This is the second part of a two-part post that won’t make any sense if you haven’t read THE FIRST PART.

Continuing on…

–>What doesn’t make sense now, might later.

I can look at a little, nine-square grid and see many missing blocks and I’ll think to myself, “None of that makes any sense.” But, I’ll go about solving other parts of the puzzle and some of those empty spots in that mostly-empty grid will get filled in via the process, up until the point where there are only a couple of empty spots left. Then, I’ll look at those few remaining spaces and I’ll think, “Well, it’s obvious what goes in that spot and what goes there, and look, it’s done.”

Not every puzzle you face in life is ready to be solved when you first encounter it. Sometimes, the puzzle needs to be worn down by the passage of time and the changing circumstances; only then might you be able to solve it.

Additionally, I sometimes cheat. I cheat because, the way I do things, I face each daily puzzle from my calendar and I won’t move on until I finish the puzzle that I have in front of me (that’s how I do it). If I get stuck on a puzzle for too long (two days or three days or four), then I feel a pressure to just cheat to get the answer. So, I’ll turn the puzzle over and look at the answers on the back, just to get one of the blocks that I need –> I don’t usually need more than that. I hate doing it, and I won’t do it unless I really am in need. But, even this has its own little lesson.

You might not be prepared to solve every puzzle when you come against it. Sometimes, you need to be a better you to be able to solve the hardest puzzles.

–>The biggest win comes from the longest odds and it tastes the sweetest.

There really isn’t much joy for me, anymore, in completing easy-level puzzles. I do it to stay up on my practice, but it’s not a challenge to my skill set. I can’t imagine Michael Jordan would be that impressed with himself, were he to win a game of horse against some sixth-grader. Antonio Esfandiari, one of the greatest poker players in recent years, would not be that enthused in a win against me and my poker buddies.

But, when I have been struggling with a puzzle that is particularly rough, one that started with only a quarter of the blocks as given (there are 81 blocks to be solved in a Sudoku puzzle), and I have battled and persevered and succeeded, those puzzles are worth a little cheer of success.

–>Sometimes, luck is all there is.

There are certain puzzles, of the most difficult level, when you get to the place where you have deployed all of your tactical approaches and wisdom and learned maneuvers and the puzzle won’t budge. It might be down to a single block that only can only be one of a couple of possibilities and the only choice for you to make is the choice to guess. Those are the puzzles that you complete in pencil. When it comes time to make that guess, and you play out the rest of the puzzle and you make it to the end having had your guess justified, then you can fill in those blocks with a pen. Otherwise, when you make your choice and it turns out, ten or twelve or twenty blocks ahead, that your guess was the wrong one, you’ll be glad to you did the puzzle in pencil.

For me, having my back up against the wall with no other option but to take a chance and see how it turns out, I hate having to guess. And, when faced with a guess, I will try to look as far ahead into the puzzle, based on that one guess, as I can look to see whether or not the whole things pans out. Maybe there are times when all you can do is your best and the rest is up to luck.

And so, Sudoku has taught me much about life. I’d encourage you to find a hobby that will challenge you to be its master. Perhaps you can rise to the challenge and learn your own lessons along the way.