One More Step
In the chapter THREE IS COMPANY, hobbits Pippin, Sam and Frodo finally depart for Buckland, where their buddy Merry awaits them. This first leg of the ultimate journey seems a small one, but it’s momentous for hobbits who have lived their whole lives in the familiarity of Hobbiton.
As the hobbits set forth into this new terrain, Tolkien describes Sam: “His round eyes were wide open - for he was looking across lands he had never seen to a new horizon.” This experience of beholding a new horizon contains both anticipation and fear of so much more than just leaving his home. Words can’t do justice to this feeling. Even the dialogue that Jackson’s film gives him falls short of describing the full depth of what he experiences at this moment.
In the film, Sam observes the occasion, “If I take one more step, it’ll be the farthest away from home I’ve ever been.” Here’s the link for the moment in film - SAM TAKING ONE MORE STEP
This quote has become famous in the realms of LOTR fandom and memes. There was even a nine hour, eighteen minute edit on YouTube for a while (which I failed to locate in my research) in which Sam’s “if I take one more step” plays every single time Sam takes a step. Even when he takes many steps in a row, which he does a lot in the film. Hopefully that gives you some idea of the masterpiece spawned by this idea. On the surface level, it can appear redundant, a joke gone on too long. But the replay persists even when you expect it to finally just stop and let you watch the film in its original glory.
The first time I saw this (not in its entirety), I found it hilarious if not brilliant. I just liked that it existed and had no intention of watching it the full way through. However, as I searched for it this time around and couldn’t find it, I happened upon another video of a second party YouTube channel whose creator had taken the time to watch the entire thing in addition to interviewing Patryc, the maker of the original. Patryc says that for him at least, it’s a “transformative” viewing experience, and it is. If taken as a serious piece of film, you’re forced to relive Sam’s mix of wonder and fear every single time he takes one more step away from his known life. And given the enormity of his undertaking, this pause and reflection on each step is more than fitting.
As simple and even humorous as the observation is, it’s the truest way he can express what he’s going through. That one more step is in a lot of ways the greatest accomplishment Sam and any of the hobbits makes at each point in their journey whether they’re aware of it or not. That one more step is the often forgotten achievement everyone in recovery should recognize and celebrate for the small, consistent risk and victory it is.
I recently had the chance to share a bit of my story at a commitment to a recovery center in New Bedford recently. I would love to say that I’m an eloquent speaker, but that’s not really the case. I often find myself unsure where my sentences are going when I have to talk about myself rather than something I know, such as books or languages. It’s not bad to the extent that Michael Scott famously advertised himself, but it definitely needs work. This fear of speaking about myself in front of people creates a bit of anxiety whenever I go on these commitments or raise my hand in meetings, but I’m learning to lean into the fear. At this particular commitment, I realized mid-share that I would soon surpass the longest period of time I’d ever remained sober in my adult life. I’d strung sixty days together before, starting back in October of 2022, and before that I don’t remember the last long consecutive period of time I’d been sober in the past decade. So as I reflected on the approaching 60-day record, I found the train of my mind, and hence my story, drifting to Sam’s words. This will be the longest I’ve ever been sober. This will be the furthest I’ve ever been from home. Totally different literal meanings, and yet both hold that same mix of fear and anticipation.
In the time since I began drafting this essay to the time I’ve completed and published it, I’ve entered that territory of being the furthest I’ve ever been from the familiarity of the life I left when I set out on this path of recovery. It’s easy to forget that small victory some days when I let my mind wander into the currents of my job, my relationships, my trials and other small attention seeking things. A bit like when Sam doesn’t pause to reflect on his steps in the chaos of an attack by orcs. Pausing then might have facilitated a very different ending for our hero. That’s one of the reasons I like Patryc’s video though; it celebrates every step that deserves to be recognized, not necessarily every step that it’s fitting or appropriate to pause and recognize.
In recovery, every day is a victory. Many AA groups celebrate milestones by handing out chips for anything from 24 hours to 11 months. These monthly recognitions of one’s progress encourage the recipients to keep taking those steps and allow the rest of the group to support each other’s continued progress. It’s really beautiful. It’s like if the rest of the fellowship stood around to applaud for Sam as he takes each step, giving him a pat on the back or a hobbit fist bump to remind him he’s doing the right thing even when it doesn’t feel glamorous.
Each step or day may not feel worthy of that recognition, but each step or day in the right direction does deserve it. Like Sam’s steps away from home, each day further from familiarity and into recovery vary. Some are effortless and done in the company of people who support us and whose love makes us feel whole and connected. Others can be incredibly difficult and make it hard for us to imagine it ever getting any better. Some days can feel incredibly lonely and even make us look back at the past with rose tinted lenses, grieving the loss of our previous lives and selves. This is normal. Even though we can accept recovery as the only way to truly live, we’ve lost something in the transition from our former way of living to this new, unknown life.
There’s something Frodo says too as they leave Hobbiton that resonates with how I felt at the beginning of my own journey. As he turns and raises a farewell hand to his home, he muses, “I wonder if I shall ever look down into that valley again” (79). I think his reflection echoes what a lot of us feel when we leave something we know we have to leave but still feel the fingers of familiarity clinging to us, beckoning us back. It would be so easy to just not leave in the first place, but from a distance we’re able to look back and see the dark valley that existence was, comfortable and known as it was. Still, a part of us wonders if we’ll ever return because it’s still so visible to us. That’s another reason why each step forward, especially in the beginning, is an achievement. We may not have time to celebrate every moment or day, and I have yet to hear of a group that gives out chips for every day of recovery, but a pause in the course of the day can foster mindfulness of our continued work, help us cultivate gratitude for the steps already taken, and set clearer intention for the ones that lie ahead.
