What is your living, actually? Not theoretically, not ideologically, not something which you try to cover up, but actually, daily, every minute of your life, what is it? Have you considered it at all? Caught up in a career, going to the office every day, being insulted, the inhuman indignities, the miseries, the despair, the jealousies, the uncertainties, never being free of anything, but always carrying burdens, always afraid, always competing, being terribly ambitious about nothing at all, being very clever and cunning, being hypocritical, saying something which you do not mean at all, playing along because you cannot get power or position - this is what we call life. A life of confusion, conflict and misery, a life of deep sorrow, anxiety, despair; and out of that despair, philosophies, hopes - that is our life. And we want to carry that life beyond death. This is what we know, and the other we do not know. We do not know really what is death, but we are frightened of it; therefore we say, "The misery, the conflict, the travail that I live in - that is good enough". That is you with your stupidities, with your problems, with the person whom you think you love. And unfortunately, you do not know what that word "love" means at all. All that you mean is the person, the family with whom you have lived, with whom you have done things, your companionships, your sexual appetite - all that is identified, and that is all you know; and that is what you call life.
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