A man's destiny depends on the passion that inhabits him. passion gives you a destiny and destiny gives you a road and the intimacy of the road brings relief from life's wounds.
a man's passion lives in the place and in the doing where he forgets himself. forgetting oneself means losing many rights that the image imposes on us. a wounded image will hardly let go and by not letting go it will not meet its passion.
It is a struggle between the wounds of one's story and the right of passion to dictate the path in which your destiny receives a true name.
Everyone puts a limitation on themselves, everyone has an unmentionable situation from which they flee out of fear or shame. 
In other words, each puts a reinforced concrete wall between himself and others so that others cannot approach beyond a certain distance, in order to protect himself from the fundamental trauma or wound of his psychology. 
This terrifying situation will always be avoided, even if unconsciously sought after, hindering full self-expression and therefore freedom; 
until something shocking appears capable for the first time of undermining fear from the top of the necessities, of breaking this form of self-defense which otherwise would always be re-enacted endlessly as an extreme act of survival. 
Giving up an act of survival is like dying, it's about assassinating one's old identity. From this point of view, the phrase that in order to be able to love one must be able to die many times, makes sense.
All things basic and natural get even the least reactive humans to get going. So love, eating and drinking are the three things your nature asks you to achieve.
The second two are necessary for one's livelihood, while the first is necessary for the continuation of the species.

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