The title of this post comes from the French original text of a favorite book of mine: Le Petit Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. In it, the author talks about how the person telling the story meets a fantastic being, the titular Little Prince, who comes from a tiny and far away planet. For me, the part of the narrative with the deepest meaning has always been the scene in which the Little Prince tames — that is, domesticates — a wild fox. The fox is, as far as I can make out, a stand-in for people as well as aspects of our own experience we fear. They could harm us, but if we manage to make friends with them, we will be much better off for it.
De Saint-Exupéry uses particularly poetic language, probably to make it accessible for children. And yet, with every reading as an adult, I still learn from it. Many times, I have been able to rephrase some aspect of my own life in the terms the book provides. Applying the wisdom offered by the domesticated fox at the end of the scene, gaining the ability to “see the world with my heart” as it were, has allowed me to incorporate initially hard to accept truths.
I will quote from the book in the original French, adding my interpretation and a few comments. When the Little Prince and the fox initially meet, the animal makes a request:
“S’il te plaît… apprivoise-moi!” dit-il.
“Je veux bien,” répondit le petit prince, “mais je n’ai pas beaucoup de temps. J’ai des amis à découvrir et beaucoup de choses à connaitre.”
“On ne connaît que les choses que l’on apprivoise,” dit le renard. “Les hommes n’ont plus le temps de rien connaître. Ils achètent des choses toutes faites chez les marchands. Mais comme il n’existe point de marchands d’amis, les hommes n’ont plus d’amis. Si tu veux un ami, apprivoise-moi!”
The fox explains that only that which goes through the process of taming, which takes time and effort, becomes truly known and a friend (ami). That is the value of “taming.” And I believe that this also applies to the wild parts of our own psyche, which we initially tend to reject. So, how does this taming come about? It is described as the deliberate process of establishing mutual benevolence, respect, trust, limits, and rituals. This allows for some natural and intuitive reliance on a relationship foundation to form over time. At the end of the scene, the Little Prince has successfully tamed the fox, and they say their good-byes:
“Adieu,” dit le renard. “Voici mon secret. Il est très simple: on ne voit bien qu’avec le coeur. L’essentiel est invisible pour les yeux.” (…) “Les hommes ont oublié cette vérité,” dit le renard. “Mais tu ne dois pas l’oublier. Tu deviens responsable pour toujours de ce que tu as apprivoisé.”
The secret offered by the fox is this: only by seeing with the heart can we genuinely perceive — whereas I consider that “les yeux” not only refers to one’s eyes, but also to the way in which our minds seem to perceive others and parts of ourselves: as unwelcome and dangerous. Many people seem to have forgotten how to perceive the world “from the heart.” If we are willing to look beyond that which our first impressions tell us about a person, we can, through the process of taming, add tremendous value to our life, by becoming friends with someone or one of our parts.
Over the past few decades, I have time and again made this experience. If I am willing to be patient, and go through this process of taming, of establishing mutual trust and respect, I can gain a lifelong relationship. Initially, it may seem like a tedious and undesirable process. Why spend so much time on anyone or any aspect of my experience that seems alien and unwanted? The answer lies in the quality of connection that I have been able to develop and hold with people and with myself. It has become a very rare occurrence when I feel unable to be present with pain, either in myself or others, and that is, I believe, ultimately the message the fox has to offer:
By taming one another, we become accustomed to seeing pain itself not so much as an undesirable and deplorable aspect of reality, but as a friend. Pain emanates from the same source as joy and love — but it comes in a guise that requires for us to look at it from the heart. Only then can we see it in its true form, and not reject it. And when we learn to do so, life will become genuinely blissful.