time wasted

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“One only understands the things one tames,” the fox teaches.  In order to tame, one must be “very patient.”

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 fox asks the Little Prince to “tame” him, explaining that this means to establish ties. But even more than that, taming, will transform their relationship into something special, making the other unique in all the world. Then different things will remind them of each other, seeing  each other in other things, reflections reflected, a kaleidoscope of connections.

The fox then advises the Little Prince to observe “rites” that come at the same time everyday, these are the rituals that the Little Prince performs as markers of time; the days, the hours and the minutes that make each day distinct yet familiar.

“It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.”

from Mary Watkins,

Waking Dreams, Spring Publications Inc. 1984

and of course:

de Saint-Exupéry, A., Cummins, R., & Scoular, J. (1999). The little prince. Dramatic Publishing.

 

“We think by feeling. What is there to know?”

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I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.

I learn by going where I have to go.


We think by feeling.  What is there to know?

I hear my being dance from ear to ear.

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow


Of those so close beside me, which are you?

God bless the Ground!  I shall walk softly there,

And learn by going where I have to go.


Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?

The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.


Great Nature has another thing to do

To you and me; so take the lively air,

And, lovely, learn by going where to go.


This shaking keeps me steady.  I should know.

What falls away is always.  And is near.

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

I learn by going where I have to go.


exerpt from Theodore Roethke’s, “The Waking” from Collected Poems of Theodore Roethke (Doubleday, 1951).

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