am I in love with the pieces,

I found myself staring at an unfinished puzzle on my bed the other night.

Three hundred pieces scattered about—some connected, others still searching for their place amongst things.

And it hit me – this simple question that's been nagging at my soul lately:

Am I in love with the individual moments of putting this life together, or am I just chasing the picture on the box?

Think about it.

When you're working on something you love – writing, cooking, building a business, working out – what part actually lights you up inside?

Is it the quiet Sunday mornings with coffee and your notebook, fingers dancing across keys, thoughts flowing freely? Or is it the finished article, the likes, the shares, the validation?

Is it the thirteenth rep, when your arms are shaking and your mind is begging you to stop? Or is it the defined arms you see in the mirror after months of showing up?

Here's what I'm learning: The finished puzzle is just a moment.

A fleeting snapshot of completion before it all goes back in the box.

But the pieces? They're where ‘life’ happens.

We chase material things—cars, watches, money. Some of us grind relentlessly for them. Days. Months. Years.

Then we get it. That thing we've always wanted. The supposed final piece to our puzzle.

But how long before the satisfaction fades? Before we put this puzzle back into the box, and start hunting for the next big piece?

Everyone talks about 'the journey versus the destination.'

But what if we're asking the wrong question?

Maybe true love isn't about the end result at all.

Maybe it's about finding joy in the mess, the uncertainty, the raw beauty of becoming.

Maybe it's about being present enough to fall in love with the questions themselves, instead of desperately searching for answers.

So I'm asking myself – and you:

What if the scattered pieces ARE the masterpiece?

What if the real magic isn't in some perfect final picture, but in all those small moments when nothing makes sense—yet everything feels exactly right?

Think about your best memories.

They're probably not the achievements, the promotions, or the purchases.

They're the random Tuesday nights with friends. The mistakes that turned into stories. The challenges that showed you who you could become.

Because here's the truth I'm beginning to understand:

YOU are the puzzle.

All your life, you've been chasing this image of completion, this perfect picture on the box. Adding more pieces. More achievements. More validations. Thinking that somehow, someday, you'll finally feel "complete."

But that's the beautiful lie we all tell ourselves. Only to realize—the puzzle was never meant to be finished.

The picture on the box? It's a myth. Just like how the perfect life doesn't exist.

Life isn't the highlight reel we see on social media.

It's not the finished puzzle mounted and framed.

It's the everyday pieces:
- The coffee that's slightly too bitter.
- The workout that feels impossible.
- The draft that isn't quite right.
- The moments that make you question everything.

Some pieces fit perfectly.
Others wait patiently to find their place.
And some might never fit at all.

And maybe, just maybe, learning to love those mismatched pieces – with all their uncertainty and potential – is the whole point.

So I'll ask you one last time:

What are you actually in love with?

The pieces of your daily life, or just the idea of what it all might become?

Think about it. I know I am.

Godspeed.