I’ve been in a funk lately.
When I rise for the morning and when I return for the night, it’s dark in the corners of the only 620 square feet I’ve ever owned.
But, it’s also dark in my heart.
Did you hear about the exterminator who paid a visit to the young female doctor in Philadelphia? Remember how I posted this article twice within a year? Did I tell you how I still have nightmares?
I live in a secured four-story building in a nice neighborhood, but sometimes I’m scared to live alone. Trust me, people laugh when I tell them this. Yet, I’m reminded that the places where I used to run for comfort were lately, at least once, manipulated by the hands of evil.
I recently moved my mace can into my bedroom because heaven-forbid if someone broke into my apartment, its normal placement near the kitchen would be too far. I worry about those who attend and work at educational institutions. I slightly hesitate as I step inside a movie theater. How can these places return to good when so much bad has happened?
As I spent this past weekend holed up in my 620 square feet with the blinds closed, a blanket tucked tight and the comfort of my television screen, a familiar movie tantalized me with its images. Some of you may know it by its trilogy name: The Lord of the Rings. Yes, it’s just a bit embarrassing that I admitted to watching those movies.
As the characters saw their cities being destroyed by the hands of evil, they began to doubt and question why they were on the mission to save their homeland when everything was going wrong. I was particularly touched by this passage:
“Frodo: I can’t do this, Sam.
Sam: I know. It’s all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are. It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.
Frodo: What are we holding onto, Sam?
Sam: That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo… and it’s worth fighting for.”
I too have my hesitations; sometimes I feel like “I can’t do this” — live alone, feel safe, truly enjoy life without being scared of what darkness lies ahead. It’s tempting to fall into the pit – to give up hope – but I must remind myself of the good. Of the laughing children outside my closed blinds. Of the sun shining rays on my street. Of the amazing people in my life that I’m fortunate to surround.
The good is definitely worth fighting for.
So, I’m now comparing my life to a Lord of the Rings movie. Sigh.