Frodo:  I wish the ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.

Gandalf: So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All you need to decide is what to do with the time that is given to you.

G-man and the Frodo-nator

This conversation has always moved me. It’s sad yet hopeful. It’s troubling yet powerful. These lines of dialogue come from the film The Fellowship of the Ring. Seeing as how the new Hobbit film is hitting theaters in less than ten days (even though it’s about five years too late, if you ask me), it got me to thinking about this conversation between a Halfling and a wizard, and the gravity of what it means.

In the story, Frodo agrees to take the ring—this supernatural creation that plays on peoples’ weaknesses and vices and manipulates them—to Mordor to destroy it. With this comes the question of survival. Will he live to see this mission carried out? Will those in his fellowship live? Will Middle Earth survive? These are big questions, and it’s almost silly that the fate of human, hobbit, elf, dwarf, and talking tree seems to hang in the balance of one choice. Can he and will he follow through and destroy the dark ring? But beyond that, what will become of him along the way? Will the ring change him, others? Will it turn him into something else, manipulate him, hurt him? The answer to all of these is yes, and no.

In some ways, Frodo is changed. He has moments where his judgment lapses, moments of weakness, where he gives in to the darkness, only to have the darkness pursue him even harder, and with it comes pain, fear, and eventual death to some. All for such a little thing. All for one little thing.

Life is like this. Situations and trials play with us, mess with our heads, try to turn us into something else, and we have a choice. What are we gonna do when it gets impossible to press on? Which path will we take when the pressure intensifies? Will we stay among the fellowship or be divided? These questions can easily be attached to romantic relationships, familial ones, work, faith, whatever.  The purpose of good writing, good films/novels, etc. is to show us something about ourselves, teach us something or make us question our path. If it’s not doing any of those things, what’s the point? I’m not saying LOTR is the most amazing novel series of all time, because there are parts of it that are dry as heck, but there are some intense philosophical conversations Tolkien’s inviting us to discuss.

Personally, I’ve thought about quitting on my journey as a writer so many times, but there’s something else that speaks louder. Also, there have been moments, days, weeks, when I’ve prayed to go back in time, to give up my talent with the pen (or laptop?) in exchange for an intact family. But while I anxiously await a working time machine, I ponder. I wonder. I press on. You see, you can’t go back. You can’t make a lover stay. People aren’t characters in real life, and no matter how good I am at playing God in a novel’s framework, I’m not God in the real world. It is not within my power to make it rain or to wash away the effects of a killer hurricane, and I can’t piece a family back together. The pain remains. The questions and doubts and fears remain.

L is for Legolas!

But while I’m in the cave, and creatures lurk about every corner, there is a light. Like Frodo, I realize I am not alone in this journey. I realize that with me there glows a sword, alerting me to danger, and giving me reason to hold fast to courage. There are wise men in my company and warriors, and yes, the occasional questionable metro elf to endure the quest. From broken fragments, a mirror can be made. There will be cracks, evidences of frailty, but when hung, it will show the truth. It will show the scars. But those scars will also surround the beauty, and in that beauty is life itself.

I find myself too often making the wrong choice, saying the wrong thing. I wear the ring when I know it will destroy me. Do you? I think we all do. And in my frustration I question the road I’ve taken as a result of the pain I’ve endured. “I wish the ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.” But in that dark moment, in that time of questioning and doubt and fear, a still voice sweeps in. “So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for us to decide. All you need to decide is what to do with the time that is given to you.”

stand firm. spread the fire!

-evega

twitter: @estevanvega

facebook: we are arson