Every so often, I enter a low, blue space for a few days—a sort of valley of melancholy. It has happened all my life. And even though experience has taught me that I will inevitably reach the other side of it, I still find myself resisting the experience, rather than just letting it pass in its own time.
Two lessons from the most recent valley, with hopes to remember them next time:
1. Valleys can be reflective, immensely creative spaces. They are a space between, without the strenuous work of climbing a mountain, and without the distraction of the vista at the top. There’s space to ruminate, as long as all the thinking isn’t spent on wishing the low time away.
2. If you don’t want to stay in the valley, you can clear it faster by walking or running. All physical activity works wonders. Yesterday’s 22-mile bike ride revealed that this particular valley was only about 24 miles across, and a nap helped close the last of the gap.