Pick up a flower--a beautiful, living, fresh rose. It smells wonderful. It reveals a lovely rhythm in the swirl of its petals, a rich yet dazzling color, a soft velvety texture. It moves and delights us.
The problem with the rose is that it dies. Its petals fall; it shrivels up; it turns brown and returns to the earth.
One solution to this problem is to ignore the real rose and substitute a plastic one, one that never dies (and never lives). But is a plastic rose what we want? No, of course not. We want the real rose. We want the one that dies. We want it because it dies, because it's fleeting, because it fades. It's this very quality that makes it precious. This is what we want, what each of us is: a living thing that dies.
akin to only being able to appreciate happiness because of the possibility of pain and tragedy. connect to neil gaiman's take (in american gods) on going to the casinos to lose. sligthtly different approach but it hints at the same idea: that you need the contrast, that you need the bad to appreciate the good