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Whenever I'm feeling the weight of the world crushing down on my shoulders, I like to think of far happier times. Like Sam and Frodo when they're trapped in the misty, dank pits of Shelob's lair, perhaps a shining light from my memory will light the way, fighting the demons that possess this dark space and cloud my vision.
Ironically, one of my favorite things to do is sit down and watch the LOTR trilogy, so when I'm feeling particularly worrisome, sad, or just generally blue, apparently I like to fixate on a hobbit's worst nightmare—a 1779-mile journey on foot to Mordor. Strangely, the literal fight between good and evil is what settles my soul. If Frodo can survive getting his finger bitten off by his evil, hairless, counterpart, I can buck up my courage and write that email I've been putting off all week.
For in the darkest times, our brightest light has a chance to shine. And in those trials and tribulations, perhaps a Fellowship can be born.