A Sudoku Soliloquy (Sort Of…)

On Christmas Day 2024, I received a new book of Sudoku puzzles in my stocking. I had specifically asked for them because it had been ages since I’d done one and a friend from work had reminded me that they existed. Not that I had forgotten of their existence, per se, but as a young adult living in the technology age, I’m often so engrossed in electronic forms of entertainment that I just don’t think about the simple joy of solving a puzzle on a piece of paper. I’ve been looking for ways to simplify and de-digitize my life, and I thought it could be fun to try Sudoku again.

Now, as a person who loves words, you’d think I’d prefer word games like crossword puzzles over number games. But no. See, when I was a kid and my family went on long trips—mostly without electronic devices or internet because I grew up mainly in the 2000’s—we all had to have some way of entertaining ourselves. I was introduced to Sudoku puzzles, and I loved the simple entertainment of filling in empty spaces in a number grid with other numbers using logic. To this day, I would rather do a Sudoku puzzle than a crossword puzzle. I’m not sure why. Maybe I’ll try a crossword puzzle again sometime and find it equally enjoyable. I’ll report back if I do.

Throughout my life, I’ve often heard the joke that people who love words and language are bad at or don’t enjoy numbers and math. I’ve never found that joke funny because that’s never been true for me. But again, that’s partly to do with my upbringing. My dad was a nuclear engineer who loves numbers and talks about how fun spreadsheets and calculus are (interestingly, I was also pretty good at calculus in grade school). My mom, though she was a homemaker, was a journalist before having kids, and she also had author and librarian aspirations throughout her life. As a result, I got a pretty even mix of exposure to both numbers and words and found that I liked them both to an extent. Although I will admit my dad’s attempts to explain nuclear engineering to me—at my request—have always made my eyes glaze over. Sorry, Dad. I tried.

And yet, here I am, a creative writer, enjoying a numbers game.

Logic and Creativity Go Together

One thing I find fascinating about logic and creativity is they tend to inform and build on one another. Neuroscientists have theorized that the left side of the brain is responsible for rational thinking, while the right side of the brain is responsible for creative thinking. This could explain why, when I’m doing something logical or technical, my brain has a chance to process information creatively in my subconscious, and I can come up with new ideas during that background creative thinking. Similarly, when I’m doing something creative, my brain can make logical connections and rational decisions in the background.

It’s even more fun when logic and creativity combine to make something—and they often do. If you’ve read a fantasy book and the magic system the author created for the story makes sense, guess what: that’s a form of creativity mixed with logic. Or if you’re baking something, like a cake or a loaf of bread, you’re taking the individual ingredients, putting them through a scientifically proven series of molecular and heat changes determined by the very nature of our planet, and ending up with a delicious and beautiful creation.

I’m a creative person who also loves logic and rationality, and I’ve always felt a bit odd about that fact. It has always seemed to me that most people lean one way or another, though it of course fully depends on your definition of logic and creativity.

While I do lean “more creative”, at least in terms of making art or telling stories, I think it would be a mistake to hang the rational side of my mind out to dry. It’s the same reason why I’m a Christian who has a hefty appreciation for modern science. Many think faith and science/reason can’t mix, but I don’t believe that. I believe science is the result of humans discovering highly advanced patterns of order and logic that God Himself created, and the practical application of those patterns can be used to improve our lives and honor Him—though of course we as a species do tend to go too far (cue Dr. Malcolm’s famous Jurassic Park quote).

We don’t and can’t understand everything right now (hello, “light is a particle and a wave at the same time” theory), but we don’t have to, and that’s okay. There still needs to be some wonder in our world.

This Is Who We Are. This Is Who I Am.

These examples are all testaments to the way God created humanity. We are beings of intense creativity and reason simultaneously. We are learners and explorers who seek to make something meaningful out of our surroundings, and there are distinct methods by which we do that. When we don’t have opportunities to think deeply and create, we stagnate.

Our logic is often flawed or incomplete if mixed inappropriately with creativity, such as when we make assumptions without evidence, cast aspersions without care, or speculate without solid facts to lean on—all things that would drive Sherlock Holmes crazy.

Likewise, our creativity is often nonsensical if not mixed in some way with rationality, order, and logical or semi-logical connections. There’s always a point to art, even if the point is highly subjective, ridiculous, sarcastic, and/or overly meta (i.e. Marcel Duchamp’s toilet and Maurizio Cattelan’s banana taped to a wall). There’s always a structure on which something creative is built, or else the thing will fall apart, and the structure must exist first before it can be changed or broken (like grammar rules). The only exception to this is God in Genesis 1, because, well, He’s the only one who can actually create something from nothing.

I thank God for what the human brain can do. I like to think that He nerds out with us when we appreciate something in a way that He meant us to and use the full abilities of our brains to honor Him (like John Piper’s Christian Hedonism idea). I like to think He’s pleased and maybe a bit amused that I just turned a simple numbers game into a philosophical metaphor.

The balanced and practiced combination of logic and creativity can lead to beautiful things.

Like these Sudoku puzzles I recently completed.