Taco trays and the problem with solving life's tiny problems

It was only Tuesday and I wasn't prepared for my mind to be blown.

I'd just stepped into the house and was greeted by the invigorating aroma and undeniable crackle of sizzling ground beef. What else stirs the soul like seasoned meat, I thought. Probably a lot of things, but in this moment my senses couldn't get past the fact that it was a special time on a special day.

Taco Tuesday.

This is one of life's simple pleasures, a weekly meal devoted to the undisputed champion trio of beef, cheese, and tortilla chips. It's a dinner as dependable as they come. You can count on the whole family eating it. If the kids favor it plain without tomatoes, lettuce, onions, peppers, sour cream, fresh salsa, jalapeños, guacamole, Cholula hot sauce, and anything Mexican I have, then so be it, that's more for me.

On Taco Tuesday, we all eat and smile and my wife and I are complimented on how good the meal is. Literally the cheese and chips did all the work, but we're happy to take the credit, given all the labor-intensive, delicious delectables we've made that they didn't like.

This Taco Tuesday was extra special

But on this particular Taco Tuesday, I was in for a surprise. I sensed something was in motion as we formed our taco line and my wife's smile widened, before she'd even had one taco in her. She opened the cabinet and withdrew four wavy pieces of plastic, each a different color, and placed them on the counter next to the freshly baked taco shells.

"Taco trays!" she proudly announced. We each took a moment to process this unexpected addition to Taco Tuesday. And like a young man observing a double rainbow, I wondered "what does it mean?"

Who knew we needed taco trays?

My gut reaction was I'd been introduced to a mini-crisis. All my life, I'd put up with the messy disaster of trying to eat a taco. We all know a neat dinner is doomed from the start, for as soon as a taco is built, it literally goes sideways and the thing falls apart. All the effort of stuffing 17 ingredients into a thin, fragile tortilla pouch is lost as soon as it's laid on the plate.

Taco building is an existential exercise we've been willing to endure, if only to bring a hint of decorum to what will become chaotic feasting. Inevitably we're destined to wolf that goodness down anyway, anyhow, face-in-plate if no one was looking.

So, I'd accepted my fate of taco-building frustration. I was content to go the rest of my life not even looking for a better way. Now, apparently, there was a better way. I felt the angst of all the time I'd wasted, all the frustrating episodes of witnessing my work of taco art falling apart. Finally, finally an answer!

Do we need taco trays?

Immediately skepticism entered my wonderment. If I'd put up with tacostrophes for so long, why did I need to fix it now? Was it necessary to own special trays for this one simple dish? Perhaps as much as we eat tacos, yes. But I couldn't help but ponder the dollars spent, for I was willing to have messy fingers and toppings askew for a thousand more taco nights.

Finally, I accepted it. Now that we'd solved the taco-toppling conundrum, my life had incrementally improved. Or, had it?

Taco trays aren't the problem, but they may point to one

Before I dig deeper here and stuff a few more peppers into this post, I'll admit there's much grace in having taco trays. They're fun, cheap, and quasi-practical. I'll enjoy them with the family for all the Taco Tuesdays to come.

But the taco tray is like many solutions in our society, emblematic of a pernicious problem in a convenience culture. We focus a great deal of energy on solving tiny problems. Now, no one in my family took too much time on this one. We saw a need, looked for a solution, clicked twice on Amazon, and in mere moments were eating like taco royalty. No harm, no foul.

The ease, however, of solving a tiny problem, entices us to look at any tiny problem and wonder if there's a better way. We often find there are better ways, for a little more money and a little more time. So we solve those problems and find more. Then a little more money, a little more time, and so on.

At some point, we find our life is full of taco trays, every scenario optimized for maximum convenience and minimum frustration. Is it possible there's a hidden cost?

The problem with solving tiny problems

I'll submit the cost of solving life's tiny problems is time. Most of us would agree time is our most precious resource, greater than money and things. Without time, money and things have no use. In a way, we may think we're maximizing our time by making an effort to optimize convenience. But potentially, we're losing time to focus on more important things.

What do you love doing? What makes you come alive? What problems are you solving for yourself or for others that are making a meaningful difference? I’m posing these questions to myself, because as I evaluate my time and observe my to-dos, there can be a lot of tiny problem solvers versus things that matter most to me and others.

Caring for the small while neglecting the big

A couple-thousand years ago, in the great Jerusalem temple, Jesus was arguing with some prominent religious leaders about tiny versus big problems. These leaders, the Pharisees, made every effort to obey the religious law, down to details like sorting out a tenth of their spices as an offering. What they were failing to do was to care for people through justice and mercy. Jesus told them it was fine to tithe their mint and cumin, but to not neglect the weightier, more important things of life.

Now, I'm not saying Jesus would knock a taco tray. I think he'd dive right into the happy Taco Tuesday gathering and maybe even don a sombrero. What's worth consideration is ensuring we don't spend a large portion of our time on small matters.

As life goes on, I’m sure other tiny solutions like taco trays will come along and I’ll accept them as life’s little graces. But perhaps other tiny problems I’ll accept as tiny problems, and focus my mind’s energy on the things that matter most.

Maybe, just maybe on something other than Taco Tuesday. 😉