0
items
$0
Featured
Grief is not a linear process. It ebbs and flows, weaves and turns, and loves to play jumprope with its order and availability. These are some thoughts on the first month after I lost my dad.
A eulogy for my father. Harry M. Halbkram, 73, of Ewing died Thursday, July 25, 2024. Born in Philadelphia, he was a former resident of Yardley, PA. Mr. Halbkram attended Columbia University Jewish Theological Seminary and was ritual director at NSS Beth-El in Highland Park, Ill. He was the manager of several Radio Shack stores before retiring.
It’s utterly devastating that this horrible thing will only continue to divide and destroy. It has no natural stopping point, no return to normalcy. Nothing resets. This is the new normal and nothing about this is normal.
Eight years ago, this very week, I took a trip to Los Angeles and pushed myself to be a better photographer for the first time in my life. I’ve been reminded of these memories over the last few days and really wanted to share them again and tell their story.
As of today, I have travelled this vast multiverse of possibilities - of endless outcomes, of connections, of impulses, of ideas, of roles and jobs and purposes, of loves, of losses, of mistakes and learning to grow from them, of living life - for 14,610 days.
The humidity of Austin’s night air tastes different than the air back home would on a similar night in the summer. The expansively empty Texas sky should be bright with the full moon, but tonight, the Texas humidity has covered everything.
Writing, for me, has always been the place where my curious mind and my curious imagination navigate the world in tandem. Telling stories started for me in early childhood, and I learned it by growing up in a family of storytellers. I take a look back at the storytellers who raised me in an effort to understand why I write.
I spent fifteen years working in the music business, getting ready to be called up to the show, and as soon as the call came in, I told the music business that it couldn’t afford me.
In 2020, social media brought me into the homes and spaces of everyone on my feed. In many cases, it got quite raw, honest, and authentic, which is one of my most favorite qualities. And while I didn't get to see many of you in real life, I did get to see your lives, and I know you better for it.
This is the story from my touring musical life, when I found myself after a show standing alone on the planet staring at the lights of Philadelphia.
(PHOTO CREDIT) In a year of unprecedented events, no news story in 2020 has brought me as much wide-eyed curiosity and bottomless fascination as the unexplained appearance of a free-standing monolith statue in northern Utah.
Gratitude may be a challenging practice for people to get their heads around at the moment but it plants you firmly in the present and gives you a stable point to focus on when you're feeling unstable. Let’s talk about radical gratitude.
Archeologists in Egypt recently made a profound discovery of ancient artifacts dating back more the 2600 years. I truly appreciate any time we discover something that's been lying around here, sight unseen, this whole time.
Our species loves to fight itself over who gets to write down its historical narrative, and we are currently struggling with the very existentialism of accountability while also wrestling history away from those in power who have tried to dictate it. It's a reminder that we need to do more to record and preserve our own history and not leave it up to others to tell.
As of today, Shuffle and Repeat episodes are no longer available in the usual places, and the series is on hold. But some exciting conversations from the past year will hopefully bring it back bigger and better than ever.
Quarantine has provided a reminder that the floor is the place where we first discover our curiosity, imagination and creativity. Get on my level about this: it’s time to return to the floor.
I would suggest that there’s a difference between ignorance and malicious intent. I know it’s hard to decipher between the two in these modern times because the line gets blurred by every opinion clanging around the internet looking for a like magnet. The solution, I think, is not to fear our ignorance, but to eliminate our capacity for malicious intent.
I never realized how powerful a hug really was until it became something that could kill all the people who’d give me one.
Imagine what would happen if we prioritized effort, time, self-care, and rest at this moment, instead of using all of our energy to prove our rightness and our certainty.
It hit me the other day that this thing is forcing everyone to live out their adolescence again, for the second time. If this is a second chance at being a teenager, then I think we should come out of it with a sense of wonder when we begin to rebuild the world anew.
Too often, men resort to listing the women in their lives as validation for their feminist tendencies, or as proof of their allegiance. It’s performative nonsense. In honor of International Women’s Day (and what would have been his great-grandmother’s 119th birthday), some rando dude lists the women in his life as validation of his desire for equality.
As I write this, I have been alive for 13,385 days, but the virus is spreading and who knows how much time we all have left. Thankfully though, the world is still spinning and our closest star burns above us some 91 million miles away. Maybe there’s still time.
July 4th presents an excellent opportunity to cut through the noise of media - both traditional and social - to revisit the founding principals of this country, as laid out in our Declaration of Independence. Doing so provides a remarkable chance to recognize that modern times are just as wonky as they were 250 years ago.
I once declared that Mark Zuckerberg would one day run for president, positing that his global reach and his ability to disrupt a system by building a bigger system might be a good fit for the most powerful leader in the world. As it turns out, POTUS would be a step down for the world’s youngest billionaire.
I’ve spent my entire life questioning what my Judaism means to me, and now I question if I’d feel safe returning to synagogue to pray. Thankfully, if anything has instilled confidence in me that I’ll one day feel safe enough to return, it is my Judaism.
For too long, I tried answering the question of "Who Am I" with the negatives or the inverses. I confused chaos for order. That's all in the past now.
Harry Halbkram has been many things - a teacher, a caregiver, a Cold War spy, and most importantly, my father. For more than a decade, has been fighting an endless war he knows he’s going to lose.