The Literature of Walking

  In Tintern Abbey, Wordsworth suggests that nature allows him to “see into the life of things,” but that kind of transcendence depends on having the mental space to reflect. The idea of the “quiet eye” isn’t just about looking at nature, it’s about a mind that isn’t overwhelmed or distracted. Main feelings for him are pleasure and passion, and the repeated focus on “blood” and “eyes” shows how he thinks physical experience slowly turns into a transcendent understanding. But this   assumes that the speaker is able to think clearly, remember well, and sit with his thoughts long enough for this to happen.   This becomes more complicated when looking at Whitman, who celebrates openness, freedom of movement, and expansive thinking. However, That freedom, depends on an invisible privilege. The invisible privilege of being able-minded, and having a mind that isn’t constantly occupied by survival concerns like poverty, hunger, or fear. Whitman’s openness to the world comes fro...

       To preface, Whitman’s “Song of the Open Road” is perhaps the most resonant poem I have ever read; however, it reverberates in my memory as having relied on unrealistic and privileged conditions. Abandoning societal constructs and systems of imposed meaning sounds awesome, and is reminiscent of the Peace Pilgrim, but it is decidedly escapist in nature and depends on invisible privilege.  In the very beginning lines of the poem, Whitman declares walking on the open road as an exercise that is accessible to all: “The black with his wooly head, the felon, the diseas’d, the illiterate person, are not denied." Later on, he invokes both men and women, old people and young people. It seems he excludes mention of their actual limitations during this time period, which are undoubtedly prevalent, thus invalidating his philosophy. He also, midway through the poem, denies “diseas’d person(s), rum-drinkers, or venereal taint(s)” from walking with him as well as those...

     Reading Dorthy and William’s writings together produced an interesting reading experience for me. Dorothy’s writings detail the moments of their everyday lives, such as baking bread, wandering in the woods, sitting on rocks, and engaging in conversation with friends. She seems to be preoccupied with William and his wellbeing. She worries that he gets to bed too late, he is ill, and if he's experiencing a writing-block. Reading William’s poems before Dorothy’s journals was interesting because his attention, in the moments Dorothy describes, is so externally-focused. While Dorothy’s writing is of a more personal nature, William is writing to publish and to create art. This is the primary difference between their writings and is gender-conforming according to the expectations of the time. This difference is interesting to me and makes me think about what it would be like to be the sister of a famous writer.      He clearly derives inspiration from nature,...

  I often go on walks to solve problems. My mind usually drifts through the immediate problems organizing my weekly schedule, pondering on a discussion question from class, or deciding I should stop buying Oreos when I go to Aldi. But the most common problem by far I take to my walks is the problem of my audio mixes. I am a part of the local Bloomington/Indiana D.I.Y. music scene and it is where I pour almost all of my passion. I love doing it and part of being a D.I.Y. musician is having to produce all of my own music. Even if I could afford professional studio time and mixing, I think I’d still do it myself just to be in control and better my craft.  At some point in every song I find myself at a plateau in front of the computer screen and unable to figure out the minute problems in the mix. Is that guitar too hidden? Does the kick drum bury the bass in EQ? What’s that clicking noise? After so long everything starts to sound the same and solutions seem to disappear from my t...

When I was much younger, my family would attend, every Easter, a Passion in the Park performance. It was a live dramatization of the biblical passion narrative, starting with the Last Supper and ending, of course, with the resurrection. I was very young, 10 or 11 years old, and I distinctly remember being quite scared by the whole ordeal. For a devout child, who truly believed that Jesus was the son of God and had been sacrificed for our sins, and who truly believed He rose on the third day, the performance was an intensely disturbing one. Looking back now, I'm sure even if I weren't so religious I still would've been frightened: it was never quite The Passion of the Christ , but it certainly didn't shy away from the brutal realities of crucifixion and the gruesome anguish Jesus experienced on the way to Calvary Hill. I bring this up because our discussion about the Stations of the Cross this past week reminded me of it. My family was never Catholic, which meant we neve...

  A contemplative walking practice like the labyrinth and an activist like Martin Luther King Jr's marches both treat walking as meaningful, but they give meaning to different aspects of the experience. In a labyrinth, the walker follows a predetermined, winding path that often feels disorienting and frustrating. The walker can see the center and be led far away from it, emphasizing patience and trust in a process that is not linear. The value lies within the inner awareness, noticing thoughts, emotions, and spiritual moments while progressing toward a symbolic center. MLK's civil rights marches share this emphasis on process and perseverance. In "Our God Is Marching On!" he describes the journey to justice as having "no broad highways," meaning a narrow and difficult path is ahead. Having that narrow path is similar to the confined course of a labyrinth. Both models accept struggle, detours, and uncertainty while keeping a clear end in sight. Walking reall...

     To play pilgrim for a day I ventured east of Bloomington with my partner into the rolling hills of Brown county. A few minutes after winding across the county line a giant painting easel on the side of the road held a blue arrow pointing us off the main road. At the top of the hill, in late January, wind tore through the leafless hickories and maples to welcome us to the T.C. Steele State Historic Site. Behind a modern visitor’s center and parking lot a shallow red home wrapped in a deck and matching barn lie surrounded by dormant rock gardens. We checked into the visitor’s center and found out we are the sole pilgrims to the Steele home that day.       We walked through the gardens and under a trellis consumed by wisteria into the main house. Opening the large wooden door a tour guide leads us into the living room. Before we take any more steps further we are informed that everything in the house is a historical artifact. Nothing in the home had ...