“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeing new
landscapes but in having new eyes”
“Le veritable voyage
de decouverte ne consiste pas a chercher de nouveaux paysages, mais a avoir de
nouveaux yeux”
(Marcel Proust)
This was on the front of a Bon Voyage card I brought with me to France (Merci, Michael) and
not that I’m in the habit of second guessing French philosophers or anything, I
found it surprisingly pertinent when reflecting on how things are going after
my first quiet weekend here in the land of cheese and pastries (copy right:
Emma Christie, 2012). After a bout of homesickness arriving too early for my
liking, I have begun my week according to what I think it means to have new eyes:
1.
Try to see things afresh, appreciating value or
beauty you did not before.
2.
Be more open minded, not acting on preconceptions,
but being willing to look again and
to try
3.
Adapt. The necessary change is internal. You can’t
control a situation, but you can determine the experience it becomes.
No doubt Proust would tell me I’m complétement folle, but
we’re all allowed an opinion (this is the pays
de liberté et d’egalité after all) and be it accurate or not, it has set
forth a plan of action for the days ahead….
I am appreciating the small (and seemingly trivial) things,
such as the pleasure of my daily routine. From my morning cup of tea to going
for a weekly swim, recognising that I
can observe some old habits helps me in a small way to feel settled.
Paradoxically, I am also going to be more open-minded to change.
Those who are or have previously been away from home will
know that one sorry effect of le mal du
pays is a sudden and incomprehensible despair that transforms even minor
problems into a major life crisis. For me, the realisation that I can’t get
around as easily as I am used to, or would have liked. The response? Either
resolve myself to becoming a hermit, or make the most of things. The latter is probably preferable. Yes, the location is slightly more isolated
than would have been ideal but you can reach essential locations on foot, and
if you can locate a bike even better! What’s more, small town = more likely you
will recognise your neighbours/the people who work in the post office. Besides,
every time you visit friends in similar settings you comment on the
tranquillity… enjoy!
(This was the
conversation I had with myself this morning, somewhat ironically to convince myself that I
would soon have other people to talk to). I have also renewed my determination
to try. This means persistence in
speaking French even if those around me think I’m not capable and I myself have
severe doubts as to how comprehensible I am, and looking for and acting on
opportunities to meet people.
Finally, I am determined to see things in a more
positive light. A perfect opportunity for this came during a much needed
conversation with my good friend Lauren.Despairing at some of the faux-pas we
have both made over the last few days French-wise, we found ourselves giggling
at our inadequacies. For Lauren, the inability to pronounce the notoriously
tricky accuellir which turned out to
be very useful and thus left a lot of people rather confused. For myself, an
embarrassing moment at the bank when I failed to remember the French alphabet
for long enough to give someone my email address. Apparently ‘.co.uk’ is beyond
my linguistic ability. We were also able to share in the hilarity of the all
too frequent moment in a conversation when you lose track of what someone is
saying and resort to nodding excessively as if to convince that tu comprends even though it is probably
perfectly obvious from your blank expression and widened eyes that you were
lost a few miles back.
All be it lacking the elegance of Proust, you could say my
take on avoir de nouveaux yeux comes
down to giving things a go, staying positive, and recognising that, sometimes,
the best thing to do is laugh.
