The other day, at the gym, I walked past a young, twenty-something African American male, standing with his side resting against a wall and his head hanging down looking at the phone in his hand. He was wearing black shoes, socks, shorts, and a black tshirt with white block lettering on the back. It said “Trying to find the meaning of life in the valley.” I paused for a moment and took in the words. What a bold statement to put on a shirt, I thought, and maybe also a cry for help? I made a mental note to keep this young man in my prayers and resisted the temptation to ask him where I could also buy this shirt. But I haven’t stopped thinking about him.
I know that valleys are referenced throughout the Bible, but I was curious how much. I did a quick Google search of “bible quotes about being in the valley,” and came up with results like “62 Bible verses about mountains and valleys” and “66 Bible verses for when you’re in the valley.” It seems to be a popular topic.
I believe that every human spends time in the valley, at some point in life. It’s part of our human existence. But when we’re at that low point, the truth is that we don’t always recognize it, or admit to it. I was struck by the fact that this young man had the presence of mind to recognize that he is going through a tough time in his life and to try to gain something from it. Finding the meaning of life is no small task. I think that I’ve assumed, all these years, that the feat of grasping the meaning one’s own life is something that’s done outside of the valley, where the real living takes place. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you only find it when you embrace the darkness, and that’s how you finally get out.
I spent so many years of my life in a valley that I thought it was the way of life. I didn’t even recognize that there was a way out, or that life existed on a different level; that’s how deep I was in. It didn’t look like the images of depression we see on commercials for drugs; it was my own self-constructed personal hell that I believed I 100% deserved. As an adolescent, I was raised to accept the idea that suffering is part of life, and it is not something we should run from or try to shirk, but it is our cross to bear. You don’t complain about your suffering; you let it become a part of you. As I am writing this, I can see the constantly pained expression that my mother carried on her face, the visual reflection of her internal pain that she never spoke of. The truth is, I still believe that suffering is an extremely important part of life, but mainly when you inflict it upon yourself for the purpose of self-betterment. You fast and go hungry to get in touch with your soul. You abstain from certain indulgences for the purpose of better health or sleep. You work an extra hour to achieve a goal. You don’t quit when your journey is tough, you push harder, and eventually reap the reward. But suffering should not be the theme of your life. It should have a beginning and an end. It’s the valley, it’s not the plain.
The problem is that I never learned that last part, that suffering should have an end point. And I certainly didn’t understand the difference between suffering for a “season” or for a purpose, rather than suffering as a life-long past-time. I truly believed that I was meant to not enjoy my life more than a little because I was not a good enough human. And no matter what joy I had the opportunity to experience, I let it be shrouded by the weight and darkness of constant internal pain. And what a valley to live in. More than being at a “low” point in life, my valley was about being stuck.
Happiness hit her like a train on a track
Coming towards her, stuck still no turning back
She hid around corners and she hid under beds
She killed it with kisses and from it she fled
With every bubble she sank with a drink
And washed it away down the kitchen sink
– Dog Days Are Over by Florence + the Machine
Believing that you’re incapable of change, or that life is incapable of change, is the worst cross to bear. And it’s counter-intuitive to every facet of our humanity, which makes it even worse. I recently read that our bodies are constantly regenerating. Your skeleton is completely new every 10 years. Your skin cells rejuvenate every 2–4 weeks. Your hair lasts 6–7 years. The cells that line your stomach and intestines ONLY LAST FOR 5 DAYS!
If our physical beings are not only capable of change, but basically can’t survive without it, why would we think that the circumstances of our lives are unchangeable? It’s confounding. I think it roots in our belief of our own capabilities, what we think we can achieve, the change we believe we can effect. Embracing our own power. And just maybe, it roots in what we believe we deserve.
I have many times heard the concept that we create our own realities and our own circumstances. On some level, we have participated in designing and constructing the mechanisms by which our lives operate today. And what we believe we deserve, we get. It’s the explanation of why people will remain at the same socio-economic level their whole lives. If they suddenly start receiving more money or the means to change it, they will spend it or lose it otherwise, because they believe they should exist in the realm where they have been.
Which brings me back to the valley. The valley, to me, is the mental place where you are so beaten down by your own suffering that your mind cannot construct another reality to move you toward. And the longer you resist letting yourself fully embrace the pain of the valley and recognizing it for what it is…a low point in your life that has a beginning and an end, the longer you will stay there, stuck. You can’t sneak out of the valley and you can’t ignore it. Believe me, I’ve tried. And as a result, I wasted many years of my life in it. I couldn’t admit that I was weak enough to even be in the valley in the first place, much less face the fear of real suffering, the kind that you don’t numb with distractions and that you don’t even try to hide from others. Suffering for the reason that you entered the valley in the first place…not just daily depression as a way of life.
