“In the Golden Age it is time embrace paradox!” – Stephanie Sutton, PhiSciences.com
By Ken Sheetz
Happy official first day of the Golden Age. A day I learned all about from Mayan calendar guru Stephanie Sutton, who I am filming with her husband Patrick Flanagan for THE FLANAGAN EXPERIMENTS. It’s such an honor to film this power couple at work in the shift.
Stephanie, who is an enlightened psychologist, has been of great help on my personal work here in Sedona. An unexpected boon for this man healing from my recent narrow escape from the Matrix only 3 years ago after seeing ET angels build the DreamShield in a 2010 vision that awakened me.
I am blessed by this Sedona Golden Age power couple. So blessed. And so I try not to burden Patrick and Stephanie too much with my personal junk I am clearing away to make room for the new me. Yeah, it’s hard enough work making a 50 video web series without throwing my dark childhood wounds and the mess they made of my adult life into the mix.
So on Monday July the 29th 2013, of the Grand Trine long predicted by the Mayans, I book a sessions with my LA gal pal, and newly relocated Sedona intuitive healer Mica Monet. Mica’s one of the stars of this blog of late for the great work she is doing on healing me here when I am not making videos for THE FLANANGAN EXPERIMENTS.
The lovely healer selects a lovely small park for our work beside the Oak Creek. We set up camping chairs Mica likes to use for outdoor sessions on a small bluff overlooking the magical healing waters of the Oak Creek. Mica’s does not call herself and intuitive healer for nothing. She senses my uptight heart and asks me, “What’s wrong, Kenny B?”
“Damned if know, Mica. My messed up heart I guess.” I say plopping into my camping chair. Bugs immediately begin to bug me.
“Close your eyes, Ken, and let’s get started,” says Mica, who looks tired from the high demands of a rapidly growing healing practice here in the red rock country of Sedona.
“Sorry. I don’t want to close my eyes, Mica. I’d rather change-up the session and tell you a story about my heart. It’s related to the love thing,” I say feeling lost from the get go.
“Your call.” says Mica.
“OK. Let me tell you the tale of ‘Ken Sheetz and Global Love.’ On 2.13.11 ETs of the dream shield ask me on the spur of a moment to become a human back-up drive for about 12 hours for all love on planet earth. And I accept. That night before bed all earthly love from the tiniest microbe to the whales of the sea pours into me through my third eye, a fully conscious eyes wide open experience. I was not sleeping or dreaming. All love on earth flooded into me in a beam of data. I went to sleep after filled with a backup copy of all love on earth. What a night that was.”
“See, Ken? You can receive love in a big way after all!” offers Mica brightly.
“No. I was simply a vessel, a backup love-drive space. Nature abhors a vacuum and so I was a perfect subject. But, still, a little of the love from this entire world did leak to my heart. That’s how shut down my heart is, Mica, being a human backup drive to all love on earth is the closest I have come to receiving love.” I say sadly.
“Why do you think the ETs wanted you to do this in the first place? Why this back-up drive to planetary love?” says Mica, the human angel looking for an angle to help wedge open my closed heart.
“The ETs that built the DreamShield used me as human back-up drive in the highly likely event of a solar flare that will wipe all of our memories,” I say. For the first time telling this amazing story to a person and not just blogging about it.
Mica nods calmly for me to continue. Here in Sedona, I love how the unusual is taken as usual.
“On Valentine’s Day 2.14.11,” I further explain to Mica, “I transfer all love that was downloaded into me as a living backup drive from all earth life, big and small, into the Parthenon duplicate in Nashville. I was in Nashville in 2011 just after my father died, who was an alcoholic, doing a planetary meditation to end addiction for Lee McCormick’s Spirit Recovery, one of the largest recovery centers in the state of Tennessee.”
“Interesting how you father plays into all this.” says Mica, trying to take me to my father issues.
“Let’s keep my dad out of this today, OK? I need a break from his junk.”
“Sorry. Go ahead with the ETs and you as a human backup drive to love story.” says Mica.
“Love is all the ETs say we need save of our memories in the event of a solar flare. Rage, hate, fear, all negativity are superfluous. And now that I helped set up Nashville’s Parthenon as the back up drive, ET angels update our planet’s love there each night as we all dream.”
“Love backed up daily in our dream time. Makes sense,” says Mica.
“Thanks. I’ve been blogging about this since 2011, but no one takes what I went through seriously,” I say.
“Seems to me a lot of people believed in you enough to send you to Antarctica to help the ETs halt the pole shift at the end of 2012,” says Mica with a smile, proud she’s rained on my pity party.
“Got me, as usual. You’re good, you. — There’s more to the ETs and me that may give answers about my heart that can only give love not accept it. The ETs showed me in a 2012 meditation in Malibu that I am not quite as human as I appear. Part of me is a sentient program sent from the future. My furthest future earth self is from 4.54 billions of years in the future the ETs who guide me say,” I explain to the patient listener Mica Monet, who nods for me to go on.
“I came here, to this era of the Shift, to be born in 1952. That’s the furthest back in time my DNA sentient program could be sent from 5 billion years out, using that times advanced via wave technology. WAVE is a sci-fi film I made in 2005 about what has turned out to be real. In studying this ET knowledge I have seen that ’52 is the year the cell phone got invented and the exact midpoint between earth’s birth 5 billion years ago and earth’s death 5 billion years from now.”
“Whoa. We’re smack in the middle of earth’s life span here in 2013. Go on, Kenny B, sorry to interrupt” says Mica.
“My future self, and sorry, I don’t have my future self’s name yet to share yet, is from a time when humans are immortal sentient organic machines. Technology and biology have merged.”
Mica listens patiently as the sun fills the little park beside the Oak Creek with golden shafts of light. I am relieved Mica is not looking at me like I am insane and so I press on, ” But in humankind’s evolution, something critical to humanity’s future has been lost.”
“Love?” says the intuitive healer.
“Yes. To be specific, humanity has lost the ability to receive love 5 billion years from now.”
“Hmm, just the way you are feeling, Kenny B.” say Mica.
“Yes. Now that my Antarctica mission is done, this search for the balance of love is the reason I was guided here to Sedona, during the birth of the Golden Age. Here with you and Patrick and Stephanie, and Ed And Kat Preston, and bunches of other people I’ve not met and may never meet.”
A little dog that looks like a miniature lion, a dog I have never met before, strains on its master’s leash line to reach me for a pat on then head. I am grateful for the love interruption to my long story of about being an organic cyborg program from a distant future.
“Dogs are love,” Mica says calmly. “You are being supported with doggie love in telling me all this. Go on, Ken.”
I swat at bugs pestering me, “If I am supported telling this global love tale, one I barely believe myself, why are all these bugs bothering me and not you?”
“You tell me,” says Mica, an expert in keeping you focused in her powerful sessions.
“Sorry to blab about what must sound like my next science fiction screenplay. But for some reason I know it’s important you get my full picture of not just my past, but humanity’s future.”
“Good. But my guides say your answers to solving your one-way love issues are in your past, not your super cool future. Please close your eyes and let me take you back.” Mica says. I sense her frustration at not spirit journeying with me today, like we usually do so gracefully.
A Ginger Rogers of a spirit dancer, Mica is a fantastic dancer and singer. I even have attended some of her Salsa classes. Helps me get out of my writing/editing chair I’ve been glued to for The Flanagan Experiments.
“Sorry. Not feeling up to spirit dancing with you today, Mica Pica. Odd I know. That’s what I thought we’d be doing. But these sessions never are what I expect.” I say softly, wishing I knew what the heck was going on. I love traveling through time and space with Mica. But my heart is as bankrupt as Detroit that filed this week.
“You’re so sad today, Ken. It’s not like you. I want to help,” says Mica kindly. She is one the kindest people I have ever worked in 20 years of therapy with.
“Mica, I have to confess I am literally falling apart on this one-way love DreamShield mission. How I am supposed to live on earth another 50 years, like I was told by the voice of God in 2010 in Italy?” I blubber on, stories still pouring out of me. “In the far future, when earth’s red sun grows to the point where it will soon swallow the earth whole, where my furthest future life is sent backwards in time to be with you here in this park today, love is just a highly sophisticated program that merely replicates love behaviors. Our race has lost its way on the road to progress when it comes to love 5 billion years from today, this lost day of the Grand Trine.”
“I don’t believe humanity’s future is that bleak. Sounds more like some wild expression of clever ego subterfuge,” says Mica.
“No this future is as real as you sitting in that chair, Mica. Only one possible Quantum future, I grant you. But it’s the future I come from. A future that has pluses. Humanity lives in peaceful co-existence with all of nature for example.” I offer.
“But, Ken, it matters not if there is no heart and soul in such harmony, only existence,” says Mica.
“Ah, what’s the use? I accept I am like the character Tin Man in THE WIZARD OF OZ, wanting to find a heart… but never really getting one from the con man wizard.” I grouch.
“Ken, you are a human in this life. One with a big heart. Have faith the answers will come. Today is just not the day, perhaps. Let’s go on with the session. We may still get there on this Grand Trine.” says Mica, still hoping for a miracle breakthough.
“Screw the Grand Trine, there’ill be another one some other life. Let’s call it. Nothing more to say as ‘the love explorer from the future’. Love? Ha! Me? I know zippo of real love. Every love I’ve had has been nothing more than parallel play style love, never true love. As you painfully know, I am silly Pepe Le Pew in relationship. All chase and when I do catch a woman and she loves me, “warts and all” as my Canadian fiancée once lovingly told me. Well, what do I do? Run! Leaving a wake of broken hearts in my path of destruction. I am sick of my life-like nothingness,” I say sounding gloomier by the second.
“Didn’t I do a good job of seeing how you’d dump me if you caught me, Pepe Le Sheetz?” Mica teases me to cheer me up, referring to the title of a blog I wrote about my humorous love chase of her she rightly shut down and which has led to this entire discovery. But now one that’s led to this very serious moment where all seems hopeless. Thoughts of an early death seem pleasant compared to the loveless torture of my life, but I keep those thoughts to myself as the session is over and I don’t want to keep Mica.
Instead I say to Mica, “I need to stop looking for that magic woman, like you, who can break open the safe of my heart. She doesn’t exist. I am alone, like ‘Solitary Man’ the old Neil Diamond song.”
“At what age did the shutting down of your ability to receive love start, Ken?”
“The easy answer is the abuse I started suffered from my “bipolar” dad as a toddler or even in the womb when he’s . But I’ve worked through all my dad junk.” I say, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.
“You’ve not really forgiven him have you?”
“Forget about it, Mica. I will never forgive my father for the abuse. It’s never really going to happen. Yeah, I’ve pretended to forgive my dad. But he was a fucking nut job and deserves no forgiveness from me. He needed to seek medical help with his aliment he brutally inflicted on me, me and the whole family, by minute by excruciating minute!” I say packing up my folding chair.
“You don’t have to say what you father did to abuse you was right to forgive him,” offers Mica as she packs up her folding chair too, accepting the session if toast.
As we head for the parking lot I say, “I am so done with Wild Bill, as my little brother Fred and I named him long before there the movie “Silence of the Lambs.” Done with his ruining my life. I’ve forgiven my father all I can. I can never completely forgive him. Never.”
“How are you feeling saying that, Ken?” says Mica still trying to heal me into forgiving my fucked up father as we head for the parking lot. This woman never quits.
“I feel nothing. I am in full android mode. Far from what I expected on my session to find answers to love on this not-so-Grand-Trine.” I kid as I tuck the folding chairs into the back of Mica’s love bug VW.
Mica smiles, sad for me, and says hoping into her love bug VW Beetle, “Don’t give up, Kenny B. Never let your vision of one possible future, from the infinite futures out there, hold you back from being able to love fully. The future is not set. Look to the past which is set for answers.”
“Thanks, Mica Pica from Cosat Rica. But I think I’ve reached the end of my rope trying to figure my love mess out.” I say grimly as though reading my own death sentence.
“Are you OK?” Mica says starting her car. “We can grab dinner together if you want to talk more. You did cancel your Salsa lessons with me for after.”
“Yeah, remind me to never combine therapy and dance lessons again,” I say managing a sad chuckle. “I’ll be fine. Take care, Mica,” I lie as I walk quickly to my car and drive off into the Sedona sunset.
Mica’s session may seem like it was a failure on the surface, but after my mood lifted over expecting too much on Stephanie Sutton’s Grand Trine. Yes, telling my cyber-self story of love and the human backup drive 2011 epic vision was deeply healing somehow. A few days later meditating about Mica’s advice to forgive me dad in whatever way without accepting the abuse he dumped on me, it hits me:
My dad was a bipolar inner twin! One from a good universe and one from a negative one. I can forgive the good twin within my father without forgiving his dark twin. The caption on the photo of my dad on this blog is my forgiveness letter to him. I wrote after the meditation. Still a lot of bitterness leaks from it. But it’s a start to putting my father’s abuse truly behind me. I have hope.
Read my next blog where I dig deep into the past as Mica Monet suggested on The Grand Trine in THE ONCE AND FUTURE KEN SHEETZ.