An Annual Trip to Middle-Earth: A Tradition Worth Holding Onto

Every year, I make my annual trip back to Middle-earth with my friends, and every year, I realize just how much I need it.

This Lord of the Rings marathon isn’t just a movie weekend. It’s something we all genuinely look forward to. It’s a tradition rooted in comfort, familiarity, and connection. For a few days, time slows down. The outside world quiets. Middle-earth fills the room, and for a little while, everything feels steadier.

My love for Tolkien’s world began when I was a child, first introduced through the The Hobbit cartoon from the 1970s. Later, as a teenager, my stepdad gave me The Hobbit and the The Lord of the Rings book series. I was such a bookworm. I loved escaping into books, into worlds where good and evil were clearly defined, where bravery mattered, and where even the smallest characters had purpose.

Books were my refuge.

When the movies were released, I fell in love all over again. Seeing Middle-earth brought to life took my breath away. To this day, it remains one of my favorite movie trilogies of all time. (Though I will forever wish Tom Bombadil had made it into the films.)

Every year during our marathon, we fully commit, not just to the movies, but to the experience. That includes Hobbit meals, because what is a journey through Middle-earth without honoring the way Hobbits eat?

We begin with breakfast: eggs, bacon, sausage, and toast.

Second breakfast brings apple muffins.

Elevenses is coffee cake and tea, no exceptions.

Lunch is simple and warm: soup.

Afternoon tea comes with gingerbread cookies.

Dinner is hearty and comforting,stew, chicken, and mashed potatoes.

And yes, we had all the potatoes.

Boil ’em. Mash ’em. Stick ’em in a stew.

Samwise Gamgee would absolutely approve.

These meals bring laughter and lightness. They make the marathon immersive and joyful. They remind us that nourishment, both physical and emotional, matters.

But there is one moment every year when the room goes quiet.

At the end of The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, Sam’s monologue to Frodo always makes me tear up. No matter how many times I’ve seen it, it reaches something deep within me. As a survivor, it speaks directly to the parts of me that once felt too tired to keep going.

I never rush this scene. I never talk over it. I let it speak.

“Frodo: I can’t do this, Sam.

Sam: I know. It’s all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are. It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.

Frodo: What are we holding onto, Sam?

Sam: That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo… and it’s worth fighting for.”

Every year, when the marathon ends and Middle-earth fades back into memory, I’m reminded why this tradition matters so much to me. As a survivor, there were times in my life when simply continuing felt impossible, when the road ahead looked too heavy, too dark, too long. But stories like these, moments like these, and the people I share them with remind me that endurance doesn’t always look heroic. Sometimes it looks like showing up, staying, and holding on. Returning to Middle-earth each year isn’t about escaping reality, it’s about remembering that even after darkness, there is light, that companionship matters, and that there is still good in this world. And that good is always worth fighting for. 🌿✨