Rarely
do I follow
the path of least resistance.
Usually
I choose the
road less traveled.
Mostly
I create trails
of my own making.
The journeys
are difficult,
but the view at the end:
Always
takes my breath away.
Rishell Graves
August 30, 2010
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
The Model
This is not the body
Of a young model,
Tight and defined.
You may have to look
Beneath the surface
To find the lines of muscle.
But this is my gift to give-
To stand before you
With no shame.
To share this body
That has been given
A second chance.
I carry the weight of years,
Childbirth, cancer,
Lessons from life.
And the scars you cannot see,
Deep inside,
Continue to heal.
This offering
Is a part of that healing.
So draw me as you see me,
Imperfect,
But whole.
I have been to the edge
And back again,
And I have nothing
Left to hide.
Rishell Graves
August 26, 2010
Of a young model,
Tight and defined.
You may have to look
Beneath the surface
To find the lines of muscle.
But this is my gift to give-
To stand before you
With no shame.
To share this body
That has been given
A second chance.
I carry the weight of years,
Childbirth, cancer,
Lessons from life.
And the scars you cannot see,
Deep inside,
Continue to heal.
This offering
Is a part of that healing.
So draw me as you see me,
Imperfect,
But whole.
I have been to the edge
And back again,
And I have nothing
Left to hide.
Rishell Graves
August 26, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
Clarity
Clarity
It was a time of faith and clarity.
Before the surgery I looked at the hills behind the hospital and thought that maybe this would be the last time I saw them. I felt so peaceful at the thought of dying, but decided I still had too many things to do with my life, so I put faith in the fact that this was just a temporary slow-down.
I had faith in my surgeon, that she would remove all of the cancer from my breast. I wasn’t sure exactly what that would mean, but I trusted her to do the right thing.
When I woke up I saw my daughter and grand-daughter, followed by my mother, so much worry on their faces. I tried to hide the pain I was feeling to spare them more worry. I waited for my husband to show up but he never did.
This is where the clarity began.
I told my surgeon I was surprised at how much pain I was in. She explained that because the cancer was so far back against my chest wall she had needed to remove muscle too, and that’s what was hurting. When she laid her hand on my breast to show me where the cancer had been, all I could think was, “I know that spot. It’s where I hold my pain.”
All of those years, when his words would hurt me, I would feel a tightness in my chest- in that exact spot. And because I was not allowed to say my own words, the pain was kept inside. There it grew, a mixture of swallowed tears, feelings of inadequacy, and words like useless and insignificant. A toxic stew of sorrow that eventually turned into cancer.
But now it was gone. I was free. Everything shifted, became clear.
And with this clarity came a great sense of power. I was strong. I could do this.
Never again would I let my life be controlled by someone else.
When the cancer clinic recommended I start chemotherapy right away, followed by radiation, I said no thank you; I would be looking at other options. They told me I was making a mistake, but I had faith in myself.
My friend Charlie called to tell me about a clinic near Seattle. “The best alternative cancer treatments in the world”, he said. “Their work is why I became a Doctor.”
Clarity again. This was why we had met in the Breitenbush forest six months earlier. So that he could guide me through my cancer treatment.
All of that was two years ago, and I am still cancer-free. I know there is a chance it will return, but life is full of chances. I will deal with whatever happens when it happens.
In the meantime I am living each day as a gift.
I no longer hold on to toxic words. I let them flow through me and then run off.
And I am finding my own voice- one that is strong, but full of love.
Faith, clarity, and always love.
Rishell Graves
April 22, 2010
It was a time of faith and clarity.
Before the surgery I looked at the hills behind the hospital and thought that maybe this would be the last time I saw them. I felt so peaceful at the thought of dying, but decided I still had too many things to do with my life, so I put faith in the fact that this was just a temporary slow-down.
I had faith in my surgeon, that she would remove all of the cancer from my breast. I wasn’t sure exactly what that would mean, but I trusted her to do the right thing.
When I woke up I saw my daughter and grand-daughter, followed by my mother, so much worry on their faces. I tried to hide the pain I was feeling to spare them more worry. I waited for my husband to show up but he never did.
This is where the clarity began.
I told my surgeon I was surprised at how much pain I was in. She explained that because the cancer was so far back against my chest wall she had needed to remove muscle too, and that’s what was hurting. When she laid her hand on my breast to show me where the cancer had been, all I could think was, “I know that spot. It’s where I hold my pain.”
All of those years, when his words would hurt me, I would feel a tightness in my chest- in that exact spot. And because I was not allowed to say my own words, the pain was kept inside. There it grew, a mixture of swallowed tears, feelings of inadequacy, and words like useless and insignificant. A toxic stew of sorrow that eventually turned into cancer.
But now it was gone. I was free. Everything shifted, became clear.
And with this clarity came a great sense of power. I was strong. I could do this.
Never again would I let my life be controlled by someone else.
When the cancer clinic recommended I start chemotherapy right away, followed by radiation, I said no thank you; I would be looking at other options. They told me I was making a mistake, but I had faith in myself.
My friend Charlie called to tell me about a clinic near Seattle. “The best alternative cancer treatments in the world”, he said. “Their work is why I became a Doctor.”
Clarity again. This was why we had met in the Breitenbush forest six months earlier. So that he could guide me through my cancer treatment.
All of that was two years ago, and I am still cancer-free. I know there is a chance it will return, but life is full of chances. I will deal with whatever happens when it happens.
In the meantime I am living each day as a gift.
I no longer hold on to toxic words. I let them flow through me and then run off.
And I am finding my own voice- one that is strong, but full of love.
Faith, clarity, and always love.
Rishell Graves
April 22, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
Teaching an Old Dog New Tricks
Last month I got a new knee,
expecting to become the bionic woman.
But so far I just resemble
an old lady with a cane.
I am like an old dog learning new tricks:
How to walk again,
to live with pain,
patience,
humility.
And I am also learning
that life is precious,
each day a gift,
love is meant to be shared.
So don't be surprised when you see me
hiking up hillsides,
walking along river banks,
dancing in nightclubs
with men half my age.
This old dog has no master,
and I so enjoy
howling at the moon.
Rishell Graves
April 20, 2010
Back to the Imnaha River
Here I am again,
One year later,
on the banks of this river,
listening to her song.
She reaches into my heart
and pulls out the pain
of these past four seasons.
Her laughter
reminds me of my joys-
family, friends, strength and love.
Filled with gratitude,
I find my center
once again.
And as she passes by
I hear these words:
"It's another glorious day
and we have miles to go..."
Rishell Graves
April 19, 2010
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