The Harvest is Plentiful

Life By A Thousand Cuts

Why is it, when you swing with all your might, with everything you’ve got, with 100% strength, you end up hitting a little dribbler or missing the ball entirely?

It’s because, in my experience, when you’re swinging from your heels, you’re not using good technique. You’re trading skill for sizzle, humility for the highlight reel.

I get the temptation.

The truth is, though, you just have to take your cuts. Go for the aggregate. Swing over and over. A thousand times. And to do that, you can’t save it all for one mighty swing. For just the right moment. For just the right time. You have to space them out. Group them out. And focus on the long season. On the long game. You have to step up to the plate. Time and time again.

Recently, I’ve read several books which have lead me to comprise a hybrid theory I’m calling “The 1,000 Swings” project.

It’s in an effort to build my failure immunity. And to, all things being equal, test the inherent advantage in out-hustling others. The advantage of big numbers.

I’m going to step up 1,000 times.

Life is like baseball. Humbling. Realistic. Played in seasons. Except you don’t have to bat 1.000. You don’t even have to bat .200. You just have to get a lot of hits. And how do you do that if you’re a terrible hitter? You just have to keep stepping up to the plate. You just have to keep swinging.

A bad hitter who gets hits only 20% of the time gets the same results as a perfect hitter, if the bad hitter gets up five more times. If they try five more times. If they hustle five times harder.

This is a profound truth. All things being equal, you can get more hits than Ichiro, although it might take you A LOT more swings than a thousand. The good news is we’re not limited to four or five times up to bat per day. We get to step up as many times as we want to. You’re only limited by your willingness to play the game.

Expect to fail. You will strikeout. Build it into the experiment. Would you trade 800 strikeouts for 200 hits?

Instead of waiting to craft that perfect email, that perfect phone call, that perfect product or service. How about you just go and hack?

Trust me, you’ll be so busy figuring out who to reach out to next, and who to reply to, than ever worry about who hasn’t written back. You’ll get more done in the next 24 hours than you have in the past 24 days. I promise.

If I told you that success, whatever it is to you, was on the other side of 1,000 outs, would you try 1,001 times? Would you keep hacking? Yes? Well it’s well short of a thousand. It might be the 1st time you step up, you hit a home run. It could be the 888th. But once you feel that special physical resonance of bat connecting with ball, with the satisfaction of playing the long game, you’ll keep stepping up to the plate.

And you’ll realize that you’re only out when you stop playing.

Life by a thousand cuts.

Play ball!

Wealthy Ben



The Body

Of Benjamin Franklin, printer,

(Like the cover of an old book,

Its contents torn out,

And stripped of its lettering and gilding)

Lies here, food for worms;

Yet the work itself shall not be lost,

For it will, as he believed, appear once more,

In a new

And more beautiful edition.

Corrected and amended

By the Author.


This is the entire essay, “The Way to Wealth,” written by Benjamin Franklin as Poor Richard. It is as timely today as when Ben wrote it two and a half centuries ago. If you prefer it as a pdf, here it is: The Way to Wealth. Enjoy.



By Benjamin Franklin
(Formatted by Alex Chung,


Courteous Reader,

I have heard, that nothing gives an author so great pleasure, as to find his works respectfully quoted by others. Judge, then, how much I must have been gratified by an incident I am going to relate to you. I stopped my horse lately, where a great number of people were collected, at an auction of merchants’ goods. The hour of sale not being come, they were conversing on the badness of the times; and one of the company called to a plain, clean old man, with white locks:

“Pray, father Abraham, what think you of the times? Will not these heavy taxes quite ruin the country? How shall we ever be able to pay them? What would you advise us to?”

Father Abraham stood up, and replied:

“If you would have my advice, I will give it you in short for a word to the wise is enough, as poor Richard says.”
They joined in desiring him to speak his mind, and gathering round him, he proceeded as follows:

Friends, says he, the taxes are, indeed, very heavy, and, if those laid on by the government were the only ones we had to pay, we might more easily discharge them but we have many others, and much more grievous to some of us. We are taxed twice as much by our idleness, three times as much by our pride, and four times as much by our folly and from these taxes the commissioners cannot ease or deliver us, by allowing an abatement. However, let us hearken to good advice, and something may be done for us God helps them that help themselves, as poor Richard says.

I. It would be thought a hard government that should tax its people one tenth part of their time, to be employed in its service: but idleness taxes many of us much more sloth, by bringing on diseases, absolutely shortens life. Sloth, like rust, consumes faster than labor wears, while the used key is always bright, as poor Richard says. But do you love life, then do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of, as poor Richard says. How much more than is necessary do we spend in sleep! Forgetting that the sleeping fox catches no poultry, and that there will be sleeping enough in the grave, as poor Richard says.

If time be of all things the most precious, wasting time must be, as poor Richard says, the greatest extravagance in spending; since, as he elsewhere tells us, lost time is never found again; and what we call time enough, always proves little enough: let us then up and be doing, and doing to the purpose; so by diligence shall we do more with less perplexity. Sloth makes all things difficult, but industry all easy and, he that wakes up late, must trot all day, and shall scarce overtake his business at night while laziness travels so slowly, that poverty soon overtakes him. Drive thy business, let not that drive thee and early to bed, and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise, as poor Richard says.

So what signifies wishing and hoping for better times? We may make these times better, if we bestir ourselves. Industry need not wish, and he that lives upon hope will die fasting. There are no gains without pains; then help hands, for I have no lands, or, if I have, they are smartly taxed. He that hath a trade, hath an estate; and he that hath a calling, hath an office of profit and honor, as poor Richard says; but then the trade must be worked at, and the calling well followed, or neither the estate nor the office will enable us to pay our taxes. If we are industrious, we shall never starve; for, at the working man’s house hunger looks in, but dares not enter. Nor will the bailiff or the constable enter, for industry pays debts, while despair increases them. What though you have found no treasure, nor has any rich relation left you a legacy diligence is the mother of good luck and God gives all things to industry. Then plow deep, while sluggards sleep, and you shall have corn to sell and to keep. Work while it is called today, for you know not how much you may be hindered tomorrow. One today is worth two tomorrows, as poor Richard says and farther; never leave that till tomorrow, which you can do today.

If you were a servant, would you not be ashamed that a good master should catch you idle? Are you then your own master? Be ashamed to catch yourself idle, when there is so much to be done for yourself, your family, your country, and your king. Handle your tools without mittens, remember, that the cat in gloves catches no mice, as poor Richard says. It is true, there is much to be done, and, perhaps, you are weak handed but stick to it steadily, and you will see great effects; for constant dropping wears away stones and by diligence and patience the mouse ate in two the cable and little strokes fell great oaks.

Methinks I hear some of you say: must a man afford himself no leisure? I will tell thee, my friend, what poor Richard says: employ thy time well, if thou meanest to gain leisure; and since thou art not sure of a minute, throw not away an hour. Leisure is time for doing something useful; this leisure the diligent man will obtain, but the lazy man never; for, a life of leisure and a life of laziness are two things. Many, without labor, would live by their wits only, but they break for want of stock whereas industry gives comfort, and plenty, and respect. Fly pleasures, and they will follow you. The diligent spinner has a large shift; and now I have a sheep and a cow, everybody bids me good morrow.

II. But with our industry, we must likewise be steady, settled, and careful, and oversee our own affairs with our own eyes, and not trust too much to others for, as poor Richard says: I never saw an oft-removed tree, Nor yet an oft-removed family, That throve so well as those that settled be. And again: three removes is as bad as a fire: and again; keep thy shop, and thy shop will keep thee: and again: if you would have your business done, go; if not, send: and again: He that by the plough would thrive, Himself must either hold or drive.

And again: the eye of a master will do more work than both his hands: and again: want of care does us more damage than want of knowledge: and again: not to oversee workmen, is to leave them your purse open. Trusting too much to others care is the ruin of many: for, in the affairs of this world, men are saved, not by faith, but by the want of it. But a man’s own care is profitable; for, if you would have a faithful servant, and one that you like, serve yourself. A little neglect may breed great mischief: for want of a nail, the shoe was lost; for want of a shoe, the horse was lost; and, for want of a horse, the rider was lost, being overtaken and slain by the enemy: all for want of a little care about a horse-shoe nail.

III. So much for industry, my friends, and attention to one’s own business: but to these we must add frugality, if we would make our industry more certainly successful.

A man may, if he knows not how to save as he gets, keep his nose all his life to the grindstone, and die not worth a grain at last. A fat kitchen makes a lean will; And Many estates are spent in the getting, Since women for tea forsook spinning and knitting, And men for punch forsook hewing and splitting.

If you would be wealthy, think of saving, as well as of getting. The Indies have not made Spain rich, because her outgoes are greater than her incomes.

Away then, with your expensive follies, and you will not then have so much cause to complain of hard times, heavy taxes, and chargeable families: for Women and wine, game and deceit, Make the wealth small, and the want great.

And farther: what maintains one vice, would bring up two children. You may think perhaps that a little tea, or a little punch now and then, diet a little more costly, clothes a little finer, and a little entertainment now and then can be no great matter; but remember, many a little makes a mickle [large amount]. Beware of little expenses; a small leak will sink a great ship, as poor Richard says: and again: who dainties love, shall beggars prove: and moreover: fools make feasts, and wise men eat them.

Here you are all got together to this sale of fineries and knickknacks. You call them goods; but, if you do not take care, they will prove evils to some of you. You expect they will be sold cheap, and, perhaps, they may for less than they cost; but, if you have no occasion for them, they must be dear to you. Remember what poor Richard says: buy what thou hast no need of, and before long you shall sell your necessities. And again: at a great penny-worth pause a while. He means, that perhaps the cheapness is apparent only, and not real, or the bargain, by straightening thee in thy business, may do thee more harm than good. For in another place he says: many have been ruined by buying good pennyworths. Again, it is foolish to lay out money in a purchase of repentance; and yet this folly is practiced every day at auctions, for want of minding the almanac. Many a one, for the sake of finery on the back, have gone with a hungry belly, and half-starved their families. Silks and satins, scarlet and velvets, put out the kitchen fire, as poor Richard says. These are not the necessaries of life; they can scarcely be called the conveniences; and yet only because they look pretty, how many want to have them? By these, and other extravagancies, the genteel are reduced to poverty, and forced to borrow of those whom they formerly despised, but who, through industry and frugality, have maintained their standing: in which case it appears plainly, that a ploughman on his legs is higher than a gentleman on his knees, as poor Richard says. Perhaps they have had a small estate left them which they knew not the getting of; they think it is day, and will never be night; that a little to be spent out of so much is not worth minding; but always taking out of the meal-tub, and never putting in, soon comes to the bottom, as poor Richard says; and then, when the well is dry, they know the worth of water. But this they might have known before, if they had taken his advice: if you would know the value of money, go and try to borrow some; for he that goes a borrowing, goes a sorrowing, as poor Richard says; and, indeed, so does he that lends to such people, when he goes to get it in again. Poor Dick farther advises, and says: Fond pride of dress is sure a very curse; before fancy you consult, consult your purse.

And again: pride is as loud a beggar as want, and a great deal more saucy. When you have bought one fine thing, you must buy ten more, that your appearance may be all of a piece; but poor Dick says, it is easier to suppress the first desire, than to satisfy all that follow it: and it is as truly folly for the poor to ape the rich, as for the frog to swell, in order to equal the ox: Vessels large may venture more, But little boats should keep near shore.
It is, however, a folly soon punished: for, as poor Richard says, pride that dines on vanity, sups on contempt; pride breakfasted with plenty, dined with poverty, and supped with infamy. And, after all, of what use is this pride of appearance, for which so much is risked, so much is suffered? It cannot promote health, nor ease pain; it makes no increase of merit in the person, it creates envy, it hastens misfortune.

But what madness must it be to run in debt for these superfluities? We are offered, by the terms of this sale, six months of credit; and that, perhaps, has induced some of us to attend it, because we cannot spare the ready money, and hope now to be fine without it. But, ah I think what you do when you run in debt; you give to another power over your liberty. If you cannot pay at the time, you will be ashamed to see your creditor; you will be in fear when you speak to him; you will make poor pitiful sneaking excuses, and, by degrees, come to lose your veracity, and sink into base, downright lying; for, the second vice is lying, the first is running in debt, as poor Richard says: and again, to the same purpose: lying rides upon debt’s back: whereas a free-born Englishman ought not to be ashamed nor afraid to see or speak to any man living. But poverty often deprives a man of all spirit and virtue. It is hard for an empty bag to Stand upright. What would you think of that prince, or of that government, who should issue an edict forbidding you to dress like a gentleman or gentlewoman, on pain of imprisonment or servitude? Would you not say that you were free, have a right to dress as you please, and that such an edict would be a breach of your privileges, and such a government tyrannical? And yet you are about to put yourself under that tyranny, when you run in debt for such dress! Your creditor has authority, at his pleasure, to deprive you of your liberty, by confining you in jail for life, or by selling you for a servant, if you should not be able to pay him. When you have got your bargain, you may, perhaps, think little of payment but, as poor Richard says, creditors have better memories than debtors creditors are a superstitious sect, great observers of set-days and times. The day comes round before you are aware; and the demand is made before you are prepared to satisfy it: or, if you bear your debt in mind, the term, which at first seemed so long, will, as it lessens, appear extremely short: time will seem to have added wings to his heels as well as his shoulders. Those have a short Lent, who owe money to be paid at Easter. At present, perhaps, you may think yourselves in thriving circumstances, and that you can bear a little extravagance without injury but For age and want save while you may, No morning sun lasts a whole clay.

Gain may be temporary and uncertain; but ever, while you live, expense is constant and certain and it is easier to build two chimneys, than to keep one in fuel, as poor Richard says: so, rather go to bed hungry, than rise in debt.

Get what you can, and what you get hold: It is the stone that will turn all your lead into gold.

And when you have got the philosopher’s stone, sure you will no longer complain of bad times, or the difficulty of paying taxes.

IV. This doctrine, my friends, is reason and wisdom: but, after all, do not depend too much upon your own industry, and frugality, and prudence, though excellent things for they may all be blasted, without the blessing of heaven and, therefore, ask that blessing humbly, and be not uncharitable to those that at present seem to want it, but comfort and help them. Remember Job suffered, and was afterwards prosperous.

And now, to conclude, experience keeps a dear school, but fools will learn in no other, as poor Richard says, and scarce in that: for, it is true, we may give advice, but we cannot give conduct: however, remember this, they that will not be counseled, cannot be helped; and further, that if you will not hear reason, she will surely rap your knuckles, as poor Richard says.

Thus the old gentleman ended his harangue. The people heard it and approved the doctrine, and immediately practiced the contrary just as if it had been a common sermon: for the auction opened, and they began to buy extravagantly.

I found the good man had thoroughly studied my almanacs, and digested all I had dropped on those topics during the course of twenty -five years. The frequent mention he made of me, must have tired anyone else, but my vanity was wonderfully delighted with it, though I was conscious, that not a tenth part of the wisdom was my own, which he ascribed to me, but rather the gleanings that I had made of the sense of all ages and nations.

However, I resolved to be the better for the echo of it; and, though I had at first determined to buy a new coat, I went away, resolved to wear my old one a little longer. Reader, if you will do the same your profit will be as great as mine.

I am, as ever, thine to serve thee,

Richard Saunders.

Ampersands of Time

Every tale starts with an origin story.

This is mine.

But first, a question (and a few follow-ups): If your life was a movie, would you pay to watch it? What role would you play: Hero, villain, supporting character, or extra? Who wrote the screenplay? Who directed it? Was it you?

I have always been an antihero kinda guy. A good guy trying to be bad or the other way around. Who can remember? My heroes are flawed. Rough around the edges. Survivors. In the arena.

My first baker’s dozen years were in the Big Apple. Our family ran small mom and pop businesses. Lots of them. It’s who we were. A grocery store on the corner of Broadway and 94th was my first playground and I would spend my endless summers playing video games every place I could find them. And you had to look for them back then. In corner groceries. In the back of restaurants and diners. In huge arcades. I would ride the subway and transit buses for miles to search for more adventure, more dangerous missions, and bigger badder bosses to triumph over.

My family toiled to create better for their children. They wanted their children to rise to respected professionals, they wanted us to become doctors or lawyers.

So I did the latter.

But before all that, we moved from NYC to suburbia Michigan when I was barely a teen. I went to college in-state and pursued my love of writing, reading, and philosophy. Doctor Chung was most certainly not in my stars.

Being a young man in a smallish town, I did what young men in smallish towns do:
I left. I went left, too. To the wild, wild, west, where the streets were paved with gold, or at least, silicon. Northern California. The Bay. The Valley.

*Fast forward*

I reached my legal professional peak in Menlo Park, where my identity was set as counsel for founders of startups seeking venture capital funding. It was exactly what I wanted to be doing. My dream job. But I didn’t love it. It was electric helping entrepreneurs seek the resources they needed to keep their dreams alive, but something was missing. There was this hole.

Is this all there is?

Had I achieved the American Dream? It felt off. Not wrong, off. As if I were wearing another person’s (really nice) shoes.

It became clear I was spiraling, so I went left, again. I crash landed into another dream job as vice president of an international muay thai organization. A huge win, because I loved muay thai, the company’s brand and its incredible tribe. It was the perfect amalgamation of my passions and my profession.

But I didn’t love it. The unquantifiable, intangible it. Getting the it part right, I was learning, is the key.

I left again and did what everyone should do when they are hurting. When they are lost. When they need to heal:

I went right; that is, I went home.

*Fast forward*

I am a husband and father, now. A family man. How about that.

You’ve discovered me on a quest to help others play the long game of life. To own their names, their identities and their personal brands. To become a champion leader. It’s sort of like the rest of my story, except:

I love it all.

It is vital to venture. To dip your toes (or dive) into the Pacific Ocean. To see what there is to see. To own your hours.

The best part of the journey of infinite progress? You’re among kindred spirits. Always. There are many of us. Searching. Yearning. You, too?

We are all on the way. On the path. Call it what you wish: Enlightenment. Self-Actualization. Eudaemonia. Transcendence. We are walking the earth and getting into (mis)adventures to reveal who we are, what we want, and what the next step is.

Who are you?

I am all American. Just not the kind you might be used to. I am a mixture of organic ingredients: A pound of east coast grit, a pound of midwest values, and a pound of west coast vision. My heartbeat is the American South, I have found. And my tastebuds and tenacity are somewhere in the neighborhood of an old Korean grandmother. I have spent the better part of a decade blending it all together and scratching my own itch.

I am humbled to be called a leader. Called to be a writer. Named over the years as an evocator, entrepreneur, engager, esquire, and encourager. Branded a maverick. A ninja. My favorite titles are Appa (daddy) and husband.

Our stories get told. Whether we pick pens, brushes, cameras, microphones, or just plain silence. They get told. What follows are the scenes from my life. Past, present, and future. In order and out. Like life itself.

This is my story about playing the game of life the right way. And about helping others play it, too.

It’s my it.

It’s also about what happens between:




About living the happily ever after.

About living the ampersand.