You can’t have life and live it too.
In the same way it is difficult to both be happy and know you're happy at the same time. Because to know it has a strange effect like the sudden stroke of midnight on being it. To live life is simultaneously to lose it. To give it away. To eat it.
As you enjoy the cake it goes away, and since you know this, there is a tendency to save it so you have it. But if the cake remains a cake, then you never enjoy it.
As you live life you lose it. But this is the only formula for enjoying it, for which both a cake and a life are made. If a cake remains a cake, then it is merely symbolic, which wouldn’t be all that terrible unless you keep insisting every night at the dinner table that your uneaten cake is not merely a symbol but, in fact, is a real cake. It is then that it is terrible and false and fatuous and a lie and tragic and embarrassing. It is then it is merely a superficial decoration. The same with life. To actually be proud of the talent you wrapped in cloth and buried in the dirt, only to dig it out on the last day and present it back to the giver of talents, uninvested; present your life back to the giver of life, unlived; present your cake to its baker, uneaten; present your candle to the candlemaker, unburnt; is shameful; is wasteful; it dishonors the master and creator of joy.
It is the same as life being worth the enjoying of it. The only way to enjoy it is to cut it up and share it, to ingest it. To Lose it.
The same as the candle. It’s only usefulness and enjoyment is in its burning. Is the candle worth it?
Energy is only good, in the sense it is only useful, also in the sense it is only energy, if it is released. I can not use the potential energy I have stored on top of the mountain, unless I leap. Life is only good if it is given away.