As my peripatetic fate beckons once again, I have been drawn to the voice of Mary Oliver. She roamed and wandered in her region of the cosmos, but she was attentive, respectful, and caring as she did so. In her early poem "Going to Walden," she responded to people that told her she must go, … Continue reading Mary Oliver: Going to Walden
I have enjoyed a leisurely weekend for the first time in several months. On Thanksgiving Day, I expressed gratitude to friends and family, but I stayed home. I slept late, drank coffee, made a simple breakfast, and read Kazantzakis's Zorba the Greek, to admire the dyonisian main character and to break with my overly apollonian … Continue reading Montaigne and Thoreau: Idle Joy
To my surprise, this year I discovered Michel de Montaigne as a good friend. I read his essay "Of Experience" with my students in a seminar on philosophy and the good life, and I felt really engaged by his attitude towards life. I particularly appreciate his hedonist view that nature weaves together what is truly … Continue reading Montaigne and Thoreau: Walking
For several months now, I have been keen to read, again, Henry David Thoreau's ideas about houses and homes in Walden. Now that it is summer and I have time to read in the shade while the heat blasts on, I have finally returned to reading my good ol' friend Henry. I had missed him, … Continue reading Thoreau: Economy
It has been a winter without snow in Brooklyn, this New York City borough geographically located in Long Island. The waters of the Atlantic must be warm because I've only seen a dusting, at the beginning of February. Yesterday, though, a few snowflakes fell in the afternoon, and that was enough to thrill me for … Continue reading Pennsylvania: After the Storm
El lunes salí a caminar al final de la tarde. Hice una caminata al estilo del ensayo "Walking" de Henry David Thoreau; es decir, con espíritu aventurero y espontáneo y sin rumbo definido. De hecho inicié mi recorrido como paseo urbano, ambulando por algunas calles de los barrios de Windsor Terrace y Park Slope. Sin … Continue reading Siguiendo a la Luna
Lao Tzu, Rumi, David, Emerson, Wordsworth, Gibran, and Mary Oliver have taught me, over the years, that I never finish reading a book of wisdom poetry. When I read the last psalm, song, or poem, I simply put the book down for a while--sometimes for a few years--until one day whim, genius, or spiritual thirst … Continue reading Mary Oliver: American Primitive
Sometimes reading takes us out "on a walk." For many years I had longed to return to the Egyptian-Lybian desert and to the hills of Tuscany by reading Michael Ondaatje's novel The English Patient (1992). About a month ago I was finally able to let Ondaatje's lyrical storytelling take me on that walk. I have … Continue reading The English Patient: Nationlessness and Namelessness
It is a cold, gray afternoon. Worries weigh on my mind like the nimbostratus, filled with rain, that hover over the land. In search of a wise, earthy voice, I seek Mary Oliver's poetry in my library. I come upon the poem "Just Lying on the Grass at Blackwater." These verses strike me as the … Continue reading Floral Simplicity
Last night October ended with a full moon showing its glowing face through a veil of cirrocumulus above Tárcoles. This morning, November arrived with a soft, luminous dawn over Cerro Turrubares. I welcomed it from my hammock at La Libélula. It felt like the quiet, solitary, peaceful beginning of a new vital cycle. Two writers … Continue reading Simplicity and Love
Daniel G. Campos 