Foreword

I used to think my rich uncle was cheap.
Every time I needed money, I called him.
Every time I had a problem, I drove to his house.
And every time I arrived, I left with the same thing:Advice.
No check.No loan.No bailout.Just advice.
At twenty, I thought this was a terrible arrangement.
I had real problems.A broken car.Late rent.
A bad job.A failed relationship.
A business idea that needed "just a little money."
I wanted answers. I wanted solutions. I wanted someone to rescue me.
Instead, my uncle would pour two cups of coffee, sit down in his old chair, and ask questions.
Questions that irritated me.
"How did you get here?"
"What lesson are you refusing to learn?"
"What would happen if nobody came to save you?"
At the time, I thought he was avoiding the problem.
Years later, I realized he was trying to solve a much bigger one.
You see, my uncle understood something I did not.
Most problems are not money problems. They\'re thinking problems.
A broken car may really be a budgeting problem.
A budgeting problem may really be a discipline problem.
A discipline problem may really be a decision-making problem.
And decision-making problems have a funny way of showing up everywhere—in business, relationships, health, and life.
I also discovered something else.
My uncle wasn\'t rich because he had money.
He had money because he had wisdom.
He saw the world differently.
While most people chased quick fixes, he chased understanding.
While most people looked for someone to blame, he looked for lessons.
While most people worried about circumstances, he focused on choices.
The older I got, the more I realized that every conversation with him was really a class disguised as a story.
Sometimes he taught me about business.
Sometimes about history. Sometimes about investing.
Sometimes about failure. And sometimes about things I didn\\\'t even realize I needed to learn until years later.
There were days when I left his house frustrated because he hadn\\\'t answered my question.
Then, months or years later, I would suddenly understand exactly what he had been trying to teach me.
I have come to believe that every person needs someone like my rich uncle.
Someone who has made mistakes. Someone who has survived hard times.
Someone who can look at a problem and see beyond the obvious.
Someone who understands that wisdom is often more valuable than money.
The conversations in this book are based on years of talks, arguments, stories, and lessons. Some happened exactly as written. Some have been combined or simplified to better explain the ideas behind them.
The wisdom belongs to my uncle. Most of the mistakes belong to me.
If you are looking for shortcuts, this may not be the book for you.
My uncle never believed in shortcuts.
If you are looking for someone to tell you that life is easy, you won\'t find that here either.
Life is hard. People fail. Dreams don\'t always work out.
The world changes. But there is good news.
You always have choices.
You can learn. You can adapt.
You can start over.
And you can become wiser than you were yesterday.
That, according to my rich uncle, is what being rich is really all about.
So pull up a chair. Pour yourself a cup of coffee.
The old man is about to tell another story.