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
And it feels good. ;-)
Does she reply? you ask.
No, but it just feels good somehow to send it, to let her know how I’m doing, what’s going on.
Unconditional love is an amazing thing—no matter how it appears.
Mahalo ke Larry Thécat
of our life, the Universe has our back.
Every moment
of
our
life,
the Universe
has our back.
EVERY moment
of our life,
the Universe
has our back.
Every moment . . .
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
And . . . in the eleventh hour I received the most AMAZING review from an acquaintance.
I met this “true reader’s heart” (how she described herself : ) years ago when I was the waterfront director at a camp for diabetic children, * TCDC. She was a camper. I haven’t seen her since (many, MANY moons!), though I have a wispy memory of her wide, vibrant smile!
Here is what she wrote:
“There have been several great stories told from the perspective of animals that gently urge us to take a look at ourselves. (Charlotte’s Web, Animal Farm, and Watership Down come to mind.)
Now, we have “My Life as a Mule.”
This book, told from the perspective of Molly, leads us to confront our own thoughts regarding class conflict, race relations, anxiety, bullying, self-doubt, and fear. Are our perspectives our own? Or are they the ones forced upon us by those around us that became comfortable because we’ve stopped challenging our values?
Molly is a delight as she moves through the challenges of her life and matures as her understanding grows.
Thank you, Ms. LeHoven, for daring us to look at our belief systems in such a non-threatening manner. It is a book you will love reading over and over again, but also one that you will share with loved ones and strangers, alike.
Open your mind and your heart. Molly is waiting.”
Wow, thank you Ms. Marquis for taking the time to find me on facebook, buy my book, AND . . . read it! May Molly be a lifelong companion as you continue on your way. <3
With MUCH love and GRATITUDE for you ALL,
xoxox Sj xoxox
* I’m in that black and white photo from 1981 shown on the TCDC Alumni page. ;-)
How can you help?
By voting for My Life as a Mule (one vote per person). AND even more importantly, by participating in the conversation regarding Molly’s story.
Click on the icon on the right of the box for My Life as a Mule to vote and click on the conversation bubble to leave a comment or ask a question.
Last week’s winner garnered 4,448 votes. We’ll be jazzed to receive 100! But . . . if you can participate in the conversation and let people know how Molly’s story touched YOUR HEART, we would be most appreciative. <3
Molly’s Epiphany Tea
With love and aloha from Molly and me,
xoxox Sj xoxox
P.S. And . . . if you want to share this with your friends, well, that would take the cake!!!
Mahalo nui loa!
I have never met Rumi.
He died a long time ago.
I don’t even know if people took steroids then.
But . . . I just read a poem of his that is much longer than the short sayings that are often posted in social media. And I thought, “Wow! Rumi on steroids! Go Rumi go!”
And then I realized, “Wow! This relates to a conversation I just had yesterday with neighbors. And to a discussion at one of the Trust Train Bookclubs I attended.”
Rumi lived in 1207 to 1273, y’all. And yet what he wrote so long ago is still relevant today.
Thank you Rumi for being You.
Thank you for taking the time to write down what came to you.
And thank you to all of YOU who are taking the time to read this now.
Be with this.
Blessings to YOU as you live your day as the SHINING STAR that you are. <3
**The Shepherd’s Prayer
Moses saw a shepherd on the way, crying, “O Lord Who choosest as Thou wilt,
Where art Thou, that I may serve Thee and sew Thy shoon and comb Thy hair?
That I may wash Thy clothes and kill Thy lice and bring milk to Thee, O Worshipful One!
That I may kiss Thy little hand and rub Thy little feet and sweep Thy little room at bed-time.”
On hearing these foolish words, Moses said, “Man, to whom are you speaking?
What babble! What blasphemy and raving! Stuff some cotton into your mouth!Truly the friendship of a fool is enmity: the High God is not in want of suchlike service.”
The Shepherd rent his garment, heaved a sigh, and took his way to the wilderness.
Then came to Moses a revelation: “Thou has parted My servant from Me.
Wert thou sent as a prophet to unite, or wert thou sent to sever?
I have bestowed on every one a particular mode of worship,
I have given every one a peculiar form of expression.
The idiom of Hindustan is excellent for Hindus; the idiom of Sind is excellent for people of Sind.
“I look not at tongue and speech, I look at the spirit and the inward feeling.
I look into the heart to see whether it be lowly, though the words uttered be not lowly.
Enough of phrases and conceits and metaphors! I want burning, burning: become familiar with that burning!
Light up a fire of love in thy soul, burn all thought and expression away!
O Moses, they that know the conventions are of one sort, they whose souls burn are of another.”
The religion of love is apart from all religions. The lovers of God have no religion but God alone.
May we ALL Light up a FIRE of LOVE in OUR SOUL and burn, burn, burn. <3
* In case you’ve never heard of Rumi, CLICK HERE to go to his Wikipedia page.
** I read this poem in a cool book I found at the Friends of the Lihue Library’s June book sale called The Mystic in Love: a treasury of world mystical poetry edited by Shelley Gross. © 1966.
The Good.
The Bad.
And the Ugly.
And as we become more and more aware that We Are All One, we can meet each and every experience with Love.
Really, Sj????
Yes, really.
But so many people are acting so hatefully these days.
Love them anyway.
Even as you love yourself.
Why? Surely they don’t deserve it.
EVERYONE deserves to be loved. Everyone.
Especially those who are behaving so unkindly.
What the…???
Think about it.
If someone is behaving so unkindly, do you think they love themselves?
Treat themselves with kindness?
Most probably not.
And acting out as they are, they are actually demonstrating OUR shared fears. Of the unknown. Of change.
Even if they don’t realize it.
So when you meet that seemingly random person on the street, on the internet, or even in the press, please know that BOTH of your Souls have organized that “chance” meeting. For the smile you share, the LOVE you embody, may be the ONLY act of kindness that person experiences on that day.
xoxox Sj out xoxox
(But PLEASE Please please remove yourself from ANY situation that makes you feel uncomfortable. You can love that person–or thing OR experience–from a safe distance. ;-)
Pedrata with Smiley Face Tree
Sometimes silent and hiding in the shadows.
Sometimes whispering at my ear.
And sometimes—JUMPING UP and DOWN right in front of my NOSE!
Whether I’m paying attention or not, she’s there.
Intuition. Our ever-present friend and guide.
xoxox Sj xoxox
That Molly’s story speaks to you so . . . warms the cockles of my heart. <3
Godspeed on YOUR journey, Green Pueo!
May you SPREAD YOUR WINGS WIDE and SOAR to HEIGHTS BEYOND YOUR WILDEST DREAMS!
✫Sj✫
* A Pueo is “a subspecies of the short-eared owl that is endemic to Hawaii.
5 star review by Green Pueo on Amazon
“This book came to me when I needed it most. It is a romp through Molly’s pastures as she travels along the road to self-discovery. It is less than a novel and more of a journey, a pilgrimage diary whereby a donkey attempts to determine how he feels about issues of personal priority. Rather than following the opinions of a delightful set of brilliantly written animal characters, Molly listens to echoes of her own inner ear signaling to the reader that we each have that power as well unless we choose to surrender it.
This is a world where animals can speak and make us feel that we have entered a safe space where their actions and decisions impact us in new and surprising ways. We read books to escape our fears and the darkness of everyday life, and this book is a positive way to discover that we each have an inner message we are obligated to share with others.
Not sure if this book is autobiographical, but Molly doesn’t surrender to peer pressure or the ordinary life.
The story is a timeless refreshing breath of simplicity and creativity. I enjoyed the short chapters and fun illustrations.
The imagery the author creates reads like an old mythic tale. The playful dialogue told with simple descriptive prose helped me to picture Molly’s world as being hand drawn. Like the step-by-step lines of the pencil, the “Aha” moment comes only after watching a foundation of underlay develop on the author’s canvas. Molly becomes a representation of the enlightenment available to anyone, at any moment.
Molly speaks for us all, lets us know we are each on a different path and when she speaks, it doesn’t sound exactly like a donkey or a horse. Instead, a mule makes a sound that is similar to a donkey’s but also has the characteristics of a horse, starting with a whinny, and ending with a hee-haw! Therefore at the moment of refusal, disappointment, or when we are faced with self-evaluation, one is capable of ‘waking up’ as an individual and seeing the interconnectedness of everything. Molly not only “whinnys” with lightheartedness but also punctuates her message with Hee Haws in the short chapters of this book. Readers of all ages will most likely discover within ‘My Life as a Mule’ that her voice resonates in much deeper ways.”
MAHALO for sharing Molly’s story with friends!
xoxox Sj xoxox
My Life as a Mule is available through Amazon.
Molly’s Epiphany Tea