(Galadriel) ‘…Do you see now wherefore your coming is to us as the footstep of Doom? For if you fail, then we are laid bare to the Enemy. Yet if you succeed, then our power is diminished, and Lothlórien will fade, and the tides of Time will sweep it away. We must depart into the West, or dwindle to a rustic folk of dell and cave, slowly to forget and to be forgotten.’
Frodo bent his head. ‘And what do you wish?’ he said at last.
‘That what should be shall be,’ she answered. […] ‘For the fate of Lothlórien you are not answerable, but only for the doing of your own task. Yet I could wish, were it of no avail, that the One Ring had never been wrought, or had remained for ever lost.’
Sometimes the weight of my entire change in circumstances hits me all at once, and though I have hope and faith (and even patience, at times), and I am actively trying to be open to growing and changing… it overwhelms me. It’s a lot to take in. And a lot to grieve.
And sometimes I lose faith and, like Galadriel, wish that the option to change and grow had never come up at all. Even though I know I’d have ended up resenting myself for it, I sometimes wish I’d remained in the Shire, as it were. But then again, if I had–I’d have never have gone to CA to begin with. But I did, and here I am.
‘I pass the test’, she said. ‘I will diminish, and go into the West, and remain Galadriel.’ “