The Wisdom of the Shire

Imagine a world with no alarm clocks. That’s what it’s like in the Shire. People get up according to the rhythm of their life. If the Hobbit is a farmer, he or she probably goes to bed a little while after sundown, and wakes up as the sun begins to rise in the morning (or when the cock crows), getting at least ten hours of sleep. A retired burglar/bachelor like Bilbo most likely stays up late and sleeps in just like his creator J.R.R. Tolkien was wont to do (see his quote at the beginning of this book).

Anybody who has suffered serious sleep deprivation, either from overworking, or insomnia, or having a new baby (the ultimate sleep-depriver), knows that a lack of sleep—even for a short period—can cause a plethora of problems: illness, depression and mild brain damage. My wife and I experienced serious postnatal lack of sleep with one of our kids, and we actually lost the ability to speak in coherent sentences. After a few months of a colicky baby we were babbling like crazy people, or like Gollum during one of his bizarre rants.*

Do you get enough sleep at night? Because good sleep is, without a doubt, one of the most important parts of a healthy life. The Hobbits know what is good for them and get as much as they possibly can, wherever and whenever they can get it. Their preferred place of sleep is a soft, comfy bed, of course. But they’ll lie down and curl up in the top of an Elven flet* if that’s the only place to get some shut-eye for the night.

Bilbo is such a sleepyhead he almost misses going off on his adventure. The day after Thorin and the Dwarves come for dinner, Bilbo wakes up well past the break of dawn, puts on his dressing gown, and inspects Bag End only to find it’s empty of guests. He leisurely makes himself a hearty breakfast (which any sane person should be in the habit of doing). It’s only when Gandalf shows up and tells him he’s got less than ten minutes to meet up with the Dwarves at The Green Dragon that he dashes off like mad, leaving his second breakfast half-eaten on the table.

He doesn’t get another good night’s sleep for many months. In between that time he’s forced to nap in a dank goblin cave with his head churning with “nasty dreams”; in the dark forest of Mirkwood, where the instant he tries to snooze a giant spider starts wrapping up his legs with web (interrupting nice dreams of “eggs and toast and butter”); or on the cold floor of the secret tunnel in the Lonely Mountain, dozing in the utter darkness, breathing stagnant Dwarf breath.* His best night’s sleep comes after getting cracked on the head during the Battle of the Five Armies, and that’s not saying much.

The expression “Let sleeping dogs lie” doesn’t come close to describing the potential hazard of waking up a snoozing dragon. But Bilbo is so thoroughly sleep deprived after his arduous trek to the Lonely Mountain he lets a bunch of crusty Dwarves guilt him into sneaking into Smaug’s hoard, where the cruel-hearted dragon is in no mood to be woken up by a funny little invisible creature smelling of Dwarf and pony—a thief who pesters him with riddles and then has the gall to steal one of his prized golden drinking cups!*

We all have the potential to make huge life-altering mistakes when we’re sleepy. Like one of those people you hear about who forgets their baby at a pizza parlor, or the nuclear reactor operator who’s snoozing while the big important warning light is flashing red at three in the morning. Look around at your coworkers at about four o’clock in the afternoon. Are they rubbing their eyes like little kids? Stifling yawns? Nodding off to sleep in the big meeting? Instead of going to bed at a reasonable hour these people were posting “I’m tired” on their Facebook pages late at night while simultaneously watching bad ’80s movies on Netflix. For some reason adults just don’t make these connections, or they’re in denial about how much sleep they really need. If you’re reading this book right now and you’re tired, put it down and go to bed.

Bilbo makes up for all of his missed sleep with a life of leisure at Bag End. And later in life, after he “retires” to Rivendell, he spends most of his time in front of a big cozy fireplace, writing poetry and dozing to his heart’s content. The Elves who are his new companions, being immortal, sleep in a different way than the Hobbit. They lose themselves in an Elven dreamworld while they “walk open-eyed in the light of this world.”

We humans and Hobbits don’t have the luxury of dozing while we’re driving to work like the Elves would be able to do. We have hectic lives where most of us are running around like crazy in traffic, or taking care of our exuberant kids, or going to school (or a combination of all three of these). Most of us are functioning on a serious sleep deficit, in denial about how important sleeping really is in our lives. The truth is it’s about as necessary as eating and breathing. Every animal in our world has to sleep—even insects and fish.*

One of the best ways to prepare for a delicious night of sleeping is a hot bath. There’s nothing more wonderful than enjoying a good soaking after a day of hiking or skiing or kayaking or whatever and then rolling into a soft bed for a solid night of pillow-drooling. Hobbits love baths. When Frodo, Sam and Pippin arrive at Frodo’s new cottage in Crickhollow, Merry has prepared tubs of hot water for the cross-country walkers who’ve trekked nearly eighty miles in three days. (Of course Pippin breaks into a song in praise of bathing.) That night the Hobbits fall into the deepest slumber, filled with interesting dreams.

This is another important boon of sleep: the dreamworld. If you don’t go into the proper sleep cycle, your dreams get interrupted, or never happen at all. REM (rapid eye movement) dreaming is your brain’s way of playing and blowing off steam. A night with no REM dreams is like putting your brain in solitary confinement. When I’m getting great sleep my dreams are spectacular and fun and I wake up refreshed. I think faster on my feet the next day and I’m more creative. If I’m not getting enough sleep, my dreams are dull and repetitive; and during my subsequent waking time my thoughts become fixated on problems rather than solutions.

Many of the characters in The Lord of the Rings have profound visions while they’re sleeping. Boromir has a prophecy in a dream telling him to come to Rivendell where he’ll find “Isildur’s Bane” (the One Ring) and a “Halfling” (both of which come true). Frodo has a mysterious dream of a figure trapped on a tall tower being carried away by a great eagle. It’s a vision of Gandalf’s rescue from Saruman’s Tower of Orthanc at Isengard.*

Now I’m not saying you’re going to come up with one of the greatest songs in the history of music, like when Paul McCartney dreamed up “Yesterday.” Or conjure a classic work of literature, like when Mary Shelley dreamt of the idea for Frankenstein. But I think people who are in touch with their dreams can discover little mysteries about themselves that carry over into their waking lives and help them be more creative and present. You’re receiving messages from your subconscious that your waking self might be either repressing or just overlooking.

For example, when I was nearly done with the first draft of this book, I had a dream where Ian McKellen-as-Gandalf came to me in a dream and told me, in that scolding voice we all know so well, that I had forgotten about the Grey Pilgrim as a font of wisdom in The Lord of the Rings and of his importance to the Hobbits. Dream-Gandalf then outlined his chapter in great detail for me. When I woke up, I quickly typed up “The Istari Protocol” (see chapter 17).

Frodo’s vision of Gandalf’s escape from Saruman’s tower prison occurs at Tom Bombadil’s house, probably one of the best places to get a good night’s sleep in all of Middle-earth. When the Hobbits arrive at Tom and his wife Goldberry’s little cottage they’re utterly exhausted from their adventure in the Old Forest with the Hobbit-snatching tree. After dinner they fall into Bombadil’s wonderfully soft beds, put their heads on the downy pillows, and pull the wool blankies up to their chins.

Bombadil speaks to them soothingly, like they’re his children, telling them not to be afraid of any noises in the night. They can talk about all the scary stuff (like Ringwraiths) in the morning, he reassures them. The next day, bright and early, old Yellow Boots Bombadil—back from a sunrise scamper over the hillsides—wakes the Hobbits up and tells them breakfast is ready. Of course they jump up and rush to the table, refreshed and ready to stuff their faces.

Scientists have proved that lack of sleep causes depression and impaired cognitive and physical function. If people are deprived of sleep for long enough, they will actually go mad, and this is one of the reasons sleep deprivation really is a kind of torture. Even Gandalf the Grey has to sleep, and he’s one of the mysterious Istari.* Although the one time the wizard tries to catch a few winks with Hobbits around, it nearly leads to disaster when Pippin steals the palantir* from right out of his hands.

Studies have also shown your body doesn’t heal quickly when you aren’t getting enough sleep. In the Houses of Healing, Aragorn uses the power of sleep to heal Faramir, Éowyn and Merry who have all been wounded by Ringwraiths and are now trapped in dark and fevered nightmares. Aragorn enters their dreamworlds and calls each of them back from the torments in which they’re trapped. He’s like a sleep hypnotherapist curing his patients of night terrors and bringing them peace of mind so they can rest and become restored to health.*

Sleep is a way to forget grief, as Aragorn says to the Companions in Lothlórien when he’s “weary in body and in heart” after the loss of Gandalf in Moria. He practically throws himself onto an Elven couch and falls instantly into a deep slumber.

Frodo and Sam are so sleep deprived on their journey through Mordor it starts to break down their bodies and minds. Whenever they can they try to nap, but that’s a hard thing to do, especially in the wastes of Gorgoroth where sometimes the crevice of rock is all they can find for a resting place. Sam usually ends up dreaming that he’s gardening at Bag End (his happy place). Frodo’s consciousness, however, is eventually taken over by the tormenting image of Sauron’s flaming eyeball—a horrible wheel of fire that remains in his mind’s eye when he’s awake or asleep. In the end Frodo is turned into a Ring of Doom insomniac who’s slowly going insane, losing touch with all of his senses. He can’t remember anything about the Shire. Everything is growing dark.

After Sam and Frodo black out on Mount Doom, they’re rescued by the eagles and taken to Aragorn. The Dúnedan* uses his healing hands to put them into a kind of induced coma, sending them into a “sweet forgetfulness of sleep” that lasts almost two weeks. This is the perfect reward for their agonizing quest and feat of prolonged sleeplessness. When Sam awakens and listens to Gandalf’s laughter he realizes he hasn’t heard “the pure sound of merriment” for the longest time, and bursts into joyful tears. Sam is back to his old self again.

The real question for us is: how do we get more sleep in this busy world? The answer is quite simple. We need to reduce the number of distractions at night that chip away at our opportunities to get to bed at a decent hour. We have to stop looking at the Internet. Stop watching our TVs with their three hundred worthless channels. Stop torturing ourselves with worries. Just pretend kindly old Tom Bombadil is there in our room telling us, “We’ll talk about all the scary stuff in the morning.” And then get into bed and sleep like a Hobbit.

The Wisdom of the Shire Tells Us …

“Good sleep makes you healthy, happy and less likely to provoke the wrath of a dragon.”