We often talk about highs and lows. Sure, we’d prefer things to always be going up and to the right, always on the upswing, always positive. But most of us have lived enough to know that’s not realistic. It’s not even how fairy tales go.
So we adopt a mountain-and-valleys view of life. There are ups and downs. Good times and bad. We even talk about it in most of our wedding vows: “for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health” on and on until death.
There’s a problem with this outlook, though. If you’re hiking a mountain, you can only be in one spot at any given time. You can be at the highest peak, the lowest valley, or at any point in between. But you can only be where your feet are. You can’t be anywhere else.
But this isn’t how our world operates. Some of life’s toughest moments can also be some of its most precious. And just because you’re reeling in one area doesn’t mean you can’t be killing it in others. Work can suck but home be great. Things can be tough for a friend while other things are finally coming together. You can feel happy and healthy and still be struggling.
There are times when things are better, and times when they are worse. You’ll be a little richer in some areas and a little poorer in others. There’ll be sickness, and there’ll be health. Life is made up of a billion little highs and lows. And sometimes they come at you all at once.
I guess the point is that life usually isn’t all bad. And it’s rarely all good, either. We just tend to focus on one and ignore the other.
Some of us miss out on the highs because we’re too focused on the lows. Others avoid anything negative at all costs, never properly dealing with the lows and only focusing on the highs.
Maybe life isn’t like hiking one mountain at a time after all. Maybe it’s more like stopping to take in the whole view from wherever your feet happen to be. Seeing the peaks and valleys, the bright stretches and the darker ones. Taking in the things that are going well and seeing the things that feel like they are falling apart. All in the same view.
And maybe that’s the whole secret to living life well: learning to appreciate the entire landscape.