An enlightened man had but one duty--to seek the way to himself, to reach inner certainty, to grope his wayforward, no matter where it led. The realization shook me profoundly, it was the fruit of this experience. I had often speculated with images of the future, dreamed of roles that I might be assigned, perhaps as poet orprophet or painter, or something similar. 	All that was futile. I did not exist to write poems, to preach or topaint, neither I nor anyone else. All of that was incidental. Each man had only one genuine vocation--to findthe way to himself. He might end up as poet or madman, as prophet or criminal--that was not his affair,ultimately it was of no concern. His task was to discover his own destiny--not an arbitrary one--and live it outwholly and resolutely within himself. Everything else was only a would-be existence, an attempt at evasion, aflight back to the ideals of the masses, conformity and fear of one's own inwardness.
Hermann Hesse, Demian. Die Geschichte von Emil Sinclairs Jugend
demian, destiny, enlightement, hesse, man