I Am a Philosopher - Stepping Back to See Anew

We never said it was a traditional activity, but each year, a day or so after Christmas, we find ourselves in the toy section of a store picking out a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle.  There is something about the change of pace that comes with the passing of the holiday that invites a quiet stay-in-the-house activity and we set up the card table and begin our project.  We have an unspoken process...I search for all the end pieces and begin to build the frame; he takes the rest of the pieces out of the box, turns them over and begins to sort them by color.  Time passes unnoticed as we focus, staring at the same pieces trying to discern some hidden meaning in the shape and gradation of colors.  Periodically we cheat a little and consult the box to see "how it is supposed to look in the end."  At some point hunger takes me into the kitchen and I leave the card table to fix us a sandwich or a bowl of soup.  Returning to the table after my break, my eyes drift down to the table and suddenly I see a fit.  My eyes can see a match or a pattern that was invisible to me earlier.  My fingers fly for a few minutes, fitting in newly discovered pieces until my eyes begin to glaze over again...searching.

Lessons about life or reminders about life's process come unexpectedly.  Isn't this often how I pursue the solution in other areas of my life?  My mind become obsessed with a problem to be solved or situation to be remedied.  Like a dog gnawing on a chew toy I turn it this way and that, over and over in my head struggling with the next step.  I forget to step away from it for a while...to give it time to percolate and to give my mind a rest.  When I do that, I often find that when the thoughts begin to creep back into my consciousness, I have a new perspective, I can see the situation differently, I can see a pattern that was not visible to me before. 
Life isn't a jigsaw puzzle and it doesn't come with a picture on the box so I can see what it will look like at the end. In fact, it isn't even a project but a process.  And any control that I might have is not in how the end product will look, but in how I approach and act in the process.  Wouldn't my life be more serene if I took a few breaks, stepped away to enjoy a sandwich or a bowl of soup and then calmly returned to the process with eyes that might see something that was invisible to me before?