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At Every Moment You Choose Yourself. But Do You Choose *your* Self? Body And Soul Contain A Thousand Possibilities Out Of Which You Can Build Many I's. But In One Of Them Is There A Congruence Of The Elector And The Elected. Only One--which You Will Never Find Until You Have Excluded All Those Superficial And Fleeting Possibilities Of Being And Doing With Which You Toy, Out Of Curiosity Or Wonder Or Greed, And Which Hinder You From Casting Anchor In The Experience Of The Mystery Of Life, And The Consciousness Of The Talent Entrusted To You Which Is Your *i*.

-Dag Hammarskjold

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At Every Moment You

Dag Hammarskjold

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At Every Moment You Choose Yourself. But Do You Choose *your* Self? Body And Soul Contain A Thousand Possibilities Out Of Which You Can Build Many I's. But In One Of Them Is There A Congruence Of The Elector And The Elected. Only One--which You Will Never Find Until You Have Excluded All Those Superficial And Fleeting Possibilities Of Being And Doing With Which You Toy, Out Of Curiosity Or Wonder Or Greed, And Which Hinder You From Casting Anchor In The Experience Of The Mystery Of Life, And The Consciousness Of The Talent Entrusted To You Which Is Your *i*.

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Guarantees That

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It Is Not We Who Seek The Way, But The Way Which Seeks Us. That Is Why You Are Faithful To It, Even While You Stand Waiting, So Long As You Are Prepared, And Act The Moment You Are Confronted By Its Demands.

Your Position Never Gives You The Right To Command. It Only Imposes On You The Duty Of So Living Your Life That Others Can Receive Your Orders Without Being Humiliated.

Here Man Is No Longer The Center Of The World, Only A Witness, But A Witness Who Is Also A Partner In The Silent Life Of Nature, Bound By Secret Affinities Of The Trees.

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The Big, Shoe-thumping Fellow Continues As A Dark Thunderhead To Threaten All Unrepentant Non-communists With Hail And Thunder.

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Praise Those Of Your Critics For Whom Nothing Is Up To Standard.

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To Preserve The Silence Within--amid All The Noise. To Remain Open And Quiet, A Moist Humus In The Fertile Darkness Where The Rain Falls And The Grain Ripens--no Matter How Many Tramp Across The Parade Ground In Whirling Dust Under An Arid Sky.

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Smiling, Sincere, Incorruptible - His Body Disciplined And Limber. A Man Who Had Become What He Could, And Was What He Was- Ready At Any Moment To Gather Everything Into One Simple Sacrifice.

Be Grateful As Your Deeds Become Less And Less Associated With Your Name, As Your Feet Ever More Lightly Tread The Earth.

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Forgiving Is Forgetting, In Spite Of Remembering.

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