This week is our first double portion, and so we are reading
two chapters this week: "Three's Company" and "Shortcut to
Mushrooms." They both follow Sam and Frodo as they leave Hobbiton
and head toward Buckland (two neighborhoods in the Shire). They are joined
by Peregrin Took (Pippin), who is Frodo's younger cousin.
The journey to Buckland is just a front. Frodo (with Sam) intends to leave the Shire as he has been instructed to by Gandalf. Pippin is unaware of this, and unaware entirely of The Ring. However, Buckland is on the border of the Shire, whereas Hobbiton is more in the middle. So it makes for a good cover story for Frodo and Sam to leave Hobbiton without attracting too much attention. Very few hobbits even think of leaving the shire.
On the way, they encounter mysterious Black Riders. They wail loudly, ride dark horses, never reveal their face below their cloak, and sniff the ground for tracks. Frodo and company quickly piece together that these are servants of the Enemy. To avoid them, Frodo and company trek through the woods instead of the main road.
But it isn't all bad news. They also find some Elves, who give them food and a safe place to sleep, though the advice is questionable. Eventually, by the end of the second chapter, they have arrived in Buckland.
The journey takes about four days, stopping occasionally to eat and to sleep. Towards the end of the second day, after eating supper, as the sun is setting, "[Frodo] picked up his stick again. 'Well, we all like walking in the dark,' he said, 'So let's put some miles behind us before bed.'
What does Frodo mean, they all like walking in the dark? Keep in mind they are walking through a forest - there are no lights except the stars and moon. This isn't a quick jaunt through familiar territory. They are being pursued by the Enemy. And even under safer conditions, what is there to like about walking in the dark?
I don't ask this question as a pure hypothetical. A week ago I decided to go on a walk through a path in the woods. I had never been there before and was excited to explore a new place. But I got there much later than I intended. After about 30 minutes, the realities of sundown were becoming hard to deny. I didn't want to explore this place by the light of my phone's flashlight. I wanted to walk through the woods during the day and see and enjoy them. So I turned back - and as I got back towards the entrance, darkness was already apparent. I had to strain my eyes to see, and by the time I reached my car it was undeniably nighttime. The dark did not enhance the experience for me. So, again, what is there to like about walking in the dark?
When we walk, we primarily use our eyes. We have five
senses, but we mostly just use one. Is this route safe? Is there a
sudden incline or descent? Is the street safe to cross? Is the path
narrowing? Is there water or mud or a fence or a fire? We may hear
a car or smell a campfire or feel the ground shifting beneath our feet, but
when that happens, what do we do? We look to confirm. Our ears or
noses or feet need to be verified. But our eyes? Well, seeing is
believing.
If we see a car but don't hear it, or see a fire but don't smell it, we find it a little weird, but we don't dismiss what our eyes are seeing. It can be hard to dismiss something we saw. "But I saw it with my own two eyes!" This is why most magic tricks are visual in nature. An auditory 'trick' is too easily shaken off. Visual tricks are harder to explain.
And yet, our eyes are only useful if we are facing a certain direction. Our noses and ears can smell and hear in all directions. We will feel something touch our skin even if we aren't expecting anything to touch us. That's why being a pickpocket is a skill, and not just a matter of reaching into someone's pockets when they aren't paying attention.
Walking in the dark challenges us. Walking in the dark requires us to lean greatly on other senses. When we hear something, we won't be able to confirm it with our eyes. When we feel the ground shift beneath our feet, we can't just look down to assess. We'll have to slow down. But if we do, we will notice something remarkable. The rest of our senses wake up. We will hear more, our feet will feel more. Because we can't rely on our eyes, everything else becomes enhanced. And we will find we are as capable as we were when we depended so much on sight.
Returning to our text, I believe part of why Frodo says they all like walking in the dark has to do with hobbit anatomy. They have hairy, tough feet, and they walk barefoot. Their feet help them feel the ground with incredible detail. We usually walk in shoes and so our sensitivity is dulled. But hobbits can sense a great deal of information through their feet. They like walking in the dark because they are able to. Despite having eyes like other beings on Middle Earth, hobbits delight in what makes them special.
When I arrived at those woods, I knew it was later than I had hoped. I knew it would get dark soon. But I still went. Why? Because even though I have my eyes, I also have a strong sense of direction. It is difficult for me to get lost. I knew, even if I stayed out longer than I intended, I'd be able to find my way back. And, to be honest, I like that I have that capacity.
There are other ways, too, it may seem to others we walk in the dark, but in fact we get particular pleasure precisely because we know we can surmount the challenge. Some people are particularly good at getting tasks done right before the deadline, whereas for others that prospect is too difficult. Some people prefer to drive without a GPS, claiming the turn-by-turn directions takes the joy out of driving. None of us have hobbit feet, but we all have some kind of talent or preference that turns a normally difficult situation into an enjoyable challenge. We all like walking in the dark - though exactly what darkness we relish in differs from person to person.
A final thought: Diversity is a bit of a buzzword nowadays. In some ways, it is a political issue. As an educator and youth worker, diversity is in my face whether I want it or not. All children are different. I have had similar students over the course of years of my work, but none who were identical, and rarely similar students in the same class. Classrooms are essentially jungles of competing and conflicting personalities. That's one of the things that make being a teacher such a difficult job.
However, this diversity has benefits. For one thing, everyone brings their own views to the classroom content. This means everyone has something unique to say about the content. When all these ideas are brought to the fore, conversations are richer, as students mix and match (and reject) what they hear and integrate it (or not) into their own thinking. I'll take the article I linked a step further: Diversity, for it's own sake, is beneficial because diversity, on it's own, has value. We want the best ideas, and hearing more ideas makes it more likely we will find the best ones.
Connecting diversity to the original point, everyone relishes different darkness. Some people excel where others fail. The more diverse our groups are, the more likely we will be able to succeed whatever darkness we encounter.
Identify your skills. Identify the darkness it illuminates. Take joy in succeeding where others falter. But then, find those groups that are failing, find those people who are struggling where you excel, and join them. If we all walk together in the dark, the darkness will become something we not only fear less but something we enjoy more.
The Lord of the Rings: An Ethical Guide is a Patreon-supported project. Thank you to all those who have contributed.
Like this project? Want to learn more? Want exclusive access to behind-the-scenes content? Go to my Patreon site and see how you can become a part of the action!
No comments:
Post a Comment