Walking without wizards

Middle Earth is littered with orcs, demons, giant man-hating trees, and power-hungry kings. But my teen self was more terrified by one character's death. Years after I read the books, I'd wake night after night from a recurring nightmare of being Frodo, knowing Gandalf was dead, and having to walk on anyway.

With a wizard around, you can be fairly sure that no matter how many monsters attack, the world will sort itself out at the end. The lack of certainty that haunted my nightmares was, as I'm beginning to realize, excellent preparation for being a grown up. Being an adult is essentially an act of embracing uncertainty.

Unlike the stuff of childhood, there aren't any grades or peers to tell you how cute you look, or how good or terrible you are at a certain subject. There's no grading curve to simplify the hard bits, and no parents to swipe away hurt with a hug. There is no binary outcome to most of life's tests, and several come with no guaranteed returns for the work you put in. Every once in a while there really is no version of the story where the good guys win. And no, there certainly aren't any dashing princes -- or wizards (who seem more useful anyway) -- charging up on shining white horses to rescue either hobbit or helpless human.

Sometimes you know the wizard is dead, but you walk into the scary dark places anyway, because there's a job to be done. If you're lucky, you'll have a friend to hold your hand. Maybe it'll even be someone who will carry and drag you through the hardest parts. Be certain there will be armies and giant spiders and trolls to throw you off your mission. If you're lucky, you'll hold something precious, and have someone dear to remind you of why you're in this mess.

Some  of us might get to go home at journey's end: to hillside hobbit-holes, or palaces with elvish queens, or more eternal dwellings. Maybe, just maybe, the walk will be worth it. But however it ends, we'll all have a story to tell.

And so, this year, a wish to remember the good parts: I hope you remember the precious things you carry. I hope you love the story you tell yourself when it's all done. And when magic is sparse, I hope you find your own light to shine through the darkest places.