I live in the Shire. 

Not The Shire and not the only Shire either. It’s my Shire though and it’s filled with creatures like me.

The place is beautiful and the lay of the land invites exploration. The natives are, mostly, interesting. They tend toward hard-working, industrious, and they love to create things, grow things and fix things. They read books and have conversations. They like to laugh, sometimes just for the sheer delight of being alive. And wonder of wonders, they’ve been known to have effective politicians.

Contentment rules. After a good meal and a pint, they might even put their feet up on the table with a deep satisfied sigh. OK. . . feet on the table is not our best image. Still, we are only human, you know. Sometimes we stick our noses into other people’s business, as if we have that right. That can be an irritant but we also know how to unruffle feathers if necessary.

A few of us, however, are downright nasty. There’s a judgmental streak in our DNA too. It surfaces so regularly you would think we would choose otherwise, but we don’t. There’s a control thing too, often disguised as truth but it’s not. It’s control. That causes some real pain, even sorrow, that abides for a long time. 

Even so, deep satisfaction prevails, Given essential Shire nature we have become experts at living with irritants and ignoring shadowy threats.

Lately the threats have become less shadowy and more threatening. Our maintaining-contentedness skills are being sorely tested. Disquieting stories have stubbornly surfaced -– actual threats to the comfort of our contentedness. Still, we are experts at living with irritants and ignoring shadows. All it takes is to not-look at our boundaries and to not-hear those pesky stories. Intentionally being oblivious can be very helpful.

But being oblivious is a workable plan only in the short term. In the long run it tends to expand irritation exponentially as well as destroying contentment. 

Another country has a different approach.

There’s magic in my Shire but these other folk speak about a “deep magic” woven into the very fiber of its creation. It’s an amazing concept that promises the destruction of evil for the good of all things created. Just the thing we need. But the patience necessary while waiting for the storm to pass over feels impossible. It is a long term view and it can be cruel or passive in the here and now. There’s a somewhere over the rainbow, wait and see, it’ll-all-work-out feel to it. 

Deep magic is more appealing than being oblivious, I suppose. It’s pretty challenging, however, to go all-in with either parade. Especially when suffering increases and joy decreases. Comfort fades. The very opposite of contentment.

We are in a mess and the mess is winning.

There’s one really weird thing though that rings true for my Shire. True for The Shire, all the other Shires, plus Shires by different names too. There’s always powerful characters, decision makers, and leaders, There’s even towering theologians. Many prominent leaders are magical, either figuratively or literally, like witches and wizards. 

But even the best magicians need pipsqueaks to make things right. Weird, huh?

Apparently brute power or titles demanding respect or displays of magical force cannot dispel the shadows without small critters or children at center stage. In all our best stories, the power brokers become merely the supporting cast while the crucial change agents are the pipsqueaks. 

Often considered insignificant by themselves and almost everybody else, they are giants in disguise. Size doesn’t matter. They look just like me and you. 

Somehow the little people know that the smallest candle can dispel a mountain of shadow. They know monsters and dragons exist but they can be destroyed. They find intellectual constructs to be interesting but authentic relationships are golden. They shun publicity but when aroused they will throw down the hypocritical thrones of the arrogant. 

They are scared of standing up, but they do. They operate way above their pay grade. Courageously moving forward, they persevere. Aware of personal flaws they know that evil will fail in the face of genuine good. Eventually. Hopefully. 

They have faith.

So, my Shire actually has all the right stuff after all. In our shadowland mess, we know that deep magic exists and we refuse to be oblivious. Even at the cost of losing contentedness, because evil can only be thwarted by hard working, open eyed, determined common folk who stand their ground with determination to do the right thing.

It’s time. The mess is at our door. Pipsqueaks of the Shire arise!