(Listen to “The Valley” while you’re reading.)
When I drove into the city the other day, I listened (and sang along) to one of my favourite albums ever: KD Lang’s Hymns of the 49th Parallel. The whole album is a beautiful, bittersweet experience. But the song “The Valley” (written by the wonderful Jane Siberry) has always hit me the most. I listened to the album over a few times that day, and one of the times The Valley came on was when I was driving into the parking lot of St. Vital mall. And being there, in the city, surrounded by so many nameless faces, I was struck again with the melancholy of our existence.
We all walk along with so much of ourselves repressed. At any moment there any number of motivations and drives and desires going on inside of us. We are in the present, but carry with us the weight of our past, and the uncertainty of the future. It’s so complicated. And yet when it comes right down to it, we just want to be loved. We want to know that someone can love us — each part of us.
I love the best of you
You love the best of me
Though it is not always easy
The lovely? The lonely?
But it’s hard. Because it means we have to admit who we really are — the ways we’ve been hurt, the things we do that hurt others, the ways we will hurt and be hurt in the future.
When you take the facade away — the face we put on when we’re at the grocery store or at the office — if we really thought about it all, we would all probably be justified in bursting into tears. So many hurts. So much confusion. So much despair. So little connection even within the parts of ourselves.
And though you trust the light towards which you wend your way
Sometimes you feel all that you wanted has been taken away
We will walk in good company…
The shepherd upright and flowing you see…
I like that. And I’ve lived that — being wounded and vulnerable and being loved in the middle of it all. Walking on, not out of it all, but in good company. We are all there, in the valley.
(And, of course, the “good company” with whom I walk the most is Marc. Now, I make a general rule (because he’s my husband) of skimming most of Marc’s posts. But this one that he did tonight was amazing. I guess we’re both talking about life and hurt and hope, but this Marc’s version of it. And it is deep and true. Read his post on Hope.)