Five years ago, a house in our neighbourhood fell down, killing one of the occupants. This was an unusual event, and the impact was felt all over the area.
The couple who lived in the house were oldies, like me – but rejuvenated and in excellent health. It was an old house, which they loved, and had lived in for many years. They didn’t have it upgraded when the new technologies came in, preferring to leave things as they were. And no one would argue with that – it was their choice.
There was a small earthquake – just a routine adjustment which everyone had been forewarned about. But there must have been some structural weakness in the house or instability in the land beneath it, because that little quake was enough to push it over. Alice was gardening at the time, and Ted was reading in the lounge. The brick chimney fell on him, and his head was crushed beyond repair.
Unplanned departures are rare these days. There was a big, beautiful funeral. Friends and family flew in from Japan, Australia and England, and stayed in the guest house and cottages. We decorated the community hall with flowers and candles and photos. Everyone in the area attended. The grandchildren and great-grandchildren sang. People stood up and spoke about Ted and his life. We cried and feasted and talked into the night.
Poor Alice had to deal with the grief of losing Ted. But at the same time she knew – as we all do now – that we are eternal beings. Our lives here are just a tiny fragment of all the lives we have lived, and will live in the future. And friendships between souls are not extinguished when lives end – they continue from life to life. Also, as we rise through fourth density, it’s becoming much easier to contact people in the spirit world or Nirvana, so Alice talks to Ted every day.
There was no insurance, of course – no insurance on the house or its contents or Ted’s life. But nobody has insurance these days. We don’t have money, either. We left all that nonsense behind years ago, together with jobs, wages, banks, mortgages, and all the other gears and levers of the financial slavery machine. Instead, we take care of each other. So at least Alice didn’t have any money worries to complicate matters. Nor did she have to wrestle with all the paperwork that used to accompany a death.
She took up residence in a guest cottage with her sister and daughter, who stayed on to support her. Food and company and therapy were available if they wanted it, but no one imposed. They could stay as long as they liked.
Meanwhile, the ruined house was encapsulated in an energy bubble to protect it from the rain, and a group of us – including a levitator – spent a couple of weeks sifting through the rubble and retrieving as much as we could, which we brought to the lounge in the guest cottage. There Alice and her sister and daughter spent days going through her possessions and deciding what to keep and what to throw away.
In the end, she didn’t keep much; most of it went to the disposers. But as she said, going through the stuff gave her the chance to say goodbye properly to the life she’d lost.
When she was ready, she met with the planning team to talk about a new home. She wanted to stay on the same piece of land, if that was possible. It was; it just needed to be cleared and stabilised. She’d always liked straw bale houses, and now she wanted to build one. The straw could have been replicated, but the planning team found a place which grows historical grains, and they were happy to provide the straw. The construction itself became a low-tech community project which lots of us took part in and everyone enjoyed.
Of course, the heating and lighting and water and communication systems were high-tech, and the usual disposer and replicator were fitted, but none of these things are obtrusive.
Alice was very pleased with the result. So were we. In fact, we immediately went on to build a straw bale guest cottage, which has become a great favourite with our visitors.
© Sue J Davis 2015
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