wind in the wheat
The second piece of The Wilderness Collection
Warp and weft: hand painted Saltwater Rose tencel
Woven with Paradisaea’s trademark Sun Twill
One of the most beautiful dialogues in literature, if you ask me, is the one between the Fox and the Little Prince - written by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. It’s also one of the most beautiful parables of love I’ve ever read or heard.
The Little Prince has landed on the Earth on his journey trough space, and is in need of a friend. Somewhere in the outskirts of an African desert he meets the Fox - and the Fox suggests that the Prince tames him instead:
"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 . . ."
"I am beginning to understand," said the little prince. "There is a flower . . . I think that she has tamed me . . ."
“If you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life”, said the fox. "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.
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." And then he added:
"Go and look again at the roses. You will understand now that yours is unique in all the world. Then come back to say goodbye to me, and I will make you a present of a secret."
"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.
Love is such a strange thing. Having children makes it even stranger. I’ve often felt like the Fox - just… tamed. These little creatures, Princes, Princesses came along and simply took my heart and tucked it in their pockets, and strange strings attach me forever to them. To love is to be tamed. To be tamed is to let go of control, to let someone else control you, to give someone else the permission to move your heart, to steal it. I’ve often felt like the Fox - I cannot help but love these little creatures, even when it sometimes is the most challenging thing I’ve ever done, even when I feel completely inadequate or overwhelmed.
They’ve tamed me. They control my heart. I’m theirs.
And... It’s a strange thing to love someone who’ll eventually leave you. Having children means that I’m helplessly in love with people who’ll eventually take off, fly away with their own wings - and that’s how it’s supposed to be. Already now I understand that there is possibly pain involved; longing, even sadness. But the Fox was so wise. He didn’t shy away from love just to keep his heart safe; he knew he’d gain something wonderful even if the Prince would leave.
He’d gain the golden colour of the wheat fields - the memories of a soul who has been loved, who has loved.
The memories of someone who has let herself or himself be tamed.
The Wilderness Collection is about challenges; deserts that change us, eventually for the better. I found myself thinking about the golden colour of the wheat fields when I was weaving with the golden tencel weft of this second piece of the warp, and decided that it’s a really fitting picture.
One of the great challenges of parenting is to let yourself be tamed. To really let your heart love, even if you anticipate the pain of letting go. But that kind of a love will change you,
and you’ll gain
the wind in the wheat fields.