There was a great column in The Wall Street Journal a week ago about the division of household labor between spouses. Sue Shellenbarger, who writes a column about Work & Family, offered several ways to equitabily divide chores.
One way was to give the person who earns more fewer household responsibilities. Another was to switch chores weekly. Yet another suggested specialization of labor or a feudal approach where each could rule a particular area (the kitchen or the yard, for example.) Our household runs on a specialty basis, which while not always equitable, works most of the time — but it's not always fair.
Yardwork, for example, is a solitary pursuit. You're outside in the fresh air. The mechanical drone of the lawnmower or weedwacker leaves you alone with your thoughts or selections from your iPod. Because of the sheer danger of the tools involved, the children are far away. And there's the added benefit of tanning time due to the sunshine.
So I view yardwork as a preferred activity. Certainly more fun and fulfilling than say, cleaning the oven or spot treating the carpet.
But I'm not great at mowing the lawn. I have a hard time walking a straight line and often find I've missed patches or left a line of unshorn grass.
So I'm relegated to inside tasks. Not so bad when the heat reaches the mid 90s, but not so great when the weather's more hospitable and beckoning.
Part of achieving success at no matter what you're pursuing is realizing what you're good at may be different than what you want to do. I want to mow the lawn, but I'm much better at organizing the kids' room.
I had a talk this week with a fellow Quixtar employee who has been trying to move into a new role. She's been taking on additional work to prove she has what it takes to be successful in that new role. But while she has the enthusiasm and the energy and has invested her time in some training to acquire new skills, things just aren't clicking. She's thinking about throwing in the towel, and I was inclined to agree — sometimes we're heading in a path we're not meant to follow.
I'm one of the few among my college friends who started and left college with the same major. That's because we all may think we want to pursue something and find the reality might be harder, more time consuming, or just not the right fit. It's better to learn that your freshman or sophomore year than on your graduation day, but some people don't realize this until later in life.
I have a cousin who graduated from law school, got a job with a leading Chicago law firm and realized five years later that although he had a cool condo with a Lake Michigan view, a lawyer wife, and two Mercedes parked in the lot, his life felt empty. He ditched it all, got a high school teaching certificate and now teaches at a Miami high school filled with kids who come from poor backgrounds – his wallet is emptier but his soul is full.
When you talk to IBOs you hear similar stories — people who pursued careers that didn't turn out to be what they expected. So they started to move on through a business of their own powered by Quixtar.
Does everyone find that their Quixtar-powered business offers the perfect path? Nothing works for everyone. But the combination of the plan, products, and infrastructure has provided many with what they need to change their lives — a little or a lot by helping them achieve goals big or small.
There are some great online assessment tools to help you find a different path than what you're on, and one of my all-time favorites (and perennial graduation gift) is "What color is your parachute?" If the path doesn't feel right or isn't getting you where you're going, seek another.