A Proud Peacock

An unfamiliar word in her circle
she didn’t wish for knowledge,
but her circle was not so durable.
For now, she was aware

of the bitter emotions
tailing it like a hungry stray,
the hit to self-esteem
the “did I say something?”
Loneliness puffed up
like a proud peacock.

She held awareness
in the palm of her hand

pained to know such a
two-syllable word.

Lauren Scott (c) 2021

Therapy

The day finishes. I grab
the dog bed and bone

and fill the bowl with
water. Drinks sparkle
in crystal clear glasses.
Dialogue begins over
life, the joys and reasons
for rising stress levels.

Cracks in the concrete
absorb emotions.
On
the patio, no thoughts
are silenced.

Lauren Scott (c) 2021



What’s on your list?

My favorite cake made by my son.

Family will always mean the most to me. But as I ride the waves of life, there are many things, and I use that word broadly, that have been significant throughout the years. These are just a few…

Those camping trips when the kids were young: swimming in sapphire-colored lakes and cooling off in sparkling rivers, listening to the them play in the tent – their imaginations leading the way. Sitting around the campfire: singing, laughing, roasting marshmallows. Not just college, but all graduations were joyful events. The dogs that became special family members. Patio time – the talking, the reading, the wine – the outdoor living. Happy blooms in the garden and the hummingbirds flitting about. Walking among Redwoods and the sound of ocean waves. Pinecrest for our 30th, Bodega Bay getaways, and backpacking into serenity. The most loyal friends. Relaxing motorcycle rides. Winter’s coziness: a crackling fire and glowing candles. Chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven and homemade carrot cake (a veggie in our home). Kissing and hugging. Songs that resonate. Acts of kindness.

Lantana smiles

And the list goes on…
Isn’t it wonderful that the list goes on?

Though we live under gloomy skies at times,
there is always sunshine waiting to peek through…


What would I read on your list?

Lauren ❤️❤️❤️
Carrot cake photos: My son
Lantana: Our garden
Gratitude stone: Google

A Little Appreciation…

“For those who read, there is more than one world.”
Greetings!
Lowlights & layers Covid safe just in time for Halloween –
Beware of Foilhead!
👻
Our first, cozy fire on a cold autumn night
paired with Chardonnay
I pass by this driveway every day on my walk with Copper,
always admiring how inviting its set up is…

I hope you enjoyed these snippets of my appreciation, and know that I appreciate all of you who continue to pop in and read what’s been on my mind. The last couple of weeks have been tough in some ways, but today is a new day. I hope you’re doing well and wish you a wonderful week.

Lauren 💕🍂🍁

4 am Mind Scribbles

I amble through a palette of pastels
while my mind abates the worry
that ransacks spinning thoughts
Life comes full circle

from her to him to me

Wake up, greet the reward of new light
where autumn finally pervades the air
with battleship gray clouds and a chill
to commence a new season

Lauren Scott (c) 2020

Book Review: Magical Whispers by Balroop Singh

My 5-star review:

I have been a fan of Balroop Singh’s poetry for many years now. She has a magical way of weaving words together that mesmerize and inspire, which explains the spot-on title for her new poetry collection, Magical Whispers.

This beautiful edition is divided into two segments: Magical Whispers and Whispers of Life. The first segment effortlessly captivates as we read verses that truly convey Singh’s love and connection to Mother Nature. Since I am an avid hiker and backpacker, I resonate fully with each line and image the author paints with her enchanting poetic style. The poems that stand out for me are Stream Whispers, Celestial Lake, Love is Love, and Whispers of Soul.

The second segment touches on various components of life such as: love, dreams, sorrow, fear, and perseverance. Singh’s character holds a strong conviction that although life may be full of shadows, light always seeps through even if in tiny dewdrops. Her poetry expresses the epitome of strength and hope of which life cannot be lived to the fullest without. My favorites are Remember Me, Betrayers, Sentinels, The Magic of Love, and Sublime Sky. And yet, although I list a few poems that move me, Singh’s collection in its totality transports me into tranquility and reflection. Her book graces my home library so that I can sink into the magic of her verses over and over again. I highly recommend adding this lovely poetry book to your home library, as well.

Her book is available at:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08KJQ6K5D


US
 UK DE FR ES IT NL JP BR CA MX AU IN

Balroop Singh, a former teacher and an educator always had a passion for writing.  She is a poet, a creative non-fiction writer, a relaxed blogger and a doting grandma. She writes about people, emotions and relationships. Her poetry highlights the fact that happiness is not a destination but a chasm to bury agony, anguish, grief, distress and move on! No sea of solitude is so deep that it can drown us. Sometimes aspirations are trampled upon, the boulders of exploitation and discrimination may block your path but those who tread on undeterred are always successful.

When turbulences hit, when shadows of life darken, when they come like unseen robbers, with muffled exterior, when they threaten to shatter your dreams, it is better to break free rather than get sucked by the vortex of emotions.

Balroop Singh has always lived through her heart. She is a great nature lover; she loves to watch birds flying home. The sunsets allure her with their varied hues that they lend to the sky. She can spend endless hours listening to the rustling leaves and the sound of waterfalls. The moonlight streaming through her garden, the flowers, the meadows, the butterflies cast a spell on her. She lives in San Ramon, California.

I encourage you to visit Balroop at her blog: http://balroop2013.wordpress.com/. While there, you can peruse her full collection of poetry books that she has published and find other ways to connect with her. Take a breath and dive into the magic and beauty of her words.

Thanks for stopping by!
Lauren 💕

Lately…

Lately…

the world sings virus lyrics
and lungs struggle to take in
gray air. I can’t help noticing
clouds parked on foreheads.
Looking to the horizon, dusty
cobwebs hang in each corner.
It’s time to dim the lights
out of memories, how life
once was. Fingers itch to
press life’s reset button
.
Answers remain ambiguous.
I want to watch the sun
breathe in and out and

the moon ride the night
as stars dance in the sky –
trying to find my place
in an
ever-changing
landscape.

Lauren Scott (c)

Room 506A

As sudden as an earthquake, I ended up in the emergency room several years ago because of severe abdominal pain. It turned out to be pancreatitis. I didn’t know anything about this condition but later learned it could be life-threatening. Pancreatitis is often caused by excessive alcohol consumption, but since I rarely drink alcohol, this wasn’t possible. The culprit turned out to be a gallstone found in the bile duct and the pain felt like a million knives doing the twist. Since my gallbladder was removed decades ago, gallstones never again entered my mind. Apparently though, if the gallbladder is gone, the gallstones have nowhere else to go.

It was an autumn Friday morning and I had just enjoyed a good cup of coffee with my husband when those knives started dancing. My husband comforted me as I laid down, but he felt helpless unable to take away the pain. After a couple of hours, I knew I wouldn’t be going into work. Maybe stubbornness played a role in my decision to ride it out. I didn’t want to go to the hospital. I wanted to enjoy my morning routine and have a productive day at work. Later I’d celebrate that it was Friday and the weekend was just around the corner.

However, things don’t always work out like we plan. That afternoon, I took in the sight of the emergency room where an IV was started, blood was drawn, and questions asked such as, “Are you allergic to any medications?” and “How would you rate your pain?” In full agony, I barely whispered, “It’s a ten.” The nurse gave me medication through the IV; soon the dancing knives ended their performance, although I wondered why it began in the first place.

While I waited for results, I couldn’t help think about the auto-immune liver disease my daughter was diagnosed with several years back – Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis (PSC). So far, my symptoms were parallel to hers. Could it be that I’ve had PSC all these years? As hard as I resisted, tears welled up. I kept thinking I had passed this horrible disease on to my daughter which made my heart ache. I was letting my darkest thoughts grab the reins and spiral me into a deep emotional funk. I fought back though, sliding these thoughts under the hospital bed. I had to remain calm and continue to breathe deeply, otherwise, I’d turn into a big mess.

If anyone has ever spent the night in a hospital, they’re aware of the constant nightly interruptions. Just when I fell into a soothing sleep, the nurse would come in and cheerily say, “Hi Lauren, time for labs,” or, “Hi Lauren, I need to check your vitals.” I know they’re only doing their jobs, but when I’ve fallen into a wonderful, deep sleep and woken up abruptly, it’s like entering an alternate universe. I’d roll over, hold out my arm with eyes closed while they poked and prodded. Then I’d fall back into my much-needed slumber.

By Sunday, I was raring to go home. The noise had taken its toll; a headache was coming on like a tidal wave from the high-pitched beeping. That deep longing for my own bed would not vanish. I woke up early and walked a few laps around the hospital floor. I had to prove to the doctor I was in good enough shape to be discharged, so I took each step slowly in a forward fashion. I was decked out in my blue hospital gown, tied securely so as not to put on a show. The red, traction hospital socks were the final touch to the classy ensemble. The venture was successful.

When I returned to my room, the nurse came in to share some bad news – that I was slightly jaundiced. This fed my anxiety because I thought jaundice was an end-of-liver-disease symptom. I’m right; it is, but it’s also a common indicator for other causes. Regardless, I was still well enough to go home, but since we still had no answers, I had to endure more tests. The most logical was an Endoscopic Retrograde Cholangio Pancreatography (ERCP). This procedure is risky since I’ve had pancreatitis, but it was the only method that could detect different causes, including cancer. Even though I was hesitant because of the risks, I agreed to the ERCP. On a stormy day in October, I walked through the hospital doors for the 1:00 pm procedure.

One memory that remains vivid from this procedure was the seconds of sedation consciousness. One of the medications slowed down my heart rate which concerned my doctor enough to halt what he was doing. It was during this time that I felt something down my throat, thought I was going to choke, and tried to get my doctor’s attention. In my mind, I tried to lift my hand but it wouldn’t budge. Just when panic was setting in…so did the sedation. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in recovery. I was happy to see my husband, who was relieved the procedure was over, and then my doctor walked in to share the results.

“Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get the camera all the way down, Lauren…your bile duct was heavily scarred…I’m so sorry,” he said.

What? I felt my shoulders drop. The bottom line was to repeat this procedure, but I had to wait until the end of November, a six-week wait. I wasn’t about to tempt fate, so I dealt with the anticipation as best I could. The nameless cause morphed into an elephant in the room. Everywhere I looked, there it was. I had to maneuver around it in order to live life.

The clocks on the hand seemed to move at a slower speed, but the day of the procedure finally arrived. I felt relieved, but as I sat in the cold hospital room, surrounded by machines and medical staff, nervousness overpowered my relief. To calm myself, I said a silent prayer – that the doctors would have steady hands and sharp eyes to bring solid answers, for strength on my part, and for a “third time’s a charm” not to be necessary.

Once again, my thoughts returned to the days of numerous tests my daughter underwent when the doctors remained dumbfounded as they were unable to come up with a diagnosis for her. It took three years for one doctor, who was head of the Gastroenterology department, to finally give it a name. During those years, my husband and I lived in a cloud of disbelief that our daughter could be very sick; everyone has that invincible thought at some time “it won’t happen to us.” And while sitting in the office listening to the doctor speak, I felt time stop on the spot. The world may have kept spinning, but our family’s world became suspended.

When I waited for my diagnosis, was I afraid I could have cancer? Was I scared of having PSC? Sure, but mainly, I wasn’t concerned about myself. I simply didn’t want to be a burden; I wanted to be healthy so when my daughter needs me in the future, I’ll be able to comfort her. That has been my primary wish – that nothing happens to my husband, my son, or to me, so that when her disease progresses and becomes life-threatening, she knows her family is right beside her. Although bile duct gallstones can be serious, this is the primary reason I was grateful that neither cancer or PSC weren’t found.

Because of this painful experience, I’m reminded of just how fragile life is and that no day is guaranteed. I was fully aware before, but this fact became even clearer. It’s so easy to take even the simplest of tasks for granted. I even had moments when I could’ve easily lost sight of optimism and hope if it weren’t for the support circle of family and friends. I admit to still getting annoyed at little things, but my moments of annoyance don’t linger as long. My perspective is changed because I’ve tiptoed on the other side. Moving forward, I am grateful for the blessing of these positive results and hope for many tomorrows ahead.

Lauren Scott (c) 2020

Tiny Nuances

The circle stretches miles long
Hands held, leaving no room
Baring the strength of steel

Some things cannot be forced
Tiny nuances glow in time
The truth, clear as pure water

Emotions flood out
Frenzied with freedom
The agony is extreme

Floatingdown, down
Falling reckless
Into arms open wide

To guide and to calm
Into moving forward

The circle remains as
is

Lauren Scott (c) 2020