THE DIVINE SEED WITHIN EACH OF US

Awareness: Look outside to dream, look inside to wake up

Meeting Benches is a website dedicated to art, creativity and sharing stories and emotions. Imagine a virtual place where each article is like a person sitting next to you on a park bench, ready to share thoughts, stories and moments of reflection. Imagine also that a digital artist, Dastilige Nevante, illustrates that variety of content, including poetry, writings, painting, photography, travel and music, to invite you to consciously explore all the shades of beauty in the world. If you want to know more you can visit its official website, where you can delve into the opposite of indifference: Awareness, a subtle art that flows between thoughts like a quiet river; each breath, almost like a thin silver thread, guides us, speaks to us, makes us attentive to the moment. Awareness can even be a falling leaf, a precious moment, the silence where you find your inner rest; the entire world shines and dances with it, every moment, by miracle, beyond chance. There are many poets who have explored the theme of awareness in their works. In her poem “We Never Know How High We Are”, Emily Dickinson invites us to reflect on our potential and on the awareness of ourselves. Offering us profound reflections on our daily life, Federico García Lorca, instead, in his poem “Corrente” speaks of hope, awareness and life. Many of Pablo Neruda’s verses explore inner awareness and the connection with nature. The Persian poet Rumi, chose to write poems that explore spiritual awareness and inner research.

“A Boundless Moment” by Robert Frost, a reflection on the beauty of living in the present. A BOUNDLESS MOMENT – He halted in the wind and, what was that doing in the maples, pale, but not a ghost? He stood there bringing March against his thoughts, and yet too ready to believe the most. “Oh, that’s the Paradise-in-bloom,” I said; and truly it was fair enough for flowers we had but in us to assume in march such white luxuriance of May for ours. We stood a moment so in a strange world, myself as one his own pretense deceives; and then I told the truth, and we moved on. A young beech clinging to its last year’s leaves.

“The calm after the storm” by Giacomo Leopardi, the awareness of nature and human emotions. THE CALM AFTER THE STORM – The storm has passed. I hear birds making merry, and the hen, back on the road, repeating her call. Here the clear sky breaks over there in the west, on the mountain. The countryside clears, and the river appears clear in the valley. Every heart rejoices, on every side the noise rises again, the usual work returns. The craftsman to admire the humid sky, with his work in his hand, singing, stands at the door; the little woman comes out to test the water of the new rain. And the greengrocer renews his daily cry from path to path. Here the Sun returns, here he smiles over the hills and the villas. He opens the balconies, opens the terraces and loggias the family. And, from the running street, you hear the distant tinkling of bells; the wagon creaks as the passenger resumes his journey. Every heart rejoices. How sweet, how pleasant, when is life, as it is now? When does man so lovingly pursue his studies? Or does he return to his work? Or does he undertake something new? When does he remember his ills least? Pleasure, the child of sorrow; vain joy, the fruit of past fear, whence he who abhors life is shaken and fears death; whence in long torment, cold, silent, pale, people sweat and palpitate, seeing lightning, clouds and wind moved to our offenses. O courteous nature, these are your gifts, these are the delights you offer to mortals. To escape from sorrow is a delight among us. You scatter sorrows with a generous hand; spontaneous grief arises and, of pleasure, that little bit that by monster and miracle sometimes arises from sorrow, is a great gain. Human offspring dear to the eternal! very happy if you can breathe from any pain: blessed if death heals you from every pain.

“Anthem” by Leonard Cohen, the extraordinary combination of poetry and song that talks about imperfections and awareness of human fragility. ANTHEM – The birds sang at dawn. Begin again, I heard them say, dwell not on what is past, or what is yet to be. Ah, the wars that will be fought again. The sacred dove will be caught again, bought and sold, and bought again. The dove is never free. Ring the bells that can still ring, forget your perfect offering. There is a crack, a crack in everything. That is how the light gets in. We asked for signs. The signs were sent. The betrayed birth. The past marriage. Yes, and widowhood. Of every government, signs that all can see. I can no longer run with that lawless crowd, while the murderers in the high places say their prayers aloud. But they have summoned, they have summoned a storm cloud. They will hear from me ring the bells that can still ring. Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack, a crack in everything. That is how the light gets in. You can add the parts, but you won’t have the sum. You can start the march, there is no drum. Every heart, every heart love will come, but as a refugee. Ring the bells that can still ring. Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack, a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in. Ring the bells that can still ring. Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack, a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.

“The Guest House” by Jalaluddin Rumi, finally, the horizon that encompasses the entire concept of acceptance and awareness of all life’s experiences. THE GUEST HOUSE – This human being is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a wickedness, a momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor. Welcome and entertain them all! Even if they are a crowd of sorrows that violently sweep your house, emptying it of its furniture, still treat each guest with honor. It may free you for some new delight. The dark thought, the shame, the malice, meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in. Be grateful for whoever comes, for each has been sent as a guide from beyond.