Lasagna and Life

After a ten-hour work day, I came home and made lasagna.

Now, culinarily, this is no great feat. I took every shortcut in the book, from cook in the pan noodles to jarred sauce to already shredded mozzarella. But at a time not much later than our normal dinner hour, we sat down to a meal of homemade lasagna, lasagna that had not even been a thought earlier in the day.

Why, you may ask, is lasagna blogworthy? (It's okay, I ask myself too!). As I thought about the lasagna, I realized that ultimately, it was the result of my saying "yes" when asked, and saying "yes," and then making "yes" work is pretty much what most of my career, and perhaps my life, has been.

As I left work, I called home for input about dinner, and one of my kids proposed lasagna. I don't imagine she had any idea what kind of work would go into lasagna, but I have a feeling she was surprised when I said "yes," and proceeded to have her read me the recipe. It took a trip to the grocery store. It took two sous-chefs. It took a bunch of bowls and pans, and it took some waiting. At each of these points, "yes" turning into "no" or "I don't know" would have destroyed our chance for lasagna--not so different from how saying "I don't know" to news would have destroyed my chance for this last year of work, or saying "I'm not sure" to work I'd never done before could have eliminated any number of opportunities I have had over the years.

Sometimes, in lasagna and in life, you just have to say "yes," and then make sure "yes" works. And often, in lasagna and in life, "yes" takes you to some of the most challenging and satisfying places you've ever been.