I moved to New York City at the age of 21. I had watched enough Sex and the City that I knew how incredible this place was. At the time, I saw myself as a total Carrie - the star of my own show with many pairs of extremely uncomfortable but very cute shoes. Only, I was in an 8x8 room in a 350 sq. ft. apartment with 2 other roommates. The truth is, I've always been more of a Miranda – and especially at that time when I first moved to New York. I was a Type A careerist setting out to make the world a better place. 

I dabbled briefly in an hourly fundraising job working from home before I quit/fired myself and started nannying. The nannying job was truly awful - in fact I considered writing a novel about it but frustratingly, The Nanny Diaries had already come out in theaters so the experience lacked the originality that I so desired. I have a strong memory from that time, between moments of my co-nanny scolding me for “Swiftering” (yes with a “t”) the floor wrong and berating me for my broccoli cooking methods, when I caught my reflection in a mirror. My dirty, baggy tee shirt reminding me that I was not only unable to get an unpaid internship with a non-profit, but also that my college degree might not mean anything in this economy. I was miserable and reliant on the $600 in cash at the end of the week. I reminded myself that many people don’t get to do their dream job - that perhaps I was an artist and this 40-hours-a-week job merely paid the bills. 

That autumn was my first Valley and I’ve sat in many Valleys since. Nitika Raj, a fellow Transformational Coach offered the metaphor of The Valley more recently when I shared that I was in this place. Previously, I had thought about and described “in-between spaces” but The Valley resonated in a deep way. Here’s what it looks and feels like for me:

I sleep 8 hours and I’m still tired when I wake up. My energy starts low and drains easily. Yet, there’s a quiet buzzing within me, like the feeling when a word is on the tip of my tongue but I can’t quite remember it and Googling it won’t help. I am very eager to leave this place and have answers, hungry to know my path ahead clearly. I don’t get that clarity though - usually for 2-3 months and sometimes longer. I always try to fight my way out by pretending I’m not in The Valley. I tell myself I’m a mountain person! I live on mountains tops!! The truth is, nobody is perpetually on top of the mountain and sitting in The Valley is just as - if not even more valuable - than the climb or the mountain top. 

Rather than sitting in the in-between, Nitika offered that this space is not the absence of all, but the space in which we are collecting seeds. These seeds may be people that can help us learn something new about ourselves or go on to co-create things together. The seeds can be learning in programs or reading or about ourselves in therapy or coaching, quiet introspection, experiences, or trusting intuition. They can be flickers of curiosity about topics that may be brand new to us or worlds we once loved. And we don’t have to plant all the seeds. This is a space of allowing ourselves to empty out and simply notice the seeds.

Only then, with a pile of seeds tucked in our pockets, can we practice discernment, and select with intuition which seeds we plant and which path we choose to follow or carve up the mountain. 

I was most recently in the valley in August of 2019 when I first wrote this reflection. Today, many of the seeds I collected during that time have blossomed and grown. Now "Collecting Seeds" is the title of my blog and newsletter. But I know, without a doubt, I will return to that valley again. You may be there now or you may be on the mountaintop, but we are all guaranteed to return to The Valley. And when we arrive there, please know that we are not alone. 

The friend mentioned in this piece, Nitika Raj, is the founder and principal of Moksh Consulting, manifesting a longtime dream after working in movements for racial and economic justice and peace for 15 years. She is an intuitive and powerful coach and clearly, incredibly skilled with metaphors.