White Lotus/Instagramming/WRITING/ etc.?
I actually did succumb to jigsaw puzzling during the pandemic, along with millions of others. The sales of jigsaw puzzles skyrocketed. Turns out that doing jigsaw puzzles is in fact a valuable thing and once I embraced that, I didn’t feel guilty about “wasting” my precious time with them. Especially when I discovered the gorgeous ones by Nautilus Puzzles that have wooden pieces carved into shapes relating to the image. (Pricier than cardboard puzzles, but they make great gifts. And those wooden pieces are wonderful to handle and smell so … woodsy. )
So after reading about how valuable jigsaw puzzling is, especially for older people, (like moi😬) when I recently saw this beautiful bird puzzle, I decided to splurge and invest in it as a birthday present for myself. (Also, Chaucer1. How cool is that?)
It’s occurred to me that jigsaw puzzling kind of parallels this memoir project I’m deeply enmeshed in.
Making the decision to do it. Sorting out the pieces. Beginning to put them together. Getting sections built. Finding the edges. Piece by piece, counting the birds words. Careful placement. Moving them around to fit. Oops— wrong word piece. Rethink. Thoughtful observation. Patience. All in good time. Getting lost in it and then exhausted by it, and needing to take a break.
And that satisfying feeling when the edges come together to form the container for the picture, pieces fall into place and begin forming larger sections, and sections join together to start forming the whole thing. The story begins to take shape.
It’s important to take that break, from both puzzle pieces and keys. I can’t stare at all those little pieces for too long. Likewise with BICHOK. 2 When my butt starts to go to sleep in the chair, it’s time to get up, move, make some noise, look out the window, put a few puzzle pieces into place. (Lucky for me I have an automatic timer. She has a wet nose and scratchy paws and lets me know when it’s time for treats or a walk.)
But back to puzzling. I seek pieces of the right color and shape that will get placed in the right sections. I’ve got the edges pretty well done. I’ve got sections almost finished, and am in the process of joining them up with other sections. It’s so gratifying when two or three or four fit together, that sense of accomplishment, even if it’s only for my eyes. It’s got quite a ways to go before being finished, but I’m not in a rush.*
Which makes me wonder if my memoir will ever be seen by other eyes. Perhaps, but perhaps not. Why am I doing it, spending all this time (started it five years ago!) money (webinars! courses! books! workshops!), creative energy?
Oh well. I’m doing this puzzle/memoir because I said I would, because it’s meaningful, because it’s satisfying and gratifying and gives me a sense of accomplishment.
As Ann Lamott says, just take it bird by bird 🐦⬛. 3
( * actually, I‘m kinda in a rush with the memoir since I started it so late in life.)
Are you a birder/bird lover/bird watcher? Puzzle meister? I dabble in both but am not obsessive by any means. I’m a butterfly— I land on things, get engrossed for awhile, then flutter on to the next. You?
(Here’s an obsessive puzzler for you 🧩 9000 pieces???😳)
P.S. For your amusement and some good laughs, check out Matt Kracht’s hilarious, profanity-laced and irreverent The Field Guide to Dumb Birds of North America published by Chronicle Books. He’s also got one for the whole stupid world. They make great gifts for the bird-lover (or not) in your life.
The Old English poet Geoffrey Chaucer penned the timeless masterpiece, 'The Parliament of Fowls' (also known as 'The Assembly of Fowls'), a work of literary brilliance that emerged between 1375 and 1380. The poem narrates the story of a dream vision in 699 lines and tells of a beautiful garden where all the birds of the air come together to find a mate on St Valentine's Day. In the poem, Nature presides over a debate between three eagles, all vying for the attention of a beautiful female. The other birds, each of which represents a different aspect of English society, are also given a chance to express their opinions. Over a day, each eagle pleads his case in turn. One says he loves her the best, another says he has loved her the longest, and the third claims he would worship her the most. The other exasperated birds, still waiting to make their choice, start to offer conflicting advice, serving as self-proclaimed authorities on the different types of love.
Finally, Nature has enough and decides that the female eagle should choose for herself which of the three to take as a mate.🦅👏
Lamott’s quintessential 1994 book on the writing life was my first real foray into what it meant to write, to be a writer. Among all the writing craft books and authors I’ve delved into since then, it remains an essential pick-me-up as I navigate the journey.
Thanks for reading Continuing Wonderment — it’s more appreciated than you know. Clicking on the 💜 means the world to me, sharing or restacking this post would be FABULOUS, and leaving a little comment is like the best thing ever. 🙏
Thank you for the mention! Puzzling is a great way to focus on something while your subconscious percolates. I would enjoy puzzles, but I have a cat who would enjoy knocking the pieces around even more 😏 Love all those 🍀! (Also, you’re never too old to write memoir!)
Slowly - piece by piece...