#116: Rubik's Cube Reflection

As my friends and family know all too well, I’ve been trying to solve a LEGO Rubik’s cube without instructions ever since returning from South Korea last October. I thought that solving the cube was the key to understanding the universe, because I learned in South Korea that the universe is the matrix. Story for another day, or maybe never. Anyway, I thought that if I figured out how to solve the cube without instructions, I’d have all the answers.

After a month of seemingly limited progress on the 3x3, including 10 hours straight on the flight home, I switched it out for a 2x2. I decided that it’s easier to start with fewer patterns and then apply the patterns to the original cube with some degree of certainty that I’m on the right track.

Between November and August, I wracked my brain for solutions to the 2x2 and occasionally attempted the 3x3. I convinced myself that the 3x3 was getting easier, but it’s more likely that I was just grateful for a break from the 2x2. Or maybe I really was getting better, who knows. Quite the headache. In January, I brought the 3x3 on the tour bus in Chile, in hopes of magically making progress as my family and I traveled through the countryside. In April, I was heads down solving as we toured the Uffizi art museum in Florence and continued incessantly turning the squeaky cubes of the 2x2 then at the Galleria dell’Accademmia, standing in front of the David, thinking that I was just one rotation away from my life’s greatest accomplishment. Pompeii was the same, but I took a break in Positano. In July, I walked through the Vancouver airport, clutching the 2x2 the same way I carried Bow, my childhood stuffed animal that, trying one combination after another in line at TSA, waiting for my luggage, and on the ferry to Bear Mountain. Fast forward another month or two, and the Rubik’s cube came on a first date. Kudos to the man who solved it sitting on the park bench in the forest, while keeping up a conversation. I refused to watch because I wanted to figure it out myself, although I must admit that I was impressed.

Finally, one random evening in August, sitting on my moon pod in Boston, the 2x2 suddenly snaps into place. Knowing me, I have writing on it somewhere, but I couldn’t believe that I actually solved the thing without instructions. However, according to the ‘novel’ outline I wrote in April, the 2x2 doesn’t lead me to the ‘happy ending,’ but rather high-quality sleep and of course, solving the 3x3. So, I ate some broccoli, went to the gym, and picked up the 3x3 the next day. The headache continued, with the pressure building on me to complete my first business case. As soon as I did, the patterns of the 3x3 started to emerge, despite that I barely slept that week.

Fast forward to last week. I decided that I was tired of waiting for passion, or direction, at least, to magically reappear. Between the New Years Eve vision, seeing through to the matrix in South Korea, or how I structured the outline, I truly believed that solving the Rubik’s cube without instructions would open the door for Unicorns and Rainbows.

When the magic was nowhere to be found over a year later, even though I still hadn’t solved the cube, the realist in me accepted that creating an outline doesn’t necessarily dictate that’s how life happens. The ‘realist’ in me needed to release the thread tying me to the outlined ending in order to make space for something new. The part of me that believes in fairy tales refused to accept that things wouldn’t happen exactly the way I want them to. No matter which part of me is correct, I reasoned that the best way to let go of the “what ifs” was to solve the cube and check it off the roadmap. It's rare that the realist and the optimist agree. I paused everything else (except for the gym) to focus on the 3x3 without distractions.

At first, I was impressed with myself that the first few algorithms matched my passionately scribbled drawings. That helped me solve the first few algorithms. By the time I got to the 2^nd layer, I wanted to break my brain. By the time I got to the 3^rd layer, my glasses were foggy from my tears. The ‘realist’ in me kept telling me that I’d never solve it. But I’m not one to pass up an opportunity for a fairy tale, even if the chances were 1%. The fastest way out is through.

At 8:15pm on Monday, the cube snaps into place. Just when I least expected it. That was it? Thank God it’s over. I scarfed down some salmon, cried out of sheer exhaustion, and went to the gym for a surprisingly focused lift. Nothing special happened that evening, nor has it happened since. I genuinely didn’t expect anything magical to happen. Not by the time I looked at the instructions. I just hoped I could be proud of myself and find some relief from stuck-ness. I can’t be mad that the ending didn’t happen either. It's the equivalent of Schoedinger’s cat: we’ll never know if anything would’ve happened, because I stopped myself short of solving it without instructions. Even with help, it still took approximately one year, one month and 72 hours. I’m not sure I would’ve figured it out on my own.

I’ve been upset with myself all this time that I ‘gave up’ by looking at the instructions, because I thought that solving the cube without instructions was the key to all my hopes and dreams. After several days of contemplation, frustration, and everything in between, it’s occurring to me that neither my vision nor the outline specify how I solve the cube. The vision doesn’t specify that I solve the cube at all. I put so much pressure on the outcome that I rushed the process. I was angry with myself that I hadn’t solved it, when I likely would’ve reached the solution faster by appreciating the complexity of the challenge at hand. I took it for granted that I’d able to solve the 3x3 without instructions. I was impatient. I was angry and frustrated when I hadn’t solved it, even though it the inventor of the Rubik’s cube Ermo Rubik one month to solve it. Google has no record of anyone else who solved any cube without instructions. Why would I take it for granted that I could do what so few people have done before?

As a child and then again as a young adult, I distinctly remember seeing Rubik’s cubes and thinking that solving one would be a colossal waste of time. I’m not sure if I genuinely thought it was a waste of time, or if I said that because I didn’t believe that I could… Never in a million trillion zillion years did I think that I’d solve any cube, let alone a 2x2 without instructions. Yet here we are, years later, and the cube became a defining part of my identity. It became my logo. I owe it to myself to write this reflection to capture the lessons learned. My way of commemorating the achievement.

Here's what I learned: Progress isn’t linear. Sometimes, if not the majority of the time, you have to take one step back and two steps forward, no matter how tedious it is. A pattern that seems completely random isn't random; You just haven’t recognized the pattern yet. Each move you make has consequences. You’re better off moving quickly and making a mistake so that you can learn from it, but don’t rush. Rushing leads to mistakes that are otherwise preventable, and the only thing you learn is not to rush. It’s not over until it’s over. Most things take 4x as long as you think they will, and 6x if you rush. The results will come when you least expect it. Being stubborn doesn’t solve anything. Accept help if it’s available. You will have to learn, un-learn, and re-learn patterns. Orient yourself first, or you’ll start running in the wrong direction and must re-do everything you just did in the opposite direction. If you do accept help, make sure you understand it. You’ll save yourself time, frustration, and embarrassment later. Solving problems while you’re distracted can be counter-productive to solve the problem at hand, but it’s a great way to force you down the path to solve the other problems you’re avoiding. You can only make one move at a time. Sometimes it’s easier to keep going than it is to give up, no matter how much you want to give up. The last 20% is more difficult than the first 80%, but at least you’re already 80% of the way there. No one is coming to save you, but with the right mindset, you’re perfectly capable of saving yourself.