Every morning, Kim spends her time with her puzzles. People are drawn to puzzles for a surprisingly rich mix of reasons. The most obvious one is the satisfaction of solving something. There’s a genuine dopamine hit when pieces of a puzzle click together or you crack a solution. It’s one of the few activities in life with clear, achievable “wins” that you fully control. There is also the mindful escape aspect of puzzling. Puzzles demand enough focus to quiet the mental chatter about work, news, or whatever else is stressing you out, but aren’t so demanding they create new stress. It’s almost meditative for many people. Most people seek mastery and competence in life and there is the fact that we’re wired to enjoy getting better at things. Whether it’s Wordle, crosswords, or jigsaws, you can see yourself improve, which feels good. Unlike most real-world problems, puzzle failure doesn’t really matter. Getting a 6 on Wordle can just be let go with no consequences. You can struggle, make mistakes, and try again without consequences. It’s the mental equivalent of a video game’s save point. These days, more than ever before, many puzzles become shared experiences. Comparing Wordle scores online may be the best example. I know Kim shows hers with a half dozen people, who’s Wordle fortunes ebb and flow. I suppose they’re a way to connect with friends and family without heavy conversation.
Especially with jigsaw puzzles or games like Sudoku (another of Kim’s favorites), there’s something deeply satisfying about creating order from chaos. Given everything else you deal with in your work and life, that controlled sense of completion probably resonates. I wonder whether anyone has analyzed whether the current state of the world, with all its chaos at the moment, has prompted more puzzling by people who desperately need something they can improve and control where they cannot with world affairs. I suppose that we all have our own coping mechanisms for a world gone mad. I, for one, am far less of a puzzle person than Kim, at least on the surface. I don’t do Wordle or Soduko, but all the elements of puzzle solving are things the I do like in my work. Analyzing problems and crafting creative solutions is what has always motivated me in my work, so perhaps I just have a different puzzle outlet than Kim.
Activities that hit similar psychological notes as puzzles are plentiful. The most common is crafting and making things. Activities like knitting, woodworking, model building and baking…all of which have similar problem-solving aspects, are the most common. You get the same hands-on focus, visible progress, and tangible completion. There’s a reason people say baking bread is therapeutic. At a more fundamental level, simple organizing and tidying can have the same effect. Whether it’s cleaning out a closet or reorganizing your garage, it delivers that same “chaos to order” satisfaction. Totally controllable little world activities are places where you can see immediate results. I have often said that the most therapeutic thing I do is sweep out the garage. It just feels good and fulfilling to do menial tasks that can be completed.
Some people (particularly younger ones) find the same is true of video games (especially certain types). Strategy games, city builders like Cities: Skylines, or farming sims like Stardew Valley offer low-stakes problem-solving with clear goals.
I will also make the case that gardening offers a variety of the same benefits. It combines planning, problem-solving, and gradual but visible progress. I find that I prefer the immediate gratification of planting, so I tend to buy bigger plants rather than having the patience to plant seedlings and wait for them to grow. I don’t think it’s a profound or righteous difference with people who will patiently await a garden to blossom and grow into its full potential, but it does probably tell you something about what one person wants to get out of gardening versus what another might be seeking. And then there’s the issue that there’s something meditative about the repetitive tasks of activities like gardening. You’re working toward something concrete but can’t completely force the timeline. I’ve now planted two Oroblanco grapefruit trees, one clementine tangerine tree and a 4-in-1 pear tree. The grapefruits have given me fruit within the first year of planting. The tangerine and pear trees are longer term projects where I have no clue when they are likely to fruit. I suppose my desperate need for fresh fruit is only so great (I mean, I can buy fruit whenever I want at WinCo, right?), but I do think it is a step forward for me to do some long-term gardening for a change.
The other activities that give me things that puzzle solving gives Kim are really two-fold. Recently, my diet and exercise routine is a form of problem-solving that I record and track in an attempt to bring about noticeable change…this time in my own body and mind. It’s working so far, but I must admit I am puzzling about how to keep it working. Things like weightlifting with progressive overload, or treadmill walking where you track pace/distance are examples. Clear metrics, controllable improvement, mindful focus during the activity itself are all puzzles being solved.
The most puzzle-like activity I do is my writing. To begin with, like my gardening, I prefer the more immediate gratification of the short-form, hence the fact that I write 1200-1500 word stories every day. Like doing Wordle, I have an approach that has a formulaic aspect to it. I know how long the story will be and I generally know the range of topics I will emphasize. The arc of the story is predictable and I know I can complete it in a timeframe that does not jam up my day. I can get ahead of my daily task when I have free time and there is room for total creativity if I feel the urge. And best of all, there is the completion element. When I finish a story I feel fulfilled and enjoy the sense of accomplishment. Sometimes I get a Wordle score of 3 or 4, but once in while I get a 2 and it makes me feel great.
The common thread of puzzles is that its an activity that offers structure, visible progress, and mental engagement without high stakes. It is basically the opposite of “another thing to worry about.“ When people talk to me about my writing (Gary never understands how I can keep coming up with topics on which to write), I tell them that the moment writing becomes a chore rather than a pleasure, I will probably stop doing it. I suspect Kim will do the same if and when Wordle becomes too onerous. Life is a puzzle that few of us can really ever figure out. So, instead, we make up our own puzzle-solving ploys to keep us going. That’s how we each solve our own puzzle of life.