He had thought more than other men, and in matters of the intellect he had that calm objectivity, that certainty of thought and knowledge, such as only really intellectual men have, who have no axe to grind, who never wish to shine, or to talk others down, or to appear always in the right.

In course of time I was more and more conscious, too, that this affliction was not due to any defects of nature, but rather to a profusion of gifts and powers which had not attained to harmony. […] I saw at the same time that the root of his pessimism was not world-contempt but self-contempt; for however mercilessly he might annihilate institutions and persons in his talk he never spared himself. It was always at himself first and foremost that he aimed the shaft, himself first and foremost whom he hated and despised.

He was brought up by devoted but severe and very pious parents and teachers in accordance with that doctrine that makes the breaking of the will the corner-stone of education and upbringing. But in this case the attempt to destroy the personality and to break the will did not succeed. He was much too strong and hardy, too proud and spirited. Instead of destroying his personality they succeeded only in teaching him to hate himself.

Soon I never thought of him by any other name; nor could I today hit on a better description of him. A wolf of the Steppes that had lost its way and strayed into the towns and the life of the herd, a more striking image could not be found for his shy loneliness, his savagery, his restlessness, his homesickness, his homelessness.

Every age, every culture, every custom and tradition has its own character, its own weakness and its own strength, its beauties and ugliness; accepts certain sufferings as matters of course, puts up patiently with certain evils. Human life is reduced to real suffering, to hell, only when two ages, two cultures and religions overlap. […] Now there are times when a whole generation is caught in this way between two ages, two modes of life, with the consequence that it loses all power to understand itself and has no standard, no security, no simple acquiescence.

There is much to be said for contentment and painlessness, for these bearable and submissive days, on which neither pain nor pleasure is audible, but pass by whispering and on tip-toe. But the worst of it is that it is just this contentment that I cannot endure. […] For what I always hated and detested and cursed above all things was this contentment, this healthiness and comfort, this carefully preserved optimism of the middle classes, this fat and prosperous brood of mediocrity.

There I took refuge. True, it was only a refuge […] Here, too, I found neither home nor company, nothing but a seat from which to view a stage where strange people played strange parts.

How foolish to wear oneself out in vain longing for warmth! Solitude is independence. It had been my wish and with the years I had attained it. It was cold. Oh, cold enough! But it was also still, wonderfully still and vast like the cold stillness of space in which the stars revolve.

There was once a man, called the Steppenwolf. He went on two legs, wore clothes and was a human being, but nevertheless he was in reality a wolf of the Steppes. He had learned a good deal of all that people of a good intelligence can, and was a fairly clever fellow. What he had not learned, however, was this: to find contentment in himself and his own life.

Clever men might argue the point whether he truly was a wolf […] or whether, on the other hand, this belief that he was a wolf was no more than a fancy or a disease of his. It might, for example, be possible that in his childhood he was a little wild and disobedient and disorderly, and that those who brought him up had declared a war of extinction against the beast in him; and precisely this had given him the idea and the belief that he was in fact actually a beast with only a thin covering of the human.

On [whether he truly was a wolf or merely fancied he was a wolf] one could speak at length and entertainingly, and indeed write a book about it. The Steppenwolf, however, would be none the better for it, since for him it was all one whether the wolf had been bewitched or beaten into him, or whether it was merely an idea of his own. What others chose to think about it or what he chose to think himself was no good to him at all. It left the wolf inside him just the same.

It cannot be denied that he was generally very unhappy; and he could make others unhappy also, that is, when he loved them or they him. For all who got to love him, saw always only the one side in him. Many loved him as a refined and clever and interesting man, and were horrified and disappointed when they had come upon the wolf in him. And they had to because [he] wished, as every sentient being does, to be loved as a whole and therefore it was just with those whose love he most valued that he could least of all conceal and belie the wolf.

There are a good many people of the same kind as [him]. Many artists are of his kind. These persons all have two souls, two beings within them […] and in just such a state of enmity and entanglement towards and within each other as were the wolf and man in Harry. And these men, for whom life has no repose, live at times in their rare moments of happiness with such strength and indescribable beauty, the spray of their moment's happiness is flung so high and dazzlingly over the wide sea of suffering, that the light of it, spreading its radiance, touches others too with its enchantment.

He achieved his aim. He was ever more independent. Only, through this virtue, he was bound the closer to his destiny of suffering. It happened to him as it does to all; what he strove for with the deepest and most stubborn instinct of his being fell to his lot, but more than is good for men. In the beginning his dream and his happiness, in the end it was his bitter fate. The man of power is ruined by power, the man of money by money, the submissive man by subservience, the pleasure seeker by pleasure.

But in the midst of the freedom he had attained he suddenly became aware that his freedom was a death and that he stood alone. The world in an uncanny fashion left him in peace. […] He began to suffocate slowly in the more and more rarefied atmosphere of remoteness and solitude. For now it was his wish no longer, nor his aim, to be alone and independent, but rather his lot and his sentence. The magic wish had been fulfilled and could not be cancelled, and it was no good now to open his arms with longing and goodwill to welcome the bonds of society. People left him alone now.

Now what we call "bourgeois," […] is nothing else than the search for a balance. It is the striving after a mean between the countless extremes and opposites that arise in human conduct. If we take any one of these opposites, such as piety and profligacy, the analogy is immediately comprehensible. It is open to a man to give himself up wholly to spiritual views, to seeking after God, to the ideal of saintliness. On the other hand, he can equally give himself up entirely to the life of instinct, to the lusts of the flesh, and so direct all his efforts to the attainment of momentary pleasures.

Now it is between the two, in the middle of the road, that the bourgeois seeks to walk. He will never be a martyr or agree to his own destruction. On the contrary, his ideal is not to give up but to maintain his own identity. He strives neither for the saintly nor its opposite. In short, his aim is to make a home for himself between two extremes in a temperate zone without violent storms and tempests; and in this he succeeds though it be at the cost of that intensity of life and feeling which an extreme life affords. A man cannot live intensely except at the cost of the self.

Now the bourgeois treasures nothing more highly than the self (rudimentary as his may be). And so at the cost of intensity he achieves his own preservation and security. His harvest is a quiet mind which he prefers to being possessed by God, as he does comfort to pleasure, convenience to liberty, and a pleasant temperature to that deathly inner consuming fire. The bourgeois is consequently by nature a creature of weak impulses, anxious, fearful of giving himself away and easy to rule. Therefore, he has substituted majority for power, law for force, and the polling booth for responsibility.

It is clear that this weak and anxious being, in whatever numbers he exists, cannot maintain himself, and that qualities such as his can play no other role in the world than that of a herd of sheep among free roving wolves. Yet we see that, though in times when commanding natures are uppermost, the bourgeois goes at once to the wall, he never goes under; indeed at times he even appears to rule the world. How is this possible? Neither the great numbers of the herd, nor virtue, nor common sense, nor organization could avail to save it from destruction. Nevertheless the bourgeoisie prospers. Why?

Why? Because of the Steppenwolves. In fact, the vital force of the bourgeoisie resides by no means in the qualities of its normal members, but in those of its extremely numerous "outsiders" who by virtue of the extensiveness and elasticity of its ideals it can embrace.

“Magic Theatre - Entrance Not for Everybody - Anarchist Evening Entertainment - For Madmen Only!” (Part 1)

Harry Haller is a sad and lonely figure, a reclusive intellectual for whom life holds no joy. He struggles to reconcile the wild primeval wolf and the rational man within himself without surrendering to the bourgeois values he despises. His life changes dramatically when he meets a woman who is his opposite, the carefree and elusive Hermine. The tale of the Steppenwolf culminates in the surreal Magic Theater—for mad men only. Steppenwolf is Hesse's best-known and most autobiographical work. With its blend of Eastern mysticism and Western culture, it is one of literature's most poetic evocations of the soul's journey to liberation. Originally published in English in 1929, the novel's wisdom continues to speak to our souls and marks it as a classic of modern literature.

Understand yourself and those around you.

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Many works, including Siddhartha (1922) and Steppenwolf (1927), of German-born Swiss writer Hermann Hesse concern the struggle of the individual to find wholeness and meaning in life; he won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1946.Other best-known works of this poet, novelist, and painter include The Glass Bead Game, which, also known as Magister Ludi, explore a search of an individual for spirituality outside society. In his time, Hesse was a popular and influential author in the German-speaking world; worldwide fame only came later. 

Hermann Hesse

Steppenwolf

“Did you too learn that secret from the river: that there is no time?”Vasudeva’s face was filled with a bright smile.“Yes, Siddhartha,” he spoke. “It is this what you mean, isn’t it: that the river is everywhere at once, at the source and at the mouth, at the waterfall, at the ferry, at the rapids, in the sea, in the mountains, everywhere at once, and that there is only the present time for it, not the shadow of the past, not the shadow of the future?”

[W]as not all suffering time, were not all forms of tormenting oneself and being afraid time, was not everything hard, everything hostile in the world gone and overcome as soon as one had overcome time, as soon as time would have been put out of existence by one’s thoughts?

Who has kept the Samana Siddhartha safe from Sansara, from sin, from greed, from foolishness? Were his father’s religious devotion, his teacher’s warnings, his own knowledge, his own search able to keep him safe? Which father, which teacher had been able to protect him from living his life for himself, from soiling himself with life, from burdening himself with guilt, from drinking the bitter drink for himself, from finding his path for himself?

Would you think, my dear, anybody might perhaps be spared from taking this path? That perhaps your little son would be spared, because you love him, because you would like to keep him from suffering and pain and disappointment? But even if you would die ten times for him, you would not be able to take the slightest part of his destiny upon yourself.

In this hour, Siddhartha stopped fighting his fate, stopped suffering. On his face flourished the cheerfulness of a knowledge, which is no longer opposed by any will, which knows perfection, which is in agreement with the flow of events, with the current of life, full of sympathy for the pain of others, full of sympathy for the pleasure of others, devoted to the flow, belonging to the oneness.

When someone is searching, […] then it might easily happen that the only thing his eyes still see is that what he searches for, that he is unable to find anything, to let anything enter his mind, because he always thinks of nothing but the object of his search, because he has a goal, because he is obsessed by the goal. Searching means: having a goal. But finding means: being free, being open, having no goal.

But the world itself, what exists around us and inside of us, is never one-sided. A person or an act is never entirely Sansara or entirely Nirvana, a person is never entirely holy or entirely sinful. It does really seem like this, because we are subject to deception, as if time was something real. Time is not real, Govinda, I have experienced this often and often again. And if time is not real, then the gap which seems to be between the world and the eternity, between suffering and blissfulness, between evil and good, is also a deception.

The sinner is not “on his way” to become a Buddha, he is not “in the process” of developing, though our capacity for thinking does not know how else to picture these things. No, within the sinner is now and today already the future Buddha, his future is already all there, you have to worship in him, in you, in everyone the Buddha which is coming into being, the possible, the hidden Buddha.

Therefore, I see whatever exists as good, death is to me like life, sin like holiness, wisdom like foolishness, everything has to be as it is, everything only requires my consent, only my willingness, my loving agreement, to be good for me, to do nothing but work for my benefit, to be unable to ever harm me.

I have experienced on my body and on my soul that I needed sin very much, I needed lust, the desire for possessions, vanity, and needed the most shameful despair, in order to learn how to give up all resistance, in order to learn how to love the world, in order to stop comparing it to some world I wished, I imagined, some kind of perfection I had made up, but to leave it as it is and to love it and to enjoy being a part of it.

I love this very stone, and the river, and all these things we are looking at and from which we can learn. I can love a stone, Govinda, and also a tree or a piece of bark. These are things, and things can be loved. But I cannot love words. Therefore, teachings are no good for me, they have no hardness, no softness, no colours, no edges, no smell, no taste, they have nothing but words. Perhaps it is these which keep you from finding peace, perhaps it is the many words. Because salvation and virtue as well, Sansara and Nirvana as well, are mere words, Govinda.

He no longer saw the face of his friend Siddhartha, instead he saw other faces, many, a long sequence, a flowing river of faces, of hundreds, of thousands, which all came and disappeared, and yet all seemed to be there simultaneously, which all constantly changed and renewed themselves, and which were still all Siddhartha.

And all of these figures and faces rested, flowed, generated themselves, floated along and merged with each other, and they were all constantly covered by something thin, without individuality of its own, but yet existing, like a thin glass or ice, like a transparent skin, a shell or mold or mask of water, and this mask was smiling, and this mask was Siddhartha’s smiling face.

And, Govinda saw it like this, this smile of the mask, this smile of oneness above the flowing forms, this smile of simultaneousness above the thousand births and deaths, this smile of Siddhartha was precisely the same, was precisely of the same kind as the quiet, delicate, impenetrable, perhaps benevolent, perhaps mocking, wise, thousand-fold smile of Gotama, the Buddha, as he had seen it himself with great respect a hundred times. Like this, Govinda knew, the perfected ones are smiling.

The name Siddharta suggests the idea of the siddha, one who has achieved perfection, namely enlightenment. (Part 2)

“You have done so by your own seeking in your own way, through thought, through meditation, through knowledge, through enlightenment. You have learned nothing through teachings, and so I think, O Illustrious One, that nobody finds salvation through teachings. To nobody, O Illustrious One, can you communicate in words and teachings, what happened to you in the hour of your enlightenment. The teachings of the enlightened Buddha embrace much, they teach much—how to live righteously, how to avoid evil. But there is one thing that this clear, worthy instruction does not contain; it does not contain the secret of what the Illustrious One himself experienced—he alone among hundreds of thousands.”Hermann Hesse, one of the literary stalwarts of the 20th century, was awarded the Nobel Prize in literature in 1946. Hesse wanted to be a poet from the early age of 12, and a slim volume of his poems was published in 1899. Unfortunately, it did not create a significant stir in the literary world. In 1904, Peter Camenzind, Hesse’s debut novel, received tremendous critical acclaim, and it is considered one of the finest works in literature even today. Hesse’s visit to India in 1911 inspired him to delve into the finer details of Eastern religions, and a little over a decade later, Siddhartha (1922) was published. Hermann Hesse received the Goethe Prize of Frankfurt in 1946. In 1955, he received the Peace Prize of the German Booksellers. Steppenwolf and The Glass Bead Game are some of his other seminal works. He died in Montagnola, Switzerland in 1962. Talking Points - This is the ninth novel by Nobel Prize-winning German author Hermann Hesse - Regarded a masterpiece, a cult book in the 1960s - One of the most popular novels set in India and translated into many languages including film adaptations - Explores the quest for enlightenment through the spiritual journey of Siddhartha Worldwide readership/market Students specialising in Buddhist religion and spirituality; philosophers, biographers, readers of classics, literature students, historians, academicians, professors, educational institutes, libraries, film-makers, general trade

mindfulness

Mindfulness

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Meditation

Siddhartha: An Indian Tale

But be warned, oh seeker of knowledge, of the thicket of opinions and of arguing about words. There is nothing to opinions, they may be beautiful or ugly, smart or foolish, everyone can support them or discard them.

When Siddhartha left the grove […] then he felt that in this grove his past life also stayed behind and parted from him. He pondered about this sensation, which filled him completely, as he was slowly walking along. He pondered deeply, like diving into a deep water he let himself sink down to the ground of the sensation, down to the place where the causes lie, because to identify the causes, so it seemed to him, is the very essence of thinking, and by this alone sensations turn into realizations and are not lost, but become entities and start to emit like rays of light what is inside of them.

I have not doubted for a single moment that you are Buddha, that you have reached the goal, the highest goal towards which so many thousands of Brahmans and sons of Brahmans are on their way. You have found salvation from death. It has come to you in the course of your own search, on your own path, through thoughts, through meditation, through realizations, through enlightenment. It has not come to you by means of teachings! And—thus is my thought, oh exalted one,—nobody will obtain salvation by means of teachings!

It was the self, the purpose and essence of which I sought to learn. It was the self I wanted to free myself from, which I sought to overcome. But I was not able to overcome it, could only deceive it, could only flee from it, only hide from it. Truly, no thing in this world has kept my thoughts thus busy, as this my very own self, this mystery of me being alive, of me being one and being separated and isolated from all others, of me being Siddhartha! And there is no thing in this world I know less about than about me, about Siddhartha!

That I know nothing about myself, that Siddhartha has remained thus alien and unknown to me, stems from one cause, a single cause: I was afraid of myself, I was fleeing from myself! I searched Atman, I searched Brahman, I was willing to dissect my self and peel off all of its layers, to find the core of all peels in its unknown interior, the Atman, life, the divine part, the ultimate part. But I have lost myself in the process.

How deaf and stupid have I been! […] When someone reads a text, wants to discover its meaning, he will not scorn the symbols and letters and call them deceptions, coincidence, and worthless hull, but he will read them, he will study and love them, letter by letter. But I, who wanted to read the book of the world and the book of my own being, I have, for the sake of a meaning I had anticipated before I read, scorned the symbols and letters, I called the visible world a deception, called my eyes and my tongue coincidental and worthless forms without substance.

All of this, a thousand-fold and colourful, had always been there, always the sun and the moon had shone, always rivers had roared and bees had buzzed, but in former times all of this had been nothing more to Siddhartha than a fleeting, deceptive veil before his eyes, looked upon in distrust, destined to be penetrated and destroyed by thought, since it was not the essential existence, since this essence lay beyond, on the other side of, the visible.

But now, his liberated eyes stayed on this side, he saw and became aware of the visible, sought to be at home in this world, did not search for the true essence, did not aim at a world beyond. Beautiful was this world, looking at it thus, without searching, thus simply, thus childlike. Beautiful were the moon and the stars, beautiful was the stream and the banks, the forest and the rocks, the goat and the gold-beetle, the flower and the butterfly. Beautiful and lovely it was, thus to walk through the world, thus childlike, thus awoken, thus open to what is near, thus without distrust.

All of this had always existed, and he had not seen it; he had not been with it. Now he was with it, he was part of it. Light and shadow ran through his eyes, stars and moon ran through his heart.

But never, he had really found this self, because he had wanted to capture it in the net of thought. With the body definitely not being the self, and not the spectacle of the senses, so it also was not the thought, not the rational mind, not the learned wisdom, not the learned ability to draw conclusions and to develop previous thoughts in to new ones.

No, this world of thought was also still on this side, and nothing could be achieved by killing the random self of the senses, if the random self of thoughts and learned knowledge was fattened on the other hand.Both, the thoughts as well as the senses, were pretty things, the ultimate meaning was hidden behind both of them, both had to be listened to, both had to be played with, both neither had to be scorned nor overestimated, from both the secret voices of the innermost truth had to be attentively perceived.

Did any Samana or Brahman ever fear, someone might come and grab him and steal his learning, and his religious devotion, and his depth of thought? No, for they are his very own, and he would only give away from those whatever he is willing to give and to whomever he is willing to give. […] You are learning easily, Siddhartha, thus you should also learn this: love can be obtained by begging, buying, receiving it as a gift, finding it in the street, but it cannot be stolen.

When you throw a rock into the water, it will speed on the fastest course to the bottom of the water. This is how it is when Siddhartha has a goal, a resolution. Siddhartha does nothing, he waits, he thinks, he fasts, but he passes through the things of the world like a rock through water, without doing anything, without stirring; he is drawn, he lets himself fall. His goal attracts him, because he doesn’t let anything enter his soul which might oppose the goal.

“And what is it now what you’ve got to give? What is it that you’ve learned, what you’re able to do?”	“I can think. I can wait. I can fast.”	“That’s everything?”	“I believe, that’s everything!”

She taught him that lovers must not part from one another after celebrating love, without one admiring the other, without being just as defeated as they have been victorious, so that none of them should start feeling fed up or bored and get that evil feeling of having abused or having been abused.

“This Brahman,” said [the merchant] to a friend, “is no proper merchant and will never be one, there is never any passion in his soul when he conducts our business. But he has that mysterious quality of those people to whom success comes all by itself, whether this may be a good star of his birth, magic, or something he has learned among Samanas. He always seems to be merely playing with our business-affairs, they never fully become a part of him, they never rule over him, he is never afraid of failure, he is never upset by a loss.”

You are Kamala, nothing else, and inside of you, there is a peace and refuge, to which you can go at every hour of the day and be at home at yourself, as I can also do. Few people have this, and yet all could have it.

Most people, Kamala, are like a falling leaf, which is blown and is turning around through the air, and wavers, and tumbles to the ground. But others, a few, are like stars, they go on a fixed course, no wind reaches them, in themselves they have their law and their course.

Now Siddhartha also got some idea of why he had fought this self in vain […]. Too much knowledge had held him back, too many holy verses, too many sacrificial rules, too much self-castigation, too much doing and striving for that goal! Full of arrogance, he had been, always the smartest, always working the most, always one step ahead of all others, always the knowing and spiritual one, always the priest or wise one. Into being a priest, into this arrogance, into this spirituality, his self had retreated, there it sat firmly and grew, while he thought he would kill it by fasting and penance.

But more than Vasudeva could teach him, he was taught by the river. Incessantly, he learned from it. Most of all, he learned from it to listen, to pay close attention with a quiet heart, with a waiting, opened soul, without passion, without a wish, without judgement, without an opinion.

The name Siddharta suggests the idea of the siddha, one who has achieved perfection, namely enlightenment. (Part 1)

This carefully crafted ebook: &quot;Siddhartha (An Indian Tale)&quot; is formatted for your eReader with a functional and detailed table of contents. Translated by: Gunther Olesch, Anke Dreher, Amy Coulter, Stefan Langer and Semyon Chaichenets. Published in 1922, Siddhartha is the most famous and influential novel by Nobel prize-winning author Hermann Hesse. The book was written in German, in a simple, lyrical style and became influential during the 1960s. Set in India, Siddhartha is the story of a young Brahmin's search for ultimate reality after meeting with the Buddha. His quest takes him from a life of decadence to asceticism, through the illusory joys of sensual love with a beautiful courtesan, and of wealth and fame, to the painful struggles with his son and the ultimate wisdom of renunciation. Hermann Hesse (July 2, 1877 – August 9, 1962) was a German poet, novelist, and painter. His best-known works include Steppenwolf, Siddhartha, and The Glass Bead Game, each of which explores an individual's search for authenticity, self-knowledge and spirituality. In 1946, he received the Nobel Prize in Literature.

Hesse,Hermann

Siddhartha (An Indian Tale)

Your mind is like a garden. Water it with positive thoughts. Eliminate parasitic negative thoughts

Extraordinary Garden

Life is much like a rose,you will meet thorns along the way but if you have faith and believe in your dreams, you will eventually move beyond the thorns into the glory of the flower

The Heart of The Rose

he mind can only hold one thought at any one time. Using this little known information anyone can easily create a positive creative mind control. when an undesirable thought occupies the focal point of your mind immediately replace it with an uplifting one is as if your mind Giants slide projector with every thought in your mind being a slide whenever negative slide comes up on the screen in Swift action to replace it with a positive one

Opposition Thinking

The secret of the lake is envisioning your dreams become a reality. if it was courage they desire they would pictured themselves acting with strength in the moment of crisis and challenge

The Secret of The Lake

- Dharma our purpose of life, examine yourself - The five-step method for attaining goals. Have a clear vision in your mind. Get a positive pressure. set a time line through it the magic rule of 21. enjoy the process

2. Kindling inner fire

- Do the things you fear- Ten rituals of radiant living : Solitude, physicality, live nourishment, abundant knowledge, personal reflection, early Awakening, music, spoken word, congruent character, simplicity

3. The Art of Self Leadership

- Mantras : " I am more than I appear to be. All the world's strengths and powers rest inside me. " - The Vow of Silence

4. The Power of Discipline

<ul><li>The Ancient Rule of 20</li></ul>Manage priorities . The most productive people in the world have cultivated the habit of doing the things that less productive people don't like doing, even though they might too might not like doing them<ul><li>Have the courage to say no</li><li>Live each day as it was your last. </li></ul>

5. Your Most Precious Commodity

- Practice daily act of kindness - Give to those who ask - Cultivate Richer Relationships

6. The Ultimate Purpose of Life

<ul><li> Practice Gratitude .</li></ul>Never sacrifice happiness for the sake of achievement<ul><li>Grow your destiny</li></ul>

7. The Secret to Happiness

Wisdom to Create a Life of Passion, Purpose, and Peace This inspiring tale provides a step-by-step approach to living with greater courage, balance, abundance, and joy. A wonderfully crafted fable, The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari tells the extraordinary story of Julian Mantle, a lawyer forced to confront the spiritual crisis of his out-of-balance life. On a life-changing odyssey to an ancient culture, he discovers powerful, wise, and practical lessons that teach us to: <ul><li> Develop Joyful Thoughts, <li> Follow Our Life's Mission and Calling, <li> Cultivate Self-Discipline and Act Courageously, <li> Value Time as Our Most Important Commodity, <li> Nourish Our Relationships, and <li> Live Fully, One Day at a Time.</ul>

Robin Sharma is one of the world’s premier thinkers on leadership, personal growth and life management. The bestselling author of The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari, Who Will Cry When You Die? and The Saint, the Surfer, and the CEO and four other books on self-transformation. Robin Sharma is in constant demand internationally as keynote speaker at the conferences of many of the most powerful companies on the planet including Microsoft, Nortel Networks, General Motors, FedEx and IBM. He is a resident of Ontario, Canada. (Barnes and Noble)

Robin S. Sharma

The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari

Phaedo is a narrative about the last few hours before Socrates was put to death in prison. As a friend of Socrates, Phaedo tells the story. He meets Echecrates, another scholar, after witnessing Socrates drink poison hemlock. Socrates and his friends were sitting with him in jail while he argued, among other things, that the soul lives forever. Phaedo describes what they said to each other.

Introduction

Here’s what Phaedo recounts:Socrates tells his friends what seems to be a farewell. Even Crito wishes him well and bids him farewell, telling him that if he is wise, he should follow him as soon as possible. When Simmias hears this, he is shocked that Socrates would say this, implying that one should hope to follow him to death as soon as possible. In response, Socrates says that anyone who takes part in philosophy worthily should be ready to die. He agrees, though, that killing oneself is not right.

Socrates’ Farewell

Socrates explains that it is sometimes better to die than to live, and when Simmias asks how he can believe that philosophers should accept death but not suicidal thoughts, Socrates clarifies that people, unlike gods, should not decide when they die. Simmias and Cebes argue that since the gods rule over humans, it does not make sense for someone to look forward to death, as it would mean losing the guidance of a wise master. Socrates responds that he believes the soul is permanent, meaning that people will continue to serve the gods after they die.

Philosophers and Death

Socrates says that those who practice philosophy properly are preparing for death. He argues that the body and soul are separate, using this to show that living without being affected by the body is preparing for death. Socrates contends that the physical world is full of distractions because our senses are not always accurate and cannot give us a true picture of reality. Therefore, philosophers free the soul from the body's influence so it can grasp the truth. Since death is merely the separation of soul from the body, living without the body's distractions is essentially preparing for death.

Philosophy Is Preparation for Death

Socrates uses the idea that the soul lives on after death to argue that he has no reason to fear dying. He believes that death will finally allow him to find the knowledge he has been seeking, as his body will no longer distract him. Simmias counters that most people believe the soul disperses like breath or smoke upon death and that believing in the soul’s continuation requires considerable faith. Socrates responds by invoking an ancient theory that souls come from the underworld, suggesting that souls must exist there, as they would not return if they did not exist.

Socrates’ Views on Immortality

He explains that things come from their opposites, like how something becomes taller from being shorter and vice versa. Socrates argues that life and death are opposites that come from one another—being alive comes from being dead, and being dead comes from being alive. These changes balance each other out. He adds that if there were no corresponding process to waking from sleep, everyone would sleep forever. Similarly, if everyone died and never came back to life, no one would be alive. Simmias agrees and says he no longer worries about the soul’s immortality.

Life and Death as Opposites

Despite agreeing, Socrates present a different view on the soul eternal existence He explain that people do not learn new things but recollect knowledge from past lives Socrates assert that the mind knows about the Forms—unchanging ideas not limited by the physical world. Simmias thinks of the idea of equality when he considers two things of the same size even though they are not perfectly equal. Socrates says this is because Simmias knows the Form of equality from his soul prior knowledge. If the Form exist and the soul has known them in past live, then the soul must have existed before birth

Theory of Recollection

Simmias agrees with Socrates that the soul exists before birth but not necessarily that it lives on after death. Socrates responds that Forms are non-composite and unchanging, while real things, like people or clothes, are composite and always changing. He divides reality into the visible (the body) and the invisible (the soul). The soul becomes wise by rejecting the body’s desires. Socrates argues that the invisible part of life, being divine and deathless, contrasts with the body, which dissolves easily. A pure soul, gained through knowledge, will dwell with the gods after death.

Socrates on Forms and Reality

However, if the soul was too involved with the physical world, it would suffer in the underworld and return as a lower being.

Simmias and Cebes express doubts but do not want to trouble Socrates, who is about to die. Socrates encourages them to voice their thoughts, so Simmias critiques Socrates’ distinction between visible and invisible aspects of life. Simmias argue that one could liken the soul to a harmony produced by a lyre, suggesting that even if the lyre is broken, the harmony (soul) would still exist. Socrates’ idea, he believes, does not make sense because harmony depends on the lyre.

Simmias And Cebes Analogy And Socrates Responses

Cebes uses the analogy of a weaver and his cloak, suggesting that the soul, like the cloak, might wear out and die with the body. The soul might go through multiple bodies but eventually could die with one of them. Socrates appreciates Simmias and Cebes’ objections, as they provide him an opportunity to clarify his views. He addresses Simmias idea of the soul as harmony by reaffirming the theory of recollection, which posits that the soul existed before the body. Socrates adds that the soul is not a product of the body and has always existed independently.

He (Socrates) argues that wickedness is discord, and something cannot be both itself and its opposite simultaneously.

Socrates responds to Cebes’ point about the soul’s general toughness by saying that it does not prove immortality. He recalls pondering the causes of generation and destruction in his youth and believed, as Anaxagoras suggested, that the mind directed and caused everything. Socrates’ own theory posits that things follow Forms that do not change. He explains that beauty itself is a Form, and through beauty, beautiful things are made beautiful.

This leads him to his final argument for the soul’s immortality: nothing can be both itself and its opposite at the same time. Since death is the opposite of life, the soul cannot admit death because it inherently brings life. After presenting his final case, Socrates shares his vision of the afterlife, where the souls of the good go to a pure dwelling place, others are punished and purified, and some are sent to the underworld, never to return. Socrates finishes his discourse by drinking the poison hemlock.

Socrates’ Vision of the Afterlife

He walks around his cell a few times to let the poison take effect and then lies down while his friends mourn. He tells them not to be sad because his journey to the afterlife is not a sorrowful one. In his final words, he tells Crito to make an offering to Asclepius and not to forget this duty.

For I have heard that a man should die in silence. So calm yourselves and bear up

After an interval of some months or years, and at Phlius, a town of Peloponnesus, the tale of the last hours of Socrates is narrated to Echecrates and other Phliasians by Phaedo the 'beloved disciple.' The Dialogue necessarily takes the form of a narrative, because Socrates has to be described acting as well as speaking. The minutest particulars of the event are interesting to distant friends, and the narrator has an equal interest in them.

history

History

politics

Politics

Plató

Phaedo

Never stop being a good person because of bad people.• <a href="https://x.com/Philosophy_DQ/status/1822532608447910192">Philosophy Thoughts</a>

You can't learn if you always think you're right.• <a href="https://x.com/Psychology_DQ/status/1822534476141879746">Philosophy Thoughts</a>

Embrace the challenge, for within every obstacle lies an opportunity to grow and reveal the strength within your soul.• <a href="https://x.com/Philosophy_DQ/status/1813824482685157677">Philosophy Thoughts</a>

True strength is healing without turning into those who hurt you.• <a href="https://x.com/Philosophy_DQ/status/1813472157109772421">Philosophy Thoughts</a>

A negative mind will never give you a positive life.• <a href="https://x.com/Philosophy_DQ/status/1787367751650021597">Philosophy Thoughts</a>

A fake friend is worse than an enemy.• <a href="https://x.com/MindPsychology_/status/1822354909431202005">Mind Psychology</a>

Focus on fixing yourself; you can't fix anyone else.• <a href="https://x.com/PhilOfLife_/status/1822545182555783450">Philosophy Of Life</a>— Concentrate on your own personal development; changing others is not within your control.

People think they can "stay stagnant", but we're never not moving. Life is an ocean where we're either sinking, paddling to stay afloat, or swimming on ahead. • <a href="https://x.com/NiqueyRee/status/1819355210457731297">Niquey Ree</a>

Self-reflection and self-awareness is your greatest tool to navigate the world Protect that tool at all cost.• <a href="https://x.com/midrar_yusya/status/1820358986094563622">Midrar</a>

writing

Reading & Writing

education

Learning & Education

problemsolving

Problem Solving

Philosophy Thoughts

“He knew that the mind could produce anything the mind could conceive and believe.”

“Indecision and procrastination are twin brothers. Where one is found, the other may usually be found also.”

“Do not wait. The time will never be ‘just right.’ Start where you stand, and work with whatever tools you may have at your command, and better tools will be found as you go along.”

“When defeat comes, accept it as a signal that your plans are not sound, rebuild those plans, and set sail once more toward your coveted goal.”

“Opinions are the cheapest commodities on earth. Everyone has a flock of opinions ready to be wished upon anyone who will accept them.”

“If you must be careless with your possessions, let it be in connection with material things.”

Find a short summary  - https://thetometreasure.blogspot.com/2024/07/think-and-grow-rich-by-napoleon-hill.html

Ever wondered how life would be if we could condition our minds to Think and Grow Rich? Author Napoleon Hill claims to have based this book on twenty years of rigorous research on the lives of those who had amassed great wealth and made a fortune. Observing their habits, their ways of working and the principles they followed, Hill put together laws and philosophies that can be practiced in everyday life to achieve all-round success. The narrative is rich with stories and anecdotes, which not only inspire, but also show a way forward to take action. After all, riches are not just material, but also pertaining to the mind, body and spirit.  Having sold more than fifteen million copies across the world, this book remains the most read self-improvement book of all times!

productivity

Productivity

personaldevelopment

Personal Development

Oliver Napoleon Hill was an American self-help author. He is best known for his book Think and Grow Rich, which is among the best-selling self-help books of all time. Hill's works insisted that fervid expectations are essential to improving one's life.

Napoleon Hill

Think and Grow Rich

"It's only after you've lost everything that you're free to do anything."

"Reject the basic assumptions of civilization, especially the importance of material possessions."

“I found freedom.“Losing all hope was freedom.”

“THE LOWER YOU FALL, THE HIGHER YOU'LL FLY.”

“The things you own end up owning you.”

“With insomnia, nothing's real. Everything's far away.Everything's a copy of a copy of a copy.”

”Know that some day, you're gonna die.”

“You wanna make an omelette you gotta break some eggs.”

“You met me at a very strange time in my life.”

“If you wake up at a different time, in a different place, could you wake up as a different person?”

“If you died right now, how would you feel about your life?”

"Maybe we should always assume the worst."

“Stop trying to control everything and just let go!”

“Marla's philosophy of lifewas that she might die at any moment. The tragedy, she said, was that she didn’t ”

“Listen to me. You have to consider the possibility that God does not like you!”

“Our great war's a spiritual war.Our great depression is our lives.”

“Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don’t need.”

We’ve all been raised on television to believe that one day we’d all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won’t. And we’re slowly learning that fact. And we’re very, very pissed off.”

“Damaged people are dangerous they know they can survive.”

videos

Videos

Quotes from Fight club

I want to say that we're not going to meet ourselves through walking. Through walking, we actually escape the idea of identity, the temptation of being someone, or having a name and a past. Being someone is only good for lavish parties where everyone tells their own story; being someone is only good for a therapist's office. But isn't being someone also a social obligation that drags along a foolish and exhausting story – because after all, everyone must stick to the image they've drawn of themselves?

A Philosophy of Walking

The freedom that comes from walking lies in not being anyone, as a body that walks has no past or history; it is only a whirlpool in the very old current of life.Nietzsche once wrote that breaking away is a difficult task, as severing ties or freeing oneself from the bonds of attachment brings pain and suffering. However, the benefits will soon become apparent.

The Freedom of Walking

Nietzsche's personal life was destined to be shaped by these very ruptures, separations, and withdrawals: from the world, society, companions, colleagues, spouses, friends, and relatives. But each break that deepened his solitude meant an ever-increasing expansion of his freedoms. He no longer needed to explain or compromise. His vision was clear and unbiased.

Nietzsche's Personal Life

Nietzsche would walk all day and immediately write down whatever his body, in its confrontation with sky, sea, and glaciers, inspired in his thoughts. "Thus spoke Zarathustra with his heart: I am a wanderer and mountain climber. I do not love the plains. And it is as if I cannot sit still for a long time. And everything that still comes to me as fate and trial will be in that new wandering and mountain climbing: but man, in the end, tests only himself."

Nietzsche's Thoughts

Rousseau claimed that he couldn't think properly, write, create, or be inspired by anything unless he was walking.The mere sight of a desk and chair was enough to make him sick and take away all his courage. It was during long walks that ideas came to him, on the road that sentences flowed from his lips and subtly marked his movements. Walking was the path that ignited his imagination.

Rousseau's Source of Inspiration

We don't belong to those who only think when surrounded by books, when books ignite a passion within them. We're accustomed to thinking in the open air - while walking, jumping, climbing, dancing, preferably in secluded mountains or on the seashore, where even footprints can spark a thought.

This “passionate affirmation of the simple life” explores how walking has influenced history’s greatest thinkers—from Henry David Thoreau and John Muir to Gandhi and Nietzsche (Observer) “It is only ideas gained from walking that have any worth.” —Nietzsche In this French bestseller, leading thinker and philosopher Frédéric Gros charts the many different ways we get from A to B—the pilgrimage, the promenade, the protest march, the nature ramble—and reveals what they say about us. Gros draws attention to other thinkers who also saw walking as something central to their practice. On his travels he ponders Thoreau’s eager seclusion in Walden Woods; the reason Rimbaud walked in a fury, while Nerval rambled to cure his melancholy. He shows us how Rousseau walked in order to think, while Nietzsche wandered the mountainside to write. In contrast, Kant marched through his hometown every day, exactly at the same hour, to escape the compulsion of thought. Brilliant and erudite, A Philosophy of Walking is an entertaining and insightful manifesto for putting one foot in front of the other.

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Read like a Pro.