“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.”  – Marcel Proust, Remembrance of Things Past

Barns can be a popular subject for photographers. They shoot them in every light and from every angle. They don’t wait for a sunny day when the storm in the night offers the best shot.

Legend has it the barn above was built in 1913 by Thomas Mouton and his sons on what is now part of Grand Teton National Park. It is featured in more photos than any barn in the world.

Grand Teton National Park is also home to the Laurance Rockefeller Preserve, a 1,106 acre refuge designed for the visitor’s spiritual and emotional connection with Nature. The new welcome center set the perfect interpretative tone for our immersion by painting this large quote on a wall.

“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.”

I was puzzled by the words of Marcel Proust as we hiked the Preserve, sat on its benches and gazed at Albright Peak reflected in the clear waters of Phelps Lake. I hadn’t thought about “new eyes” as something I would need to pack for the travels my wife and I planned for our retirement years.

I wondered if Proust was telling me to be more like the photographers with their different equipment for the pictures they would take. Maybe he wanted us to look at the world in different types of light and from more angles, even use a different lens when that would help. Maybe he wanted us to see more than the landscapes of daily life. Maybe he wanted us to have new eyes to view the same panorama in new ways.

I tried Proust’s advice later when we went to Moulton Barn. I wanted to see more than an old vacant shed. My new eyes let me visualize the world of the father and his sons as they went about their work. I saw the boys’ mother in her home, still on her feet after the men’s daily chores were done. I saw seasons when their barn was full and when it was not. I saw the barn doors left open so the animals could get inside when the storms sweep up between the Tetons and the Gros Ventre.

My new eyes expanded my short time in the Tetons in ways I would not have noticed without Proust.

From now on, I’ll use my new eyes to find more stories than the postcards can tell. I want to be like the artists who search out the different angles, in different light.

I want my new eyes to see the social, economic, cultural, and even weather differences on our travels, both out in the world and around my hometown.

New eyes will take you to different landscapes. It is better to have looked from all angles, in every light before forming opinions for your story.

Can you tell me of times you have wanted, even needed, new eyes? Tell me about wanting to see what your friends (especially your enemies) see when they look at the different barns in their world. Why is their view so much different than yours?

How would your voyages in life be changed if you had new eyes?

As always the conversation starts here.

“In the ordinary choices of every day we begin to change the direction of our lives.” – Eknath Easwaran

Epilogue

What does the Moulton Barn say to you? What stories could it tell? What about the stories it would not want to share – the ones that stay hidden until we look with new eyes?