I look at the last of the puzzle pieces, all the same shade of blue. There are lots of them. Again, I have saved the hardest for last. I could stop here; the interesting bits are done. I’ve marvelled at the patterns of the New York streets and noted the scarcity of green parkland.
Do I stop here? Give up? There’s no real reason to finish.
I fellow traveller of old said something that surprised me. She said that, having read 20 pages of a book, she will read to the last page even though she’s not enjoying it. She thought she was avoiding waste, ensuring her time with those 20 pages was ultimately justified. It was the real waste, the opportunity cost, that left me unimpressed.
How can I justify finishing when simply finishing is not enough? I’m already comfortable with the idea of an unfinished puzzle and previously posted on the topic.
And I found my answer while remembering past posts.
The creative brain requires these challenges. Attention is focussed. Problems are solved. Even using my left hand is a neuron booster. There is no waste.
I look down at the last of the puzzle pieces and notice the subtle yet significant differences between them. Each one is unique; there is only one spot into which each will fit. My interest returns.
I wonder if neurons are boosted by reading a book you don’t like?