November

It never feels like November. It always feels like June or July. Yet I always am reminded its here. It creeps in through the sun and the palms and my subconscious knows. Try as I might to fight the effect it has on me. The memories of fall and winter growing up are so faded but still so strong. What the cold nights felt like and the warmth of the fireplace and my moms hands. The tree lit up and the house perfectly calm and tormented all at once.
November creeps in and reminds me of what I miss. Where my heart belongs and the memories that were left in that house. Our house. The nails poking up out of the floor boards and that one spot I cut my foot. The floors that my feet grew up on, now covered with new memory deprived faux wood. The walls we measured ourselves on and searched for ghosts through painted over. The walls we pressed our ears to,
hoping to make sense of the arguments, are sanded down. The basement stairs that led the bold kid to ice-cream in the deep freezer, that my sister and I laughed and fought on, and that my first love was led down are now torn and demolished. That old roof that needed fixing dripped rain melodically, lulling me to sleep. The ant hill, the bees nest, the front door the "crazy" kicked in. Moms bed where she rubbed our hair off our foreheads. Moms bed, the safe spot. The living room I learned my dad was in intensive care, and that same living room I learned he was moving out.
The first place I brought my newborn baby to from the hospital. Even though I owned a place of my own.
November.
Thank you for bringing my memories to me.
Thank you for reminding me just how beautiful and crazy life is.

Rain

I can barely remember what it felt like; lying in bed my toes buried under the still cold covers, rubbing my feet together to generate warmth. My newly constructed room in the ground level basement of the house I grew up in, barely lit by the moon shining through the half window in the corner. Still, tonight in my room in warm California I turn on my sound machine to rain hoping to feel that comfort. I try to remind myself of the lonely nights in that house. Listening to the familiar sound of the rain hitting the drainpipe and the soaked puddled grass. The sound of it drenching the rocky alleyway beside my window and the light from the very occasional car headlights flooding my room as it and its driver crunched home. I felt so alone. My thoughts steam rolling through my head. Doubts, questions fears and insecurities rolling through my teenage mind. Yet somehow, the pitter patter of that rain grounded me. It was my security blanket and my mother. The only thing that would certainly be there and undoubtedly come again. It never let me down and it never stayed away for long. It cleansed me when I walked home from a night I would happily forget, hide my tears and soothed my soul. It filled my shoes and my heart. I miss it. I miss the things it inspired. Living in a weather deprived city seems to show in the heart of the city itself.
One day, hopefully soon, the gift of rain is the gift I want to give my children. I want them to appreciate it, feel comforted by it, safe and blanketed by it. Rain boots by the door and umbrellas always near. I want them to run in the rain, love in the rain, cry in the rain and fall asleep to the rain. I wish for them puddles to splash in, and the windshield wipers to lull them to sleep as I drive them safely home. Until then, I will listen to my slightly off, tinny rain sound and remember as much as I can. I will dream of my nights as a child and one day, I will give my children the gift of rain.

Lost and found

I just found this little drawing I did of my daughter a couple of years ago. Thought I would share to add some art to this here blog ;)

Life

I just want to say that I've seen so much sadness and death and loss in the past year that it's numbing. I've seen good people who are so near and dear to my heart lose a child (twice), and survive. I don't know how you can go on living life after such a horrible nightmare, yet they have and they live and they smile. They feel pain but believe there may be light again.

Along with the death I've seen an astounding amount of life. I've seen many babies being born and new life beginning. The death has made the life so much more amazing and even more of a miracle than I ever had realized before. It reminds me that every single moment every little breath each and every one of us takes is sacred and counted and important. It's worth something; whatever that may be.

So if you can't pay your bills, if you are lonely or feel no love just hold on. You are not alone and right now,while you feel the solitude in your darkness, someone else is in their darkness feeling the same way. Do whatever it takes every single day to push through and find happiness. Even if its in one small thing. Go watch a child laugh and play, go sit on a swing and see how high you can go. Let the weather wake you up and hit you in the face. Do something to feel alive, and then remember how lucky you are to be. Someone else would love to be as alive as you and as able as you and as lucky as you.

Whatever battle you're fighting, keep fighting it. Step into the light and breath and fight. You can do it, I know you can. You'll be amazed at what the future has in store for you.

Love, Chelsea

Eat right

Wow two posts in one day, I'm really on a role haha.
Okay I just wanted to quickly post this cause I saw it and thought it was something we should all know. It kinda goes along with my last post because it's about eating healthy and doing things now to prevent cancer, etc later. And I'm sure you will look better on the outside too (for those of you who may be more concerned with that).

Anyway check it out:)

http://healthfreedoms.org/2011/12/06/7-foods-you-should-never-eat/

Till next time...
Xo Chels

Wanna know your thoughts...

....on this article. I, for one, am naturally very thin and was actually teased about it as a child. After having my children I filled out and carry any weight I gain in my butt! I'm proud of it and the day I grew hips and filled out was a happy day for me. If I don't work out or eat right I don't feel good about myself, if I do then I focus less on what size I am and feel good because I'm healthy. I would rather be healthy on the inside and be a bigger jean size than be scary skinny because I'm not eating right or working out. Being skinny and flabby doesn't feel good to me. Being fuller and maybe more muscular and toned makes me feel great. So I think we should focus less on size and more on what you are doing to make you the size you are. Be your natural you, your healthy you and whatever size that is, so be it! You will probably feel amazing if you know you are doing what you can to take care of your might body and soul!

Now here's that article that sparked this:

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2085226/PLUS-Model-Magazines-Katya-Zharkova-cover-highlights-body-image-fashion-industry.html