Is it Futile?
We wash our car. And then it gets dirty. Usually the same day.
We mow the lawn. And then we mow it again in a week.
We do the dishes. And then—you know how it works—we do them again the next meal.
Washing cars, mowing lawns, and doing dishes are exercises in futility.
I’ve named three domestic responsibilities. We all have the equivalent in tasks we do at work.
If we’re looking for permanence, these tasks are futile. They don’t “last”. If we’re in search of exhilaration, they’re futile. Nothing says "boring" like rubbing suds on a 1998 Toyota Tacoma.
There seems only two solutions: outsource them or ignore them. The former costs; the latter creates other problems that end up being a bigger hassle in the end.
There is a third solution, however.
Washing a car is the epitome of impermanent and mundane. Unless you’re Larry Kosilla.
Mowing the lawn is impermanent and mundane. But it can look like this.
Dish washing is impermanent and mundane. And Bill Gates loves it.
Futility is not a measurement of permanence; it’s a measurement of purpose. It's a measurement of intent, passion, creativity, growth, learning.
The hard question is never, "How do I get out of this task?", but rather, "How do I lean into this task and transform it into something beautiful or meaningful or profitable or edifying?"