WHAT’S THE REALITY of most Americans’ financial life? It seems that many are having difficulty making ends meet. For instance, 42% of Americans say they’re struggling financially, the highest rate since Monmouth University began conducting its survey five years ago.

If this is true, many Americans are certainly in big trouble. But I think that’s a big “if.” Why do I doubt such findings?

For starters, the result is based on a survey, and people may not be honest in their answers.

I WISHED I HAD MY friend Chuck’s memory. He can remember things from our college days as if they happened yesterday. My memory isn’t nearly as good. There are, however, a few moments I’ll never forget.
I remember in high school when a classmate asked a girl, who was also in our class, if he could have her leftover orange peels. I knew Floyd well enough to know he went to school hungry some days.

IN THE COEN BROTHERS’ excellent movie, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, James Franco’s character is set for a good old-fashioned Wild West hanging. Franco appears to accept his fate, but there’s a poor slob next to him with a noose around his neck crying inconsolably. Franco quizzically turns to him and says, “First time?”
I cracked up when I watched that scene. It has since become a famous meme. I feel like uttering the same phrase when younger friends,

AS A RELATIVE newcomer to the wonderful world of personal finance and investing, I’m quickly learning that there’s more to money than numbers. I’m discovering from my own experiences, as well as that of others, that psychology plays a huge role in how we handle our finances.
We’re human beings, not machines. We aren’t completely logical. Yes, logic helps the process, but logic isn’t how we regularly process and digest information. Instead, we’re driven primarily by our emotions.

MY FAVORITE BOOK of all time is The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. The title may be the only thing that author Stephen Covey has ever written that I don’t like. This book and all of Covey’s work are exploding with life, integrity and meaning. I believe he does an incredible job conceptualizing the most important questions of a well-lived life. If you can’t tell, I’m a bit of a disciple.

DURING MARKET CRISES, I’ve sometimes made bad investment decisions—and sometimes I’ve successfully done nothing.
In 2008, I was living and working in Taiwan, meaning I heard what happened to U.S. stocks after the market was closed. When it’s 4 p.m. in New York, it’s 4 a.m. in Taiwan. I was also very busy at work.
This made it easier to do nothing about the 2008 stock market meltdown. I did nothing so well that by 2011,

I’VE ALWAYS BEEN fascinated by compounding. I discovered the concept at a young age. The idea of money making money was earth-shattering to me. Do you mean to tell me I don’t do any physical work and the money just grows? Yes, and—with enough time and interest—it can grow at lightspeed.
I was all in. I searched for everything I could on the subject. This is where my love for financial planning began. I wanted to follow all the rules of compounding: save early,

WE ALL HAVE GOOD habits and bad habits. One of my best habits: bringing my lunch to work.
I save both money and calories by brown-bagging it rather than buying lunch at a restaurant. My lunch of leftovers, along with a few pieces of fruit and a bottle of water, cost less than even a fast-food meal deal, and it’s healthier. What about the long-term savings from avoiding those additional calories? Researchers have found that excess body weight adds thousands of dollars to our annual health care expenses.

I RECENTLY LEFT A BID for a set of old, dusty chairs at a country auction. The next morning when I called the auctioneer, he told me I was the high bidder and the chairs’ new owner. As an economist, I immediately thought, “Wait—am I the winner or the loser here?”
The auction was held at the Elks Lodge in Rockland, Maine, where old furniture tends to go for a song. I had been drawn there by a picture of six Chippendale dining chairs supposedly made in Philadelphia in the 18th century.

PHYSICAL THERAPY IS a teaching profession. I am the teacher and my patients are the students. They come to me with a problem in need of a solution. I help them find the answer.
Most of my patients have never faced the daunting challenge of overcoming a physical disability caused by injury or disease. They don’t know where to begin. Many have also never put in the sustained effort needed to achieve a tough goal.

EARLY IN MY CAREER, I pursued a rigorous financial industry certification. Among the hoops I had to jump through: passing a seven-hour exam.
For 18 months, I woke up every day before work and studied for an hour. I found that consistency far more helpful than eight-hour weekend study sessions. Thanks to my daily commitment through the workweek, I only had to study for one to three hours each Saturday and Sunday.
Still, I didn’t want to get up most mornings.

I ENJOY PLAYING GOLF with friends and colleagues, but my game never seems to improve. Like many, I’m busy with my career and other activities, so I don’t make it a point to practice and, when I do, it’s rarely with an instructor.
Instead, when I head to the driving range to hit balls, it’s without a clear notion of what aspect of my game I’m going to concentrate on. It’s a trial-and-error process that’s modestly helpful at best.

TO MEASURE IS TO improve. Businesses, investors, athletes and others embrace this notion, and it undoubtedly has value. Still, earlier this year, when my bicycle’s decade-old computer—which measured speed, distance and cadence—finally quit on me, I didn’t replace it.
These days, when I go out for my morning 20-mile bike ride, I like to think I’m going reasonably fast and I’m not happy if another cyclist passes me. But I also know that, when I occasionally use the Strava app on my phone to clock my average speed,