Mordor

 J.R.R. Tolkien was a solider in World War I. He was one of the lucky ones who lived while watching 20 million men die around him. I have thought frequently about the end of his novels, about how Frodo can never fully return to the Shire because the experience of traveling to Mordor and seeing so much suffering changed him permanently. Despite bearing witness to the atrocities of the first world war and the global chaos which happened afterward, Tolkien's crowning artistic masterpiece is a story which embraces the beauty of human potential, connection, kindness, empathy, mercy, and faith. He is austere and realistic in his storytelling and there are moments where the future of humankind seems to rest on the edge of a dime and on the backs of a few truly courageous individuals.

History is a balm to me in times like these when the goodness of humanity seems largely in question. But I remember in Tolkien's stories, not everyone fights to defeat Sauron - some are praying for his success. But many good and kind people do band together and it is just enough to get the ring to Mordor. For some people, the journey ends in death. For others, there are inalterable scars. And yet, Tolkien reminds us over and over again that we still get to choose, that there is always the option to be courageous and kind, even if victory is not guaranteed. The goodness of our neighbors, the richness of the earth, and the hope for a better future are reason enough to sacrifice. They are reason enough to hope.

I have been devouring Nick Cave's Red Hand Files and I am enamored with the idea that fear, pessimism, and nihilism are a coward's path. They are the easy choice because they require nothing from us. So long as we believe there is no way forward and no potential for beauty, then we cannot be injured by setbacks. Optimism requires work. Faith requires courage. The more difficult path is almost certainly the one that requires our vulnerability.

I do not want to live in a cave. I do not want to die with my head buried underground. I think, in the short time available to me, I want to feel the blood coursing through my veins and the heavy burden of failure and the ecstasy of love. I want to be destroyed by loss and re-created in adversity. In the time I have here, I want to be present for each beautiful and challenging moment, bathing in the light and the dark of existence.

And of course, I only want to do so if you'll be along for the ride. I can muster the courage beside you. Because 90% of my bravery and strength and hope is rooted in the knowledge that, despite your imperfections, every molecule in your body is sacred and unique and beautiful. With you by my side, I will walk into Mordor and every grueling step will be one rooted in love and devotion, a silent prayer to the universe that, in the cosmic scheme of things, perhaps hope, optimism, faith, and loyalty do have the potential to tip the scale ever closer toward benevolence.