Leave It Better Than You Found It
Lasagna gets a bad rep.
People talk about it like it’s some mythical culinary achievement that requires an entire Saturday, three trips to the grocery store, and the patience of a saint. Sure, if you’re making the sauce from scratch and letting it simmer for hours, that’s one thing. And yes… washing the dishes afterward isn’t exactly the glamorous part….I sigh heavily just thinking about that part. But honestly? I think we’ve built lasagna up in our minds to be far more complicated than it really is. In fact, here’s a little secret from someone who’s made more lasagnas than she can count…You don’t have to boil the noodles. No, Really. And don’t even have to buy the “oven-ready” ones. Trust me on this one. Just add a little extra water to your sauce, layer everything together, and let the oven do the work. Bam!
See? Engineer brain. I can’t help myself. Every time I figure out a way to make something a little simpler, a little less intimidating, I want to share it. No gatekeeping here. Maybe that’s because I’ve realized over the years that people don’t usually need life to become perfect. They just need someone to make the next step feel possible. And maybe that’s why this whole movement has always made so much sense to me. Because, honestly, I think I’ve spent most of my life trying to leave things better than I found them.
Not perfect. Just… better. You know, that’s probably the engineer in me.
I naturally look for systems that could work a little more smoothly, problems that can be solved or revamped, and unnecessary obstacles that can be removed. Then let’s do that process again. And again. And again.
As Lasagna Love grew beyond kitchen tables in San Diego, I realized something. Growing the organization was important. However, protecting the compassion was even more important. That combination can confuse people. More than I ever thought, I’ve found myself in conversations where someone keeps searching for the catch.
“Wait… someone wants to bring me a free homemade lasagna?” “Why?” “What do you want from me?”
I understand the question. I understand where it comes from. And I understand why it can be hard to believe Lasagna Love exists…until you’ve received your lasagna.
We’ve become so accustomed to looking for the fine print that unconditional kindness can feel almost suspicious. People wait for the sales pitch. The membership fee, obligation,or when someone asks for something in return. But there isn’t one. The answer is full heartedly simple and ordinary. Nothing.
I simply hope tomorrow feels a little lighter than today. That’s it. Well…if there were a catch – it would be this… I get something out of this too. I mean, I do. I would not be honest with you if I didn’t say out loud that what I get is I get as a volunteer lasagna chef to believe in people all over again.
Years ago, before Lasagna Love existed, I probably would have told you a meal was about feeding people. Now? Meals feed far more than hunger. Sometimes they feed hope. Sometimes they restore dignity. Sometimes they simply remind someone that they haven’t disappeared. And many times…they remind the person doing the cooking of exactly the same thing. Community has always mattered deeply to me. Maybe because I know what it feels like when it isn’t there. I won’t tell you every chapter of that story today. We’ll get there when the time is right. But I will tell you this: I know what loneliness feels like. I know what it feels like to wonder if anyone sees you. I know what it feels like to carry something heavy and quietly hope someone notices before you have to ask.
So instead of staying angry at those experiences…I decided to build the thing I wished had existed. And not just an organization. A place where asking for help doesn’t come with shame. Where giving doesn’t come with strings attached. Where belonging doesn’t have to be earned. Where kindness can remain anonymous if that’s what someone needs most. Maybe that’s my way of leaving things better than I found them.
I don’t know if we’ll ever solve loneliness. I don’t know if we’ll ever eliminate hardship. I don’t even know if every lasagna changes a life. But I do know this – If enough of us keep showing up for one another…If enough of us keep leaving things just a little better than we found them…Then maybe tomorrow feels a little lighter than today.
And honestly? I think that’s worth every pan to wash.
Until next time,
