A Million Miles in a Thousand Years
My favorite Donald Miller book is still Through Painted Deserts.
But I gotta say, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years is pretty good. I’ve always preferred it when Miller’s spiritual memoirs end up more like nonfiction novels. I enjoy his ability to tell a story. I suppose that’s what made A Million Miles so good for me; the whole thing is about story. Miller’s witty writing style and Scrubs-like fantasy interruptions made the book an easy and enjoyable read. I’d recommend you go pick it up, grab some Star Crunches and a box of tissues, and settle into the couch with your Snuggie.
There was one thing I didn’t like about the book, though. And this one thing really bothered me. Miller encourages his readers to get out of the house and to live better stories. He recounts his own recent adventures climbing mountains, kayaking river valleys, and riding a bike across America as anecdotal inspiration. He describes some of the incredible people he met on his journey, and at times, he seems to nearly idealize them as the epitome of what the life he describes. What bugs me about all of this, romantic as it all is, is that these people are all wealthy Americans. They have the time and luxury to take extravagant vacations all over the world to do some admittedly awesome things. I wonder how well Miller’s audience will be able to relate to the ideals of living a good story when most of the examples imply a lifestyle well beyond the means of many.
That being said, I don’t think Miller intended these implications. In fact, in the book, he offers several stories that are more… well, affordable. But such adventures don’t get nearly the coverage as the lavish vacation homes, the opportunities to ride motorcycles across the Middle East or climb mountains in Peru, or friendly relationships with world leaders. Having read the book, I’m just not sure that many people could give up the time and drop the cash that Miller seems to imply make a good story. For as much as he decries the American systems of advertising and convenience, he occasionally seems to buy into the idea that money can buy one a good story.
Despite this, it’s a wonderfully fun book. I’ll leave you with my favorite passage, which comes near the end:
Before I learned about story, I was becoming a fatalist. I was starting to believe you couldn’t feel meaning in life because there wasn’t any meaning to be found. But I don’t believe that anymore. It’s a shame, because you can make good money being a writer and a fatalist. Nietzsche did it with relative success. Not personal success, mind you, because he rarely got out of bed. But he’s huge with twenty-something intellectuals. He’s the Justin Timberlake of depressed Germans, and there are a lot of depressed Germans (p. 247).
Great point about the wealthy Americans and the “stories” they create. But I was inspired by the book to do more with what I have instead of just existing.
I don’t know, I’ve made some pretty good stories & I am as poor as all get out. Of course, that was when I could quit my job for the summer, go to Asia & then when I got back 2 months later, get the same job back with same or more pay. It would be a bit harder now, partially with the problem with the American work ethic. That is – if you are not at work at least 5 days a week & doing something during your entire day, even if its just busy work, you’re not working hard enough. You’re being lazy. I prefer the S. Asia/Latin America ideal where getting the job done is the important thing, not the pace at which you get it done. How can you enjoy life when all your doing is working at a break neck pace for more money to buy more things? And I admit I am part of this world: I want some more money so i can buy better headphones to play my HD games on an HD TV.
And some adventures are cheaper than people think (at least if they are willing to stay in econ hotels): Pretty sure you could go on a 2 week trek through parts of Peru for less than $2k a person. Thats the same or less than an overpriced Macbook Pro that people waste their money on. And I know the same is true for the Amazing Thailand. I would recommend anybody make a 3 year plan to take off 2-3 weeks & go to fun 3rd world country. Start saving money (stop drinking lattes, eating out so much, buy lees &/or used video games) & vacation time & go have an adventure. Haven’t read this book yet, but am looking fw to it.
I just read it a week or so ago. Good thoughts, especially about the implications for such thinking, especially for those without resources to do some of the things Don did. Someone had to work in the factory that made the plane that took Don to Peru, etc. As I jokingly say, “someone’s got to be average.”
I was personally challenged to be more pro-active in my life by reading the book.
Did anyone else find that the book lost some steam in the latter third?
I got the same sense from the book when I read it, thinking that it would be very difficult for me to live out some of those type adventures he mentions without leaving my wife and family first. Miller is a great story teller for sure, sometimes he comes across a little arrogant. Regarding the money makes it happen scenerio, I read a quote this morning: “Money doesn’t make you happy, but neither does poverty for that matter.”
I should clarify that I did like the book, and it was inspirational. I’m not saying that Miller’s message is defunct. All I’m saying is that he harms his own message by using these grand adventures as the primary examples. I liked the smaller stories that didn’t get near as much attention, such as the dad who put on his suit for the picture with his daughter. I wish there had been more to encourage people to make every minute magical rather than working towards epic-like quests.