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Heaven is a Place on Earth.

The little stone was, despite conventional wisdom, aware of his existence. He recalled whenever doubt crept in, the words of William Blake:

"To see a world in a grain of sand, and heaven in a wild flower. Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour."

If the world was in a grain of sand, and he was the equivalent of hundreds of grains, then what was the problem?

He knew too, that without stones like him and his siblings, the world as it was could not exist. There would be no roads, dams, concrete structures, euphemisms for altered mental states, beaches, mountains, hills, river beds, cruel means of capital punishment, a classic Neil Diamond song, ‘designer’ gardens, sewage farms, and fortune-telling gismos.

When crystals and other minerals were added in, their absence meant there would be no life at all.

Yes, the stone felt proud of the services he offered, who he was, and his purpose in and connection to the grander scheme of things.

“Of all his creations, perhaps God’s favourite is the tree.”

The tall, slender, beautiful silver birch adorned the front of a very large garden. She looked down at the little stone. She reflected that without the stones, her roots would struggle to keep hold, and indeed she would probably not be there at all.

Birches, like almost all trees were home to thousands of insects. She provided shelter and respite continuously for birds and other animals. Her siblings were the lungs of the planet. All the members of the tree community marvelled at the way they became beautiful, useful, functional and inspirational creations from tiny seeds. Just like animals and people, the circulation of energy around their bodies wove intricate patterns in the ‘ether’ and trees in turn were affected by the emotions of those ‘living creatures’ they supported.

This particular silver birch wondered what she had to do to get a ‘preservation order’ which meant she was unlikely to be chopped down and poisoned like others had been recently in the lane.

The destruction of the dozens of elms had been felt by all the trees and plants around the area. They had known about the imminence of the felling by picking up the thoughts of the tree ‘surgeons’. The little stone had felt it too, as her roots enveloped him at one time, and he was aware of the changes in vibration.

The wild herbs and plants would often laugh at the way some people ‘discovered’ them after millennia of their existence. They would despair that their essences were mixed with ‘man-made’ chemicals to create drugs which invariably had side effects on people. But their despair was nothing when compared to the joy found in restoring health in people, the pivotal role they played in sustaining life on the planet, and the joy awakened people got from being in their presence.

And for those looking for ways to find inner peace, all the trees set a glorious example. Just like Wordsworth’s daffodils:

I wandered lonely as a Cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and Hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden Daffodils;
Beside the Lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Sheep, deer, foxes, badgers, rabbits, voles, mice, otters, cows, geese, swans, ducks, goats to name just a few of the species that inhabited Wordsworth’s English Lake District would too appreciate the daffodils, each having their own reasons.

And those reasons would probably exclude an evaluation, other than to notice all was well in the world, with and between each of God’s creations. Whilst the introduction and expansion of animals grown for slaughter had upset the fine balance of nature, unseen forces had allowed the balance to return.

‘Peaceful co-existence’ worked. Foxes did occasionally cause mayhem amongst the chicken population, and dogs had to be kept under close control during the lambing season. When foxes were hunted by packs of near rabid dogs, followed by horn blasting blood-lusters on horseback, that peace was shattered.

It was shattered by badger-baiters, hare-coursers, bird shooters and dog fighters. Those at the lower end of the consciousness spectrum shared a common goal, to cause pain to fellow creatures for their ‘amusement.’

Peace, harmony and cooperation had long been the stated and unstated goals of ‘humanity.’ Aware custodians of the land new this, and conducted their affairs accordingly. The also knew that life would adapt, and would continue to function long after they and their descendants had gone.

Birds and sea creatures were bemused by attempts of humans to control and own the sky and the very depths of the sea. How deep could their claims go? Until they went through the earth and out of the other side? How high? Beyond the earth’s atmosphere, into space, to infinity?

Who owned the solar system, this galaxy, and the adjoining ones? If it were disputed, would be see a day when Billy Burger signs adorned Mars, and Hiram Hotdog had negotiated sole rights to Venus?

What hair products would be in the ascendant on Mercury, and which cola drink would be used to dissolve metals on Saturn. Which rockets to other galaxies would be sponsored by tobacco companies in their last throes for survival? How much buttox would be pre-injected into space travellers to ensure they looked good when stepping on to a new planet?

One of those who had passed from the earth plane reflected briefly on her previous life. Sarah laughed out loud when she recalled her attempts to hoard things, to be ‘better’ than her neighbours, to fight and curse other drivers during the period she commuted to ‘work.’ The total and complete absence of advertising, trivia, celebrity, interpersonal conflict and gossip when she first arrived made her feel fleetingly ‘homesick’. But five seconds later she was awestruck. She had thought in her earlier life whilst on earth, if there was a heaven, would you have to queue to get in? Were there ’executive boxes’ for the rich and famous, and would those who had been running the planet for their own ends be rubbing shoulders with the devil in hell?

All Sarah found were loved ones who had passed before her, her companion animals, and a million reasons to be cheerful. Just before she decided to reincarnate, she had given up trying to find hell. Religious dogma suggested hell would be full to bursting of sinners, and heaven would contain only the select few who had successfully manipulated the sinners into believing their God was the best, indeed the only God.

No, the absence of wailing and gnashing of teeth, several beings calling themselves God wanting to smite the each other, made her realise there was no such place. It was merely in the minds of many on the planet she was to return to. The idea of ‘smiting’ reminded her of a little ditty from an amusing novel she had once read:

Oh God of remorse

In heaven of gorse

Gave Noah a boat

The rest he smote.*

Whilst on the planet, Sarah had consciously towards the end of her life consulted her Guardian Angel, Gabriel. As she had personally evolved, like far too many who advanced on earth, she had become obsessed with being right.

Gabriel taught her that the drama she was engulfed in was merely that, a drama. When the penny finally dropped she let go of all illusions of her personal greatness and dedicated her life to helping people discover their true selves.

Her ascent to be able to purposely communicate with God had taken her through working with tones, sacred geometry, numbers and the earth’s magnetic grid. Indeed she had been referred to by many as a mystic. In healing, she had come across many ‘Laws’, especially the Law of Truth which she had pursued with determination. Her quest for truth had absorbed her energy, and she had wondered at the end of it all, why?

“Why, if I am able, can I not communicate with the Creator?” She recalled Einstein’s words:

“I want to know God's thoughts... the rest are details.”

Like many awakened people, Sarah had marvelled at the incredible knowledge she had found, and the ‘unlearning’ she had to go through. Her personal quest had rightly led her on a journey of discovery. ‘What wasn’t possible when you could talk to God?’ was a thought that never left her.

Her dealings with the Law of Truth had unearthed some fascinating possibilities:

• What if God had always and did always continuously communicate with people?

• Just suppose everyone was special? Not special in the way they would become famous, but special in the way they were all meant be on the earth and each of them had a message?

• If God was all powerful, loving, compassionate, All That Is, then how could God need anything?

Where she was now had revealed to her that she was immortal. That neither she nor her soul could ever be ‘condemned to eternal damnation.’

The predicament of those enslaved by their beliefs could be summed up by the song, Old Man River:

Old man river that,
Old man river he must know something
But don't say nothing,
He just keeps rolling,
He keeps on rolling along.
You and me,
We sweat and slave bodies all aching
And racked with pain,
Tow that barge, lift that bail,
Get a little drunk and you land in jail.
I get weary,
And sick of trying I'm tired of living,
But scared of dying,
That old man river,
He just keeps rolling along.

Sarah had learned that by imagining energy coming up from the earth, through her feet, her body and out into space just above her head, she could be almost instantly taken to God, the Creator. She passed the little stone, the plants and trees, people and animals, departed spirits, angels and demons, the Laws as she went.

She dissolved in the love of the Creator. She just was, needing nothing, and from this place could change anything in her life.

Old Man River knows everything. His way of communicating with people is silence. He rolls on for eternity. Old Man River removes the fear of death, and fear of living.

Gabriel travels along the river, as do Sarah’s relatives and companion animals. Along its banks the beautiful trees and plants rustle and dance.

On the river bed once lay the little stone. Just before she went up to work with God, Sarah would sing to herself her version of a Belinda Carlisle song:

When I feel alone, I reach for you
And you bring me home
When I'm lost at sea , I hear your voice
And it carries me

In this world we're just beginning, to understand the miracle of living
I was afraid before, but I'm not afraid anymore

Do you know what that's worth ? Heaven is a place on earth
They say in heaven love comes first, Heaven is a place on earth, Heaven is a place on earth…

JS, June 08.

* taken from Malcolm Pryce’s book ‘Don’t Cry for Me Aberystwyth.’ References from Neale Donald Walsch’s ‘Friendship With God’ and Vianna Stibal’s ‘Theta Healing.’