With a few exceptions, I don't like much change. Routines are comfortable for me; knowing when, where, and how something happens provides a certain degree of security. I hate admitting it, but when plans change, my feathers get a bit ruffled.
Bilbo Baggins felt the same way when a band of dwarves marched into his house speaking of adventures, singing of past dangers, and consuming every ounce of his food. "I can't just go running off into the blue! I'm a Baggins! Of Bag End!"
At every turn, Bilbo worried about the accumulating mud on his floors and the dwarves' roughness in handling his family heirlooms. Essentially, he focused on the lesser things, not realizing what an incredible opportunity had presented itself to him.
I, too, have let my gaze slip from what matters most. Perhaps that is why I've neglected my blog for so long! When I am not scribbling away at an essay or intensely studying for an exam, I usually find myself watching an episode of my favorite show or wasting life away on stupid Pinterest. Honestly, I am comfortable. Safe, I guess.
But that isn't really living, is it?
Bilbo's fear of stepping outside the Shire is understandable. An adventure? Something so much bigger than you that you might not come back the same? Sounds daunting. Throughout Gandalf and the dwarves' visit, Bilbo's repeated answer was "no."
However, when the choice left him, he realized what he had lost. You could just see the hope on his face as he scoured his house for the crew the next morning--and the disappointment at not finding them.
No matter how accustomed to habit and mundaneness we are, we are almost always intrigued by something new. A chance to see, hear, and be what we never have before. Once the initial fear is pushed aside, our perspectives start to look a little like this:
All things considered, Bilbo overcame his fear rather quickly. Throughout his journey, he followed the best he could and worked diligently not to be a mere accessory to the crew. He actually ended up saving their leader--Thorin, a stoic and initially cold-shouldered dwarf. By his actions, Bilbo proved that no matter how small you may be, no matter how inexperienced or insignificant you may feel, you can make a substantial difference. I admire him greatly for that.
As for myself, I cannot quite decipher what's been holding me back. Am I afraid of what I can become? Am I simply too comfortable with where I am? Am I just lazy? Whatever the case, I am not where I should be. Sitting, studying, waiting. It's safe, easy, and completely... lifeless.
For the longest time, life has just been a theory. A question. Some faraway point I've been working up to my entire existence so far. Somewhere I've heard it mentioned that high school is like a treadmill--you're running, sure, but not progressing. You do grow stronger, but a treadmill can only provide so much. If you could only get outside; then you could see what you have missed.
But this Wednesday, a joyful gasp escaped me as I woke up smiling. 18. I'm an adult. Childhood is behind me, and there's nothing but endless possibilities in my view. Who will I meet? What new obstacles will I face? What undiscovered joys and sorrows await me?
I've decided that 18, my 18th year, will be the year of possibilities--of adventure. For anything goes. This is the beginning of my life. From here on out, I will work to fulfill my potential and change to become what the Lord, the world, and those I love need me to be. Nobody said life and love would be easy, but I've never heard anyone say it wasn't worth it.
I'll leave you with this:
Once upon another time
Before I left the child behind,
I saw myself in summer nights
And stars lit up like candle lights
I make my wish, but mostly I believed
And yellow lines and tire marks
Sun-kissed skin and handlebars
And where I stood, was where I was
To be
Once upon another time
Decided nothing good in dying
So I would just keep on driving
Because I was free.
-Sarah Bareilles, Once Upon Another Time
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