The thing about walls is that they never just appear. They are built. Brick by brick, row by row. Someone puts them there for a reason. All walls serve a purpose; either it's to keep things in or keep things out.
If you spent two weeks building a wall with your bare hands, lifting each heavy brick, the sun beating down on you, perspiration dripping down your back, would you come back the next day and take it all down?
Doubtful. Literal blood, sweat and tears went into it. You spent time, energy, strength and resolution to make sure nothing could get past it. So why would you break it down? You're safe, guarded and a little bit proud of the solid bricks you've placed together so perfectly. It's comforting and strong and now you can't imagine what life was like before it.
But this wall you built, it has no gate. It's high and it's impenetrable. Just like you wanted. Just like you needed it to be.
One day you look past your wall and on the other side is the most beautiful flower you've ever seen. Soft, colorful, full of life and like nothing you've ever seen before. You run outside, ready to bring that flower into your home and care for it and watch it grow. You hit the wall and are momentarily stunned. You almost forgot about the wall. You took the time to look past it and for a moment it didn't exist. Until you ran into it head on. And then you remembered why it was there. For every beautiful, rare and unique flower, there are 100 weeds ready to entangle you and make the world ugly.
You go back inside and watch the flower from afar, until one day, you decide that you need the flower more than you need the wall. Your fear of the weeds is not as great as your fear of never experiencing the joy of having that flower.
So you start the slow process of taking down your wall. Brick by brick, row by row.