If you hide a flower in a room where no sun reaches it , no wind reaches it , you may think that you are protecting it , but you are killing it ; you are committing a murder . It is with good intentions , of course : it is for the flower’s own good because outside there is wind and there is too much rain and too much sun , and you want to protect the delicate bud . So that it can become a flower , you hide it in your bedroom and you close all the doors and all the windows . It will die .
It can open only when it is connected with the sun , it can open only when it can dance in the wind , it can open only when it can enjoy the shower of rain , when it can have a dialogue with the stars . It belongs to the whole,it can only open up in a deep rootedness with the whole . Man remains a bud, his blissfulness remains a bud for the simple reason that he is too concerned about security , afraid of danger , insecurity , risk . So he keeps himself within a certain boundary and encloses himself in a protective wall . This is how he becomes a prisoner lived
Life can be lived only as insecurity , life can be Iived only as danger – there is no other way .