The Gift of Disturbance

And Bilbo Baggins

‘We are plain quiet folk and I have no use for adventures.  Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things!  Make you late for dinner!’

I don’t really like going out.  And I’m not hugely keen on seeing other people.  One or two, here and there, is more than suffice.  I prefer books, films and fireside naps.   Much better.   At university I spent much of my day in the Edinburgh equivalent of a hobbit hole, and my evenings in a tiny inn called The Sandy Bells with a fellow halfling.  As a student, my version of a wild party was reading out loud the entire Chronicles of Narnia with a friend over three days, whilst sipping sweet cheap sherry.  Bilbo Baggins is my hero. 

And although in many ways The Hobbit is an archetypal hero story – hero, dragon, treasure – Bilbo Baggins is not your typical hero.  He is three feet tall and prefers a well-stocked pantry to perilous quests.  He is no Achilles, Beowulf or Hercules.  There is nothing warrior-like about him.  He is a hero like us.  That is to say, not much of a hero at all.  Like Bilbo we choose comfort, security and certainty over adventure.  And when we are disturbed by the wise old voice within, our inner Gandalf, we refuse the call politely. 

‘We don’t want any adventures here, thank you.  You might try over The Hill or across The Water.’

But there is a conflict within.  A duality that exists in all of us.   Like Bilbo, we are both Baggins and Took.  Bagginses, on his father’s side, are known for being wealthy, respectable and for never doing anything exciting.  The Tooks, however, on his mother’s side, are notorious for having taken part in adventures. 

‘Not that Belladonna Took ever had any adventures after she became Mrs Bungo Baggins.  Bungo, that was Bilbo’s father, built the most luxurious hobbit-hole for her[...].  Still it is probable that Bilbo, her only son, although he looked and behaved exactly like a second edition of his solid and comfortable father, got something a bit queer in his make-up from the Took side, something that only waited for a chance to come out.  The chance never arrived until Bilbo Baggins was grown up, being about fifty years old or so, and living in the beautiful hobbit-hole built by his father […] until he had in fact apparently settled down immovably.’

The cautious and lethargic Baggins dominates Bilbo’s personality, as is the case with most of us.  I certainly love staying indoors, wrapped in scarves, surrounded by books, drinking tea by the fire in the cosy comfort of my own home.  My bath-times can last up to three days.  But something else stirs within us.  A tiny Took in the depth of our being.  It longs for a bit of chaos, challenge and growth.  And like Bilbo, we refuse the call. 

So, rather annoyingly, it takes some kind of invasion to get us to go on the necessary journey of growth. 

I must say, I find the ‘unexpected party’ a bit of a trauma to read.  The Dwarves are terrible guests.  They eat and drink everything in Bilbo’s beautiful pantries – the cheeses, pies, wines and cakes - making a monumental mess in his lovely hobbit hole.  And I bet they smell terribly too.  But there seems no other way to get to Bilbo.  Perhaps there is no way to get to our inner Took, other than through traumas and disturbances; those irritations, anxieties and depressions that knock on our doors completely uninvited.  So infuriating.  But these symbolic Dwarves of our lives - these uncouth, unruly beasts from dark caverns - may well turn out to be our liberators; voices to listen to, rather than shut out. 

‘As they sang the hobbit felt the love of beautiful things made by hands and by cunning and by magic moving through him, a fierce and a jealous love, the desire of the hearts of dwarves.  Then something Tookish woke up inside him, and he wished to go and see great mountains, and hear the pine-trees and the waterfalls, and explore the caves, and wear a sword instead of a walking-stick.’

Perhaps, like the Dwarves, the uninvited intruders of our psyche carry a message.  A stirring song deep in our soul, calling us to mountains, waterfalls and the long-forgotten gold of our lives: our deepest, truest and most authentic selves.

I have often wondered what would have happened if Bilbo had chosen to stay in his beautiful hobbit hole in The Shire.  Of course, we know what our hero would have missed out on in terms of his personal growth and development.  But would it have been that bad if he had just stayed a true Baggins in Bag End?  What happens to us when we ignore the knocks on the doors of our psyche; when we shoo away the disturbances and refuse the call?  Sadly, I don’t think we are left in peace.  I know what happens when I ignore those ‘desires’ that stirred in Bilbo as he listened to the Dwarves’ song; they have a cunning way of transmuting into restless nights, irritability and melancholia (at best).  I become a very grumpy, resentful and isolated little Bagginses when I choose lethargy and fear over writing, music-making and risk-taking.  The wizard knocks.  The Took stirs.  The Dwarves trash the place.   

And so it is… there seems no easy way to the treasure I long for.  Believe me I’ve tried every easy way there is.  Nope.  I must welcome the strange, dark melodies of my doubts, dips and fears.  Decipher the message in my disruptive moods and irritations.  And then I must take action.  Leave the fireside and the familiar.  Step out of The Shire and the known.  And wander into a world full of trolls, goblins, caverns and dragons. 

‘We must away ere break of day,

To find our long-forgotten gold.’

Instagram

Twitter

Spotify

The Apocalypse Disco