From The Little Prince, part II
"Please- tame me!" he said.
"I want to, very much," the little prince replied. "But I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand."
"One only understands the things that one tames," said the fox. "Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends anymore. If you want a friend, tame me..."
"What must I do, to tame you?" asked the little prince.
"You must be very patient," replied the fox. "First you will sit down at a little distance from me - like that- in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every day..."
The next day, the little prince came back.
"It would have been better to come back at the same hour," said the fox. "If, for example, you come at four o'clock in the afternoon, then at three o'clock I shall begin to be happy. I shall feel happier and happier as the hour advances. At four o'clock, I shall already be worrying and jumping about. I shall show you how happy I am! But if you come at just any time, I shall never know at what hour my heart is to be ready to greet you...One must observe the proper rites..."
"What is a rite?" asked the little prince.
"Those also are actions too often neglected," said the fox. "They are what make one day different from other days, one hour from other hours. There is a rite, for example, among my hunters. Every Thursday they dance with the village girls. So Thursday is a wonderful day for me! I can take a walk as far as the vineyards. But if the hunters danced at just any time, every day would be like every other day, and I should never have any vacation at all."
..........................................................................................
Doesn't he write of friendship beautifully? The beginnings of relationships and the care of them...
But there's more...
............................................................................................
So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near-
"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."
"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you..."
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"Then it has done you no good at all!"
"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields."
...........................................................................................
(After the little prince looks at roses...)
And he went back to meet the fox.
"Goodbye," he said.
"Goodbye," said the fox. "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."
"What is essential is invisible to the eye," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.
"It is the time you have devoted to your rose that makes your rose so important."
"It is the time I have devoted to my rose-" said the little prince, so that he would be sure to remember.
"Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose..."
......................................................................................
Are you still with me?
(It's okay if you're sniffling. I do, too. Every time....)
I have some responsibilities that I've been neglecting, a tending of tamed roses that has been set aside carelessly. I realized it as I spent time with Kim this week; a long-time friendship that I just assume will always be there. And it will, I believe. But friendships...true and real friendships....should not be treated frivolously and forgotten.
Being a naturally gregarious person, sometimes I forget in meeting new people and having new experiences, that I need to take the time to be responsible for my roses. I forget, too, that taming is a two way street, and that I can let others care for me....
I don't know about you, but that's about all the deep thinking I can handle for a few days.
If you haven't read The Little Prince, or you haven't read it in a long while, may I encourage you to take a look at it? It may annoy the dickens out of you or completely mystify you; or, perhaps, it will sing to you and you'll read it again, and again, and again....
Friday, December 03, 2010
To establish ties
The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupery, is perhaps my very, very favorite book (after the Bible) in the world.
Have you read it?
If you've only read it once, you've probably decided it was the product of a delusional Frenchman, who drew amusing pictures. (Which, as I write that, probably explains why I'm drawn to it!)
I believe it's not a story to be read once and walked away from. It's much too complex. And it's not a story that makes any sense, whatsoever, so for those who are looking for plot, conflict and tidy resolutions, it is an incredibly frustrating book. But for those of us who have never really finished growing up, it's a comforting book.
I drove home from Billings on the interstate, yesterday and had two hours of uninterrupted time to think. (This is dangerous, let me warn you....I think better out loud, bouncing things off other people. Thinking to myself tends to muddle and muddy and tangle every little string of ponder, until my thoughts looks like a wad of junk that a 4 year old packed around in her pocket. Not pretty. When I think aloud, to a friend, the strings become bright and even though they meander, there's form; one could follow them back if needed.)
Anyway, I was thinking about friendships and how they are such essential, dear gifts, and how we sometimes squander them, like Kleenex from a new box. As though there will always be another one, fresh and clean, when one of the first gets raggedy and messy. And it reminded me of The Little Prince.
This is going to be a two (or maybe three) part post. It takes awhile to draw you to where I am...
Please be patient with me, and enjoy the beauty of De Saint-Exupery's writing.
From The Little Prince:
"Come and play with me," proposed the little prince. "I am so unhappy."
"I cannot play with you," the fox said. "I am not tamed."
................................................................................
"...I am looking for friends. What does that mean - tame?"
"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. "It means to establish ties."
"To establish ties?"
"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world...."
...........................................................................
"My life is very monotonous," he (the fox) said. "I hunt chickens; men hunt me. All the chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike. And, in consequence, I am a little bored. But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat..."
The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long time.
"Please- tame me!" he said.
Have you read it?
If you've only read it once, you've probably decided it was the product of a delusional Frenchman, who drew amusing pictures. (Which, as I write that, probably explains why I'm drawn to it!)
I believe it's not a story to be read once and walked away from. It's much too complex. And it's not a story that makes any sense, whatsoever, so for those who are looking for plot, conflict and tidy resolutions, it is an incredibly frustrating book. But for those of us who have never really finished growing up, it's a comforting book.
I drove home from Billings on the interstate, yesterday and had two hours of uninterrupted time to think. (This is dangerous, let me warn you....I think better out loud, bouncing things off other people. Thinking to myself tends to muddle and muddy and tangle every little string of ponder, until my thoughts looks like a wad of junk that a 4 year old packed around in her pocket. Not pretty. When I think aloud, to a friend, the strings become bright and even though they meander, there's form; one could follow them back if needed.)
Anyway, I was thinking about friendships and how they are such essential, dear gifts, and how we sometimes squander them, like Kleenex from a new box. As though there will always be another one, fresh and clean, when one of the first gets raggedy and messy. And it reminded me of The Little Prince.
This is going to be a two (or maybe three) part post. It takes awhile to draw you to where I am...
Please be patient with me, and enjoy the beauty of De Saint-Exupery's writing.
From The Little Prince:
"Come and play with me," proposed the little prince. "I am so unhappy."
"I cannot play with you," the fox said. "I am not tamed."
................................................................................
"...I am looking for friends. What does that mean - tame?"
"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. "It means to establish ties."
"To establish ties?"
"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world...."
...........................................................................
"My life is very monotonous," he (the fox) said. "I hunt chickens; men hunt me. All the chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike. And, in consequence, I am a little bored. But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat..."
The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long time.
"Please- tame me!" he said.
Monday, November 29, 2010
MNF
Tonight, my NFL team, the San Francisco 49ers, have the opportunity to show the world what they can do...
That would be: lose another game on national television.
And I predict, they'll do that very well.
I can't get the actual game on the computer, but I'll be agonizing over it on the crummy little GameTracker thingamabob that shows the plays long after they've happened. AND I'll try to listen on the SF radio station at the same time, because hometown announcers are the bomb! They don't feel badly at ALL, for telling the team how rotten they are. But there's nothing greater than a hometown announcer when a ball is stripped and the fumble is recovered and "HE'S RUNNING TO THE 10, TO THE 5, HE SCORES!!!! HOW WAS THAT FOR A PLAY, FOLKS!!!! (there's a flag on the play...)".
Monday Night Football used to be for the masses. Even people who didn't really particularly care for football were aware of it and grudgingly turned over the t.v. that night, in return for control of the chips and dip. When it was moved to ESPN, the common man without cable t.v. couldn't access it, except the way I do. (I know. You're thinking, "Who doesn't have cable???" I think there are about 200 of us, scattered across the globe.)
One of my friends bemoans this fact and says that when they look at the downfall of Western Civilization, they'll find this was the turning point. A bit dramatic, but I'm not completely convinced that isn't true!
Anyway, if you have ESPN, and you want to see some (let's just face it, here) sad football, join me for the game! Are you a football fan? Or a football widow/er? Or are you there for the food? (Hey! One of the great things about football fans is that they surround themselves with food, then get so wrapped up in the game that they forget to eat it. KaCHING!)
Sunday, November 28, 2010
A fresh look at gratitude...
The Farmer reads a lot of military sorts of blogs, when he's not feeding cows. I'm sure there's some significant symbolism there that I'm missing....
Anyway, two nights ago, he called me over to read this one:
http://lifeintheinfantry.blogspot.com/2010/11/what-am-i-thankful-for-quite-bit.html
A soldier who was stationed in Afghanistan not long ago, wrote about what he's thankful for. It took my breath away, and of course, brought tears of gratitude, both for his service and the blessings it secures for my family and country.
Please take the time to read it...
Anyway, two nights ago, he called me over to read this one:
http://lifeintheinfantry.blogspot.com/2010/11/what-am-i-thankful-for-quite-bit.html
A soldier who was stationed in Afghanistan not long ago, wrote about what he's thankful for. It took my breath away, and of course, brought tears of gratitude, both for his service and the blessings it secures for my family and country.
Please take the time to read it...
Sort of crazy
I run.
I'm not a "runner", however. I reserve that title for people who run marathons or more than 10 miles in a day, VOLUNTARILY. There's a big difference. Something snaps, in the psyche of a person who runs, and they become a runner...I don't understand it, nor do I want to. I just know they're different. And I can't decide if I admire them or fear them.
Anyway, this morning, I discovered that I've become one of those crazy people who runs in all sorts of awful weather. You know them. You see them bullheadedly chugging along in sleet, rain, snow...whatever wretched conditions....as you sit in your car with the heated seats up to their highest level, and you think, "Has she never heard of a treadmill? Hello! Man, NO-ONE could pay me enough to do that..." (And I can say this, because I DID that, once. And almost pulled over to give them a ride, thinking they were too stupid to know better...like some sort of athletic chicken.)
Running hurts, I won't lie to you. It stops hurting if you stick with it and becomes pretty darn uncomfortable. Then, if you really, really keep going, it feels so good that you think you could run forever. (I believe this is where the runners snap.) But when you stop, it's gonna go back to pretty darn uncomfortable. And sometimes, in the middle of the night, when a cramp grabs your arch, it hurts again. Or if you haven't run for a couple days...that can hurt.
I'm at the point of HAVING to run, almost daily....it's compulsive. My brain gets all folded in on itself, like a note from one Jr.high girl to another. My body gets hungry for the motion, and I get a feeling of restlessness, twitchy legs. And the treadmill is better than nothing, but it doesn't clean out the soul and free up the mind like running in fresh air.
This morning, when I was running with my head into the wind, eyes and nose streaming from the cold, ice crystals on my eyelashes from the moisture in the air, legs churning in the packed snow of the road and making dreadful time, I realized I had become one of those crazy people. What's worse is that I LIKED it. I had actually thanked my husband for plowing out the road, not so I could get the car out, but so that I could run!
If you see me this winter along the county road, it's okay to make eye contact. This sort of crazy won't rub off.
I'm not a "runner", however. I reserve that title for people who run marathons or more than 10 miles in a day, VOLUNTARILY. There's a big difference. Something snaps, in the psyche of a person who runs, and they become a runner...I don't understand it, nor do I want to. I just know they're different. And I can't decide if I admire them or fear them.
Anyway, this morning, I discovered that I've become one of those crazy people who runs in all sorts of awful weather. You know them. You see them bullheadedly chugging along in sleet, rain, snow...whatever wretched conditions....as you sit in your car with the heated seats up to their highest level, and you think, "Has she never heard of a treadmill? Hello! Man, NO-ONE could pay me enough to do that..." (And I can say this, because I DID that, once. And almost pulled over to give them a ride, thinking they were too stupid to know better...like some sort of athletic chicken.)
Running hurts, I won't lie to you. It stops hurting if you stick with it and becomes pretty darn uncomfortable. Then, if you really, really keep going, it feels so good that you think you could run forever. (I believe this is where the runners snap.) But when you stop, it's gonna go back to pretty darn uncomfortable. And sometimes, in the middle of the night, when a cramp grabs your arch, it hurts again. Or if you haven't run for a couple days...that can hurt.
I'm at the point of HAVING to run, almost daily....it's compulsive. My brain gets all folded in on itself, like a note from one Jr.high girl to another. My body gets hungry for the motion, and I get a feeling of restlessness, twitchy legs. And the treadmill is better than nothing, but it doesn't clean out the soul and free up the mind like running in fresh air.
This morning, when I was running with my head into the wind, eyes and nose streaming from the cold, ice crystals on my eyelashes from the moisture in the air, legs churning in the packed snow of the road and making dreadful time, I realized I had become one of those crazy people. What's worse is that I LIKED it. I had actually thanked my husband for plowing out the road, not so I could get the car out, but so that I could run!
If you see me this winter along the county road, it's okay to make eye contact. This sort of crazy won't rub off.
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