Jackpot

Watercoolers across America are buzzing with activity today.

“I’d buy houses around the world: Rome, Paris, Sydney, London.”

“I’d buy a Ferari. Wait, wait…no, I’d buy five Feraris for each of my five houses. And a private jet to take me to them.”

“I’d donate it all to charity. Well, almost all of it.”

“I’d buy two McDonald’s cheeseburgers for every person in the United States.”

“Hookers and cocaine.” (No, really)

In case you haven’t heard, the Powerball Jackpot has reached the highest amount ever, $1.5 Billion. Should the winner choose to take the lump sum, they’ll cash out at $561.7 Million ($930 Million less a fat tax hit). In case you didn’t catch it, that’s FIVE HUNDRED SIXTY MILLION DOLLARS. Whoa.

Did I buy Powerball tickets? Yes, three. Do I think I’m going to win? Yes, duh. Do I know that buying lottery tickets is a waste of money? I mean…

Here’s the thing: the $6 I spent on Powerball tickets has provided me hours of entertainment. In addition to daydreaming about what I’d do with the money, I’ve laughed and schemed with friends and co-workers about plans for their winnings. I had no idea my colleague wants to help underserved populations in South America, or that the guy at the gas station would like to adopt children from all over the world. Those six bucks gave me permission to ask big questions, and that’s pretty cool.

The odds of winning the jackpot tonight are 1 in 292 million. The odds of completing a thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail are 1 in 4. Hiking the AT was a hell of a lot harder than buying a lottery ticket, so I’d say I have a pretty decent shot. But, when I wake up tomorrow and find that my numbers weren’t pulled I won’t be sad. Mostly because I’ve experienced something better.

I know what it feels like to fall asleep to a chorus of Loons calling across a lake in Maine. I’ve watched the sun fall and rise from the top of a mountain in Vermont. I’ve felt rain sting my face as I walked across an open bald in Tennessee. I’ve shared my life story with strangers, and felt comfortable asking them about their own. Money can’t buy those things. All it can do is put shoes on my feet and Pop Tarts in my mouth; the rest is up to me. Up to you. Up to all of us.

Buying a Powerball ticket gives us permission to dream. For five days we can think about everything we’d do, all the good things we could provide, all the people we’d serve. That little piece of paper helps us initiate conversations with strangers and puts us on a level playing field. For one night, we’re all in it together.

Thru-hiking did the same thing for me, but for a much longer period of time. Yes, it cost slightly more than $6, and yes, it took more time, and yes, I knew the odds were stacked against me. But money and minutes are fleeting, and odds are meant to be crushed.

So, go out and buy a Powerball ticket if you want to. Have fun with it. And then tomorrow morning, when you wake up to find you aren’t a millionaire, put a pen to paper and write down your hopes and dreams. I’m guessing you’ll find that you don’t need $560 Million to achieve them. In fact, I bet they’re well within your reach.

Jackpot.