The Spiritual Diary of Dag Hammarskjöld, the Second Secretary-General of the United Nations and Nobel Peace Prize Laureate
“Hammarkskjöld’s spiritual and political legacy still resonates deeply today, even amidst the violence and turmoil.”
― Korea's first complete Swedish translation
― Recommended by Kang Young-an, Ahn Moon-seok, Karl-Ulf Andersson, and Rowan Williams

Like the footprints of someone who silently climbs an iceberg while crossing a crevasse.
A dazzling name tag, written under the light of social responsibility
A record of profound reflection, deep meditation, and true existence.

Dag Hammarskjold was an extraordinary international statesman and spiritual pilgrim who has been revered for centuries.
He died in September 1961 when his plane crashed near Ndola Airport in Zambia while he was on a mission to resolve the civil war in Congo, Africa.
The UN conducted three investigations at the time, but was ultimately unable to determine the cause of the crash.
Hammarskjöld was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, breaking with the tradition of not awarding the prize to anyone who died that year.
John F.
Kennedy said of him, “Compared to him, I am a small person.
He was the greatest politician of our century,” he said.


After Dag Hammarskjöld's death, a manuscript titled "Milestones" was discovered in his New York home.
The fact that he, who stood at the forefront of international politics as the UN Secretary-General, had been recording his spiritual experiences in a diary for a long time was quite shocking to the world.
In the sealed letter, he called these records “a kind of ‘white paper’ on negotiations between myself and God.”

now.
Right now, having overcome my fears of others, of myself, and of the dark underworld.
At the edge of wonder.
The familiar ends here.
But something beyond that fills me with the possibility of the source of my being.
The longing for openness is purified here.
Every action is preparation, every choice is a positive response to the unknown.
The obligations of superficial life have prevented me from moving toward depth, but I am slowly moving down, arming myself amidst the chaos.
To that place where the fragrance of white parasitic flowers holds the promise of new harmony.

At the edge of wonder.
--- p.107

The river of life that has flowed for millions of years, the flow of humanity that has continued for thousands of years.
Evil, death, suffering, sacrifice, and love.
What does "I" mean in the face of this immense current? Doesn't reason compel me to pursue my desires, my power, and the respect of others? Yet, I "know." Knowing yet not knowing.
From this perspective, everything is meaningless.
It is in this very realization that God is present.
--- p.116

Maintaining inner silence even in the midst of commotion.
To exist like moist soil, wide open and still, in the fertile darkness where rain falls and grain ripens.
Even in broad daylight, countless people sweep across the land, raising swirls of dust.
--- p.117

You are neither oil nor air.
It is just a point of combustion, a focus from which light is born.
You are just a lens placed in the flow of light.
Only through that light can we receive, give, and have.
If you try to save yourself by your own right, you are preventing the oil and air from meeting in the flame, and you are ruining the clarity of the lens.
Sanctification - becoming light or remaining in light, erasing oneself so that light can be born, gathered, and spread.
--- p.202

Life has value only through its content.
It's about doing something for others.
A life that is deemed worthless by others is more miserable than death.
So, in this great loneliness, serve everyone.
How immeasurably great is what has been given to me, and how insignificant is my 'sacrifice'.
--- p.215

Tired of people
I find loneliness
I don't even have the strength to fill it.

The wall of power
Come closer
In the waves of light
take a rest,
It will soon fall to pieces
It's going down like an ebb tide
From the lips
Leaving the pale beach
Into the bubble.
--- p.222

Humility is the opposite of self-abasement and self-promotion.
Humility is not comparing.
When you exist as yourself, you are neither better nor worse, nor greater nor less than anyone else.
Something like that.
Nothing and at the same time one with everything.
In this sense, humility is the perfect form of self-annihilation.
To empty oneself in humility, to become nothing, yet to personally embody the full weight and authority of the given task—this is the life attitude of a person who has been called.
A life of humility and freedom in communicating what one mediates in front of people, work, poetry and art, and simply and freely accepting what touches one's inner identity.
The winds of praise and blame, success and adversity, merely pass over this life, without upsetting its balance.

--- p.223