They stood looking through the large one-way window into the room.
The man and woman stood in silence for several minutes, while inside, an elderly patient was bent over a small table. He was squinting at a large number of multi-coloured pieces, picking each one up slowly, and then placing it back down with great care. His movements gave any random observer the sense that they were watching activities being carried out in slow motion. Alongside of this scattering of pieces he had a pair of scissors and several varying scraps of sandpaper, all laid out for his use.
The man in the white jacket was saying, “He’s been with us for a couple of months now. It’s heartening to see him making such steady progress.”
The newly appointed carer asked, “What’s he doing?”
The doctor said, “A jig-saw puzzle.”
She frowned. “No. I mean, with the scissors.”
“Reshaping.”
“What?”
Smiling, he nodded at the man, saying, “That’s what he calls it; reshaping. He’s cutting the pieces so they fit.”
“And you let him?”
“Oh! Definitely. We all do that.” The man grinned. “In life, I mean. We all tailor our perceptions to marry up with the world we want.” He looked back at the old man and smiled contentedly. “It’s rather an advanced way of looking at things, don’t you think?”
She shrugged. “Not really. I would see it quite simply as a denial of reality.” With that, she immediately felt that she had spoken out of turn. “Sorry, perhaps I shouldn’t…”
“Not at all,” he interrupted, shaking his head.
Relieved at this, she went back to gazing through the window. She watched as the man took up a sliver of sandpaper and smoothed off the newly cut edges.
“Ah! Reality, yes,” he went on, “your reality, no doubt. But for the people we look after here, they need to find their own. In most cases, they’re quite desperate for it.”
He went quiet for a while. She waited.
“There are so many you see. So many realities.” He nodded at her. “There’s yours, there’s mine, and of course…” he turned back to the window, “there’s his. Philosophers throughout the ages have argued back and forth about what reality is. We’re not trying to define that, of course. We are simply assisting our patients to find theirs.” He then added, “We use this rehabilitation technique quite commonly here, with most of our inmates.”
The woman sighed deeply and said, “I suppose this sort of treatment requires a great deal of patience.”
He shook his head. “Not really, but we do have other issues.”
“Other issues?”
“Yes. We really must get into town and pay another visit to the second hand book shop.”
Confused, she asked, “You do?”
“Yes, we are running out of puzzles.”
