Rediscovering Ephesus: Why Every City Needs a Philosopher's Trail

This summer, I returned to Ephesus after 45 long years. What I found was not only a magnificent open-air museum of civilization but also a sacred space for reflection.

As I walked among the marble ruins, stood before the grand façade of the Celsus Library, and traced the ancient paths once traveled by Stoics, early Christians, and merchants from distant lands, I found myself not just remembering—but thinking.

It reminded me of another place: Philosopher’s Way in San Francisco.

Philosopher’s Way is a 2.7-mile contemplative loop in John McLaren Park, created by artists Peter Richards and Susan Schwartzenberg. Designed not just for walking but for thinking while walking, it features 14 “musing stations”—beautifully placed granite stones inscribed with quotations, photographs, and philosophical reflections.

It’s a modern tribute to the great tradition of peripatetic philosophy—Socrates in Athens, Rumi in Konya, or Nishida in Kyoto.

Ephesus, with its monumental past, offers a similar experience on a larger and older scale. When I sat at the ancient amphitheater or walked through the quiet remains of temples, I could almost hear the voices of philosophers, poets, prophets, and pilgrims.

These are not just stones and ruins—they are stations of reflection.

What touched me most is that such historical sites—and thoughtful trails like Philosopher’s Way—can nurture our mind, spirit, and body.

In a time when cities are defined by noise, speed, and distraction, places that invite us to slow down and reflect are more necessary than ever.

We need philosopher’s trails in our cities—not just for tourists, but for everyday citizens. Imagine trails in our parks, campuses, or near historical monuments with signs that invite reflection on justice, beauty, nature, or memory.

Such trails don’t have to be grand or costly. What matters is the intention—to create public spaces that connect us not only to nature and history, but to ourselves and each other.

Returning to Ephesus reminded me that the ancient world still speaks—if we are quiet enough to listen.

Let us create new places that make such listening possible.

— Ibrahim Özdemir
Philosopher | Educator | Environmentalist