The coward is not the one who is afraid. The coward is the one who listens to his fear and then pretends it is wisdom. The courageous one is the one who feels the fear—the legitimate fear of the unknown, of failure, of loss—and yet takes the step anyway. He knows that security is a grave. A dead man has perfect security. He has no problems, no risks, no heartbreaks. But he also has no dance.
The moment you are born, you are already dying. Between the first breath and the last, there is only a gap—a beautiful, mysterious gap. And in that gap, you have a choice. You can either live in the gaps between your fears, or you can live in the fire of the unknown. living dangerously osho
To live dangerously is to embrace this uncertainty as the very juice of life. When you fall in love, fall without a net. When you choose a path, choose it not because it is safe, but because it calls to your very soul. When you speak, speak your truth, even if your voice trembles. The coward is not the one who is afraid
Osho reminds you that life is a river. It flows only when it is moving, when it is leaping over rocks, when it is daring to fall down waterfalls. The moment it tries to become a safe, still pond, it becomes stagnant. It stinks. It dies. He knows that security is a grave
Look at how you have been taught to live. You have been taught to build a fortress. You seek the secure job, the predictable relationship, the unchanging beliefs. You want a tomorrow that looks exactly like today, only slightly more comfortable. You call this safety. Osho calls it a slow, deliberate suicide.