Max Littman, LCSW
January 23, 2025
The first time I saw The Lord of the Rings trilogy in theaters, I was in my early teens, and it transported me not just to Middle-earth, but to deep places within my psyche that I continue to frequently visit and find myself in. I remember being wide-eyed with wonder, feeling connected to an expansive, mysterious, and fantastic universe. Echoes of this experience are recurrent with each rewatch. Although initially I was drawn to the grand scale battles, the stunning landscapes, and the humanity of the characters, what really stayed with me was the embodiment of what I’ve now come to know as parts and Self energy.
Our parts are often awakened when we consume stories through visual media. They resonate with characters, story arcs, scenarios, dialogue, images, sounds, music, and more. Self energy can be sparked, felt, and accessed through film as well.
Even during my first viewings of The Lord of the Rings, I believe parts of me were responding to the story in ways I didn’t yet have an approximate language for. Now, as an adult and a therapist, I can more clearly see how moments, characters, and specific lines from these films show up in my own inner world and in the way I understand, relate to, and engage with clients. I invite you into an exploration of how these films can be expressions of our parts and Self energy.
Buried Burdens and the Passage of Time
The opening sequence of The Fellowship of the Ring, narrated by Galadriel, sets the stage with haunting specificity. As she recounts the history of the One Ring, how it was forged, lost, and faded from collective memory, we see how history becomes myth and eventually seeps out of living memory. Galadriel’s words, “And some things that should not have been forgotten were lost. History became legend, legend became myth, and for two and a half thousand years, the Ring passed out of all knowledge,” resonate deeply for me as a metaphor for how personal, ancestral, and cultural burdens can fade into obscurity over time. Parts carrying these burdens can sink into the shadows, exiled by the passage of years, the layers of life’s complexity, and protective parts focused on getting by in life. In therapy, I often witness clients rediscovering these forgotten burdens, recognizing the ways these burdens have morphed their lives from beneath the surface. Just as the Ring’s reemergence disrupts the balance of Middle Earth, unearthing these hidden burdens can feel both destabilizing and profoundly necessary for healing.
The Fire Inside the Ring: Chaos, Overwhelm, and the Courage to Face It
During the Council of Elrond, as the heroes argue about what should be done with the Ring, anger, fear, and mistrust swirl between them. Frodo looks down at the Ring and sees flames reflected in its surface, engulfing the arguing council. The arguing voices blur and fade, overtaken by the crackling, consuming fire inside the Ring. Parts of me resonate with this moment, this experience of chaos and overwhelm, the sense of being engulfed, lost in a storm of voices, emotions, and energy that feel inescapable.
For me, this scene evokes how burdened parts can feel when their emotions or fears take over. The chaos isn’t just external; it’s internal, roaring through our system like wildfire. When I observe Frodo in this moment, I recognize parts of myself that have felt similarly overwhelmed, caught in the heat of too much emotion, too much conflict, and too much responsibility.
And yet, in the midst of this overwhelm, Frodo does something extraordinary. He steps forward and softly, almost inaudibly says, “I will take the Ring”. It’s a quiet act of courage that feels overwhelming and powerful, not in a chaotic way, but dutiful and caring. He is the smallest and most vulnerable being in the scene and he steps forward because he sees that the internal systems of those around him cannot bear the weight, the burden of taking the Ring to the dangerous lands of Mordor. The council’s protective parts’ reactions show they are not the right ones to take on the burden. Frodo doesn’t know how he’ll carry the burden, only that he must. He admits he does not know the way to Mordor, but he will be the one to carry the Ring there.
These moments at the Council of Elrond remind me that healing is not about avoiding the fire but holding space for the fear, any urge to avoid it, and accessing the courage to face it, guided by something larger than the chaos. It’s a reminder that even in our smallest, most vulnerable moments, we are capable of immense courage and that, with support, the flames we fear can be faced.
The Fellowship: Parts in Conflict, Unity in Purpose, and the Power of Collective Self Energy
One of the most compelling aspects of The Lord of the Rings is the Fellowship itself. Nine individuals from different walks of life, each with their own motivations, strengths, and weaknesses, united by a common goal: to destroy the Ring and bring peace to Middle-earth. On the surface, the Fellowship is a diverse group, each member carrying their own burdens and dealing with personal and ancestral struggles. There are moments of disagreement, mistrust, and even outright conflict between them. But despite these differences, they are bound by a singular mission and, in many ways, embody the dynamics of an internal system of parts.
In IFS, our parts when organized around burdens often conflict with each other. They may have different views, priorities, or fears, which can lead to internal tension. Protectors clash with other protectors, exiles feel unseen, and managers battle with firefighters. Yet, much like the members of the Fellowship, these parts are often working toward the same goal of protection, safety, or some form of healing, even if the ways they go about it differ. The key is recognizing that these internal conflicts, while challenging, are ultimately rooted in a shared desire to protect us from vulnerability.
Take, for example, the relationship between Aragorn and Boromir. Their clash in the first film is one of the most charged moments of the Fellowship. Boromir’s desire to use the Ring for the good of Gondor stands in direct opposition to Aragorn’s commitment to its destruction. Both parties believe they are protecting something vital, Gondor’s survival and the world’s safety, but their methods and beliefs are at odds. The intensity of their conflict mirrors the tension between parts in our own systems, as different protector parts fight for what they believe is the best course of action.
Yet, just as the Fellowship continues to move forward, despite these internal conflicts, the ultimate goal remains the same: to protect the world from Sauron’s darkness. The Fellowship represents the possibility that parts can work toward the same goal, even if they’re initially at odds with one another. Their struggle isn’t just about individual needs, it’s about the larger, collective purpose. When parts recognize that they are protecting the same vulnerability, they often begin to find common ground, despite their differences.
In many ways, the Fellowship also embodies Self energy. When Self energy is present, there is an ability to see the bigger picture, to hold space for the conflicting needs and emotions of different parts, and to guide the system forward with compassion, clarity, courage, and understanding. Even in the most tense moments, when conflict seems insurmountable, Self energy can hold the space for healing and unity.
The relational field within the Fellowship sparks Self energy in much the same way that a therapist-client relationship can. In therapy, the presence of Self energy helps to create a safe space for parts to interact, to be heard, and to begin the work of healing and integration. The Fellowship’s strength lies not in its members’ individual actions, but in how they come together, each bringing their unique qualities into the group dynamic while holding onto their shared goal. This unity in purpose is what ultimately propels them forward, even through their most difficult moments.
The Fellowship reminds us that even in the midst of internal conflict, there is power in coming together with a shared purpose. When parts can align with Self energy, they can find a way to move forward, not in spite of their differences, but because of them. It’s through that relational connection, that willingness to support one another despite conflicting needs, that can set the stage for true healing and transformation, whether within a group, a system, or within ourselves.
The Patience of Self Energy
When Gandalf pauses in the Mines of Moria, he stands with three cave chambers before him, puzzled about which path to take. Rather than rushing, he just stops, rests patiently for what is portrayed as hours, and waits until clarity comes to him. That scene frequently plays in my mind’s eye when I am uncertain what path to take in my own life or when at choice points with clients in session. For my system, Gandalf’s pause is a clear reflection of what it’s like to access Self energy: a still, grounded, patient place where answers eventually emerge. I find myself accessing this wisdom and this embodiment of patient Self energy often when I am with clients.
Compassion for Disliked Parts and Self Leadership in Dark Times: Frodo, Gollum, and the Wisdom of Gandalf
Frodo, overwhelmed by Gollum’s manipulation and unpredictability, confesses to Gandalf, “I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had ever happened.” Frodo also admits, “I wish Bilbo had killed Gollum when he had the chance.” These moments emanate frustration and deep weariness as Frodo grapples with the burden of the Ring and the frightening, annoying creature who seems to serve as constant reminder of perilous times.
Frodo’s desire for Gollum’s death isn’t just a reflection of personal anger, it’s a cry out for relief from a situation that feels impossible. It’s the kind of internal reaction we often have toward parts we deeply dislike, those exiled parts or protectors who, despite their painful or disruptive behaviors, seem to be constantly in our way. We often wish these parts didn’t exist, that we could be rid of them, and that our internal landscape could be free of their influence. In these moments, we too may wish we could get rid of those parts, the ones that seem dangerous, deceitful, or out of control. But as Gandalf wisely points out in his response to Frodo, “Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. Even the very wise cannot see all ends.”
Gandalf’s wisdom echoes the deep compassionate stance of Self energy toward the parts we most wish to ignore or eliminate. Rather than agreeing with Frodo’s desire to rid himself of Gollum, Gandalf speaks to the complexity of existence and the deep value of every part, even those that seem most disliked or threatening. He goes on to tell Frodo, “It is not our abilities that show what we truly are… it is our choices.” This line is a poignant reminder that, while we can’t always control the parts that emerge or the circumstances we face, we do have a choice in how we respond. And it’s in this moment of choice that Self energy can be given the opportunity to lead, even in the darkest times.
Even when parts are difficult to love or are deeply misunderstood, whether they are exiles holding onto past trauma or protectors guarding against vulnerability, we have the ability to lead from a place of compassion, recognizing that these parts, no matter how unpleasant, are trying to serve a purpose. They are holding onto something, be it protection, survival, or simply an old, ingrained story. Just as Gandalf urges Frodo to consider the choices available to him, we can choose to respond to our parts with patience and understanding.
This moment between Gandalf and Frodo also speaks to the external world, where dark times seem to be ever-present, and where our parts often reflect the fear, anger, and despair that we feel about the world around us. In times of crisis, both internal and external, it can feel impossible to maintain compassion for parts that seem to resist change or sabotage our efforts toward healing. But, like Gandalf, we can be called to choose our response, not from a place of judgment, but from a place of wisdom and understanding.
Gandalf’s often cited statement, “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us”, can remind us that our work with parts is a matter of choice. We may not have control over every part that emerges, nor can we always predict how we’ll feel in difficult moments, but we can have a choice in how we meet them. We can choose to lead with compassion, to take the time to understand the needs of each part, and to welcome them into a more cohesive, balanced system.
Galadriel and Aragorn: Embodiments of Self Leadership
Aragorn folding Frodo’s hand over the Ring instead of taking it for himself has always struck me as a moment of profound Self-leadership. What resonates most is the trust Aragorn places in Frodo to carry his own burden, even when Frodo tempts him with the Ring by offering it to him outright. Aragorn could have responded with force, reassurance, or the kind of strong-willed guidance that might feel instinctively “right” in the moment. Instead, he resists those impulses, putting aside whatever his own parts might need, whether that’s the desire for power, control, or even the comfort of feeling like he’s “helping” Frodo in a more direct way.
In that act, Aragorn prioritizes the greater good, of the Fellowship, of Middle-earth, and of Frodo’s own journey, over any personal desire or part-driven reaction. For me, this moment feels like a clear embodiment of Self-leadership: grounded, trusting, and fully present. It reminds me of the kind of leadership I aim for when sitting with clients: trusting their inner wisdom, even when parts of me might want to step in, guide, or fix. Like Aragorn, Self-leadership is about staying connected to clarity, courage, and compassion, while holding space for all that arises within and between us, even when the pull of other impulses feels strong.
Another scene that resonates deeply with me as an expression of Self leadership is Galadriel’s test. When she faces the temptation of the Ring and ultimately refuses it, it’s a moment layered with complexity and meaning. Her words,“I pass the test. I will diminish, and go into the West, and remain Galadriel” are often seen as a declaration of strength, but they also reflect the inner process of engaging with a deeply burdened part of herself. When she imagines what she could become a powerful, dark, and terrible queen, it’s as if a part of her fully blends with her. She shifts from being gentle and soft to being loud, terrifying, and beaming of a violent, bright light. Rather than rejecting or exiling this part, she allows it to emerge, to express itself fully, and meets it with understanding and compassion.
In doing so, Galadriel demonstrates an act of Self-leadership. She doesn’t push it away or try to suppress it. She lets it take up space. She bears witness to its fears and desires without becoming consumed by them. She holds space for the part to show itself and, through this act of acknowledgment, she seems to help it unburden. Her refusal of the Ring is not a rejection of the part’s concerns or temptations but rather a demonstration of trust in her own inner balance. She doesn’t need to grasp at power or control because she remains connected to her deeper sense of Self.
This moment often comes to mind when I’m working with clients whose protectors blend with them so strongly that it feels like they’re taken over. Galadriel’s test offers a powerful metaphor for how blending doesn’t have to lead to rejection or exile. Instead, it can become an opportunity to engage with the part, listen to its fears and burdens, and offer it compassion. Like Galadriel, we can stay in relationship to Self energy while allowing parts to be fully seen and heard, creating the conditions for trust, connection, and unburdening.
Hope Merchanting
One of the most powerful scenes in The Lord of the Rings is the lighting of the beacons of Gondor. The sight of flames leaping from one mountaintop to the next, traversing vast and impossible distances, always leaves me in awe and feeling so hopeful. For me, it’s a striking metaphor for the way healing and connection can spread through our internal systems. When one part of us is met with curiosity or compassion, it can spark a chain reaction, illuminating areas of our inner world that may have felt isolated or stuck in darkness.
I once shared this metaphor with a client who had a manager part seek outside help by bringing him to therapy. This part knew it couldn’t handle everything alone and reached out for support, hoping to find someone who could help guide the system. I explained how this part’s decision to seek help was like the first beacon being lit, a courageous act that signaled a desire for connection, understanding, and healing. That initial flame didn’t need to solve everything; its role was simply to start the process, creating the conditions for other parts to feel safe enough to step forward and be seen, heard, and understood.
As we worked together, we invited curiosity and compassion into the system, which allowed more parts to feel seen and heard. Just like the beacons spreading light across Gondor’s mountains, one small act of courage rippled through the system, igniting moments of clarity, hope, and connection. This metaphor helped my client see that healing doesn’t require fixing everything at once, it can start with one flame, one moment of trust or openness, and can build from there. Self-leadership emerges not by overriding parts but by honoring their courage and creating space for their voices, one by one, to light the way.
The Fall of Sauron: How Unburdening Can Feel
When Sauron is finally defeated and the One Ring is cast into the fires of Mount Doom, the collapse of his tower and the explosion of Sauron’s Eye feel seismic, like a whole world shifts in an instant. For me, this moment resonates deeply with what unburdening can sometimes feel like in IFS work.
There’s a power and an energy in that moment that simulates the sheer intensity of unburdening. Parts that have held on for so long sometimes release their burdens in an almost explosive way. Unburdening can be a full-body experience that is raw, cathartic, and filled with energy. And just like the fall of Sauron, unburdening can feel both liberating and disorienting. As the Eye falls, there’s relief, awe, and a little bit of “What happens now?”
But what I am addressing here isn’t just about a big cinematic moment. When a burdened part lets go, it sends ripples through our internal world, much like the shockwaves of Sauron’s collapse ripple across Middle-earth. Some parts may feel relief while others feel confusion or concern. Parts that have been hidden or exiled may come forward, needing care and attention as the old system of control dissipates.
Possibility comes after unburdenings, similar to the fall of Sauron. When the One Ring is destroyed, there’s this sense that Middle-earth itself can finally heal. In the same way, unburdening creates space in our internal world for Self energy to fill the space. Calm, clarity, connection, and other qualities that parts have been yearning for can finally naturally flow to where they belong.
Unburdening can feel dramatic and messy, like a tower crumbling into fire. Through that tumbling down comes the freedom to rebuild, to regrow, to heal, and to create something new. It’s a reminder that even when the process feels overwhelming, the outcome can be a return home to harmony, balance, and connection within ourselves.
Conclusion
The Lord of the Rings trilogy offers a rich look at how our parts can show up in times of challenge and how Self energy can guide us through difficult moments. Watching Middle-earth’s heroes face adversity, navigate their internal and external conflicts, and embrace their roles as leaders and bearers of burdens, we see examples how Self energy, Self leadership, and honoring all our parts can help our parts to unburden and come into harmony with each other, other systems, and beyond.
For feedback and comments, I can be reached at max@maxlittman.com.
I provide private practice mentorship, consultation, and therapist/practitioner part intensives.
