I am old, Gandalf...
"I am old, Gandalf. I don't look it, but I am beginning to feel it in my heart of hearts... ' Why, I feel all thin, sort of stretched, if you know what I mean: like butter that has been scraped over too much bread. That can't be right. I need a change, or something"
Bilbo Baggins, The Fellowship of the Ring
I've been thinking about Bilbo Baggins and this scene a lot this week. I've not read The Lord of the Rings, or watched the movie, in years. Yet, this quote keeps rattling around in my head. So much so I went and pulled my copy off the shelf and skimmed the first chapter until I found it. Tolkien was onto something here because I have definitely been feeling like a bit of butter scraped over too much bread lately. I'm feeling old in my heart of hearts. Do I too need a change?
I'm not quite 111 like ol' Bilbo, but I find that scene so much more relatable in my mid-thirties than I did at 13 when I first read LOTR. My body aches, work is mentally taxing, my children, (which I love dearly) act like children. All of life's little challenges can stack up and wear a person down. I get why Bilbo ran off with the elves to the Undying Lands.
I often feel like the more I accomplish, the more opportunities arrive, the more I have to do. So the to-do list only grows, never shrinks. Granted, as an obliger, I'm terrible at saying no others, but great at saying it to myself.
I spread myself too thin. It is a known problem.
Compounding these realizations is physical exhaustion. This past Saturday, the wife and I purchased a couple of Shumard Oak saplings from our local Master Gardeners Club to plant in our front yard. Of course this means physical labor. So, while she was running the kids around to their Saturday activities, I stayed home to sweat and earn those sweet, sweet brownie points. I don't know how many I have, or if I'll ever get to spend them, but it's nice to acquire that elusive currency.
To start, I had to remove a nearly dead tree that was in our front yard when we moved in. It stood where we wanted to place one of the new saplings. Once that monstrosity was gone, I had to dig the holes for the new trees.
If you've never planted a tree, apparently it requires digging the hole about four times larger than the thing you are planting. Why? I don't know. That's just what the instructions provided by the garden club said. Maybe gardeners are secret masochists who love blistered palms and sore backs. But, as I so often do, I digress.
One chainsaw, an axe, a shovel, and several hours of back-breaking work later, the old tree was gone, and two new saplings stood proudly in our yard. I stood next to them, albeit a little hunched.
I'm writing this a full week after all that effort and my shoulders are still sore. The oozing blisters on my palms are a testament to the soft hands I have acquired in my office work as a librarian. My body is simply not used to manual labor of that intensity anymore.
I grew up on a farm. Before libraries I was a welder. Despite my nose always being in a book, I used to have calluses like iron. My younger self would have bounced back the next day ready to do it all over again. The fact is, I'm not 22 anymore. My mind forgets, but my body is always happy to send a painful reminder my way. A memento mori.
I know the aches will fade, but while they’re here, they serve as a good reminder that time passes through us all. Maybe that’s why Bilbo’s words hit so hard now. Not because I’m worn out, but because I’m finally aware of my aging. Maybe the thinning of myself isn’t a sign that something is wrong. It’s a sign that life is full. It means I’m showing up. Seneca supports this further when he wrote “it is not that we have a short time to live, but that we waste a lot of it.” I do waste a lot of the finite time I've been given. Despite that feeling, I know I have a good life full of family, community service, writing and books. Does a guy really need anything else?
I can’t make more butter, but I can get a smaller piece of toast to put it on. I can choose the work that matters, the people who matter, and the pace that keeps me from scraping myself too thin. Bilbo needed a change. Maybe I just need to reclaim a little intention and let the rest go.
8/100