Jagged edges slide into grooves,
a pattern of irregular shapes
a pattern
beautiful in its complexity.
Heartache smoothed by grace.
Bits of loss reformed.
The pieces make the whole.
Expectations
rigid and firm
shattered to bits,
by Grace reformed.
A new model.
A new whole.
The pieces make the whole.
sj hylton lehoven — 17 may 2024
Today,
right now,
I celebrate
Me !!!
My capacity to love,
to accept,
to be in life,
as it is,
right now.
Trusting, trusting, trusting,
come what may.
sj – 16 october 2023
Mahalo Ke Akua
that’s my family — mom, dad, aunt, siblings and two best friends — moi ? front row, second from the left
Dear Friends,
Ages have passed since I last posted. Being a social hermit suits me, I find. One of the beautiful aspects of the aging process is the clear understanding that we all have to live according to our own unique rhythm and style — even, or perhaps especially, in the midst of global upheaval and change.
Just a few moments ago, I felt a tap on my heart to share the bonus section I added to the 2nd edition of my book My Life as a Mule, and so I shall. I realize that my book is a strange creation to most readers . . . and yet, I could not have written it any other way.
May the *Eagle’s wise words bring you solace and hope.
With warm Aloha,
* Sj *
*Below in bold.
CAN YOU KEEP A SECRET?
or
DO I HAVE TO?
“Molly, wake up.”
The counselor gently tugged the Mare’s mane. Her reaction—to roll onto her other side while remaining asleep—effectively pushed Miss Betsy off the narrow bed and onto the aged pine floor.
“Molly,” the Rabbit persisted, “you need to wake up.” Again, Miss Betsy tumbled to the floor.
The third try charmed Molly into opening her eyes. “Minnie?” she asked, yawning until the counselor clearly saw that this camper had ample room for wisdom teeth.
“It’s Miss Betsy,” she whispered. “I need for you to quietly get out of bed. Please don’t awaken the others. I’ll explain everything outside.”
She quickly hopped out the door and waited for Molly to join her.
As Molly wiped the sleep from her eyes, Miss Betsy spelled out what was happening: One, you’re the Indian Princess for Cabin Six; two, you are not to speak or the title will be revoked; three, the ceremony will take place at the campfire.
Speckles of light fell through the trees joining a swarm of fireflies. A silent parade traipsed through the freckled woods, heading towards a distant burnt-orange glow where Butch stood at the end of the trail waving a lamp for all to see. One-by-one he steered the solemn marchers towards the logs. Once seated, he too joined them in facing the hot blue fire.
Steam from the day’s earlier downpour filled the hollow basin, matching the fog in Molly’s mind. The somber group waited in silence until the great Eagle stepped through the mist. His wings, spread wide, flapped slowly, clearing the air and sending warmth on the cool summer night to the yawning campers.
“Indian Princess, hear me. Look not to this world. Its signposts have been marred with time. Look to the heavens and go within. All that you seek, you already possess. The earth is our Mother. Nature, our family. Treat one another with respect.
Compassion is your Queen, be worthy. Kindness your King, honor him.
As part of the whole, there is no other you. Play your role well.
Live, breathe, and soar. Though the ground may pull, the power of flight is yours.
Trust in yourself and all that is.
Secret Handshakes are a fool’s game. Do you hear my words?”
Yes, the novices nodded.
“Then remember, be who you are, and accept others the same.
At each passing year, trade your shoes for a day with those of another. Feel their pain and discover it is yours. Feel their sorrow and know your own grief. Rejoice in our connection. Together we are one.
Now go. Live the life you are meant to live, and show others the way.”
Molly must have returned to her cabin with Miss Betsy, though she did not remember. What lingered was a feeling of responsibility, for her actions, words and dreams.
We’re connected. I must remember . . .
Excerpt from My Life as a Mule: a fictionalized memoir or a memoir with a twist by Sj Hylton LeHoven, 2nd edition
Then why earn it? you ask.
Who the heck knows! But I did.
At the time, all I knew was that I didn’t know what I wanted to “be” when I grew up. But I did know that I was good at sports and loved language (hence the Bachelor of Science in education focusing on foreign language and physical education). (*)
Fast forward to 30-odd years later, and there’s Sj working as a permanent substitute teacher in the middle of a bunch of mask-wearing 6th graders. (The official teacher chose to retire due to health reasons.)
In the midst of juggling those unexpected lesson plans — while treading water as fast as I could — I fell in love with those kids. As graduation time neared, and no one volunteered to edit their graduation video, I realized it had to be me. That official graduation video is not for public consumption. This short excerpt, however, is.
Enjoy!
I am from my 6th grade past,
from Sponge-Bob attire and ti-leaf lei.
I am from rainbows up high and chickens down low.
I am from Kaua‘i nei.
I am from both A Groups and B.
from Do we come this Wednesday?
and Which class is your fave?
I am from two teachers: one retired and one who stayed.
Both are with me always, in ways I can’t explain.
I am from Black Ships Before Troy and Walk Two Moons.
From playing my classmate’s mother and wearing another’s shoes.
I am from four-square and kickball and Do we have to go INS?
That wasn’t fifteen minutes! Can’t we start again?
I am from Math time! andgroans all around.
From Can you turn the a/c on? And—the lights OFF as well?
I am from a body that’s changing and talks about b.o.
Remember Monkey Man Mayhem?
And rolling-on-the-floor with a drum?
I am from Kumu on Wednesdays and library who-knows-when.
It’s time, Ms. Sj! You forgot—again!
I am from the land of the Greeks:
fun Olympics and marching in sheets!
I am a poet:
Haiku and Cinquain
Future Me and ABC
Kilauea School
I am from lying on damp grass with my friends,
arms straight, bodies curled, feet toe-to-toe.
Be I in the land of Aloha or far from these shores,
My Vorpal sword is ever ready, my strengths at my core.
I am from
my 6th grade past.
• • •
Can I go to the bathroom now?
I hope you can!
Inspired by: George Ella Lyon
Written by: Sj Hylton LeHoven for her 6th grade class
May 21, 2021
(*) I can see now that I was already riding the Trust Train. I trusted that my teaching certificate would lead to something exciting . . . and it did. First, a job as a fitness director aboard a cruise ship, and then later a position as a permanent substitute teacher on the island of Kaua‘i — a job I never could have imagined enjoying.
(**) Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll
The things we say.
The things we do.
We’re constantly weaving a fabric with our thoughts, words, and deeds.
A fabric that covers the entire planet.
IS the entire planet.
An interlacing of all that we are.
So many threads!
Each
a part
of
the
Whole.
sjhl – april 11, 2020
Hmmm, epiphanies.
What are they?
For me, they’re those moments
when in a blink of an eye,
your life changes.
For in that split second
you suddenly just KNOW something that you didn’t before.
And in the knowing, you wonder,
How could I not have known?
Because you couldn’t.
Up until that moment,
you simply could not.
Give us an example, Sj! I hear you say.
Okay, I shall.
In the past month, I was driving my van Pegasus (aka Pegi) when ALL OF A SUDDEN I just KNEW that I could ENJOY the moment. THAT moment. Relax INTO it. BE in that moment.
I didn’t need to wait until my work was finished. Or until I’d paid all my bills. Or even until I’d written another book. But in THAT moment, while driving my van along some country road, I could simply relax. Be.
No matter what was going on.
Around me.
Within me.
In any moment, I can simply BE.
Even in the midst of tragedy, Sj?
Yes, even in the midst of tragedy.
In times of despair?
Yes, even in times of despair.
For every moment is a gift.
Each breath is
an act of grace.
And for that, I am extremely thankful.
Why am I Where I am?
I have no idea.
And yet—I am.
So while I’m here,
I shall trust.
Trust—that I can only be where I am.
Trust—because I know that my soul would never steer me wrong.
Trust—because of my knowing.
A knowing that has been with me my entire life.
A knowing that I sometimes chose to ignore.
Looking the other way.
Convincing myself that I was doing the right thing.
All—in order to be a good girl.
Make my parents proud.
Fit in.
But—I’ve never fit in.
Ever.
So—when that little tap on my heart
shoved me out the door of my life—
I trusted.
Trusted—that all would be well.
Trusted—that I could never really make a mistake.
Not when I’m following my heart.
Not when I’m trusting.
Why am I where I am?
I have no idea.
But I know—that I am.
Sj Hylton LeHoven
Click on the title, My Life as a Mule.
It will take you directly to Amazon and where you can order your own copy.
Want to get one from me personally?
Come to Flagstaff, Arizona on Sunday, August 26th (2018) to meet both the illustrator, Jocelyne Champagne Shiner, and myself, Sj Hylton LeHoven.
Her original drawings will be on display; I’ll do a reading and then book signing.
Where & When?
That’s to be determined. Stay tuned to this Bat channel for updates. Or, subscribe and you’ll automatically be notified.
In the meantime:
May each day fill you with peace and joy.
Even in the midst of hardship, may you remember
that everything you’re seeking
resides deep inside Yourself.
Peace is found
by being still
and going
inside.
<3
✫Sj ✫
Last night I re-watched the award-winning Italian film “Life is Beautiful.”
This time I didn’t weep uncontrollably.
Yes, it’s still sad, but whatever in me it triggered has moved on.
And this morning while reflecting on that tragic but powerful tale, it came to me:
Life can be like that.
We can choose HOW we focus on experiences.
As a victim.
Or as in a game.
With a playful attitude.
Or not.
The horror is still present,
but the change of focus
allows Grace to arrive.
God’s Grace.
A Grace which gives us a Strength
previously
unimaginable.
Wishing you ALL a Happy Thanksgiving as you too reflect on how Grace
has played a role in YOUR life.
✫ Mahalo Ke Akua ✫
Yes, I just now got it that . . .
I am the most important person in my life.
I am the most important person in my life.
I am the most important person in my life.
I got that for the first time today.
As in REALLY got it.
Down to my core, got it.
To my toes, got it.
In my throat.
Gut.
And fingers that are now typing, got it.
I am the most important person in my life.
Not that old lady who needs help crossing the street.
Or my Mom who has trouble walking now.
Or some other person who’s frantically crying out for help.
No.
It’s me.
Only I
Get to be the most important person in my life.
Wow.
I thought I knew that before.
And maybe I did on some level.
But today, I hopped on the express elevator to the moon.
And from here, it’s incredibly clear.
I’m
the
most
important
person
in
my
life.
As you are in yours.