Hopes and Fears

This may well be my last entry and I’m sorry if it is ragged – I don’t have Mr Frodo’s way with words.
I’m very weary and I have not slept for a long time.
Still, I’m the best of the three of us; Mr Frodo is twitching and groaning in some living nightmare and it makes him even harder to carry; Sméagol too, seems to be lost in some similar nightmare but he manages to stagger on.

I’m lucky in that I have never touched the ring, but I have felt its power.
Thanks to the book that came to us from beyond, Mr Frodo and I were able to avoid Faramir and maintain Sméagol’s trust and in return he helped us evade Shelob.

We are very close now! I do not know where my strength comes from.
I suppose I’m lucky that I learned early on that it is best to take no
notice, to plod on step after step, to swallow the pain and transform it into determination.

***************************************************

Our world is quite different to yours, I sometimes think that in my world the ring was not destroyed... maybe, merely melted, and its evil slowly polluting the fiery heart of our planet was eventually reborn as a phoenix of hell.
No-one knows.
How did the ring came to be reformed, or to be lost again?
Perhaps, in my world it was never destroyed, it did not melt... but the heart of the planet, still full of Elven magic, sucked it down, fought against its evil influence and drew the might of the Evil one within itself.

***************************************************

The races are all mixed by now and it is hard to tell a Hobbit from a Dwarf save that Dwarves tend to be stockier and a little taller. No sign of the elves although...

Palantirs are common now and every home seems to have one.
Mr Frodo used to say that they would only become a means for the Enemy to push leaflets of propaganda through backdoor letterboxes...
To be read later by sleepwalking viewers who never noticed that their lives were being manipulated by stealth.

In my world few people realise that the Enemy exists!
There are a few, who know him and call him the Devil.
I remember someone used to shout -
“The Devil’s best trick is convincing people he does not exist.”
He hates the sun and hides in his black tower playing chess with an unseen opponent while his servants run our world.

It is funny how different our physical worlds are but how similar our spirtitual worlds.

Without the book you sent I don’t think we could have managed to get so far.
Now, of course, we have taken a different path, the hope is that Smeagol – who has had more experience of the ring than any other, save its maker – will be strong enough to withstand the power of the ring just long enough to throw it back into the fire.

The fear is that he will see-saw back into Gollum and I will have to throw my bag of flour and try to kick him into the void and hope that the planet will suck the Enemy back into itself and give us a
reprieve while the Master of the Eagles arrives.

***************************************************

If we fail I don't know what will happen but I fear the Enemy will at last have all he needs to dominate my world completely.
I wouldn't want to live in such a world but I would not want to harm anyone else in my hope of saving it - so I desperately hope all goes well
with Smeagol.

Will the outcome have any effect on your world?
I don't know!
Maybe Mr Frodo knows, I think he once said that all our world were connected by a shared dream.
Some say that everyone carries their own universe around with them.
A local reflection of the dream which allows each dreamer to be the central characters in their own story.
That when they have finished their story they give it to the Eagles and pass on elsewhere.

***************************************************

It doesn't feel right! Something is wrong...

It should be getting warmer but it is getting colder. There is a wind so cold it passes through my very bones to freeze my heart.

I'm starting to fear that the Enemy has become so powerful that he can decieve our eyes, fool our senses and makes us believe almost anything.

I wish Mr Frodo would awake from his nightmare!
I'm not sure where I'm going any longer...
I'm starting to doubt that the Enemy was ever defeated here, in, this, my world.

Yet, I remember happy times, when laughter was close to everyone's lips.
I remember sunny days walking through the countryside with no thought or fear of danger.
I remember when life was full of happy dreams and we all thought we would live forever.

When we had more than we needed and palantirs were just the playthings of Wizards and Lords.
When horses were many and wagons were few and the future belonged to children.

I'm not going to stop now. I can't stop now.
We've come too far, been though too much.
It is not what I expected but I'll keep on until I can't go any further. On and up, on and up.

what's the point of stories anyway?
They seem to be true and then you find out that they are just somebody's fantasy.
Just tales to make children feel safe in their beds at night or to maybe to frighten them so they have to pull the covers over their heads.

Maybe the story we weave our life from has no theme. Maybe we just string random events together into a story because we need to feel there is some point, some reason to carry on. Maybe...

Now, take a hold of yourself Samwise Gamgee...
you said you would take Mr Frodo where ever he wanted to go and that's what you're going to do.

You're going to stop arguing with yourself and forget about stories and reasons and consequences.
You've already made up your mind, and promised yourself you would never think about it again.
So don't think my lad just walk!

Almost felt like Gandalph was with me then...
but he's gone, fallen!
No, wait, in the book he is reborn.
Now there's some hope.
But will it be the same here now we've changed the story?
We should have followed the book.
Left things the way they were instead of trying to improve the plan.
Why change a good ending just to save Gollum?
On and up, on and up...

***************************************************

A child’s voice said “The steps are real, but I’m not”.
Suddenly I was in the Italian Gardens.
It was a lovely Summer’s morning and a young boy was looking at me with an enigmatic expression...

***************************************************

Maybe the story we weave our life from has no theme. Maybe we just string random events together into a story because we need to feel there is some point, some reason to carry on, a destiny.
Maybe life is just a cascade of cause and effect, events randomly selected and glued together to form a rickety reality which simply reflects our beliefs onto a screen of conciousness which mixes sensations and dreams, motives and memories.

A reflection in our mind's mirror, dark or bright, biased by the projection of our personal pains and pleasures.
A reflection which we view through a mix of hopes and fears, thoughts and dreams, motives and memories which results in a view point that is unique and yet stems from the same shared sensations of the planet that we all inhabit.

Maybe...

Now the pain is less, I realise exactly what the point of stories is for me.
It’s well over two years since I had a drink, or a smoke, and although I miss the momentary strength they can bestow I know, only to well, that they only make it harder in the long run.

So now, when all else fails, I use the strength of the characters from my favourite stories to help me get through.
In my experience, it is better to fight for your dream rather than to hide yourself in other people’s dreams, but, occasionally, you just need to get through...

Take care and look for the Eagles.

***************************************************

Here are some notes for anyone else on a similar journey

Oh, friends, I've been very ill in mind and body
when hope lay faint and fading on the floor.
Times I couldn't wait for death to bring his blessing
so that I would not have to suffer any more.

Yet I knew that there would be a bright tomorrow,
when the darkness shrank before the spreading light.
For the night is ever followed by a new day...
when hopes revive and once more soar in flight.

So it was, at last, there came a new dawn,
Troubles fled and worries disappeared.
Things I’d learned to get me through the dark night.
Helped me deal with things that I once feared.

I found not every problem needs an answer.
That a solution would appear in its own time...
Life would find a way to move me forward
That was far superior to any plan of mine.

I realised that life was just a journey
The road's the same though scenery may change
The trick is to learn how not to go in circles
Then nowhere is beyond your reach or range.

The road we tread seems very long and testing,
yet every step takes us closer to our goal.
For the journey is not simply about arriving -
but developing in body, mind and soul.

Giving aid and understanding to those who falter,
shouting warnings to those who roar by in a flash...
knowing there is chaos round the corner,
caused by yet another Wall Street crash.

Don't tarry at the pub or in the drug den,
straight on past the all-night kebab stand.
Do not take the easy way for it will merely
take you back once more to Neverland.

Go up the steep, steep hill toward the Palace,
onward now without a backward glance.
The mountain air will refresh you and revive you,
and help you to awaken from your trance.

When at last you reach your final destination
you can stand up tall and proudly say...
“Though the journey has, at times, been a hard one...
it has been worth it all to be here with you today!”

Further More

I wandered lonely as a cloud that defies prevailing winds.
Gazing at nature’s gift of beauty which no litter bug rescinds.
Drifting down toward the sea and trying not to die.
Sailing on that silver screen too disturbed to reflect the sky.
I look back o’r my journey - from Purgatory to Hell.
Where monsters menace poor meek mice...
and savage those who tell!

Yet, I escaped, and here I am, further down the line.
I see the path to Paradise and one day it will be mine.

Like Blake I found that excess, jades Hedonistic fun.
That when I can no longer walk, then is the time to run.
That habits formed along the road, had merely slowed me down...
Changed my destination and lured me back to town.
That fame and fickle fortune are just traps to snare the good.
I’d rather be a real turtle with my feet still in the mud ;O)

It’s amazing how powerful routines can be in helping you.
An exercise routine is a minimum but I recommend walking in the park every day for those who can manage it... just something to get you out other than the pub :O) Gardening would be good instead.

Thought I'd better explain the 'run instead of walk' line.
I really do walk a lot and sometime I over do it and my muscles get so tired that I literally feel like I can't take another step but I've discovered that I can still run...
since running uses different muscles - mind you, it's best DOWN hill:O)
The point being that circumstances change and that sometimes the unthinkable or the unexpected is the only way forward.