At 88, surrounded by his children and their children, he lies in a hospital bed as he witnesses his heart pumping less, his organs shutting down, and his body failing. It was only two days prior that this lover of life quit asking when his doctor would allow him to leave the hospital.

I enjoy behavioral economics and its applications. The works of Dan Ariely, Nassim Nicholas Taleb, Steven D. Levitt, Malcolm Gladwell, and Herb Simon have been excellent places for me to start. One of my interests is social currency. I'd like to share some thoughts about social investment and its proposed currency.

It doesn’t matter what has happened or is happening to us. It doesn’t matter what others did to us or how much we’ve inflicted on ourselves. Nothing matters anymore, except what we do today.

I had just finished a meeting that ended about an hour before Iftar. Taxis were scarce. So were Ubers; within 20 mins, three of them canceled on me as I stood baking in the sun. Then, AbdulRahman, my fourth attempt, messaged me in Arabic to say he was on his way. A while later, ...

The electronics kit that his dad gave him as a Christmas gift smelled like licorice. The oscilloscope had hundreds of loose components, dozens of circuits, and one ten-year-old to assemble them.

Today is Tuesday, 22 February 2022. 22.02.2022. There are mathematical descriptors for such numbers. It happens to be on a Tuesday. For many, it's the second day of a workweek. People who study the earth, the moons, the stars, and the universe talk about energies. This date falls in that realm.

and what I learned from them

It was a warm day. I looked up from my laptop screen to a tattoo. A barely legible one from where I was sitting and from where she was standing. Her back to me, picking up her drink. Something drew me to her. I squinted at the darn thing. Too far to read. It was too quick of an encounter for me to react.

To my left, she sat slightly shifted, looking out. Occasionally sipping from a cold drink, her virtual team meeting on her screen was engaging. This woman was so loud that I had no choice but to listen. Obnoxious, I thought! The volume of her towering voice owned the store.

She's straightforward, transparent, vulnerable, and titanium-strong. Holding her coffee in both hands, she told me that no matter how difficult your life turns out to be, you have a choice. You can break down or consider what happens to you as a blessing.

It was a hot day. Noonish. 30+ Celcius. Muggy. An authentic Beirut summer day. If you’ve been, you know what I’m talking about. I’ll attempt to describe this 2021 special blend.

He carries and has carried many titles. As for many of my friends and me, he's simply Fr. Paul to us. I spent an hour with him in this historic office suite in Bkerke. He wanted to dedicate our time to the issue closest to his heart — education.

I read between the lines and remembered my conversations to try and get wisdom from the fathers I interviewed. They don’t tell stories of being fathers. They are. This is an attempt to squeeze fatherhood from their stories. Here we go.

Hold the coffee. Meeting Nancy was over steak and sauteed vegetables. As we prepared lunch, two Martinis, an intriguing discussion, and air-conditioning, we were isolated from the 42 degrees in Doha.

I was visiting with his parents in Doha. His dad called him to greet me. Ray appeared Slender and tall, shook my hand, said hello, and quickly turned back to attend to whatever he was doing. The parents and I visited. One conversation led to another and another. I wanted to say hello to Ray one more time.

Ah! Her laugh. I can still hear its reverberations. Contagious. Starts deep from the guts and blasts out to a high-pitched giggle. The 6-second roar detoxes your spirit like a 60-minute massage relaxes your body. Happy, clean, pure, and joyful!

Three children buzzing in that suburban house. Each has their own needs, quirks, and wants. And when do they want it? Now. Mamabear is a master juggler. She's a zen master, fearless in her moves, caring, giving, knowing, and elegantly sloppy. At 29, Jeanine surfs life with zest, faith, and laughs.

They lived alongside this one traditional family whose customs were like the Lebanese villagers of a century ago. The man woke up at dawn, carried his steel pick, and walked down to the valley to work his orchards at the river bank.

A ball of fire. A bull at work. A big teddy bear at home. I met him through a common friend in Baskinta — a beautiful village in Mount Lebanon. Anthony encouraged me to have a coffee with the man. Fady has a story. A few weeks later, we met at Starbucks.

She’s clear-headed, in a good place, and grateful. An hour of intense conversation about the people who left an imprint in her life. The ones who helped her be what she is today. “I’m here because of them. It all started with us eight.”