Dreams of war, dreams of liars, dreams of dragon’s fire and things that bite – From “Enter Sandman” by Metalica
DreamBlogger – Ken Sheetz
Before we start, the Bermuda Triangle Meditations were done at a time of dark emotional grief over the loss of my father. I invite you to look upon my words as fictional therapy, fact on another plane of reality, or as both.
Night one of the meditations to heal the Bermuda Triangle got the ball rolling. But next morning I could not get out of bed until noon. Except for a 2 hour boat excursion to CoCoCay, a Disneylike version of a tropical island, I was knocked out cold. I lay in bed realizing this was not me, even if my father’s funeral had been the day before the cruise, this behavior was still not me, I was paralyzed by the enchantment of sleep.
After we set sail for Nassau I walked the deck beneath stormy skies. The Bermuda Triangle whispered sweet nothings in my ear about the comfort of oblivion on the waves. I saw myself sitting on the ship’s rail and sliding into the Atlantic. I shook off the dark fantasy, knowing I was in a life or death struggle and headed back to the safety of my windowless stateroom.
Tossing and turning back in bed again, I realized I’d slept 20 hours out of the the last 24. As midnight of day two approached my father’s spirit came to me.
I told him to go away and leave me in peace. But Dad was so eager to go to work it egged me on . Finally I began to will my sleep-caked eyes to open, calling on help from the angels, the ascended masters, Buddha, Jesus, my dream team of Laura, Sarah, Lee, Mee, Bradley, Mica, Ramon, Matt, Marta, my brother, to join my departed father in helping me get on my feet for round two. Time to do battle with a force that according to many ET experts was a failed ancient alien experiment gone wrong to create an artificial Merkabah meant to set earth apart from the universe and instead set us on a path of war and self-destruction.
At last I realized why I’d been unable to assemble a mediation team, normally a breeze: The Bermuda Triangle was a potentially lethal experience for someone without the ethereal armor my father had given me as he walked between life and death a few weeks ago before succumbing to cancer.
I struggled from my supernatural stupor to my feet and pulled on some clothes. The ship swayed and I bumped into the wall of the tiny stateroom. We were deep in heavy seas. It had been raining since 2PM. Another excuse that almost kept me in my windowless room. But I finished dressing and stumbled up the swaying hallway.
As I headed up the elevator for deck 12 I looked at the strange eagle pattern that’s grown in my hair in the mirrors. A pattern I feel on good days is meant to remind me this is all not a fantasy, but on bad days like this one was makes me want to dye my hair and forget all this as silly nonsense.
Climbing the stairs to the aft meditation spot, loaded with alien looking radar and sonar gear, I saw the diabolical Bermuda Triangle from space. Negative energy drew lightning from the sea, shooting upwards into the sky, a vision DreamShield’s Laura De León saw of battles as she worked remotely with me from LA.
The decks were slick from the heavy rains that had finally abated as I slogged up the stairs. It was 11:30 AM 1.22.11, Saturday night, less than 48 hours from my father’s funeral. I felt my father’s soul was just up ahead on deck, coaxing me on.
I knew if I was not careful this 2nd meditation would end with me blown off deck, never to be heard from again.
My Irish temper to beat this beast of a triangle reared up. I grabbed the compass, touched my head to the glass. I envisioned a golden circle circle surrounding the Bermuda Triangle. Now, with the help of my father, the angels perched on deck chairs and feeding me energy, I willed the golden band to shrink.
No sooner had the OM left my lips than the angels did their magic. Whoosh! The mighty triangle of 1.5 million square miles compressed to a tiny pinpoint of light.
Night’s work complete, I staggered against the strong wind for the lower decks. Comically a ship’s attendant was trying to set up a table for a GIN party who was getting blown around like a puppet in the winds. I thought this about seeing if this party was actually going to come together but instead I went to bed. I fell back to sleep instantly and had a dream of Neptune battling a sea monster for his freedom.
LAST DAY IN THE TRIANGLE
I awoke, last morning of the trip, feeling much better. On deck I smiled, pleased the seas were calm. The sun worked its way through scattered clouds. We were docked in Nassau. I looked again for Nadia, but voicemail said she was already somewhere on the island by the time I was up and out. I’d been to Parsadise Island with a lover 11 years ago and had seen the Atlantis resort. So I instead walked the streets of the city.
A native on a beat up bike selling peanuts seemed to be always near, even when I dodged him in shops. Sensing he was up to no good, I headed back to the boat.
In the ship’s bar, the Packers were playing the Chicago Bears for the NFC title on TV. For my Wisconsin Dad’s sake I rooted for the Pack, even though I’m more of a Bears fan, having lived in Chicago for 25 years. I felt Dad’s joy once the Packers were on their way to the Superbowl.
This last night of the trip the stars were out and the winds were blissfully calm. I placed my hands on the compass and there again was the tiny point of light of what used to be the Bermuda Triangle. The deck was all mine again and I asked the angels.
“Do whatever you think is right to turn this negative energy off for all times and in all dimensions.”
A magnificent golden light explosion rippled across the planet and out into the universe.
“And so it is,” I said and closed the energies.
I had survived and thanks to the love of friends back home, the angels and my father’s spirit we’d beaten the dark energies of the Bermuda Triangle that have been plaguing humanity for eons. I headed for the stern of the ship and the moon glistened over the sea. I looked up and saw Orion’s belt, a star system I know I came from in a another life and smiled. I listened to Katy Perry’s ET song and all was right with Neptune and the earth.
My bubble burst after we docked, low on cash from 60 days in global meditation and the unexpected funeral, even my cell phone was turned off. Through sheer will and love I managed to make it back to LA with a short-term loan from a pal.
I was feeling blue to say the least, and not blue angel blue. But no sooner did I arrive back in the City of Angels than Egypt’s people rebelled against their corrupt leaders. Change so fast after the angels work! Was it possible? Where was it all this heading?
I close this blog my father’s motto for living an adventurous life that I read for his eulogy as it rings again in my head:
“Proceed without fear of peril!”
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