I rarely get out of bed in the morning until The New York Times declares me “Amazing” as I strive to complete its Spelling Bee. Occasionally I rise as a “Genius," though that’s typically achieved later in the day. Either way, post-retirement, I’m hooked on this morning puzzle that accesses, my word, acumen.
Not too long ago, in my crazed career days, I’d hear friends mentioning Words with Friends, Candy Crush, Solitaire or other online games for the brain. Beyond disinterest, I thought these pursuits a silly waste of time. Occasionally I’d tackle crossword puzzles, but since my knowledge of arcane poetry, popes and Pulitzer Prize winners are limited, it was usually an exercise in frustration.
Enter the pandemic and the many added hours at home. As we all learned, boredom can be an unwitting motivator. Suddenly that long-overlooked 1000-piece jigsaw puzzle buried in the closet seemed a worthy effort. It took me forever just to get the border pieces in place. But before long I found myself looking forward to my puzzling evening hours. I couldn’t believe how satisfying it was to maneuver those fabulous fits. When completed, I thought my puzzle was "The Best Ever" scene of the Italian village, Cinque Terre.
Many challenging jigsaws followed. I was hooked — hooked on the focus required, the escapism provided and the soothing rhythm of piecing parts together. In retrospect, I’m calling these jigsaws perfect gateway puzzles. You could say I was primed for a bigger addiction.
Then, like so many of you, I met The New York Times game Wordle. Wow, what an instant charm! What impossible simplicity! Who can resist the quick, daily dose rush of this instantaneous brain teaser? The high of a three-guess win. The sting of a six-tries loss. Predictably, I’ve added several new puzzles to my daily routine.
So here’s my confession. I’ve changed my mind completely. Puzzling isn’t silly. It’s serious! And here’s why.
Puzzles may provide some with a sense of control and competence. This is especially true during periods of stress and chaos. When the future feels troubling, puzzles may provide a respite of calm and a feeling of command. Whatever challenges we are facing — be they terrible or trivial — puzzles provide an “I’ve got this” moment. We anticipate the pleasure of completing the puzzle, the sense of satisfaction and the accompanying burst of dopamine in our brains (more on this later).
It’s no wonder I now enjoy a morning puzzle — it’s a start-of-day confidence boost. Of course, practice matters. Puzzling, like most efforts, is a skill. You get better at it. Need more convincing?