About me (reprise)
Since I moved to CO at the end of June, I keep thinking it’s vital to update the “about me” thingy. And then keep forgetting. This week I finally got around to checking on it and was surprised at how little needs changing, even though everything has changed.
The girls. Their ages. That’s the only things I had to fix on that page, despite the rest of my life being deliciously unrecognizable from a year or two ago.
This reminds me of a quote from The Little Prince:
On ne voit bien qu’avec le cœur. L’essentiel est invisible pour les yeux.
If, like me, your high school French is the right level of rusty to only figure out most of those words, this translates to:
“One sees clearly only with the heart. What is essential is invisible to the eye.”
If you have not read this book– well, first, shame on you– the entire story is a good reminder of invisible essentials.
In my head, my blog profile centered around living in the desert, feeling transplanted. When I read it, I’d mentioned nothing about those things. Or maybe had removed them. Or maybe never included them. Now that I’m living somewhere life makes sense to me again, who knows what was going through my head whenever I wrote that. It’s all a blur.
As unsettled as I’ve felt over the past — uh, decade– that’s not how I described myself to the outside world. I only mentioned the essentials. The invisibles.
Writing. Painting. My husband. The girls. The things that have tamed me; the things I have tamed.
“Men,”said the fox, “They have guns, and they hunt. It is very disturbing. They also raise chickens. These are their only interests. Are you looking for chickens?”
“No,” said the little prince. “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 said. “I hunt chickens; men hunt me. All 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.