A few days ago, I was parked at a gas station and found this:
A million dollar bill doesn’t exist, though I didn’t know it at the time. I wondered if I should take it, and my first thought was: I can’t take this! It belongs to someone else, and I have a hunch they’re going to miss it if it’s not here. Then for a moment, I wondered what it’d be like if I did take it. I’d never have to worry about college or having enough money to attend conferences and publish books. The possibilities would be limitless… but I quickly realized how boring that would be. I wanted to earn my money and accomplishments with blood, sweat, and tears, and I wanted my struggles to inspire others. Simply taking a million dollars wouldn’t accomplish that. When I tell people my story, I want to highlight the difficulties and challenges. I want to grow from them. My dad has always told me stories of people who win the lottery before spending all of it and trashing themselves while they’re at it. I didn’t want to be one of those people, because though a million dollars coming out of nowhere might seem like a blessing, it’d actually be a curse.
So I left the bill, mainly because it wasn’t mine (and I was beginning to fear I’d intercepted some sort of transaction related to the cartels/mafia), but also because it was too easy.
“We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things,
not because they’re easy,
but because they’re hard.”
-John F. Kennedy
What would you do with a million dollars?