How to Win the Lottery Called Life

Today, I want to share how you can win this lottery called life.

I’ve been reading and writing about the notion that you can make your own luck for over five years now. And for the past year or so, I’ve been praising the power of collaboration.

I say, for instance, that my work nowadays (such as it is) seems to be meeting and chatting with like-minded folks from all walks of life. They email me to say, “Want to have lunch?” and I say, “Of course!” We talk about podcasts or libraries or bicycling or comic books. Whatever strikes our fancy. And when we’ve finished our tea or our Thai noodles, nothing major seems to have happened.

What’s happened, however, is that we’ve both just received lottery tickets. By meeting and chatting and sharing ideas, we’ve been granted a ticket in the lottery of life.

And there are other ways to get lottery tickets too. Any time I try something new, I get a lottery ticket. Since I make it a point to try new things all of the time, I get a lot of lottery tickets.

When I learn to drink coffee, I get a lottery ticket.
When I learn to drink beer, I get a lottery ticket.
When I learn to shoot a gun, I get a lottery ticket.
When I learn to ride a motorcycle, I get a lottery ticket.
When I learn to speak Spanish, I get a lottery ticket.

I’ve found another way to get these lottery tickets, too: I say “yes” things that seem scary or difficult. For instance, when I agree to speak on stage in front of one thousand people, I get a lottery ticket. When I fly to Ecuador to help people learn about financial and personal independence, I get a lottery ticket. When I spend six weeks locked in my office writing an e-book about money, I get a lottery ticket.

In short, any time I do something — especially something new — I get a lottery ticket.

But what do I win? Great question. Turns out, the prizes are pretty fucking awesome.

When I learned to speak Spanish, for example, I hit the jackpot. I made new friends (my tutor, my English student), traveled new places (Perú, Bolivia, Argentina, Chile, Ecuador), read new authors (Neruda, García Marquez), tried new food, watched new movies, and more.

Today in Quito, I walked about ten miles across the city — up and down, up and down, up and down since Quito is nowhere near flat — spending part of my time on the teleférico, which is the cable-car that transports visitors up the mountainside from 9000-foot elevation to 13000-foot elevation.

During the steep fifteen-minute ride to the top of Pichincha Vulcano, I sat with two couples. They spoke only Spanish. If I didn’t know Spanish, I couldn’t have understood them, much less conversed. (Hell, I wouldn’t even be here in Ecuador if I couldn’t speak Spanish.) But I do speak Spanish, so I enjoyed a pleasant chat about one couple’s life in Venezuela and the other couple’s life here in Quito. Yet another small prize to add to the mountain of booty that I’ve obtained just because I spent some time learning another language.

Kim is awesome at playing this lottery. That gal gets tickets all the time. Because she’s a friendly and fun dental hygienist, her patients are constantly giving her things. In the eighteen months I’ve known her, she’s been given eggs, tickets to the country fair, tickets to a historical museum, tips on travel, and much much more. Remember how I recently sold my comics for a ton of money? (Wait, you can’t remember that because that article won’t go up at Get Rich Slowly until this Thursday!) Well, several thousand dollars of that came because we used one of Kim’s lottery tickets; one of her patients introduced us to a couple of folks who were interested in buying them.

To me, the best part is that one good thing often leads to another. Luck begets luck. When I win once, I get another winning ticket. I’ve reached the point where my entire life seems to be a series of fortunate events.

Note: Often just doing the thing that earned me the ticket is a sort of prize. Meeting certain people can be so delightful that even if nothing else came of it, the meeting itself was a tiny jackpot. Learning to drink coffee provided a small reward, not to mention the ongoing payouts involved in the fun morning ritual I get to share with Kim.

You know what doesn’t give you lottery tickets? Watching TV, for one. Also, playing videogames. Sorry, but there’s no payout for playing another round of Angry Birds. You don’t get lottery tickets for being a picky eater, being afraid to take calculated risks, and refusing to do the things that scare you.

Not every meeting and not every experience pays off. But many do provide a reward, and some of those rewards are enormous. Winning lottery tickets are so common and so fruitful, in fact, that I’ve almost become addicted to playing this lottery called life. I relish making new acquaintances, going new places, and trying new things.

So, get off your butt and go do something new today. Talk to a stranger. Try a new cuisine. There are still lots of prizes left in this lottery, but you have to be in it to win it.

Ecuador 2013: A Chautauqua on Wealth and Happiness

You know how sometimes peak life experiences kind of creep on you when you’re least expecting them? Well, that just happened to me.

For the past week, I’ve been part of the first chautauqua produced by Cheryl Reed of Above the Clouds Retreats. I joined fellow financial bloggers Mr. Money Mustache (a.k.a. Pete) and jlcollinsnh (a.k.a. Jim) to present our philosophies to an enthusiastic group of 22 participants, most of whom were women and most of whom had reached (or were well on their way to) Financial Independence.

Including Cheryl’s husband, Rich, we had 27 in our group. You know how there’s usually one or two bad eggs in any group that size? Well, that didn’t happen to us. In fact, this is probably the best small group I’ve ever had the privilege to be a part of. The participants were universally intelligent and friendly and supportive and fun. “I haven’t laughed so much in years,” one woman said at the end of the week. I haven’t either.

Note: I’ve uploaded the PowerPoint slides for my presentation. I’ll post a written version soon (maybe on Pete’s blog, if he’ll take it). Plus, I plan to share a summary of the various financial advice from the chautauqua at Get Rich Slowly within the next couple of weeks. If you want more info right now, check out Mr. Money Mustache’s summary of the week.

Between me, Rich, and Mr. Money Mustache, we took thousands of photos during the ten days it took to produce and stage this retreat. I’ve culled these to 165 favorites. But since that’s far too many to ask you to view, I’m going to thin that even further. Here are 20 of the photos that I feel best capture our shared experience. (Click a photo to view a larger version.)

Morning at Cheryl’s farm: Cheryl, Pete, J.D., and Jim plan for the week [photo by Rich]

The “profits” from the week will help families like this in Santa Elena [photo by Rich]

Sunset in Santa Elena — Cheryl takes the dogs for a walk [photo by J.D.]

Pete and Amy O. look on raptly as J.D. shares some brilliant insight [photo by Rich]

Pete shares his Mustachian vision for happiness and lifestyle design [photo by J.D.]

Jim and Val prioritize their passions during Cheryl’s presentation [photo by Rich]

Colleen endures smoke and fire (and plenty of spit) during a shamanic cleansing [photo by J.D.]

During a day trip to Otavalo, street performers serenade the group [photo by Rich]

At a local orphanage, kids scramble for candy from a piñata [photo by Pete]

The group watches a folkloric dance group at Hacienda Cusin [photo by J.D.]

Another night of Story Time with Uncle Jesse — “That reminds me of the time…” [photo by J.D.]

Anita and Caitlin enjoy the company of the adorable (and annoying) cat [photo by J.D.]

Pete hosts the first of many enjoyable evenings at the hacienda [photo by ??]

Amy O. and J.D. bust a gut as Colleen slams a Mustachian Rosé [photo by Pete]

The entire group flashes the Mustachian Salute [photo by J.D.]

“La mitad del mundo!” — J.D. at the equator [photo by Amy F.]

Marla, Colleen, and Jason in Quito’s Plaza San Francisco at dusk [photo by J.D.]

J.D., Colleen, Amy O., Marla, and Val toast the end of a wonderful week [photo by Pete]

Shyam and Jesse watch as Carol is serenaded for her birthday [photo by J.D.]

Marla and Val posing with the handsome and dapper doorman [photo by J.D.]

One thousand thanks to Amy, Amy, Amy, and Tom; Menon and Shyam; Nathan and Caitlin; Cathy and John; Jason, Jesse, and Jen; Carol, Karl, and Colleen; Dave and Ann; Lise, Val, Anita, and the every-charming Marla. All y’all made this week amazing. I spent more time with some folks than others — Colleen and Amy O., for instance — but I enjoyed the conversations I had with everyone.

And, of course, thanks to my colleagues. Jim, Rich, Cheryl, and Pete — it was an honor to have been a part of this. Thank you for asking me to share the experience. Let’s do it again next year!

Now, however, I have a brief lull before starting the next leg of my expedition to Ecuador. I’ll spend two more nights at Hotel Ambassador in Quito’s “gringo-landia” — I’m listening to sappy Spanish love songs in the lobby right now — but on Monday, I’ll join a small group headed to the Galapagos Islands. It’s going to be great!

Then, exactly a week from right now, I’ll hop a shuttle the airport to head home. That too will be great. As much as I loved this chautauqua, I love Kim more. I’m eager to return to our home so that we can resume a routine together, and so that we can grow and learn together…

Photos of giant tortoises coming soon! (Plus, underwater snorkeling photos taken with my new waterproof camera.) Stay tuned, my friends.

Ursaphobia

While in Alaska last month, I confided in Kim that I’m terrified of bears. It’s true. All my life, I’ve been ursaphobic.

My fear of bears is a real problem when I go camping. Unless I’m in a large group, I’m always nervous — especially if the camping trip involves a long hike into remote territory. It’s also a problem any time I go to Alaska.

When I visited Alaska in 2010, I had a couple of close encounters with bears. The first time, we saw a group of bald eagles feeding on some grizzly corpses near the shoreline. (Yes, the bears were dead — killed by hunters on another boat — but I knew there were probably more around. And I had no doubt they wanted vengeance!)

Later in the trip, Mac and I took an uphill hike at a bay north of Sitka. The well-worn trail was covered with bear scat and clawed tree trunks. I was terrified the whole time, and very relieved to make it back to the boat in one piece.

Kim finds my fear of bears amusing. On the first day of our trip, she sent me the following, which she found on Facebook:

So true. So true.

In Juneau, I paused for a photo op:

I don’t want to live anywhere signs like this are needed.

I had a close call in Skagway. Fortunately, the bear was more interested in getting me to buy jewelry than eating me (or the tasty salmon in my backpack):

That’s enough bear action for me to last several years. Now, of course, I’m in Ecuador, where there are no bears. There are only jaguars. I’m fine with jaguars. I like cats…

My First Motorcycle

When I was a boy, I loved motorcycles. I was fascinated by the exploits of Evil Knievel, and liked watching motorcycle riders on the highway.

I never got a chance to ride when I was young, though. My friend Torey had a dirt bike, and he’d let me ride behind him from time to time, but I never got a chance to ride myself.

In college, Kris had a Honda Spree scooter. That was fun. When we moved to Canby, though, she sold the scooter, and for twenty years, I didn’t ride again. Then, last year in Turkey, I spent an amazing day riding a scooter through Cappadocia. Combine that experience with a girlfriend who loves motorcycles (Kim has ridden them since she was twelve), and suddenly I had a goal. I wanted to get my motorcycle endorsement.

That’s not just a formality here in Oregon. To get your motorcycle permit, you need to pass a written test. (Which I did on a whim last October.) To get the motorcycle endorsement on your license, you need to take an officially-sanctioned three-day motorcycle training program. Kim and I have been talking about doing this together for over a year. In August, we finally made it happen.

I learned to ride on this Yamaha dual-sport bike.

The motorcycle safety course includes eight hours of on-bike training.

It’s official: I passed!

At the end of July, Kim bought her father’s Harley Sportster 883. He rode it from Boise to Portland; we drove him home. While in Boise, we all went shopping at the Harley store. Kim came home with these kick-ass riding boots.

Hot hot hot!

After I finished the motorcycle training program, I looked around for a “starter bike”. It didn’t take long to find a white 2006 Honda Rebel with only 3400 miles on it.

Guess who just rode home on his NEW MOTORCYCLE?!?

Looking very serious with my new bike.

Our friend Cody also wants to learn to ride. The first free Sunday, we took him to an empty parking lot and taught him the basics. The three of us spent a couple of hours going around in circles, weaving between water-bottle cones, and practicing quick stops.

Cody on my Rebel, getting the hang of gentle turns.

Feeling confident, I started riding my bike for errands. Very fun. And so much better to make dumb mistakes (I keep stalling in first gear!) at low speeds and in light traffic.

I was twenty minutes early for an appointment recently, so I decided to ride my motorcycle around the neighborhood. Up hills. Down hills. Around gentle corners. And so on.

I had slowed to take a sharp corner when I laid my bike down for the very first time. I’d turned my head to look into the turn, as I’d been trained to do, but had failed to account for the thing layer of loose gravel on top of the road. At about 12mph, I leaned into the turn — and the bike slid out from under me. It stopped almost immediately, coming to rest on my right leg. Ouch!

Fortunately, all I suffered were skinned knees and elbows and a bruised ego. And I learned a valuable lesson. Even a little gravel is hazardous to a motorcycle in a turn.

I’m actually a very cautious rider. I’ve been an avid bicyclist for over a decade, and I’ve been in one bad car crash. I know the biggest danger on the road is other drivers, so I’m very wary. And having crashed my bicycle several times, I know how important it is to get back out there and ride. If you take time off after a crash, you psych yourself out. You become afraid to ride.

So, naturally, I haven’t let me little motorcycle accident dampen my enthusiasm. As I prepped to leave for Ecuador, I completed all my errands by motorcycle. And I can’t wait to get home. There should be a couple of nice weekends left for me and Kim to take some joyrides through the Willamette Valley. And just wait until next summer! By then, I hope to graduate from my “starter bike” to something with a little more power…

Alaskan Cruise 2013

“Something about this place appeals to me,” I told Kim last week as our cruise ship glided through a remote corner of southeast Alaska. (Well, remote except for the two other cruise ships sailing directly behind us, that is.) “Some part of me likes the idea of living in a cabin with nobody around.” I paused. “Fortunately, the rest of me isn’t that crazy.”

That said, I’ve now visited Alaska three times in the last decade. I love the place. In 2004, Kris and I went on an Alaskan cruise with her parents. In 2010, a friend and I spent ten days in southeast Alaska on my neighbor’s boat. And last week, Kim and I took another cruise into the wilderness. We had a good time.

On the trip, I discovered the iPhone’s panoramic photo mode. It’s like a revelation! Whole new worlds of photography are available for me! So, if you’ll indulge me, here are some of the best photos from the trip, including a few panoramas.

Our sister ship, the NCL Jewel, and two others docked in Juneau.

On board the Norwegian Pearl somewhere in sunny Alaska. To the far right, you can see Kim chatting with new friends, Steve and Beverly.

On the NCL Pearl somewhere in sunny Alaska. Kim is on the right, chatting with new friends.

On the top deck of the NCL Pearl, gawking at the glaciers with other tourists.

We spent a LOT of time in the ship's spa. Very relaxing.

We spent a LOT of time in the Pearl’s spa. Kim is to the left, chatting with Leah.

The casinos on cruise ships are surprisingly busy…

In Juneau, we biked around Mendenhall Glacier.

In Skagway, we took a canoe trip to see Davidson Glacier.

We all got our feet wet on the walk into Davidson Glacier. It was totally worth it.

We were lucky enough to hike into (and across) the ice. Fantastic!

This glacier excursion stands as one of my peak travel experiences.

We got up-close and personal with the blue of the ice.

Happy happy happy.

In Ketchikan, we did an obstacle and zip-line course in the rain forest.

We only had a few hours in Victoria, but it was still a lot of fun.

We only had a few hours in Victoria, where we ate seafood and walking the waterfront.

We had a damn good time in Alaska. It’s not on our “must return” list (as Scotland is), but it’s close. Next up? In late February, Kim and I plan to visit Hawaii. As for me, I leave for three weeks in Ecuador on Thursday. Hasta pronto, mis amigos!