Our First Anniversary

Ah, how fast time flies when you’re busy. Or on deadline. But hard as it is for me to believe, today marks the first day of the second year of the No Map. No Guide. No Limits. web site. It’s a journey and a work in progress, like any other adventure, and I hope the coming year sees as many interesting and good changes and developments as the past one did!
Indeed, the opening of each New Year tends to turn our thoughts to change; from what has been to what might be in the as-yet-unwritten and uncertain year ahead. (Just a year ago, I wrote a post called The Positive Possibilities of the New Year, if you want more on that.) New Year’s resolutions, after all, are entirely about what we wish or hope to change in the months to come. The fact that so few resolutions ever last the year—or even the first quarter—is a testament to just how difficult change is. Or, at least, how difficult voluntary change is. Each year, life throws all kinds of involuntary change at us, with little or no notice.
The lives of most independently-employed people, in fact, is an ongoing exercise in uncertainty and change. Suppliers of paychecks change, what they have to do to keep those paychecks coming changes, financial status changes, work pace changes. The good news is, that can make voluntary change easier. The bad news, of course, is all that constant shifting and uncertainty can also be exhausting to live through in real time.
Over the New Year’s weekend, one of the cable channels reran the Lord of the Rings trilogy of movies, which was a perfect way to launch a New Year full of uncertainty, possibility, and unknown challenges and experiences to come. I’ve talked before, on this site, about Lord of the Rings as a classic example of a hero’s journey, with all the initiation testing, wizards and monsters and lessons learned. But watching the drama of each chapter unfold in real time again made me remember just how dark a lot of that journey was.
Tens of thousands of Orcs attack, time after time. In the pouring rain, sometimes, just to make it truly miserable for the good guys defending the fortress. And monsters so hideous and huge, in so many waves, that surely they would best an army of superheros, let alone one made up of mere mortals. Or at least, mostly mortals. But even more daunting, in a way, was the terrible loneliness and discouragement of Frodo and Sam as they tried to make their way to Mount Doom. They are hunted, haunted, betrayed, captured, wounded, and burdened with the life-draining darkness of The Ring.
At one point, near the end of The Twin Towers (the second of the three movies), Frodo is so discouraged that Sam delivers a soliloquy on the value of a hero’s journey as a bit of a pep talk for him. In all the great stories, Sam reminds Frodo … “the ones that really matter,” the heroes are always fighting impossible battles, against impossible odds. The heroes don’t give up, though, because they are fighting for something they believe in even more: that there is good still to be had in the world; things left worth fighting for.
“I wonder,” Sam says in a light twist of humor as he and Frodo set out on their journey again, “if they’ll ever write a story about us. About Frodo Baggins.”
“And about Sam the Wise,” Frodo says back with a small smile. And then, very seriously, “Frodo wouldn’t have gotten far without his Sam.”
In that exchange is the nut of the whole story: the reason for the fight, an acknowledgement of how dark the night can be, and the importance of a really good friend to give us the strength to endure and persevere through it all.
Not that any of us are likely to face quite such dire or horrible adversaries and circumstances in the New Year. But watching the movies felt like my own Sam Wise pep-talk reminder that any uncertain or great undertaking entails challenge, struggle, discouraging setbacks and, occasionally, some very dark nights along the way to the mountaintop. Watching Sam and Frodo’s struggles made my own seem far less daunting by comparison.
At the same time, there are also unexpected gifts. A piece in the The New York Times this past weekend talked about how the current economic downturn has resulted in people spending less time and money on “stuff” and more on experiences, ranging from visits to museums to camping and other more adventurous family activities. What’s more, they’re finding they like exploring the world in those new ways.
“When you’re out there in the water,” said a father who’d bought a used, pink canoe for inexpensive family fun when the household income dropped by half this past year, “you can think about things openly and freely.”
That is, of course, something most physical adventure-seekers already know. In fact, most inherently adventurous people already value experience over stuff. But the point is, the recession has forced change onto far more people than ever would have chosen it voluntarily. And … as many adventurers also know … even if you don’t choose the adventure, and even if it entails a lot of challenges along the way … it can also be both rewarding and fun. 
So … we start again. A new year, a second year, a new 365-day swath of unknown territory to explore … and for us to make the most of. Even if some of the nights make us feel like Frodo and Sam the Wise, and even if the boat we boldly set forth in is a used, pink canoe.