Downward Slope and Upward Climb – Need ’em Both for a Beautiful Valley

There will be a time when one will have come such a long way over the high way of God, that the valleys would cease to appear… just the hilltops would appear to us. After we have passed through these valleys which may seem less desirable than the hills, we may look back over the way, and no longer remember the valley experiences, for the distance and the accomplishments make them to blend into the scene… – Myrtle Fillmore, Unpublished Letter, Feb. 14, 1928

Like millions around the world, the highway of life has been a giant rollercoaster of hills and valleys. Some days I would say TOO many valleys. While Myrtle Fillmore points to the fact there are hilltops as well, it can be difficult to remember when you’re in a valley, and that you came off a hilltop and will go back to a hilltop – in order for it to be a true valley.

I think this is one of the most important things to remember – the downward slope and the upward climb – both elements necessary for a valley. Although we prefer the hilltops, and would like to never again visit the valleys, they are a necessary part of our life, AND some of the most beautiful places on earth. They help create our sacred landscape. This doesn’t mean the valleys have to be very deep or dark, or that we even spend long periods of time there. It is important though that we acknowledge them, and perhaps slow down to connect with the scenery of the valley.

This has certainly been the invitation during the pandemic. A forced slowing down of the body, mind and soul – to breathe deeply, look outside the window and engage with the landscape. A few of my valley panoramic views have included loneliness, the frenzy of never-ending to-do lists, physical exhaustion, income scarcity, suicide, soul weariness, helplessness, inability to breathe, and fear of so much uncertainty. Fortunately I don’t experience all of these in every valley. While I don’t want to “live” in the valleys, it’s important to embrace them, to pass through them, not argue with the reality of the view I’m having in any moment. But hold to my faith – that untouched place of grace within no matter how scary – and remember in order for it to be a valley, there’s a hilltop coming!

I have figured out that by going inward and downward I can connect once again to life. The deeper I go into the heart’s darkness or its light, the closer I get to the ultimate mystery of God, and therefore the ultimate mystery of humanity. Never before in human history have we been confronted with embodying the understanding of the interconnectedness of all life, AND forced to look at our beliefs, biases and blocks to REALLY living the principle of interconnectedness.

For eons, for most, it has been a cognitive understanding, which is a good thing – have to start with some measure of understanding. Now we are being asked, forced, invited, and shoved into embodying it, recognizing the deep connections. Doing this allows me to emerge on another hilltop living more fully from my wholeness, living more compassionately, more lovingly and more joyfully.

Living through a pandemic is not the kind of spiritual journey I ever imagined I would be on, and I dare say the same is true for others. It seems more like traveling Dante’s inner circles, meeting all the monsters in each circle as I descend. Yet I emerge on hilltops as a result of my own insights into what is true and possible and life-giving. I began to know myself as part of this world again, and take action on the belief of interconnectedness in new and meaningful ways. This makes us wonderful traveling companions for others in their valleys.

I can never forget that I am an act of imagination. Navigating this landscape, welcoming the beauty of valleys and celebrating the hilltops, in an effort to make the world whole, at least my corner of it, and in return, the world has begun to make each of us its own again.