Hop's Thoughts

New Beginnings. New Year, New Me! Out with the old and in with the new. Let's stop. We're not children anymore. New Year's Eve is a good excuse to have a party and tomorrow, we'll be cleaning the house, watching football, planning to go to work, or some other things we do all the time. Many have made resolutions, aka empty promises to begin something which could have been started on November 11th or any other day they chose not to. We use this day as an excuse to hold off and then begin anew. The reality is, we have rent to pay. car payments, food and gas to purchase. Same as any soon-to-be first of the month. For those of us who work in schools, we just passed the one-third mark in December. So this new beginning feels a lot like the same old, same old. This is not to say this calendar year shouldn't hold hopes for a brighter future. We can't get any worse than what we see in our political, religious, and general decency climate. We won't even discuss...

With the New Year coming, many, as is tradition will make, what they call resolutions. Many will be easy, such as going on a temporary diet, infrequently going to the gym, or making time for others. I say these are easy because they are easily achieved in one's own mind, regardless of whether or not an actual change has occurred. The more difficult ones, whatever they may be, are rarely addressed for any substantial period of time, if ever. The idea that the first of the year is a new beginning, is something we tell ourselves, one week after actually treating people as they are meant to be treated. The following week, however, normalcy, animosity, envy, and a plethora of other words, most not-so-nice, ending in Y, start to sprout. So what is something we can all do, together, as a society, no matter how big or how small, that will change our world? Not The  World, but our own internal and external worlds. What if we were all simply resolute? Resolute, by definition, means "A...

Yesterday, I tried reaching out to those I rarely speak with anymore. A simple holiday greeting, via Facebook, like I've done in the past and many times skipped altogether. I got some responses with well-wishes, but if you know me, that's not why I did it. Christmas is a day off, not a test. People are with their families, happy, together, maybe even joyous. Some are alone, trying not to succumb to the malaise that has set over them. I'm somewhere in the middle this season. Alone, yet still coming down from the visit that warmed me to this insane time of year. Last night, in the wee hours, while I lay in bed, I realized I had forgotten some. Today, while the impact of my words may see lessened, and the tone apologetic, I will try to connect to those who matter, but got lost in the shuffle. I do believe there is a reason that these people, who matter most, were lost in the shuffle. To call it subconscious would be silly, as it really comes down to their absence in my daily l...

Setting the timer to 8 minutes, in honor of Hannukah Peaceful. Alone, Quiet. Some of these are well-received, while others remind me that not much has changed in my life. I have people in spirit, both literally and, if you believe in that sort of stuff, figuratively. I'll remember those who are no longer with us and reminisce about all the laughs. I'll think about my mother often and wish she were still here to share in this stressful but wonderful time of year. It's hard to believe that one-third of my Decembers have been spent without her. Even harder to know she'd only be 78 come January. I have all I need, thanks to the generosity of my brother. Sure I want other things and maybe need is a strong word, but his help financially has eased my life. His visit, with his wife and children, was the best part of my year. Nothing else came close to topping my happiness during those moments. I felt part of something even after they left, but realized I'm still an outsid...

The pouting. The crying. The hitting. The blaming. The running. Some, not I, call it a meltdown. Through the tears, the shrieks, and the acting out, often, little bits of information, completely unrelated to the actual event are uttered. It all makes sense now and it's not going to change. Not for a while. Not until this new routine becomes just that; a routine.

I do not ever mock mental health. I do however understand that many serious afflictions, such as depression, anxiety, and panic attacks are catchphrases that garner attention for those who use social media to fulfill some sort of emptiness. This popular device has spilled over into regular relationships as well. The problem is, good people will always reach out. The other problem is, bad people, narcissists, sociopaths, psychopaths, and those simply so self-consumed that you don't matter, will use your kindness as a weakness, no matter how many times you post a meme warning others not to confuse your kindness as such. To be quite honest, only a borderline psycho or someone with incredibly low self-esteem would even think of posting such nonsense. Which gets me to the title of this blog; Surrounded. I work with children. This means two things. One, I must be well aware of my own flaws and, most importantly, able to handle them being pointed out, even mocked. I also have to be very...

I've been deleting a lot of the things I write recently. On the surface, many of them appear to more of the same. I think in some ways they are, but in others, I'm giving a little too much info about myself. Not the type that results in insurance fraud or a hacked phone, but information about who I am. I don't think most people understand that my critiques, criticisms, and simple observations about the world around me are real insights into who I am and more importantly where I am. I once told someone, in that very instant, they could ask me anything and I had to answer honestly. They chose not to ask me anything. That invitation, for them, is still open. I know what they will choose. Have you ever thought about what you'd ask someone if given the chance at a single question, with no reservations and no repercussions? It's daunting, more for the one asking than the one answering. Then again, how many people would answer a question like this honestly? How many peop...

It's not a word we use often. It's not a feeling we feel often. It's not an act we experience or witness very often. It is something I see, hear in another's voice and in their actions every day. It is something, to be quite honest, I find laughably intolerable. It is caused by one's own insecurities, anxieties, and inability to handle even the smallest of bumps in the road. It is self-created, often for no other reason than the need for attention. For if one were truly to be frantic, there would have to be a cause that could, maybe even should, cause dire results. Yet, those who act frantic, do so for no other reason than a lack of responsibility, accountability, and severe procrastination. The daily sighs let out and the solo conversations about being busy, running around, and the exclamation of "This is my life," is nothing more than a byproduct of living an inefficient lifestyle. A life where the simple task of waking up involved four presses of a ...

Humans have the gift of a complex language and one of the benefits of this gift is storytelling. Our ability to use words to give detailed descriptions of past events, allows us to invite our audience into our lives. The words, especially adjectives, enhance, often exaggerate the magnitude of these events, but they also add tension, excitement, and most of all charm. The ability to use language to enthrall another is a special gift. This ability is not as common as one may think.  Many people are said to have the gift of gab,  but I find it to be a rarity. Knowing which section of a story to put emphasis on is easy because it is the reason we're telling the story. Knowing how to build up to it is the real gift. Some people (most) put so much effort into the buildup we're well aware of what they had for breakfast and decided to wear, while we wait for the meat of the story. They spend so much time on insignificant aspects of life, that one begins to wonder if this event real...

Setting a timer for 6 Minutes Been listening to a lot of rap music lately. I assume it's subconsciously me trying to be young again. Happy. I don't dream anymore, but recently, I had one and it bothered me. Maybe it means something more than its surface value. They say they all do. They say a lot. They, the masses, are usually wrong. I feel young and old simultaneously, but people, their words, their actions, remind me of the truth. I feel as though this is the first winter in my life I am feeling the cold. Four layers and still a chill. Shoveling has been a chore in years past. This year, I'm being acknowledged for it; even paid. It's only early-December, yet I'm shoveling. The seasons here seem to be but only two. Spring and Autumn last two weeks each. Or was it Summer? I miss an old friend and think of him often. Funny how those who could never get out of their own ruts, like me, always seemed to have some profound wisdom for others. I lack anyone like that in ...

As I comment on often, it is important to understand that thankfulness and gratefulness are not the same. In fact, the way the human psyche works, we often are (or become over time) thankful for that which we should be grateful for. Thankfulness is a feeling when something somewhat expected or anticipated happens. Gratitude is a feeling of appreciation that is consistent, remaining unchanged, over time. Thankfulness brings us brief happiness, while gratitude unlocks the joys we have in our lives. This year, I am thankful for those children I see every day. The ones who bring me out of my doldrums and, like every kid I've worked with for almost 30 years, allow me to feel appreciated in a selfish world. I am thankful for those who appreciate generosity and for those who display it. To me, for others, to the universe. I am thankful for the few good mornings, good nights, and all the exchanges between. They are few, but they hold great power, when I wake, I think, and before I sl...

The ice and snow came early this year, as did the selfish behavior. Just days after those who preach thankfulness and gratitude had finished their gluttonous ways, the harsh winter weather came rolling through. Ice, lots of ice, was followed by snow, lots of snow. Shovels scraped and plows plowed. Some took their time, meticulously clearing straight paths, then salted. Others vigourosly dug in, created pockets of space among mountains of snow. All had the same initial goal, but it was when one had completed their task that their true selves peeked through. Some lumbered through snow, down streets, around corners, through lawns no longer green. They helped the elderly, the sick, the parents with no wonder to supervise while they worked. Some simply helped those who had not woken, realizing they'd have done it for them; or maybe not. Others lay in bed, waiting for those selfless beings to clear a path, then at the very last minute, a cry of being busy or burdened, as they scraped h...