My mother made her final transition last night. After I told her, my friend Shiloh said, "When the mother passes, the fabric of the universe is shifted and moves into a new shape." Today begins the first day of that new shape for those of us who can hardly begin to imagine the world without Trish Rankin in it. We are all weary but filled with broken-hearted love and gratitude. Last night, my sister, my mother's two sisters and I held my beloved mother precariously in our adoring arms through the harrowing end. My daughter was on the phone with us when she breathed her last agonizing breath.
The sun was rising over the mountains as I hiked up to the Muir Beach Overlook to center myself and ground into Mother Earth before a full day one-on-one session with one of my Visionary Mentoring Program clients. The ocean was serene, still and waveless, after many stormy days of high winds. The air was silent, pregnant with promise. A few weeks had passed since my mother had been diagnosed with an “incurable” kind of stage 4 cancer, so life had been heavy for some time. Yet something about this morning felt light. A calm quietude fell over the sea.
Someone hurt you and you’re holding a grudge. You feel a well-deserved sense of righteous indignation. You’re in the right. That someone was wrong. You have every right to feel the way you do. Anyone who heard the story would take your side.
Maybe she abandoned you.
Perhaps he betrayed you.
She broke your heart.
He molested you.
She criticized you.
He withdrew love.
She beat you up.
He failed to protect you.
There are countless ways people can hurt us. Not one of us is immune, and it’s only natural that we build walls to protect our broken hearts.
But when we let our hearts get tainted with resentment, we impede the flow of love out of our hearts and poison our inner space, resulting not only in damage to our relationships but also illness in the body.