Poetry, literature, inspiration. Even a transcribed speech if the speakers voice comes across well in the text.
I think I'll always hold a special place in my heart for Desiderata by Ehrmann.
- Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be critical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be careful. Strive to be happy.
From Kurt Vonnegut to a group of high schoolers who were asked to write to their favourite author, to ask them to visit. The assignment he gives is especially touching to me. Dear Xavier High School, and Ms. Lockwood, and Messrs Perin, McFeely, Batten, Maurer and Congiusta: I thank you for your friendly letters. You sure know how to cheer up a really old geezer (84) in his sunset years. I don't make public appearances any more because I now resemble nothing so much as an iguana. What I had to say to you, moreover, would not take long, to wit: Practice any art, music, singing, dancing, acting, drawing, painting, sculpting, poetry, fiction, essays, reportage, no matter how well or badly, not to get money and fame, but to experience becoming, to find out what's inside you, to make your soul grow. Seriously! I mean starting right now, do art and do it for the rest of your lives. Draw a funny or nice picture of Ms. Lockwood, and give it to her. Dance home after school, and sing in the shower and on and on. Make a face in your mashed potatoes. Pretend you're Count Dracula. Here's an assignment for tonight, and I hope Ms. Lockwood will flunk you if you don't do it: Write a six line poem, about anything, but rhymed. No fair tennis without a net. Make it as good as you possibly can. But don't tell anybody what you're doing. Don't show it or recite it to anybody, not even your girlfriend or parents or whatever, or Ms. Lockwood. OK? Tear it up into teeny-weeny pieces, and discard them into widely separated trash recepticals. You will find that you have already been gloriously rewarded for your poem. You have experienced becoming, learned a lot more about what's inside you, and you have made your soul grow. God bless you all! Kurt VonnegutNovember 5, 2006
The Glass Bead Game by Hermann HesseThoughts or reveries of this sort reverberated in him after his meditation. "Awakening," it seemed, was not much concerned with truth and cognition, but with experiencing and proving oneself in the real world. When you had such an awakening, you did not penetrate any closer to the core of things, to truth; you grasped, accomplished, or endured only the attitude of your own ego to the momentary situation. You did not find laws, but came to decisions; you did not thrust your way in to the center of the world, but into the center of your own individuality. That, too, was why the experience of the awakening was so difficult to convey, so curiously hard to formulate, so remote from statement. Language did not seem designed to make communications from this realm of life. If once in a great while, someone were able to understand, that person was in a similar position, was fellow sufferer or undergoing a similar awakening.
Yep, I've read both of those; Hesse is one of my favourite authors. The Glass Bead Game is a stunning bit of work. It's much longer than anything else he wrote though. For comparison, Steppenwolf and Siddartha are about 260 and 150 pages respectively. The Glass Bead Game is 600.
Desiderata's a good piece and stands up well. It is thought that Ehrman's original said "Be cheerful" in the last line. "Be cheerful" seems to follow the spirit of the peace. This line A text satisfying to the soul? I won't offer a specific here. I spend my days reading (and often editing) bad writing; however anything written well and bravely makes me pretty happy. (Not the answer you wanted perhaps, but I'm interested in reading what others offer.)and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.
is probably the hardest to believe or observe.
My mind is too full right now -- but I'll keep my soul open to see what writing satisfies it in the next while. I must say, certain passages of Hubski/Hubskina by the ever-luminous eightbitsamurai were soul-satisfying, especially where one character kept the Outlander at bay. Before long, Lillian stopped her assault, hovering in the air, and out of reach of her assailant. “As fun as this is,” she says, “I have other things to attend to. Havires and Badger should be long gone by now. So, I will be taking my leave." The book floating in front of her began to spin in circles, and a glowing glyph grew below her feet. With a spark and a flash, Lillian disappeared.The battle was on. Lillian danced in the air, shooting off different elements from each of the books that twirled around her. The Outlander, however, was swift, dodging from place to place, but unable to land a hit using his swords. The Mutees could only watch as the two warriors fought, each attack sending shockwaves throughout the library.
It's soul-satisfying to be perceived as a bad-ass, as indeed I can be!