Dear Reader,
This past week, I traveled to Chicago on a service trip sponsored by our Campus Ministry. It was an amazing, truly transformative experience with the Campus Ministers and other students. What I want to do in this week's issue is share one of the many profound insights I gained while there.
This week's focus: The puzzle piece.
While navigating Chicago's public transportation, we found ourselves discussing how our friend Jawad is like the centerpiece of a puzzle set. The reason was simple yet profound: he fits in with almost everyone around him, regardless of the situation. He can befriend strangers within minutes, and the most remarkable part is his authenticity. Jawad doesn't perform or pretend; he simply is who he is. That's why I didn't redact his name—he's genuinely a great guy.
So, let's explore the puzzle piece metaphor.
If we were to associate people with puzzle pieces, I believe we'd find three distinct types:
- The middle pieces
- The edge pieces
- The squares (not truly a puzzle piece)
Jawad exemplifies the perfect middle piece. He connects effortlessly, navigates social landscapes with ease, and radiates an infectious energy that draws people toward him. Other middle pieces need not be as dynamic—even moderately social individuals can cultivate rich, meaningful networks.
The edge piece represents many of us. We typically connect on one or two sides, with limited social bandwidth. Our hesitation often stems from deeper emotions: a fear of judgment, the potential for emotional exhaustion, or simply feeling uncomfortable in extended social interactions.
Then there are the squares—not a genuine puzzle piece at all. A square exists in isolation, minding their own business and avoiding interactions unless absolutely necessary. They neither accommodate others nor seek connection.
Until recently, I was firmly in the square category.
My original university plan was straightforward and transactional: focus on developing my skillset, secure a job, and nothing more. Joining a student club? Inconceivable. I believed such activities offered minimal career value, if any. My assumptions led me to systematically ignore social opportunities, which is why I knew only one person—Jawad—among the ten who joined the Chicago Service Trip.
But why does this distinction matter?
When you remain a square, you've reached your maximum potential—there's no room for expansion. Middle pieces and even edge pieces can grow exponentially by creating space within themselves to accept others and stretching to accommodate different perspectives and connections.
My personal lesson has been about transformation: gradually morphing from a square to a puzzle piece. This won't happen overnight. I might start as an edge piece, tentatively connecting with others. But for me, as for many, there's potential to eventually become a more integrated piece of the social landscape.
I'm not suggesting everyone must become a middle piece like Jawad. We each have the right to choose our level of social engagement. You don't have to—and I don't have to—become something we're not.
However, the advantages of being a puzzle piece are undeniable.
This isn't about submission or surrendering leadership. It's about openness, about respecting the diverse pieces around you. It's understanding that connection doesn't diminish your individuality—it enhances it.
So take a moment. Reflect. Which piece are you? More importantly, which piece do you aspire to be?
I will see you next week.
Warmly,
Suraj
