For as long as I can remember, I’ve turned to stories in my darkest moments.
Some people find comfort in religion, others in philosophy or self-help books.
But when my life collapsed—when my name became a weight I could barely carry, when I felt like there was no road forward—I turned to Middle-earth.
Because Tolkien didn’t just write about heroes.
He wrote about failure.
He wrote about people who fell, people who lost themselves, people who wandered for years before they found their way again.
And that’s why, when I found myself in Ukraine—navigating war zones, helping refugees cross into safety—I named my mission The Flaming Beacon. A name taken straight from Tolkien’s world, from the fires of Gondor, from that desperate call for aid in the darkest of hours.
Because that’s what Tolkien taught me:
🌒 No matter how deep the shadow, there is always light.
📌 The Power of Tolkien’s Stories: Downfall, Reinvention & Redemption
Tolkien’s world isn’t about perfect, untouchable heroes.
It’s about flawed, broken people trying to stand back up.
It’s about exile, failure, and redemption.
It’s about falling—but refusing to stay down.
🛡️ Boromir – The Fall & The Fight to Redeem Yourself
I’ve always felt something achingly human in Boromir.
He was strong, noble, a warrior—but he fell.
He let his pride, his desperation, his fear consume him.
Boromir wasn’t evil. He wasn’t a villain.
He was just a man who made a mistake—one that nearly cost everything.
“I tried to take the Ring from Frodo… I am sorry. I have paid.”
Boromir dies fighting.
He spends his last breath trying to protect the very people he once failed.
And in that moment, he isn’t just the man who fell.
He’s the man who got back up.
I’ve made mistakes. I’ve lost people’s trust.
I’ve carried the weight of public judgment on my back.
And for a long time, I thought my story was over.
But then I thought of Boromir.
Because your worst moment doesn’t have to be your final chapter.
You can still stand. You can still fight.
You can still reclaim who you were meant to be.
🔥 That’s what redemption looks like.
🧙 Gandalf – The One Who Walked Through Fire & Came Back Stronger
Gandalf fell into the abyss.
He died in darkness.
He was burned by fire and crushed by shadows.
And yet…
He came back.
Not as the same man, but as something greater.
“I have passed through fire and deep water, since we parted. I have forgotten much that I thought I knew, and learned again much that I had forgotten.”
I read that line and felt it in my bones.
There are things I’ve lost forever.
There are parts of me that will never be the same.
But what if that isn’t a bad thing?
What if the person I become after all this isn’t a broken version of my old self—but a stronger one?
Because the fire that nearly consumes you can also forge you.
🔥 Reinvention isn’t betrayal of who you were—it’s the fulfillment of who you were meant to be.
👑 Aragorn – Reclaiming the Name You Tried to Forget
For years, Aragorn lived in the shadows.
A wanderer. A Ranger. A man of many names.
But he was born with one name that carried immense weight: Elessar, the Elfstone. He was Isildur’s heir—but he didn’t chase the crown.
He bore the name Estel, Hope, in secret.
And when the truth of his lineage came to light, his mother, Gilraen, spoke a line that cuts deeper than any sword:
“I gave Hope to the Dúnedain, I have kept no hope for myself.”
That line.
Because sometimes, when the world sees you as a symbol of strength, you carry that strength for others—even when you feel none left inside yourself.
I’ve felt that.
I spent years running from my name.
I used aliases. I hid behind masks.
Not because I wanted to deceive—but because I didn’t believe I deserved to be seen.
But you can only run for so long.
At some point, you have to ask:
Who am I?
Not who the world says you are.
Not who the headlines scream.
Not even who your shame tells you to be.
But who you choose to become.
🔥 A name carries weight. You can carry it in shame—or reclaim it with purpose.
🍂 Frodo – Extraordinary Resilience Against the Darkness
Elrond once said, “The hobbit has shown extraordinary resilience to its evil.”
Frodo didn’t win because he was the strongest.
He didn’t win because he was the smartest.
He won because he endured.
There were moments he wanted to give up.
Moments when he told Sam he couldn’t go on.
Moments when he believed the burden would break him.
But he kept walking.
“Even the smallest person can change the course of the future.”
I’ve had days where I couldn’t move forward.
Nights where I wanted to disappear.
Mornings where it felt like breathing was an act of defiance.
But then I think of Frodo, staring into the black chasm of Mount Doom, with the Ring’s weight crushing him—and I tell myself:
🔥 Just take the next step.
Keep moving forward.
Because sometimes, survival itself is victory.
📌 How Tolkien’s Lessons Shaped My Own Journey
In Ukraine, I watched people lose everything.
I saw families shattered by war, faith tested by fire, and hope carried in trembling hands.
And I realized—Tolkien prepared me for this.
When I named my mission The Flaming Beacon, it wasn’t just a name.
It was a symbol.
A call to myself: Even in the darkest moments, there is still light to call upon.
I understood Boromir’s regret.
I felt Gandalf’s fire.
I struggled like Frodo.
I ran from my name like Aragorn.
But in the end—I chose not to be defined by the fall.
I chose to stand, to rise, to reclaim my name.
That journey—of losing everything, of walking through shadow, of clinging to hope even when I had none left—is what led me to write When All Other Lights Go Out.
It’s not just a book. It’s a reflection of every lesson Tolkien gave me—about failure, resilience, and the quiet strength it takes to keep going when the world believes you’re finished.
📢 I’m Slaven Vujic, and I stand by the lessons Tolkien gave me.
