‘The valley is lovely,
but it has no value without the mountain.
First climb the mountain,
conquer its summit,
and when you are back in the valley
all will be different for you.
(Chamalú)

The valley is daily life, and the mountain is contemplation. The valley is beautiful in its ploughed fields, its rows of trees, its brooks and its fountains, its paths and byways, its villages and its flocks. But to see its beauty it has to be viewed from the summit. One has to climb the mountain, gain height, acquire perspective, command the view. When taking a bird’s-eye view of the whole landscape from the vantage point over all horizons, we feel the eerie charm of the aerial sight: we put together the fragments of life in their nature context; we take notice of the paths and their directions, we understand the valley. Now we can go down and enjoy each corner, because we know its position and grasp its environment. We take in the valley because we have climbed the summit.

In fact the valley would not be a valley without the summit. If those two mountain ranges were not there one at either side, there would be no valley. We would have only a flat, level tableland without variety and without depth. The valley, in order to be a valley, needs the mountain for contrast, for background, for meaning, for personality. The valley is a valley because there is a mountain. Earth is earth because there is a heaven. Life is life because there is God. That is why in order to understand life we have to reach God.

Every time I have lived in a valley with a peak over the horizon, I have felt uneasy until I have summed up courage, made up my mind ad climbed the summit. I think of Bembodi Peak in Kodaikanal, Perumal in Shembaganur, Gurushikar in Abu, Itzarraiz in Loyola. I had to climb them at my earliest in order to establish friendship, knit horizons together, encompass the vision. Once I had the view, I could go back in peace to the valley and live contentedly the life of the plains. Now it made sense, because I had seen it from above.

The valley is different after I climb the summit. The valley has not changed, but I have changed. How small from the top the shape of that stone on which I stumbled one day! How clear that curve on the way that I once missed because I could not see beyond my nose! How straight the course of the river through all those twists and turns that deceive the unwary wanderer in the closeness of its crazy ways! How well mapped the village, how serpentine its streets, how pretty my home! Everything finds new value from the heights; because everything fits in; everything stands out; everything together makes up the complete whole. The view from the summit is the secret of meaningful life in the valley.