Attachment and suffering:

Creativity lessons from watching my toddler puzzle

Photo by Jonny Gios on Unsplash

“The root of suffering is attachment.” – Buddha

My husband David reminded me of this quote from the Buddha as we talked about the ways our daughter works at jigsaw puzzles. I’ve never liked this idea particularly because attachment means caring, and what good is living without caring? But of course, the Buddha knew that.

It’s also true that much of our suffering comes from needless attachment. My own difficulty in the early phase of a writing project often comes from attaching to what I’ve already written or decided. I like to edit, but while I do, I chastise myself for not getting it right, and I mourn as the word count falls. I fret as sentences I once liked evaporate with a single keystroke.  

Studying my toddler’s habits as she puzzles is changing my attitude. It’s her favorite activity these days. But her approach often baffles me:  

·       She’s always disassembling and rebuilding. She puts eight pieces together over here, and five pieces together over there. Then, when she realizes she needs to fit them together, she will move each piece from the smaller group to the bigger group one at a time. Losing all credit for what she has done. She knows how to slide a group of pieces over, but she likes it better this way.

·       Her approach changes every time. She switches up the order based on her preferences in the moment. No going back to what has worked in the past. This morning she started by putting Daniel Tiger together. This afternoon she started with Katerina Kittycat.  

·       She welcomes misfits. When a piece that looks like it should fit doesn’t, she doesn’t get angry. She doesn’t jam it in or throw it. She calmly, deliberately, tries the next spot. She might leave a piece where it clearly doesn’t belong for a while, then comes back to it later.

·       Sometimes she even asks for help.

·       She has no attachment to what she has made. When she finishes, even after a solid hour at work, she cheers “I did it!” and promptly starts taking each piece apart to start over.

Oh, to write this way. Unafraid to pull things apart and start over. Unafraid to do something different than the last time. Patient when something doesn’t work. Unafraid to ask for help. Unattached to the finished product; eager to begin again.  

Her puzzling is a circle, not a line. After the completing comes the taking apart. All with a concentrated little smile on her face.