When we come into this world, we are, metaphorically, given what appears to be a sealed box filled with colorful puzzle pieces. Without direction, we assume that this box was curated specifically for us with thoughtful intent. We assume that this collection of pieces are all, in fact, intended to be part of our finished puzzle. We assume that each of these hand-picked waypoints will help us to identify the missing pieces needed to complete our picture and observe ourselves as a whole… What if I told you that the box wasn’t sealed when you received it? What if I told you that some of the pieces inside that box belonged to someone else? What if I told you that, amongst all the clutter and disarray, some of the pieces do represent the light of your nature and individuality? In this first official installment of In-Perspective, I’ll be exploring the concept of life as a puzzle, how we can identify the pieces that belong to us, and how we can leverage them toward a more complete picture.
For many of us, we might feel, or have felt, a divide between what we perceive as our identity, and other parts of our life; certain things that we believe to be part of our complete picture, but don’t quite interweave with the pieces of our authentic self. In many cases, believing that all of these pieces must fit together, we attempt to re-shape our authenticity, or create intermediary pieces to bridge the gap between these ill-fitting pieces. While this can be a temporary solution, we inevitably reach a point of restlessness or dissatisfaction with our lives, and often begin to blame ourselves for not fitting into the picture we’re trying to arrange. Personally, I believe that this is because the ill-fitting pieces we try so hard to hold onto are almost exclusively edge and corner pieces that limit our ability to expand and build outward. We convince ourselves that the pieces we’re given are meant to be part of our complete picture, and that our journey through life is where we’ll find the missing “middle“ pieces that connect everything together in a neat and seamless way.
When did we first open this box of puzzle pieces? When did we become aware of the box? For the sake of this thought exercise, let’s assume that we became aware of it, and responsible for its stewardship, as we crossed the threshold into adulthood. What most of us will naturally assume, what I assumed, is that upon accepting stewardship of this box, every piece within it is meant to be there. I’ll choose to argue that, by nature, this box starts out containing only the pieces representing our authenticity and intrinsic personality; the fundamental building blocks of “self”. However, by the time we accept its stewardship, there are bound to be additional pieces within it. Some of these pieces may represent healthy relationships and ideological principles, collected throughout childhood that are meant to be part of our complete picture. Others, however, are pieces that were never ours to begin with. These might represent generational trauma that our family bestowed on us, even if unintentionally, as they were unable or unwilling to put in the work to resolve it themselves. Others might represent toxic relationships or negative self-beliefs that we acquired because of this trauma.
It is my belief that, when confronted with the task of identifying the pieces that are our own, the more we find and embrace our own authenticity, the more easily we can identify the pieces that don’t belong. What held me back, as I’m sure has held many people back, from dismissing my ill-fitting pieces was the empathetic assumption that because others had invested in me, or that I had invested myself in a way of thinking, I was obligated to maintain loyalty to these people or beliefs. After putting in the work to identify and cut out the pieces that didn’t fit in my own life, I can tell you that this obligation of loyalty is categorically false. We don’t always choose who invests in us, or what kind of investment they make. Although we’re taught to hold selflessness as a noble value, there are many times in life where being selfish is healthy and necessary. At the end of the day, if something is consistently detracting from your happiness, or is standing in the way of your personal growth, it does not deserve your loyalty or a place in your picture.
“Mark this feeling in the simplest shape. Let me finally let it fall away.” - Rings, Pinegrove
After putting in the work to filter out what we don’t need, there is still the matter of assembling the pieces we’ve kept. When I initially had the idea to write this post, the first images that came to mind were of puzzle pieces connected and assembled from left to right, along an X/Y axis. If we assume that the X axis represents time, and the Y axis represents growth, our “finished” puzzles will, inherently, never become a perfect portrait, framed with neat, straight edges and ninety-degree corners. As a perfectionist, this is extremely unsatisfactory. However, I feel like this is the most realistic representation. With this in mind, rather than striving for a completed picture, I believe that we should instead pursue as much personal growth as possible. Even while knowing that we are working to tell a story within an imperfect shape, and knowing that our time is both variable and finite, the more growth we can achieve, the more pieces we can discover, and the more detailed and dynamic of a story we can portray with the time we do have.
Which pieces do you want to keep?
-Kurtis
"Personally, I believe that this is because the ill-fitting pieces we try so hard to hold onto are almost exclusively edge and corner pieces that limit our ability to expand and build outward."
This is a profound way of thinking about self-limitation. Those tasty, tasty corner and edge pieces that you start with, set down, and forget about. Whether or not intended, the are the last pieces of us that we'd consider being out of place..