WHEN THE PUZZLE STARTS WITH MISSING PIECES

When I do a puzzle, I start with the assumption that I could end up with an incomplete picture.  Even when a puzzle has arrived on my desk unopened, fresh from the factory, there is a possibility that I could be missing a piece or more.  The "Unknowing" is part of the journey of puzzling... and maybe that is why I find it such a spiritual experience. 

I did this puppy puzzle yesterday that came with the note on the box that two pieces were indeed missing.  It was a puzzle I got from my Mom.  It is most likely older than I am.  These puzzles get extra special attention from me.  I feel like my life is wrapped up in its story.  This puzzle had a lot of very random cut pieces.  Very unique.  Not much uniformity in the cut pattern.  

I have been somewhat successful in filling in the missing pieces of my puzzles with a few pencil crayons and paper.  Most times, I can blend in the hole very well and it isn't even visible until you look real close.  I think I have lucked out for the most part.  The missing pieces I have had, so far, have been somewhat easy to fill in. 

I woke up this morning with a disturbing thought.  

"People really don't want to know the whole me; they only want to know the part of me that makes them feel good." 

I wonder if I am this puzzle that comes with these holes and it takes a lot of effort to fill them in.  Who is really up for that challenge?  Relationships are like a puzzle.  They are assembled over time.  Each interaction puts another piece into place.  Eventually with time, we can see a picture emerge.  Sometimes we stop assembling when we have enough of the picture for our own comfort and understanding.  Some pieces are harder to place than others and it is easy to quit mid process.  

I spent some time in the hot tub this morning pondering further what I felt about my revelation.  I came to another understanding.

"I don't need to be fully known to exist, but I may feel that to exist, I need to be fully known.  So what if my need to be fully known becomes more important than my need to exist?  I may find myself in a place where I will chose one or the other.  So right now... in that place, I chose to exist and surrender my need to be fully known."

I can understand why people with missing pieces or incomplete puzzles want to take themselves out.  Being a finished puzzle becomes more important than being a puzzle with missing or unplaced pieces.  The need to be known is more important than finding space to be valuable even in the unknownness.  

I can't say it won't still be a struggle for me.  I still want people to see me and know me as I am, not as I was or as they wish I could be.  But I can't control the rate at which others assemble the puzzle that is me.  I can only do what I can to make available the pieces for them when they are ready.