The Lottery.

What have I done?

I approach forty - month after next! - and it’s hard not to look sideways, backwards, all around and see what my peers are doing at this point and what they’ve accomplished. It’s hard not to think of the Social Security Administration statement I get every year informing me what I’ve kicked in for retirement and not think:

Can’t anything else be factored in besides my stupid income?

I always had money when I was a kid. I worked hard, I saved lots, I took good care of what I had, I loved getting gifts for people and investing in things important to me. All the way through the end of college. Figured I’d probably end up in law school. Did not think that money would ever be an issue as an adult.

Skip a whole bunch of time and through a whole bunch of stuff. Short version is:

money is an issue as an adult.

When I was in high school, I used to think that the way that I’d know I was financially successful would be when I no longer even looked at the menu prices at a restaurant. A little thing, but a measurable thing.

And that seems even further out of reach now than it did then.

I wish I had more money.

But I also hope I don’t win the lottery. There’s not a major danger of that, as I don’t purchase lottery tickets and rarely gamble. There’s a couple stories on that, but those are for another time.

I’d like to think that I respect money and the opportunities it can offer for freedom from doing things I don’t have to do and being able to spend more time doing the things I’d like with the people I love most.

I get stressed. I wish I could be super cool and strong and say I don’t. But I do. Despite all the platitudes about not worrying, I still worry, and most of the worries I have have to do with money in some form. But we make things work and we mostly pay our bills and we keep parts of little dreams alive and we’ve built…

…a life that is filled with a lot of time doing things I like with people I love so much.

When I think of different choices I might have made that might have changed some of the numbers on my Social Security statement and maybe made some parts of life a little easier some times, then it’s a little hard. Hard to think about how much easier some parts of life might be. I woulda been a pretty decent lawyer, I think.

Or I coulda thrown myself into some other careers, instead of the one I did that still involves my wife needing to work as well, and me needing to work a lotta nights and not sleep a whole lot sometimes. And still not make a ton of Bens.

But I also look at what I’ve invested in, and it’s difficult to regret the choices I’ve made, we’ve made, that have allowed us the ability to invest in people. Through wonderful times and challenging times, ups and downs, rocky roads and flat highways, the lives we’ve created have given us the ability to craft many mini-adventures together and to be in the right position to make the investment possible: in each other and in those we love. To be there when needed and simply make ourselves available for the ones most important.

We have children - and I include my beautiful nephew and niece - who love the outdoors; who are growing up with a love for nature and art and science; who are growing up with a hands-on ability to learn and ask questions and be kind…

…and we have the time to not just say those words a few times and expect them to learn it. We have the time to practice modeling those things and to bleed them into our cores; to absorb them to our big hearts and make them not just ritual or habit but part of the ever-present beating drum of our souls.

I hope we have more money someday than we have right now. But I also hope we don’t win the lottery or get some big windfall. Because we’ve worked hard and fought well to make all kinds of beautiful little memories with what we got. Most of all, with the people we got. We’ve scrapped and been inventive and imaginative with how we spend our time and use our resources. And I wonder how having a big bucket of money would change the way we invest our time. I don’t know. But I’m a little scared to find out.

One of the things I love so much about my bud Rach, who also doubles as Becca’s sister, besides her wit and humor, is her affection for people, coupled with wry observations, and embracing of tiny adventures. Adventures with many, many small moments of joy and beauty and humor to grab hold of and make memories. Things you don’t gotta break a bank for.

Some good food. Snacks. Coffee. Banter and meandering conversation. Laughing. A beautiful place where you can run and dig and dirty and wet…or sit on a piece of driftwood and watch little kids do those things.

Those are the things people work and work and work and sacrifice for so they can someday do those things with their families.

We may not be doing it on a Venice beach.

But Oregon ones are pretty unbeatable too. And we know how to holiday well. Yes, I just used it as a verb.

I hear myself sounding like my mom here, but…

…but I guess I kinda have won the lottery.

My investment.