For centuries, people have escaped from love to the monasteries, to the mountains, to the deserts, just to avoid all the opportunities where love can grow. They have lived in solitariness in caves, afraid of love. And there is a point to it: love creates much turmoil. Life without love has a certain calmness about it, but that calmness is cold, dead. Yes, there is silence, but that silence is of a cemetery; it has no song in it. It is not worth anything.
One has to transform love. And that cannot be done by escaping. One has to enter the whole turmoil of love and still remain alert, watchful, aware, so that the turmoil remains only on the circumference and never reaches the center. The center remains still.