Schrödinger's lasagna

For some reason my brain told me to make veggie lasagna on Sunday. I don't know where the idea came from. I don't care about cooking. I don't care about lasagna. But I made it. Because once an idea infiltrates my brain, it becomes inevitable. Resistance is futile. I'm not sure if the lasagna turned out alright. I didn't taste it. I thought maybe it looked a little off but I'm no lasagna connoisseur so what do I know. I didn't care if it was a great success (which considering my complete lack of kitchen skills would have been a miracle) or if it was a total failure. And I realized maybe that was the whole point. Sometimes I am too sensitive, I care about everything too much. But lasagna, that's something about which I can be totally indifferent, about which I can have absolutely no expectations. Maybe it was my brain's way of giving me a break, a brief respite from caring. Or a lesson once again in doing things for the sake of doing them, with no attachment to the outcome.

The lasagna is currently sitting in my fridge. I have no interest in eating it. It's probably terrible anyway. But I kind of like not knowing. Right now it's like Schrödinger's lasagna, simultaneously awesomely edible and epically inedible. I won't know which one it is until I take off the foil and taste test it. It's a physical reminder to embrace the uncertainty. These are the facts of my life: I am currently alive. One day I will no longer be so. The only one who is guaranteed to be with me every step of the way between those two points in time is me. Beyond those three certainties, everything else is up in the air. Might as well get used to it.

I thought about throwing the lasagna away, uneaten. Like a Mandala painting, only made of carbs instead of sand. But Mandalas are supposed to teach you about impermanence, and I already know that all too well. It's permanence that I have to learn. Perhaps the next thing I should try to make is an Everlasting Gobstopper?

Lyric of the moment: "Wherever you are, know that I adore you. No matter how far, I can go before you. And if ever you need someone. Well, not that you need helping. But if ever you want someone, I know that I am willing. Wherever you go, I can always follow. I can feed this real slow if it's a lot to swallow. And if you just want to be alone, I can wait without waiting. If you want me to let this go, well, I am more than willing..."