─ Chapter Twenty-four ─ What Really Matters

‘What really matters?’ asked Folina as she walked beside her favourite pond with Callum. It was a beautiful hot late July afternoon and they were both feeling very relaxed. They sat on a bench and saw a swan preening its feathers—keeping a watchful eye on its four exploring cygnets. It was a while before Callum spoke.

        
‘What really matters is that we know who we really are as Divine human beings and that the Love of the Divine permeates the innermost part of our souls—constantly. That all our thoughts and actions are filled with this Divine love that transcends everything. That we continue being transformed and losing ourselves in Spirit with ever-increasing frequencies of vibration.’

         Folina put her arm around Callum and squeezed him affectionately the said:

         ‘And nothing else really matters, does it—nothing else really matters. When I look back at my early life we were all occupied with so many things—growing corn, finding clean water and honouring our ancestors. Despite this simplicity of our life the tentacles of tradition wrapped themselves around the Truth—obscuring it and making it all so complicated—out of reach for ordinary people. Spirituality was the domain of tribal leaders and invading priests from the other side of the world.

         This did not fit with my experience of the world. I felt at one with nature and with all the creatures that lived around me—those that people could see with their eyes and other beings that only a few seemed able to see and interact with. Although our animistic beliefs seemed complicated and our lives were relatively shorter than people in the West we lived in a state of constant bliss—at one with nature and interdependent with it and with one another. Death was a reality and not to be feared. It was as near to what might be called Eden as I know.

How different it is here in England in the early 2020s. We have everything we need to sustain life yet the majority of people are dissatisfied and lack purpose. The tentacles that choke us here in the West are  materialism, lack of direct experience with nature, a lifeless and loveless religious orthodoxy and a hugely mistaken belief that human beings are in charge of their destiny and a dangerous false sense of security. People live their lives according to their natural senses and then they die where, at last, they paradoxically wake up! Those that have had a near-death experience have come face-to-face with their true spiritual nature, but even then, despite making promises to God many soon fall back into their familiar patterns of life. Belief has become synonymous with agreeing to a particular set of doctrinal statements instead direct communion and Oneness with the Divine.’

         ‘What do you really want to say Folina?’

         ‘I want to go home—to Perú! I want to live whatever remains of my life in this form with the people of the mountains and the jungle.’

         Callum hugged her.

         ‘I would love to come with you.’

         ‘And I would love to have you with me. What do you feel about this Callum?’

         ‘I feel we are being called by Spirit to live amongst your people, to love and cherish them—not to preach but to love and learn with them about the deeper things of the Divine.’

         ‘Your Spanish is perfect. How’s your Quechuan?’

         ‘A little rusty but with your help I’m sure I can polish it to a reasonable standard. It is Runasimi, the “people’s language” and I adore its rhythm, tempo and melodic flow.’

         ‘You have an advantage in being able to sing. I remember Kashish saying to me “Folina, my dear, we don’t speak Quechuan—we sing it from the heart.”

         They sat in silence for a while. A grass snake made a slow entrance from a bush, paused and lifted its head as if inspecting them then continued on its quiet way. Callum held Folina’s hands and kissed them before speaking.

         ‘The Great Spirit Creator is stirring up something deep inside our hearts. Being in the right place is relatively important but only in temporal time. Our commitment to Castlethorpe and our Soul Group remains and deepens. The Soul Groups are expanding around Planet Earth and connecting with Soul Groups and Beings from other planets. Spirit has been working on us, in us and amongst us—melting our egos, merging us in Spirit and moving us into a new phase of Spiritual existence in this form. It is irresistible and we bend our free wills according the beckoning of our Beloved.’

*

Hannah was excited to see Akarsh, ran down the stairs and opened the door to greet him with a prolonged hug. He was jet-lagged and tired but thrilled to see Hannah, even though they Skyped every day—whatever city he happened to be in during his month-long speaking tour across the United States.

         ‘I must get some sleep Hannah—the four-hour delay really threw me.’

         ‘Of course, do you want me to wake you?’

         ‘If I get four hours that should just do me—about 3pm please.’

         ‘We can have a late lunch together.’

         ‘That would be great.’

       Akarsh had always been interested in the psychology associated with computer information technology—particularly about how it impacts on individuals. The research that he conducted over ten years grew out of observation of people wherever he happened to be. Two people in a restaurant, engrossed in their smart ‘phones rather than the person they were with; the Tweets of senior politicians, children and young people bullying each other—not in the school playground or college refectory—but through social media; drones delivering narcotics to prisoners in prison and homes bristling with cameras to keep the families “safe”. Individual computer devices have become a hypnotic source and turned millions into techno addicts. Akarsh used the principles of observation to conduct a series of experiments. The subjects did not know they were taking part until a researcher intervened—a rather risky occupation—and encouraged them to do something different that did not involve them using their smart ‘phone or other mobile device. Another area of research was the long term impact on children and young people who play computer games. A cohort of 500 people across the world had been involved in this for ten years, aged between ten and twenty-five. A final research area was about the use of these devices for personal use and pleasure in the workplace. Researchers had anonymised photographs of lorry drivers using their ‘phone while doing a challenging manoeuvre at road junctions and roundabouts and roofers leaning on scaffolding high above ground texting their mates for example.

         It took him two years to collate and analyse the research, write the book and get it published. It had become a best-seller in record time and this was his final speaking tour to countries in all continents. His publisher had supported him in writing the book with a strong spiritual thread throughout which attracted diverse audiences to hear him speak and answer questions.

         What impressed Hannah the most was how egoless Akarsh was about becoming a best-selling author and being level headed throughout all the public and media attention. She too had trodden this path and knew it was littered with traps that ensnared good people.

         Akarsh did not need waking up and he strolled into the kitchen rubbing his bleary eyes.

         ‘Guess who I sat next to on the flight home from San Francisco?’

         ‘I have no idea.’ Replied Hannah as she busied herself making his favourite soup—homemade carrot and onion with crème fraiche.

         ‘Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee. He was telling me about staying with Eckhart Tolle and Kim Eng in Vancouver. They have known each other for many years though this was the first time they had spent time together without an audience in front of them. They have a huge amount in common but use very different vocabularies.

         ‘I imagine so—Eckhart hardly ever uses the word “God” while Llewellyn uses “God” and “Beloved” all the time. Neither of them talk much about their partners. Kim often leads sessions at events Eckhart is speaking at yet the most I know about Llewellyn’s wife is that she looked after Irina Tweedie when she was ill while living together with them in the flat in North London. So has Llewellyn really stopped speaking?’

         ‘He told me that he does not speak to the Sufi groups in the US, UK, Germany and Holland anymore though he has spoken at a few much smaller events on very specific topics. He is involved in a special project that Castlethorpe is also very interested in.’

         ‘Oh, what’s that?’

         ‘Rediscovering the lost mystery schools. Although he often refers to many ancient texts as “all being lost” he says he has recently been shown evidence that this is not the case. Most of them have for sure but there is a collection of them that were saved and kept safe in secret locations across the world. I had a conference call with Sarah, Eleanor and several Board members and got their agreement to share what we have discovered with each other and work on locating them together—a joint spiritual venture.’

         ‘Wow, that’s brilliant—how exciting!’

         ‘He’s coming here in a few days after visiting a friend in Scotland.’

*

Patrick was walking along one of his favourite woodland paths just outside St Albans. The sun was dancing playfully amongst the trees. He loved to gaze at the shafts of light as they flickered around him in the breeze. Leonard drew alongside wearing shorts and a T-shirt.

         ‘Hello Patrick, enjoying your walk?’

         ‘Hi Leonard, I love the way you just drop by. It’s strange that I’m never startled by your sudden appearances. Why is that?’

         ‘It’s because we are part of the same soul group and just before I appear your soul unconsciously sends out energy that connects with mine. It’s a short merging of energies that acts like a kind of buffer.’

         ‘That’s a great way to describe it. How about the other load of questions that I would love to ask?’

         ‘Fire away.’

         ‘When you are here the soul group can see you but other people can’t—right?’

         ‘That’s mostly true.’

         ‘Mostly?’

         ‘There are occasions when others can.’

         ‘How?’

         ‘It just happens because there is a reason for them to see me.’

         ‘Did they recognise you as Leonard.’

         ‘No.’

         ‘Even if they knew you when you were fully in this form?’

         ‘No.’

         ‘How does that work?’

         ‘I’m sorry Patrick, even if I did explain it your mind would not be able to comprehend the answer.’

         ‘How would you describe your existence since your death?’

         ‘One with The Creator of Life.’

         ‘I guess time is irrelevant?’

         ‘Yes, but I know how time matters to people in human form.’

         ‘Do you remember you?’

         ‘Ah, a classic and mysterious question—and I will answer.’

         ‘I is no more because I am one with the Beloved. I am the drop in the ocean. The ocean is in the drop. I am the ocean. I can see what I have said is difficult to grasp. Relax, don’t try to think it—live it. You can taste this now because it is what you were and are. I know I’m using time words but there is no other way.’

         ‘Everyone of the Seven has experienced what you are trying to explain in different degrees. I know it is about extinction of self—not just the ego but everything about the self that gets swallowed into nothingness. You are lost in this whirlpool of nowhere. Nothing remains—no path, no spiritual practice—simply nothing in the Being of God.’

         ‘Yes Patrick, that is getting close to it using words. Modern science is beginning to throw light on what could be termed “the dark side of God”. You have come across this in your study of the women esoteric teachers. It is not a popular teaching is it and you know why don’t you?’

         ‘Yes Leonard, I have seen it in many women’s teaching—more so than men throughout our planet’s history. Because the intoxicating love of God is a glorious place to be and a seeker finds it hard to contemplate losing it and transforming into an even sweeter and totally unfathomable state—being nothing in the being of God. This is not, as you know, confined to the Sufis’ innermost chambers of the heart descriptions—it is there in every religious tradition across the world—often obscured by layer upon layer upon layer upon layer of tradition, meaningless rituals, resistance, pride and ego.’

         ‘And the recent science of astrophysics and quantum physics is also getting closer, not to explaining the mystery, but to opening up new avenues of research that are stretching our intellectual abilities to the limit. The more we discover the more we know what we don’t know. I’m talking about the discovery of black holes and dark matter. We know these black holes exist somewhere in the centre of the galaxy. Well, you could also say that in the centre of the human heart there is a black hole that absorbs everything—transporting you beyond the beyond. It’s like a quote from a master who said: “Now I’m lost behind the secret’s curtain. The lost person doesn’t find again what was lost.” The black hole represents the extinction, the absorption and the absence of self. Here all consciousness is dissolved, lost in the inner emptiness, an extinction so total that nothing remains. This is the power of the black hole. It takes everything, even your light—all trace of the spiritual traveller is gone.’

         ‘That, Leonard, is totally extraordinary—it gives new meaning to “hole in the heart”—a Holy black hole—yet I find it somehow deeply assuring and get a glimmer of it on those occasions when I’m lost within myself.’

         They continued in silence for a while then Patrick asked something that had amused him many times.

         ‘Do you decide how old you will be and what you will wear when you appear.’

         ‘I get a sense as I begin to manifest which is not visible to even those who can see me once the process is complete. It is a tiny, tiny amount of temporal time on the cusp between nothingness and something such as when I saw you walking in this lovely wood.’

         ‘Wow! When I touch you I feel warmth and I see you are breathing—is this just for our benefit?’

         ‘Yes, touch me now.’

         ‘You are neither warm nor cold. Oh, now you’re not breathing.’

         ‘I am not human. I am not a reincarnation. I am the sum of all that Leonard was while on Earth. I see this does not surprise you.’

         ‘I guessed it had to be. You also seem to be able to choose who can see and touch you.’

       ‘That’s right. I must warn you that there is always a risk to these appearances of form. They can become a distraction. I am merely a messenger—a harbinger of the Divine, a signpost, like so many things such as ancient texts, teachers, gurus, Sadh gurus. I am not an angel—they exist to serve and are magnificent, dreadful, powerful yet even they just point to the Divine Spirit. They do not seek anything for themselves. I do not seek anything for myself in this temporary form because I have no self. This is what really matters. It is what each of you nine dear souls and those close to you are experiencing. You will never convince another human being to follow this path. There is no path. It is by God’s grace that they wake up and stay awake as they discover the depths of Divine love and then lose themselves completely—as you are all doing. The Divine in you speaks to the Divine in them. Your service is to point the way and let God and the angels do the rest.

         ‘Those three words “what really matters” have been bugging me for days. I see them everywhere—in adverts, on a bus, in a book , on TV—everywhere.’

         ‘Of course, this is because everything you now do in the service of the Beloved needs to be only in the what really matters realm.’

         ‘Will I know what really matters in every situation?’

        ‘Yes, the fact that you are asking that question means that you are starting to really understand that spiritual evolution and transformation is from moment to moment. You can sense it with every fibre of your being. It sounds terribly serious doesn’t it—nothingness, extinction of self—lost in the Divine but the paradox is that the more lost you become the lighter in your heart you become in the Darkness of the Divine. You will laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh until it consumes you—not like a cosmic clown but as the true you with a joy that bubbles, cascades and then creates a tsunami of God that totally overwhelms and envelops. Yet, and this is a Divine fact, everything is according to the free will that we have been given freely. The free will that is given by the Divine to people we meet on the train, by the beach, in the café, in the supermarket, at home, at work and at play. This cosmic conundrum I cannot speak more about, at least not yet.’

         ‘Are you coming back to Castlethorpe with me?’

         ‘No not today, in fact none of you will see me for a while. When we next meet all of you will be have shifted course along your pathways—the direction that really matters. There are things to cast aside and new things to experience. You will be split up for different periods of earthly time but will be closer to each other than ever. There will be endings and beginnings—Holy sadness and inexplicable joy. Fix your eyes on your Beloved my dear friend. Good-bye.’

         Leonard did not suddenly disappear—he faded into nothingness. That was his final message to Patrick and the others. Patrick continued on his walk sending energy to the trees, to the moss, to the fungi and all their millions of fine sub-terranean hyphae and to every creature that remained hidden or seen. He received energy back with a grateful heart.

         A day later at Castlethorpe he shared everything that had happened with Leonard and they all knew that change was in the air. They had sensed it as individuals but now they knew as a collective. Their experiences with other soul groups was to transcend to an extraordinary what really matters level.

*

Sarah was very aware of two things as she got ready for her archery practice with Val. First, that Val would be Castlethorpe’s next Principal and had discussed this with the Board when it met three days ago. Spirit had revealed this to her and two Board members the week before the meeting. Val was not yet aware but Sarah knew she would accept. The second was that she was going to shed her human form very suddenly and soon.

         Val had sensed a growing depth to Sarah’s joy over the past few months and that she was anticipating leaving this temporal realm. It is unusual for a person to know that they are going to pass within a short period of time, particularly when there is no obvious physical illness of any kind—apart from the aches and pains that most older people experience daily.

         The two women stood ninety yards away from the target. Sarah took her bow from its cloth carrying case and strung it ready for shooting. Alice, Mistress of Long Bow Makers, had created a beautiful longbow for Sarah made from yew and ash trees that had been growing in Alice’s garden for hundreds of years. She had sought their guidance and permission to select and cut certain branches to create her special bows. It had become a simple and meaningful ritual for this quiet, talented craftswoman. Trees were her friends and she would not cause them harm. She anointed the exposed wood with a herbal balm and the tree responded gladly by swaying its branches against the direction of the breeze.

         Before touching a bow Val had read Zen and the Art of Archery, a famous little book that is rarely read by archers. Its author, Eugen Herrigel, a German philosophy professor, was published in 1948. He describes his experiences studying Kyūdō, a form of Japanese archery, when he lived in Japan in the 1920s. It is credited with introducing Zen to Western audiences in the late 1940s and 1950s. Val gradually became a skilled archer under the patient and watchful eye of her mentor and coach. She shared Sarah’s bow. This is rarely done between archers for a host of reasons but it felt right and Sarah knew she would pass it on to Val when she passed.

         Sarah had relearned how to shoot from a standing position and although she was not as good as she was before her accident she was still very accomplished. Archery is an art, a science and a sport. Long bow is very different to the modern forms of archery such as recurve and compound with all their complicated sights, clickers, buttons, stabilisers, launchers and slings. Long bows have been used for thousands of years. A yew bow, found in some peat in Somerset, was dated to 2,700–2,600 BC. The technique on any shooting day will vary, depending on the weather conditions. Long bow archers miss the target many times during any session. It is a matter of trial and error.

A compound bow shoots an arrow between 300 and 350 feet per second—about 240 miles per hour—in an almost horizontal line.  A recurve bow can shoot an arrow up to  225 feet per second—153 miles per hour in a curved trajectory. A long bow can shoot an arrow up to 175 feet per second—119 miles per hour in a high curve trajectory. The techniques are broadly the same, whatever the bow, though long bow archers have none of accoutrement used on modern bows so archers utilise natural landmarks to take their aim such as a tree on a hill, a church spire or a telegraph pole.

         It took about six arrows each before Sarah and Val found the target. They did it for fun, enjoying each other’s company. All of the Seven had tried it and Hannah, Folina and Patrick were pretty good too. They shot for two hours with pauses for conversation before they decided to stop for the day.

         ‘Val there is something I must share with you.’

         ‘What is it?’

         ‘I’m going to die very soon.’

         Val did not react. She looked at her friend—who was smiling—a profoundly deep smile.

         ‘The Board and I would like you to take my place as Principal.’

         It would be totally understandable if these two pieces of huge news threw Val into a dither—but they did not.

         ‘Sarah, my dear friend, every part of my body is tingling in acceptance. If this had happened ten years ago I would have collapsed into a blubbering mess in a corner somewhere. Here I stand, your stringless bow in my hand and I feel the hand of God wrapped around my heart, mind and soul. Of course I will take the helm in the knowledge that Castlethorpe almost runs itself with the wonderful leaders and teachers that Spirit has brought to us.’

         Val packed the bow away and Sarah gently took both her hands in hers and kissed them.

         ‘Thank you for accepting this role—it’s just that—a role; what really matters is that the students are given every opportunity to wake up, to stay awake and to serve the Lord of Life in whatever ways that Spirit leads them.’

         ‘Is there anything I need to do to prepare?’

         ‘No Val, you are ready. Archery has been your training. The skills you have developed will also play an important part in the cremation of my body.’

         Sarah explained to Val in great detail what Val, if she agreed, would do. She listened intently as Sarah gave her instructions and tips. She concluded with a final suggestion.

         ‘An hour or so before the event shoot as many arrows as you need until you are confident of hitting the mark at thirty yards. This will be relatively easy for you as you have become very skilful at ninety yards. Alice will make all the necessary preparations and is expecting a call from you at any time. Let’s go and have some lunch with the others.’

         They placed the target and stand in the nearby shed and made their way by the orchard, passed The Labyrinth to the Place of Nourishment. Callum joined them along the way.

         ‘You two are glowing—what’s occurring?

*

         Charles and George had become nicknamed by students as, “The Two Kings” of Castlethorpe—to others as “The Two Queens” of Castlethorpe. In reality they were elders in the truest sense of the word. People came to them for advice—something they never gave. They told stories and helped students to work through their issues. Miracles happened. Lives were transformed—through them—not because of them.

         Charles’ vitality for a 103 year-old was a miracle. He accepted that his longevity was a gift to be embraced and he lived constantly in the present, ever open to his Beloved’s call and care. He was an emanation of the Divine. Charles and George’s love for each other was based on the love of God that was shed abroad in both their hearts. George was a quieter person—deeply academic and would not be surprised when later that day Folina shares what was revealed to her in the virtual labyrinth.

         Callum and Folina had been walking around the Castlethorpe grounds and now went their separate ways. Folina had a date with Jorge at the Virtual Experience Centre and Callum was having afternoon tea with Charles and George at “The Palace” as their grand cottage had come to be known. This was probably due to the fact that it was a scaled down version of the Manor House—turrets n’ all—it was a place where everyone felt immediately welcome and at home.

         It was about 80 degrees and the occasional tiny fluffy clouds—that reminded him of sheep—were not going to offer any welcoming shade. The roses were in full bloom as Callum walked up the path to their door. The smell of cow manure was rather strong though he could see that the roses loved it.

         The three men hugged in the just right temperature of the air-conditioned lounge and Charles and Callum sat down as George went to the kitchen to add the final touches to his renowned cream tea. It was, to Callum, even tastier than ever.

         ‘The trick,’ said George, ‘is to use the freshest scones possible. I made these only an hour ago according to a secret recipe I found on a scrappy bit of paper in of the Narnia Chronicles that I happened to be re-reading—I think it was The Last Battle. They are still slightly warm in the centre—in my mind the most important part of being a perfect scone.’

         ‘You’ll hear no contrary argument from me that’s for sure .’ responded Callum.

         They talked about recent events, both national, local and immediate and then, as ever, Charles got down to business.

         ‘Callum, both George and I have had the same recurring dream for the past three nights. Last night it transformed into lucid dreaming for both of us. It was simply marvellous, overwhelming and heartbreaking.

         We are all aware that our beautiful planet is, like us, a spiritual being and that the human race has been a very poor guardian of it—through exploitation, greed, thoughtlessness and lack of love and honour. We know that the Earth has on several occasions since it came into beingness taken control and totally destroyed everything that lived on it. The scars are there to see to even the most novice geographer and geologist. We have been shown—and I believe, that Folina is about to experience—that our planet has seven main chakras that, in many respects mirror ours. Yes, there are, of course, 72,000 Nadis and 114 Chakras but there have always been seven main chakras. We were taken an a breathtaking journey around the planet. I’ve always known I could fly but this was sublime—the merest thought or inclination changed our course—that is when we were not being steered by the Divine. Am I making sense?’

         Callum, who was listening intently replied ‘Oh yes, please continue.’

         We visited seven sights and it was revealed to us that each of these was a chakra of the planet. Around each was a feint outline of a lotus flower, its colour corresponding to the number of its petals. But there was more. As we descended to about 1,000 feet we became aware that each of these was also a forgotten or lost mystery school. And there’s even more. Each of these had a depository of ancient texts—each depository also had fragments of a scroll and we knew immediately that they would all be fitted together one day and many questions would be answered. It was thought that these had been lost. Many of them had been but the most important scrolls were taken before their locations were destroyed by invading armies from empires that had risen and waned. They had been hidden for thousands of years.’

Charles was in full flow now and took a deep breath before continuing.

         ‘The scene changed and we were now hovering over the Cathedral and Abbey Church of St Alban, whose spires and tower we can see from here. It was, somehow, in the centre of a huge labyrinth and the labyrinth itself seemed to float above what I can only describe as a massive black hole. Suddenly we were in the crypt of the ancient Abbey Church and Sarah and Leonard were staring at a wall. A green soft light radiated from it in waves. They walked towards the wall and then though it and disappeared. Moments later they returned each holding a scroll wrapped in green cloth.

         Seven locations. Seven depositories of ancient scrolls and other texts. Seven labyrinths. Seven chakras. Seven black holes. Seven Castlethorpe students. Seven soul groups. The seven of all become the One of All. Those words echoed in both our hearts before we woke up to another summer dawn in our final home here on Earth at Castlethorpe.

*

         ‘Hi Folina, come in. Are you ready for a trip of a life time?’

         Callum was the first to explore the Virtual Labyrinth and had talked about it enthusiastically. Folina had experienced many wonderful encounters in the actual labyrinth that Jorge had created years ago but was still sceptical about the whole virtual reality thing. Today she would be converted but way beyond her and Jorge’s expectations.

         Jorge spent twenty minutes preparing her for what she was about to experience. He had written the programme and knew all of its mysterious capabilities. Folina was prepared: headset with a new visor, earphones, gloves and tags on her feet, knees, elbows and waist.

         ‘If you want to stop at any time just remove the headset and earphones.’

         ‘Okay, here you go.’

         Folina was standing next to a huge labyrinth that was carved into wet sand. She bent down and lifted a handful and could feel the damp sand crumble through her fingers. She could smell the salty air, seagulls flying around and the sea a mile or so away—it was clearly low tide. Good, she thought, I’ll have time to explore before the tide comes in. She walked into the path of the labyrinth and as she did so it started to move with her. It was rotating and gathering speed to what she felt was a trotting place. Ordinarily she would have lost her balance but she felt secure in the pathway—secure that is until she started to sink into the sand. It did not impede her progress but there was no doubt she was being sucked in by it. You would expect her to be choking and disorientated by now—hardly able to move, but no, she continued on her way and could see the path ahead despite the sand rushing by her. She had an urge to fly so flexed her muscles as though she could. She did. She flew in circles at first, seeing more and more of the labyrinth pathway and then flew up and out of the labyrinth looking down at its swirling vortex. Its spinning slowed to what she imagined to be a walking pace and she became aware of many different beings of all different shapes and sizes following each other along the labyrinth’s pathways. She descended and flew over them and found herself waving and smiling to them as she passed by. She ascended again and could feel the warmth of the setting sun and the tide coming in. She landed nearby and watched as the beings flew out of the labyrinth and disappeared into the distance as the sea flowed over her feet and into the vortex of the labyrinth. Within a few minutes Folina was ankle-deep in water and the tide had done its deed. The labyrinth was no more and she felt elated and disorientated all at the same time. She removed the headset and earphones.

         ‘Wow, that was amazing!’

         ‘That took 10 minutes, said Jorge.’

         ‘No it can’t be, I was in there for ages.’

         ‘That’s the idea of what I designed as an initial immersive experience. The next one is very different.’

         ‘I’m up for it’

        ‘Within a split second Folina was on a flat grassy plain surrounded by snow-capped mountains. She could feel the earth move slightly and a labyrinth pattern emerged amongst the lush green grass that was gently blown by a warm wind. It was a huge hexagon—a shape that Folina had come to love. She walked slowly along its pathway to the centre not feeling anything in particular apart, that is, from being totally relaxed and in love with her surroundings. In the centre a padded chair appeared so she sat on it (Jorge had placed a padded wooden chair in the right spot of the programme) and enjoyed her surroundings. After a while the breeze dropped and everything was still. She gradually became aware of a fluttering sound and knew it was her dear friend Befawn. They performed their ceremonial bowing to each other as befits the occasion.

         ‘Our meeting is timely Folina. I fulfilled my promise to fly you around the earth many moons ago—indeed we have flown around this planet several times. Our flight today is for another purpose—a purpose that is also being revealed to Callum as we speak.’

         Folina thought it was wonderful that Jorge had created an extraordinary likeliness of Befawn in this programme though she was totally taken aback by what he had just said.

         ‘Climb on my dear child.’

         ‘Befawn often used this term to describe the relationship between them. It was a relative and accurate term as Befawn was several thousand earth years old.

         ‘They ascended and sored into the sky and quickly Earth could be seen as the beautiful green and blue globe that it is from space. Her journey then followed almost exactly the same the same route that Charles was explaining to Callum from his and George’s lucid dreams. The one variation was that the seventh labyrinth, chakra, depository and black hole was in the centre of the earth. The colour of the outline of this chakra was lotus. It was not purple as you might expect but a pure white speckled with sparkling bits of gold. They descended into the courtyard of a castle and Folina alighted.

         ‘Wait here my child.’

         Befawn drifted across the courtyard to a drawbridge and then returned. Come, we must now see the Great Connection. They ascended to the height of the exterior castle wall and then hovered. Gradually Folina could see six huge rays of white and gold light converging on a huge tree. As the rays met there was a silent explosion of light that shook the planet. The tree had quadrupled in size and the beams of white and gold light were now radiating from the tree following its roots and connecting with every tree across the planet.

         ‘What you see here is a visualisation of what can happen if all the soul groups work together. One black hole is capable of consuming this planet and everything within it. Here are seven black holes working together—yes, for they too are beings though your scientists have not worked that out yet. Describing nothingness and total annihilation to humans is impossible as you are prevented from understanding because of your behaviour towards the planet—a Divine being like we all are. The seven soul groups will act as focal centres of energy and when these merge like you have just witnessed the human race stands a chance of evolving to the next level within the Divine. Do you understand Folina’

         ‘Yes, I don’t know how I do but I do.’

         ‘Farewell until we meet again.’

         Folina removed the headset and earphones.

         ‘Do you have any idea how long you were in the programme this time?’

         ‘I suppose you are going to say ten minutes.’

         ‘No it was an hour and a half.’

         ‘You what?’

         ‘An hour and a half.’

         ‘Can’t be.’

         ‘Check your ‘phone.’

         Folina turned on her ‘phone—in rare disbelief and was flabbergasted.

         ‘What happened in there?’ asked Jorge. ‘The programme can run and run but I did not anticipate this long. The average time for a VR experience is about 20 minutes tops.’

         ‘Well, I met Befawn in the centre of the grassy labyrinth and then our worldwide adventure with the seven chakras and black holes began.’

         ‘I programmed Befawn in the labyrinth but nothing about chakras a black holes.’

         ‘Then what just happened to me?’

         ‘I can’t, for once, explain it but I think you need to gather everyone and tell them.’

         As Folina and Jorge were leaving the Virtual Experience Centre, Charles, George and Callum were approaching them.

         ‘You won’t believe what I have just experienced.’ Declared Folina.

         ‘How about an around the world flight to visit seven locations, black holes and lotus flowers—the Earth’s chakras!’

         Folina gawped, open mouthed—unable to speak.

         ‘We need to gather everyone together’ said Charles.

         Everyone agreed to meet in Eleanor’s lounge at 7.30pm. They sat in a circle and everyone except Leonard was present: the Six, Jorge, Eleanor, Charles and, on this occasion George as he had experienced the dream with Charles. Charles and George shared their account first followed by Folina. No-one interrupted as they spoke—they all sent energy to support the person speaking. They gasped at Folina’s account of the six rays of the light and the tree. Sarah shared that she had dreamed about her and Leonard walking through the wall.

         Hannah spoke first after a high vibrational silence.

         ‘So, in the past few weeks we have all been thinking about what really matters and what really matters is that we pay attention to what has been revealed to us today. I love the fact that George has been included by the Beloved. It is synchronistically important. I wonder what is in store for Sarah but I’m sure that will become plain.’

         Sarah looked around and smiled. There was not a hint of sadness in her eyes.

         ‘My dear friends, the time has come for me to leave you in this temporal form and to join Leonard in our mission. My death is imminent and my funeral, to which you are all invited, is planned. My successor, Val, been appointed and will take over when I have died. I have enjoyed having my legs back. I will be closer to you than I can possibly be in this body. Shall we have a drink together—I can smell some of Eleanor’s delightful canapes.’

         The group talked for several hours about many things and Sarah spoke with each of them individually in fond farewell. It was divinely joyous and sacredly sad but everyone knew that what really mattered was that they listen to and act according to what Spirit was calling this soul group and other soul groups to do. It’s all that really mattered.

         The location of a lost and forgotten mystery school was right on their doorstep and soon they would discover its contents—but that is another story.

         As the evening ended and the group dispersed to their respective homes. Sarah and Eleanor were left on the sofa, each holding a glass of Merlot and glad of the air conditioning that adjusted itself as people had left. They strolled outside, looked at the sky and then raised their glasses to each other to toast the planet and its place in the Divine Universe.

         ‘Eleanor, Val will make a fine Principal.’

         ‘Yes, she will Sarah.’

         ‘And you will make a fine companion to Leonard in the Realm of Oneness, or—speaking as one Deep Space Nine fan to another—like Odo returning to the Great Link with other Changelings!’

         They chuckled, emptied their glasses and hugged in farewell. As Sarah walked towards the garden gate Eleanor said:

         ‘Your departure is imminent isn’t it?’

         ‘Yes, it is, my dear friend—good night.’

         As Eleanor closed the door she sat down and wept. At first her tears were envious of her younger friend having been granted knowledge of her passing but these soon passed into tears of deep sadness—even though she knew she would see Sarah again when she visited from Oneness.

         Sarah knew she would die in her sleep that night. Everything was in place. She got ready for bed and before getting in decided to kneel and pray The Lord’s Prayer—it just seemed the right thing to do. She had no idea how it would feel, if anything, to be dead. Despite all kinds of mystical experiences no-one can say for sure what it is like to be dead and Leonard had given little away when pressed on the subject.

         She wondered how she would get to sleep considering everything that had taken place earlier and what lay before her yet amazingly she quickly drifted into a deep and restful sleep. Sarah’s heart suddenly stopped beating and her lungs stopped breathing at 3.30am. She was completely unconscious as she died and did not feel a thing. As she died there were no spasms—nothing. The velvety and welcome blackness of death took her. Sarah’s dear soul had departed her human form. She was home again in the Oneness.

*

Val stirred at 3.30am and knew immediately that Sarah had passed.

         ‘Goodbye Sarah.’

         Sarah had been clear that no-one should knock on her door until 7am at the earliest. Val soon feel into another deep sleep on her tear-soaked pillow.

         She woke again at 6.30am, got dressed and made some coffee. She had seen several dead bodies and had, as a medium, been the channel of words, thoughts and feelings of hundreds more people who had passed.

         The young sun was busy dispersing the early morning mist as Val made her way to Sarah’s home. She knocked, waited and knocked again.

         She went upstairs and saw Sarah with her arms casually by her side. She had a very slight smile and looked serene. The envelope marked “Val” was on the bedside table. She read it and got to work. The GP, even though she did not usually make house calls—certainly not at this hour—took the call on her personal mobile. She was half-expecting it and recognised the number from the instructions that Sarah had given her.

         ‘I’ll be over in about 45 minutes.’

         ‘Thank you Dr Watson’ she said, chuckling inwardly at the GP’s surname.

         Next she called Alice who said that everything was ready in the trailer and that she should be at Castlethorpe at about 11.30.

         Sarah had not shared everything. Several months previously she had been to her specialist for a full body scan and tests to check on how she was responding to the miracle of getting her legs back. She returned for some further tests on her heart as a cardiologist who reviewed the original scan was concerned about what looked like a very unusual defect that is notoriously difficult to detect. The cardiologist said that the defect had been there in a dormant state for many years and may never have caused any problems but Sarah’s renewed ability to engage in increased physical activity had activated it somehow and her heart was weakening fast, even though Sarah had no symptoms. Nothing could be done—even if she reduced her physical activity. Sarah was advised to take half an aspirin a day and she saw Dr Watson weekly to monitor her blood pressure and any early warning signs that might manifest themselves.

         Dr Watson arrived just before 8am—she passed Castlethorpe daily on her way to the practice. Val showed her upstairs to see Sarah. After the usual checks she confirmed that Sarah was dead and then explained to Val about Sarah’s heart defect and how she had monitoring her closely.

         ‘This means that I can sign a medical certificate of the cause of death now. A doctor from another practice will need to confirm this and, hopefully, will be able to do this today. There is no need to refer this to the coroner as she was under my care concerning this known life-threatening condition. She died of heart failure. Have you read all of her instructions concerning the funeral event?’

         ‘Most of them, yes, the person who will be creating the pyre will be here later this morning.’

         ‘I understand from Sarah that you will not be using a funeral director and will apply to the local crematorium as if the cremation will take place there. Make sure that you complete all the necessary paperwork and take medical certificates of the cause of death with you when you go to the crematorium. It is essential that the “medical referee”, a doctor appointed by the Ministry of Justice, reviews all the paperwork and authorises the cremation to take place at the crematorium. Once you have that document you can proceed with your plan.

         You can agree a notional date for the cremation at the crematorium—there is usually at least a two to three week wait—and then contact them soon after the event here and cancel it. I’m sure they will ask you why and you can tell them. I would inform the local authority what has taken place first. What you are doing is, in theory, a criminal offence but I know that Sarah has taken all reasonable steps to satisfy the Ministry of Justice’s criteria, except, that is, by applying for a licence to hold the cremation here. Sometimes it is unwise to seek permission when forgiveness is not necessary nor available. They both smiled. Many pyres have been held like this and nobody has been prosecuted—yet! Officially I can’t be seen to approve but with my heart I feel it is a beautiful that you are performing to a much-loved friend. I wish you all well and I know it will be a dignified and special funeral.’

         Val referred to Sarah’s instructions and the next call was to Sarah’s executor, Vera, a member of Castlethorpe’s Board. She said that she would come straight over and should be there by about nine.

         ‘Can you gather her closest friends together—we’ll meet in the room with the Tapestry at 9.30 for the reading of her will. This may seem unnecessarily fast but these were Sarah’s wishes and I agreed I would do everything I could to make sure they were honoured. Congratulations, by the way, on your appointment—you’ll be brilliant. See you shortly.’

         Val called everyone and informed them of Sarah’s passing and what the immediate plans were regarding the will. She said they would make arrangements for informing the rest of the Castlethorpe family and where Sarah would be until the funeral. They all agreed not to come to Sarah’s home yet but to meet together at the Manor House. It was sad sharing the news and many tears were shed yet, at the same time, the Beloved was embracing them with protective love around their hearts, minds and emotions that sustained them.

         The will reading took only five minutes. Sarah had given everything, apart from a list of items to named individuals, to Castlethorpe and for the Board to decide how the estate should be used. A pile of letters were distributed—one for each of her closest friends—detailing what item/s she was gifting them.

         ‘There are a few distant relatives alive and I’ll be contacting them today to inform them of Sarah’s death and the funeral arrangements’ said Vera.

         Everybody was happy to honour Sarah’s wishes to be cremated at Castlethorpe and Val assured them that an expert was on her way to build it. She also passed on Dr Watson’s advice about caring for Sarah’s body until it was cremated.

         ‘Sarah’s body will remain in her bedroom and I have adjusted the air-conditioning to keep the room very cool which is essential as we are expecting it to be in the eighties for the rest of this week. Assuming all the paperwork is completed we anticipate holding the cremation in two days at dusk on Thursday. Alice, Sarah’s friend, is on her way to build the pyre and prepare Sarah’s body so that people can feel as comfortable as possible if they would like to see her before her cremation. We will take it in turns to welcome them.’

         Everyone nodded in agreement.

         Alice arrived at 11.20. Her huge trailer contained a mountain of cut branches and twigs, covered and secured by a blue tarpaulin. She showed Val a fine muslin shroud and said that this is what Sarah wanted to be wrapped until the cremation. Val watched in awe as Alice opened a huge canvas bag and worked with such love and grace to prepare the bed, gently moving Sarah as she worked—first a plastic sheet with hard ridges, covered by a thin topper-type mattress and then a thick plain Egyptian cotton sheet that Sarah was carefully repositioned on. Then the ritual loose wrapping of Sarah with the shroud took place leaving her body in a relaxed and dignified horizontal position. Alice placed a finely decorated white satin pillow under Sarah’s head then then carefully brushed her hair and moisturised her face and arms.

         Val burst into tears and Alice let her be.

         ‘She looks beautiful Alice—the way you moved her and re-positioned her arms—it’s so, it’s so Sarah.’

         ‘It’s my job Val. I make bows and I care for dead people. We’re not finished yet.’

         She went to her car and returned with several LED floor lights that she placed around the room. Once all connected and illuminated Alice adjusted some controls and then set the programme to respond to the changing light conditions. She then took some herbs that had been sprayed with Sarah’s favourite essential oils and positioned them around her body. They were not overpowering but created an extraordinary aroma gently pervaded the room. The curtains were left open as per Sarah’s instructions. Finally she took out a small device and placed it under the bed—it started to play random pieces of Sarah’s favourite music—and then declared:

         ‘This is Sarah’s final resting place. It is not a viewing room. Those who come here will be changed. Sarah invites all her Castlethorpe family and friends to spend as much time with her temporal form as they choose. Sarah has left it but she welcomes visitors and honours their presence in Spirit.’

         Alice stood at the end of the bed, bowed her head, held Sarah’s covered toes in both her hands and said:

         ‘My dear friend, thank you for allowing me to do this service for you and get you ready to welcome the Castlethorpe family. Now I will rest and this afternoon I will construct your funeral pyre according to your instructions.’

         Val had never seen anything so beautiful and cried again.

         ‘Whoops,’ said Alice, ‘I almost forgot.’

         With that she placed discreetly boxes of ready to pull soft tissues around the room and offered a box to Val.’

         ‘I have plenty more in the car. Where am I staying?’

         Val showed Alice to one of the guest cottages. Alice flopped down on the bed and fell asleep.

         Alice had spent a long time with Sarah talking about the pyre—the look, the mechanics, the efficiency and its effectiveness.

         ‘The trick,’ she said to Sarah, ‘is in the painstaking construction, the selection of the right woods and the type of tinder to use regarding anticipated weather conditions.’

         What they agreed was a six foot hexagonal shaped pyre. Alice knew exactly how the pyre would burn based on the careful preparation of the ground and construction with precise positioning of air intake vents.

         Alice met up with the everyone for lunch in The Place of Nourishment. Sarah had notified everyone within the Castlethorpe family about Sarah’s death, spending time with her body and the proposed day and time of the funeral event. People were asked not to discuss the proposed cremation within Castlethorpe’s grounds with anyone and gave brief reasons why.

         Jorge was fascinated by Alice and her meticulous approach to everything—infused with Divine love.

         ‘Jorge, can you assist me please with selecting the actual site for the pyre based on Sarah’s wishes and preparing the ground?’

         ‘Of course Alice, we have a mini JCB—you know the sort cable companies use.’

         ‘Excellent, we’ll mark out a twenty foot wide circle then remove the turf and set this aside for when we return the ground to its former state the day after the cremation. We dig eighteen inches down with a gentle slope from the edge to the pyre, then create a concave dip within the pyre area itself. All of this is vital for an effective pyre as you will see.’

         ‘I’ll be guided by the expert.’

         Jorge and Alice erected a screen so no-one could see what was being done then they set to work. It only took an hour to prepare the ground. Alice then drove her car and trailer and parked next to the site.

         ‘Would you like to help me build the pyre for Sarah?’

         ‘It would be an honour Alice.’

         They started at about 2.30pm and did not finish it until 9.30pm. Val brought them refreshments now and then without peeking. Alice and Jorge unloaded a huge pile of large and small branches, twigs and containers of muddy balls.

         ‘There are from several trees in my garden that I use to make bows. These six heavy branches will form the points of the hexagon and we erect these first.’

         Alice had used a peg and some twine to mark out the circle on which the pyre would stand and then, using an ancient method, marked out six points for the heavy branches. She took a special fence post tool from the trailer, dug the first cylindrical hole then placed the first branch it—tapping its top to secure it one foot into the harder clay. Jorge did the next and then alternately until the six were in place. The construction then began in earnest using some long pliable but very strong branches first to weave a 12” vertical wall between the six heavy  branches. The next step was to lay a foundation of intertwined thick branches 6” above the concave floor of the pyre and secure to the six branches with pliable twigs that had been soaked in a special fluid to prevent them snapping. There were about 40 or more of these.

         ‘How strong do you think that is Jorge.’

         ‘It looks sturdy enough but I would not like to stand on it.’

         ‘That’s exactly what I’d like you to do—go on please do.’

         He gingerly placed his foot, then the other and moved to the centre.

         ‘Gosh, it’s like walking on the dance floor in the Blackpool Tower Ballroom—solid with a lovely bounce!’

         ‘That’s a perfect description for just how we need it.’

         The rest of the building was engineered with precision—weaving, latticing, tying and constantly checking that the right strength of branches and twigs were placed in the correct position. Throughout Alice placed what looked like 6” balls of mud connected with some fine electronic cable.

         ‘Shhh—it’s a trade secret!’ she said in response to Jorge’s puzzled look.

         Branch by branch, twig by twig the pyre took shape. It was a steep learning curve for Jorge and he will never forget the patient way that Alice instructed him in the art and science of pyre construction. There were 5 six inch air intake channels within the pyre and one 12” channel that led to a globe that would emit a bright yellow light at the centre of the pyre at the appointed moment. It’s not, most definitely not a hastily built bonfire.

         ‘A pyre,’ said Alice, ‘is a natural catafalque of love and destruction. It must consume a dead person’s body with natural ferocity and effectiveness. Most people never see a human body burn. There is a beautiful purity about it that words can’t explain. In a typical crematorium the coffin either remains on the catafalque while the mourners leave or it is obscured from view by either curtains or mechanical means. Unless you insist on seeing the burning, that’s the end. Unlike burial the connection with returning to the earth is lost. There is no immediate “earth to earth”—“just dust to dust” and you may be surprised by how many plastic urns of ashes are never collected by families. Of course, people do all sorts of things with ashes nowadays. On a pyre we have the drama of flame, the safe proximity of watchers and the connection of returning to the earth—in one stroke as it were. The location of the pyre marks the spot of destruction with the automatic internment of a body’s ashes—mingled with the gladly donated branches of loving trees—the same trees that I made Sarah’s long bow from.

         Thousands of bodies are burned by the river Ganges in Varanasi—the ashes are usually tipped into the Ganges. Here at Castlethorpe is just another way of doing it though there is something intrinsically British about it.’

         Alice sat down with Jorge next to the completed pyre with a bottle of beer. They clinked bottles in an exhausted toast.

         ‘Well Sarah,’ declared Alice, ‘this is one mighty fine pyre—fit for a wonderful person’s body like yours.’

         Jorge gazed at the pristine hexagonal creation with awe and a profound sense of satisfaction and privilege at being invited by Alice to assist in its construction. He also lifted his bottle in salute to a close and much missed friend.

         ‘Sarah, here’s to you—your final scene on this stage , in this glorious play we call life on planet Earth. I think Alice and I have done you proud. All we have to do now is create something to carry you from your home to your pyre.’

         ‘And you have already decided exactly what that will be my darling’ said Alice with deep affection that took Jorge by surprise.

         ‘Do you know Jorge, you learn fast for an apprentice. I have the perfect and pre-designed carrier for Sarah’s body—I’ll show it to you tomorrow. When the pyre is lit you will really see the effect of what we have done today. After a short while the carrier will gradually sink into the centre of the pyre. This is all calculated according to the weight of the carrier and the body and the placing of different kinds of branches in the middle that will burn faster.

         ‘Alice, you are a truly gifted artisan—thank you.

*

         All the cremation documentation was completed by late afternoon so everyone could be informed that the ceremony would take place at 8.30pm two days later. Vera felt guilty about not seeking permission from the local authority and also for knowingly booking a cremation slot 17 days later at the crematorium which they would not use. She made sure it was paid for in full in advance—the vacant slot would quickly be filled. Two weeks after the ceremony Vera received a letter from the local council in response to her letter notifying them what they had done. The Council confirmed the technical breach of the law and said it did not approve of such an act of civil disobedience but it acknowledged, with a degree of admiration, all the steps that were taken to preserve human dignity, exceeding all environmental regulations and ensuring the health and safety of everyone present—no action would be taken. Two councillors, who were from opposing political parties attended the cremation—incognito—as they knew Sarah very well and wanted to pay her their final respects.

         The Five, Jorge and ten teachers took it in turns to welcome students and friends who came to Sarah’s home to spend time with Sarah’s body.

         Jordan had a brilliant idea and was one of the first to come to Sarah’s house. He brought a pile of brightly coloured self-adhesive strips of paper to make paper chains and a box full of crayons, pencils and felt tip pens.

         ‘If people want to they can write or draw something on these and then join them together when they see Sarah’s body. It could become a colourful blanket of love and help people to feel involved—even though they will turn to ash with her.’

         Vera, Folina and Patrick thought this was a wonderful thought. They had no idea how extraordinarily beautiful and meaningful the carrier would look, draped in paper chains, as the procession arrived at the cremation site.

         People could come and go as often as they liked and stay as long as they wanted to—any time of day or night until 6pm on Thursday. There was always someone in Sarah’s room and a couple of times there were up to ten. Every visitor stayed to pay their most holy and Divine of respects and left having experienced something very profound—it became one of the most touchingly beautiful experiences of their lives.

*

The last visitor left Sarah’s house at about 5.45pm on Thursday. The Nine and Alice had gathered in Sarah’s lounge and shared their reflections since Sarah’s passing. There was a knock on the door, Hannah opened it and welcomed Vera. They talked through the ceremony and the final preparations that needed to be made.

         ‘Would you like to see the carrier?’ asked Alice.

         Everyone nodded and Alice went to an adjoining room and brought in a beautiful rectangular carrier with four handles on it. It was a rich brown coloured wood and had carvings of leaves all around the edge. A human shape had been carved out of the main part of the carrier.

         ‘Sarah and I created this two months ago. She laid on it and I drew an outline of her before carving out the shape. There will be no straps. We will lay her onto this and she will fit it like a glove.’

         Val confirmed that the four bearers that Sarah had asked for had agreed.

         ‘When I asked Jordan he was overcome by the honour. They are all in their late twenties and are strong. Jordan will carry Sarah down with the assistance of two of the other bearers. and lay her on the carrier at 8.10pm.’

         Val had practiced an hour earlier and had hit a four inch circle at thirty yards every time.

         They left Sarah’s house and headed for the pyre after Jordan and the other three bearers had arrived and gone to be with Sarah’s body.

         They were awe-struck by the site. The pyre was a work of art. Jorge and Alice had placed a circle of rope thirty yards from the pyre. A box of candles, each with a wooden spike at the base were in a box ready. A hidden thin electric cable was connected to a power source with a button that Alice would press.

         ‘Oh my,’ declared Eleanor, ‘this is the exact site and date where lightening stuck fifty years ago—it was an amazing summer electric storm. Divine coincidence!’

         ‘That would explain the black mud Jorge and I discovered as we hollowed out the ground underneath the pyre.’

         They returned to Sarah’s house, shared a light meal together and reflected on everything that happened in the past month. Folina spoke first:

         ‘This is a huge event for us but what really matters is what the Creator Spirit has been showing us these past weeks. Sarah joins Leonard as messengers—heralds in the next chapter of the soul groups. We have been bonded together ever closer. It matters not where we are in the world. I know that we will communicate as often as we need to which, paradoxically, will be constantly—such is the power and purpose of the soul groups in our work as Guardians of Planet Earth. What really matters is that we bend our free will to the Divine and bow into nothingness with our Beloved.’

         Each spoke in turn confirming the essence of what Folina had shared then Jordan came down stairs and said.

         ‘It is time.’

         He went upstairs and returned carrying Sarah’s body with grace and ease. He laid her onto the carrier and Alice stepped forward to make the final adjustments. The bearers passed the fresh herbs to Alice who placed them around Sarah. Words cannot express how natural and comfortable Sarah’s body looked on this lovingly etched carrier. The bearers handed the inscribed paper chains to Alice and she draped them over the carrier.

         Jorge swiped the screen on his ‘phone and touched a green light that started the music that could be heard from the house and all the way along the candle-lit path to the cremation site. Eleanor and Val led the procession, then the bearers with Sarah’s carrier on their shoulders followed by Alice and Jorge, Charles and George, Folina and Callum, Hannah and Akarsh and Patrick and Vera. The paper chains gently swayed below the carrier as the procession moved along—it was indeed a beautiful sight.

         The first piece of music was terribly sad but fitting as they slowly processed from Sarah’s home—it was the theme title to Moses, the movie. This blended into sections of other songs and tunes that Sarah loved—several loud and lively. Jorge had created a symphony of love, passion and joy to accompany the procession and arrival at the site at exactly the right time when the final piece began: West Across the Ocean Sea from Vangelis’ 1492.

         Everyone in the procession was taken aback by the gathering—over 250 people were there to bid a final farewell to Sarah. The bearers proceeded alone to the pyre and gently placed the carrier in exactly the right position as instructed by Alice. They stepped back, bowed and took their places in what was now a closed circle surrounding the pyre.

         Eleanor had agreed to “officiate” a word she disliked but a role she would gladly perform. She had a high-tech tiny microphone so could speak in her natural mellow voice.

         ‘Welcome everybody. We gather together this evening to bid farewell to Sarah our beloved friend, Principal and guide and to offer her our final respects. In accordance with her wishes there will be no more music, no eulogies and no prayers. Our purpose is to witness her cremation and to celebrate her return to Oneness.’

         Everyone had been given a candle as they arrived.

         ‘I now light this candle and pass the light to the candle that the person to my right is holding who will do the same until the ring of light is complete.’

         This took a while but when the lighted candles returned to Eleanor there was a beautiful ring of candlelight. Everyone was now involved in the ceremony.

         ‘When you feel ready please step forward and place your candles next to the pyre. There is sufficient light but please mind the slope.’

         This was a lovely haphazard ritual in comparison to the orderly lighting of the ring of light. As Folina placed the final candle by the pyre she stepped back, bowed and took her place. During this part of the ceremony Patrick noticed a young woman who reminded him of Shamsha, one of the first friends he made at Castlethorpe many years ago, as they placed their candles into the ground. He had been showing Folina around the grounds and they met Shamsha  as she was leaving a learning session. The conversation flashed into his mind:

         Hello Patrick’ said a woman who must have been at least seventy. Don’t forget dinner at my house – seven sharp.’

         ‘Can’t wait Shamsha, I’ll bring a bottle of Merlot.’

         ‘Shamsha? Is that you?’

         ‘Yes Patrick, though in a different form as you can see. You’ll see more of me—I promise.’

         They returned to their respective places and though Patrick looked for her afterwards he could not find her. He knew they would meet  and wished her spirit well—thanking her for coming to welcome Sarah back into Oneness.

         The candles provided a lovely and intense amber glow around the pyre.

         Eleanor stepped forward once more and as she did so Val, Jorge and Alice stepped back and got ready.

         ‘Our dearly loved Sarah, we are glad that you lived with us. We feel sad that you died. We now commit your body to be cremated on this pyre of love—form to ash—ash to Mother Earth. Farewell dear one.’

         Eleanor and several others moved aside. Val stepped forward with an Alice-made arrow nocked on the bow and partially drawn.

         It was now time.

         Jorge stepped forward and lit the tip of the arrow that quickly ignited into a powerful red flame. Val lifted the bow and fully drew the string at the same time taking aim at the bright yellow light that was now emanating from the middle of the pyre. She  released the arrow and it found its mark in the heart of the pyre creating a burst of fire—the arrow had ignited one of Alice’s muddy coloured balls that were, in fact, loaded with accelerant. A second later Alice flicked a switch that ignited the other balls and the whole pyre was quickly alight.

         There was no wind and the tongues of fire quickly grew in intensity without hardly any smoke.

         ‘Nice shot!’ Val heard whispered into her ear. She did not turn around—she knew it was Sarah’s voice.

After five minutes people could just see the carrier as it slowly sank into the heart of the fire and was enveloped. Nobody spoke. Nobody moved.

         Twenty minutes later the pyre was smaller but the flames seemed even more fierce. Gradually, people started to move away and head towards The Place of Refreshment. After a further half an hour had passed about fifty people remained.

         By 10pm night had fallen and the Nine and Alice presided over the remaining fire. A few minutes later just Jorge and Alice remained. They moved towards the fire—gazing at a patch of red and golden glowing embers that would eventually extinguish to hot ash to cold ash—ready to return and nourish the Earth. Jorge and Alice held hands, turned to eachother’s tear-stained faces and said at exactly the same time:

         ‘It is finished!’

FIN