This week's chapter is called "Flight to the Ford." Frodo has been stabbed by the Black Riders, and though he has survived, the wound seems to have more than physical effects. The wound seems to heal, and still Frodo is very weak and must be borne on one of the company's ponies. Strider, at some point, declares that there must be some curse or poison at work. He says he cannot cure it, and that they must get to Rivendell. The Ford to which the chapter title refers is the Ford of Bruinen, which marks the border of Rivendell.
As the company goes eastward, Frodo's health fluctuates, sometimes lucid, other times hoping for nightfall because the light of day is too much to bear. During one of his upswings, Frodo hears Strider talk at length about Elves and Rivendell. He speaks up:
'Have you often been to Rivendell?' said Frodo.
'I have,' said Strider. I dwelt there once, and still I return when I may.
There my heart is; but it is not my fate to sit in peace.'
But it is not my fate to sit in peace. What does this mean? What does it mean to "sit in peace," anyway?
Building something gives one a great feeling. Having nothing, and then having something. Or having the parts, and then having the whole. These are the things that drive us. The goal to take the world and improve upon it. To make where there was naught.
Alternatively, destruction can also give the same rush. Vandalism and graffiti must give the culprit some level of satisfaction, or else they wouldn't do it. That satisfaction doesn't excuse the crime, but nor does the fact it is a crime negate the positive feelings one felt when engaged in the activities. But destruction can also be positive. Destroying an unjust system, taking apart a machine to see how it works, or even just burning mementos of an old relationship. The world has no need for such things - we're making room for something new.
Creating and destroying are seen as opposites, but they both allow for people to be an agent of change. "The world will be different, for better or worse, because I was here." I will have a lasting effect. I will make a difference.
But you know what doesn't feel good? Something that nobody likes? Maintaining. Maintaining something, without improving or harming it, is difficult. It isn't difficult physically (because maintaining something is at least as difficult as improving it, and sometimes destroying something would take more work, too). It is emotionally difficult. There is no joy from seeing the same thing work over and over again. Eventually, it becomes dull. Not because of the actual thing, but just by virtue of it becoming a routine.
Relationships are the easiest example. Whenever anyone wants to "spice up" or "breathe new life into" their relationship, that is a sign the relationship has become routine. Not bad, but profoundly unsatisfying. Why? Let's say you were single, and you wanted someone to spend the night with. You find that, but then that becomes routine. You want something more - someone to go on dates with. You find that, but then that becomes routine. You want something more - someone to share a life with. You find that, but then that becomes routine. You want something more - to create a new life. Etc etc. At all points, having received what we wanted, we desired more.
Thus is "sitting in peace" revealed to us. When one sits in peace, one enjoys what one has, but without affecting change upon it. How can we enjoy something without needing to change it?
It is not Strider's fate to sit in peace, but nor is it any of ours. Nor would we want to. We read new books, go new places, eat new foods, take new jobs. Culturally, new experiences are always a positive. We understand there is more to the world than what we know. What we know is food, but it can become wholly boring. It is difficult to "sit in peace."
This is why, when 50 Shades of Grey came out, so many outside the kink community were drawn to the book. It was exciting and new. But to those within the kink community, it was a boring and tame version of what they do. That's because, to them, what is shown in the book is routine. But, to someone who's never experienced it before, it was tempting and thrilling.
I recently ran into a friend of mine from high school in the city. She builds AI. I remarked that sounded cool, and that I wished I did something like that. Her boyfriend responded, "But you direct a whole after school program - I don't direct anything!" To me, directing an after-school program has become part of my routine. It isn't exciting. Similarly, to her, building AI is just part of her job. Routine.
It would be easy to draw from this chapter a that we should just appreciate what we have. But I don't think that's useful to say. After all, routine is boring. Routine can make you see an old, good thing, but only notice how old it is. The desire to break from routine can cause us to break the old, good thing, in return for a new and exciting thing. But new and exciting doesn't always mean "good." And once the good thing is broken, it is gone. But simply being told to appreciate what we have suppresses the nature in us that wants to be an agent of change in the world. We can't change our nature.
So how can we direct this emotional need to affect change, even when nothing needs changing?
I'm not sure. I have an answer that sort of work for me, but I won't propose it will automatically work for you, because I'm not even sure it works for me. Almost paradoxically, the way we affect change can, in fact, become routine. We must always be on our guard that, when something becomes unsatisfying, we must take action to change it, lest our nature rise within us and cause us to do something regretful just to break the bonds of routine.
Here's my solution: Set goals. Set small goals. Set goals that are beyond what you've achieved, but are almost definitely achievable. Set goals you have not achieved because you have not tried - not because you have tried and failed. And then do them. The experience of trying something new might brighten your outlook on the world. And, when you return, you might appreciate the routine and structure of your life that you had despised, focusing on how good it is, rather than how old it is.
But do not break your routine in a way that you wreck all the things about it. For example, for the past few weeks I have been fighting a deep desire in me to buy a trailer and live as simply as I can. Such a move on my part would have enormous consequences. I don't want all of those. But that need tells me I'm bored with living comfortably in a nice house. Now, that's one hell of a First World Problem - but it is still a problem. If I don't address it, I may not feel fulfilled as a person. So what do I do?
Every the weekend I do my best to get out of the house and wander the city. Yesterday I walked to the marina. I ate food from places I'd never eaten before. I bought a stranger a cup of coffee. I had a Salvadorean dish called a Pupusa. I happened to run into an old friend from high school. And then, at the end of the day, I came back to my comfortable house, and was more thankful for it.
There is a large hill I can see from the corner of the street I live on. Today, after I post this, I am going to go to find a way to the top.
We all feel bored with life sometimes. It is not our fate to sit in peace. We must seek the new and the exciting. We all want adventure and joy. But that doesn't mean we need to wreck our routine. After all, let's not forget the rest of this week's quote:
"I dwelt there once, and still I return when I may. There my heart is; but it is not my fate to sit in peace."
See your routine, rather than a jail that traps you, as a place that comforts you. Go out of it, get out of your comfort zone, but don't destroy it as you leave. You dwelt there once, and your heart is there. Return to it as you are able. Bring your new experiences into it. But it is not your fate to sit in peace. Peace is like salt, and must be seasoned among the excitement and danger and joy and sorrow of life to be appreciated. Otherwise, peace will be like a mundane prison that grips you, rather than an embracing sanctuary that welcomes you.
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