“Angels may be sneaky, but the stinkers have humanity’s best interests at heart.” – Ken Sheetz
December 4, 2011 – Important DreamShield 2012 Vision Report!
Back a few blogs ago I wrote of how at 11:11 PM, as Laura De León, did a meditation count down on the big stage at the 11.11.11 Ascension Convention we co-hosted, I saw the 11th vault door, so massive that it locked off the entire face of the Earth, turn red-hot as we meditated with the blue angels in our midst and that I saw the huge vault simply vaporize from outer space at the climax our day-long group 11.11.11 meditations. And when Laura handed me the mic, expecting some lengthy vision I had seen I simply said, “The angels melted the vault,” to the cheers of the crowd.
But I went silent because strangely I saw no heart of banks to warm, the 11th Vault meditation’s purpose that climaxed 6 months of meditation opening the 10 other vaults to this final vault. Or so I thought as I talk about in detail on blog link above (important to review to understand this latest vital vision fully) Why then had I been guided to do this meditation that seemed pointless?
So many mysteries. I’d not been so confused about a vision since this all began with my seeing the DreamShield in Italy back in May of 2010 that got this whole project started, set dates years in advance for key meditations, via a God-like voice and all. Then, a few days ago, came the amazing 11.11.11 after-vision you see pictures above, as best as I can render it for you, dear reader, and I became even more confused.
So today I surrendered and channeled Ohom, my higher blue-ET-angel-self, to get the scoop on what’s the heck’s going on!
“Ohom, millions of angels tugging on golden threads wrapped around the Earth, pulling the world through a hole in the space-time fabric left behind by our 11th vault meditation. What’s this 11.11.11 after vision mean?” I said, thinking I sounded more like a journalist than a channeler.
“Hallelujah!” Shouted Ohom. – By the way, you’ve not lived until you’ve heard an angel shout ‘Hallelujah’ in your echoing head. – Ohom joyously continued, “Rejoice! Your 11.11.11 event meditation, along with 5 million people across the Earth at various sacred sites, opened a portal to the 5th dimension. We are in the process now of what you call The Shift.”
“We opened a portal? I thought we were unlocking the vault to the heart of earth’s banks on 11.11.11?” I asked, feeling a tickle of anger.
“Sorry, it was necessary to withhold the true purpose of the work from you and everyone else on your world,” Ohom answered without shame.
“If you didn’t trust me to keep a secret, you could have at least trusted Laura De León, who ran sacred ceremony for event.” I said.
“Far too risky for the beautiful diva’s safety and yours. We kept all 11.11.11 events across the Earth scattered, moderate in size, and unaware of what you were doing so as not to draw attention of the dark forces. Forces that were, in fact, tracking your 11th vault meditation, which was all over the web. But as the dark ones know that banks are in fact heartless, as you too now know, the dark forces merely got a chuckle out of your work.”
“Their overconfidence is their undoing. The portal you and the five million opened means the Shift will succeed without question.”
“What if the dark forces close the portal, or block it?” I said.
“According to the Galactic Treaty of Pangea since it was created telepathically by your species, the hole in space you co-created with the 5 million signals humanity’s ascension and thus the portal cannot be closed.”
“Nice. All without any of us knowing what we the heck were doing? Kinda takes the fun out it.” I sighed.
“You mean the ego out of it?” Ohom laughed playfully.
“Laura got that ball rolling beautifully of ego to heart. At least one of us knew what we were doing! ” I groused.
“Let go your anger, Ken, lest you end up a modern-day Moses.”
“Left behind as the rest of the people entered the promise land? Swell. You mean there will be an earth that’s like the one we have today to get left behind on?”
“Yes, but it will not be like the Earth of today. It will be a place of total Ego, no heart, where the few rule over the many like cattle.” said Ohom with deep compassion that tinkled like wind chimes.
“Sounds like a typical corporation. Look, I’m doing my best, Ohom. But, frankly, I feel blackmailed into giving up my ego with this Moses stuff. And I sure ain’t no Moses.” I said, surprised at my own outrage.
“Ken, there’s not time left for soft-pedaling this. You must live from heart to make the Shift. I tell you this from love, not to blackmail you.”
“Sorry. I’ve been a bear to be around for over a month now. Where has all my peace of mind from the Work gone?” I said in hoarse whisper.
“The past and present are mingling in this transition, like the old caterpillar and the new butterfly in the cocoon. Both existing simultaneously before the birth of the new.”
“You make it sound poetic, but I tell you this caterpillar/butterfly thing is driving me nuts.”
My best advice: Look forward. Let yourself be happy that there is a higher power on humanity’s side, guiding all. The dark forces cannot win. I leave you in peace. Namaste, Ken Sheetz.”
“Namaste, Ohom. It is an honor to be part of you.”
Your love donations at DreamShield.org at the PayPal link on the page help me report work on the angel visions which, hopefully with your help, I will one day gather into a book.
Most of the shadows or this life are caused by our standing in our own sunshine. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
By Ken Sheetz
11.11.11 was here at last. The date that I’d been getting messages to hold a DreamShield event on since 5.5.10, when I saw the 7 foot tall blue angels build a force field around earth that was capable of harnessing the mass consciousness of humanity to protect this world and help manifest a gentle 2012. Looking at the sentence I just wrote, I still have a hard time believing the 30 some events attended by so many now and recorded on YouTube in over 200 videos from around the world in just 18 months has really happened.
Really, I don’t proclaim to believe to know what’s behind any of my visions, could be anything from a tumor to the real thing, angels from outer space, and here was all this happening and much more to come. And happening to a man not used to the public spotlight. A filmmaker who prefers to stay behind the camera rather than in front.
Unfortunately, come 11.11.11 I had been so busy helping put this event together, from securing our location event sponsor EARTH SHIFT PRODUCTS, also our 10.10.10 sponsor and to whom we are eternally grateful, to using my old architectural skills of making floor plans to marketing, via my social media company BuzzBroz, to arranging video production gear for the day, planning interviews with exhibitors and much more, that I’d not given much thought to my part in the ceremonies Laura De León had planned so impeccably for the day, but, out of love and respect, had left me the space to plan by myself. And I’d planned nothing.
What the heck would I do on stage, in front of all these people who had paid to be here, if I saw no angels? Sing karaoke? Do a card trick? I’d actually had one in my pocket I was not very good at. It felt like one of those college exam dreams where you lost your speech and had to go on before the class, naked.
Fortunately, Laura had plenty more wonders for the people to experience that day than me if I bombed. As Laura’s day of amazing workshops on ascension minded topics drew to a close I took to the stage and looked at the enthused crowd. A crowd that would have been larger but for the rains that were now starting to patter on the beautiful big tent that I thanked the angels was here for us. I’d been angry with the angels all week during the lousy weather forecasts. It hardly ever rains in California. Why rain and cool weather on this magical day of 11.11.11?
A voice kept assuring me, ” All is as it should be, Ken. These fine group of people who braved the weather are just what this meditation to unlock the 11th vault needs.”
“Easy for the angels to say,” I raged inwardly at the voice within me. “ETs and angels have no need for money. This rain means I just worked 15 hour days for three months without a day off without a pay day. Angels are lousy bosses.”
Very small of me, I know, chewing out angels. They don’t call me the Larry David of the spirit world for nothing! All my spiritual growth of the past 18 months was out the window. So when Laura asked if I could speed things up on my meditation as the night was already behind schedule, well, this did not help my disposition. Ironically, the theme of the night was Laura’s brilliant idea of humanity ascending from ego consciousness to living from the heart, and here I was having a ego trip about being rushed at my own event.
Yes, my angels love comedy. It’s a galactic reality show I feel at times with all of us as human cameras, cameras that also have every human sense recorded for the galactic audience to relish in. Kinda like THE MATRIX meets THE TRUMAN SHOW. At times, frankly it pisses me off to be laughed at so much. But ETs, as Jackie Salvitti of ETHEALING.COM, one of our night’s featured speakers, says, “ETs have a great sense of humor.”
It explains much. How boring watching us would be if our weather were perfect. Yeah, angels are stinkers that throw challenges at us that would make any reality show producer blush. You heard it here first.
But all my doubts and ego subsided as I looked over the beautiful crowd of eager happy faces in the tent. Honestly, Ive done a lot of public speaking in business and attended many events, but in all my 30 years of that corporate junk I’ve never seen a crowd as open as receptive and beautiful as the one gathered under the tent at Rancho De Las Palmas. The stinker angels were right. This was the perfect crowd to meditate on opeing the hearts of banks.
Then suddenly, as the crowd’s passion picked me up off my grouchy butt, dozens blue angels materialized, filling every the empty white seat scattered in the crowd. As I reported this news of ET angels joining the 11th Vault meditation, a thrill went through the gathering.
Now, I began to see earth from space and the golden vault door that was hiding the heart of earth’s banks. This earth-size safe cracking was a mammoth job I told the meditating crowd. Honestly, folks. Whatever it is we are we are far more powerful than we know. I could feel the energy of the crowd willing the vault to open. The crowd’s energy filled my exhausted body with vitality and I knew in that moment what has kept old performers like the Stones young and alive.
Next, I saw millions of angels pulling at the golden door. I shouted joyously the meditating crowd, “Imagine if we can open the vault and warm the heart of the banks! Banks with a heart would no longer fund wars, fund polluters! Banks with a heart would no longer steal peoples homes, impoverish us and would instead of enrich us. At 11:11 PM let’s open the vault!” I left the stage to applause, drained of my last reserves but feeling the energy of the crowd and angels building.
Laura turned to me as I took my seat and said, “Wow.” Which made me feel a whole lot better. I was almost myself again.
As the amazing night continued, the vision built. At Aros’ dolphin mediation I caught a glimpse of lasers cutting the vault. At Jackie Salvitti’s amazing ET healing I saw my higher angel self with a stethoscope trying to break the combo. At Renato Longato’s amazing speech about ETs and their role in 2012 I saw the circular pavilion, where the exhibitors worked flawlessly during the day, become a giant spaceship pumping energy to the DreamShield, where the White Tree of 10.10.10 still stood.
And rather than seeing something, during Laura’s amazing singing with Philippo Francnhini, I felt a spark of something new ignite in my heart. A spark that is still growing.
Finally, as Laura conducted the 11:11 PM mediation I closed my eyes and instantly saw the angels work reach its climax: The vault turned red-hot and simply vaporized in a shimmering wave. Laura handed me the mic and asked me to report what I saw to the crowd.
I felt like the stoic Bruce Willis character in THE FIFTH ELEMENT when all I said was…
“The angels melted the vault.”
6 moths of meditations on opening the vault to hearts of Earth’s banks, some very painful and poignant, but for the final vault this was all there was to it? I was hoping to see more!
But the crowd cheered and danced for joy in the puddles that seeped under the beautiful tent. I took a seat, too tired to enjoy the fun and wondering where was the heart of the banks? I expected the banks to have a heart, my theory, as explained in the video above, that since the corporations have fought to recognized as living beings that this would mean they have a heart was kaput. And I’ve seen the hearts of Apple and Disney and warmed them in past meditations with angels. Now here, blessedly, there was only Gia, Mother Earth, free of the banks that had been sucking off her like a vampire. But no bank heart to be found!
I can only conclude one of two things from the no heart scenario. One, the heart is hidden somewhere on this world or, two, and very chilling, that banks are truly as heartless as they seem. I prefer to think the heart of banks are hidden and that my higher self with the aid of the angels will find that heart and warm it. Ever since 11.11.11 I have been doing just that in meditations. Still not even a clue. God knows we need to find that heart!
Back to the 11.11.11 fun and a moment that stunned me. A couple that were in human form, but of other worldly height and perfection of form came up to me and congratulated me on the meditation with warm hugs. The male must have been 7 feet tall and the woman a good 6 foot plus. I asked if I could take a picture, thinking they were ETs, and they said yes. I turned to get my camera out of my pocket but when I looked up they were gone.
After working until 2 AM to pack up the event and collapsing into bed at the hotel in that exhausted state where visions come easily, I saw to my shock that a beast had been in our midst as the crowd danced! Our uninvited hairy guest was big and ugly, with the head of a black bull! I’ve been told by my spirit guides that this Minotaur was an angry Wall Street spirit guarding the 11th vault. Defeated, it was lost and out of job.
My spirit guide Angus assured my fearful mind that the confused beast was quickly tossed out of the tent by his Galactic enforcer clan, a vision to itself. I’d not seen any of this in real time as I was too tired.
Was I imagining this beast? Well, a few days later Laura would email me, without having heard my after vision story of the uninvited guest, that she had clearly heard a beast-like grunt come from near me.
And this after-vision of the Wall Street Minotaur would be just the start. There was much more to the visions of 11.11.11 to come in the following days and weeks.
LOOKING FORWARD TO 2012
12.12.12 is the last primary date the voice in Italy has told me must be honored to power the DreamShield for the completion of this gentle 2012 mission on 12.21.12. This will be a 10 day long symposium where all we have learned from 10.10.10 and 11.11.11 and other of the smaller events will be put to work. We’re going to have this one somewhere warm and dry tropical, Hawaii. Ha! Try to make Hawaii’s weather funny, angels! Oh, wait, volcanoes. Never tempt angels. Sorry, guys.
Too early for advanced 12.12.12 tickets, but stay tuned as I work on venue and sponsors, this time giving myself a full year to get this stuff done so I can enjoy myself at my own event! Meanwhile, however, your love donations at DreamShield.org at the PayPal link on the page help me report work on the angel visions which, hopefully with your help, I will one day gather into a book.
And stay tuned as well for a February the rescheduling of Renato’s DreamShield UFO Sky Watch which was rained out on 11.11.11!
“The oneness many in spiritual work have been talking about may be about something else entirely. Namely, oneness with our multi-universe selves.” — Ken Sheetz
I could write entire blogs about each of these visions but I will be brief and let the vision art I am creating do a lot of the talking.
#1 – 11.10.11
It was long day of prepping for the big 11.11.11 Ascension Convention event. Exhausted, I stagger to my room at the Grand Vista hotel near Rancho De Las Palma, the event site, tear back the covers and collapse into bed without even the energy to brush my teeth. I am instantly in that semi-conscious state that often leads to visions.
Soon my spirit leaves my fatigued body and I ascend above the Simi Valley. But the air is not normal. Rather it is like a great faceted diamond, pancaked from horizon to horizon. My higher self tells me that these fractals in the atmosphere are all different universes where I exist in many pieces and places. One universe, where for example, I am still married, another where I am still an architect, and so on, one universe for every possible choice I’d ever made or the world made for me.
My higher self now says it is time to unite all my divided selves. So I hold forth my hands and begin to will all my countless selves into this one vessel. Slowly at first, but with a growing speed that dazzles me, billions of my other selves start to integrate into one ascended self. As the amazing process continues at exhilarating speeds that are indescribable, the sky fractals become less and less until the sky is one and so am I!
Knowing I am done, my spirit flys back to my meditating body in the Grand Vista hotel and I fall blissfully asleep, excited for the magic that awaits me on 11.11.11.
“I may see angels but I am far from being one.” – Ken Sheetz
Two weeks ago, on the magical binary date of 11.11.11, I co-hosted a beautiful event about the ascension with a star-studded evening of speculation about ETs role in the Shift I’d been guided to create by a God-like voice 18 months ago in Italy. The masterful ceremonies and workshops had been created to perfection by the amazing multi-talented co-host Laura De León of MyMysticMuse. Just one problem. I was not very “present”, to put it mildly, for my own event.
I’ve been pondering for the entire time since, wishing I could have enjoyed something so beautiful that I’d help create, all stemming from an angelic vision I had in Italy for a gentle 2012. The 11.11.11 event is possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever been a part of bringing into this world. So why had I been so hard on myself and hard for Laura and others on the team to be around me that day and the weeks leading up to the big day? Why was Laura’s singing her amazing Babaji song with Philippo Franchini one of the few moments I truly enjoyed on 11.11.11? Exhaustion? No. This was more than simple exhaustion. The excuse I tried to hide behind post 11.11.11.
I took a break from pondering my failure to enjoy 11.11.11 to ponder the parallels of family dynamics in why I’d not enjoyed Thanksgiving this year. I was traveling from my Vegas Thanksgiving, back home, the way I’d been doing in these tough times for two years now, by a Greyhound Bus. The Friday 10 AM bus back to LA was 5 minutes late without any Greyhound announcements so I calmly asked one of the bus terminal attendants, “What’s the delay?”
The Greyhound attendant smirked at me and said in a thick Asian accent, “Buddy, you better learn something. This is Greyhound! Bus gets here when bus gets here!”
The people in line laughed at my expecting decent service for what is not that much less than a Southwest Airline fare.
A sweet little Black lady, with a white fur hat that made her look like a stylized rabbit out of Alice in Wonderland, turned to me from ahead in line and said, “Public transportation, mister. Gotta expect this kinda thing.”
I reminded her, like it was my duty as a remnant from a long gone, more caring America, “Greyhound’s not public, except for treating customers like a public toilet.”
Rather than laughter as I expected, people in line reacted in silence as though I was rocking the boat. “What boat? It’s a bus, you bunch of sheep!” I raged inwardly as I dug into my knapsack, grabbed the Thanksgiving leftovers Mom had made for the bus ride back to LA, the land of dreams, and thought back on my Vegas 2011 Thanksgiving, having a picnic in the terminal.
The trip got off to a rocky start in this very bus station on the way in to Vegas on Wednesday. My stepfather Nick, a fiery tempered Sicilian who holds grudges like a character who stepped right out of Mario Puzo novel (first suspect, please, if I am ever murdered) kept me waiting at the Greyhound terminal for half an hour.
A half an hour where I’d learn the Vegas Greyhound terminal front door is a den of prostitution. Unable to see through the dark tinted terminal front doors I was forced to stand with my backpack full of Mac gear, stranded, like a Thanksgiving turkey ready to be plucked by pimps and thugs who kept giving me the hairy eyeball.
Finally, after what seemed hours, Nick and my Mom’s car arrived. I quickly tossed my bags and myself into the backseat. No apologies for running late from Nick, of course. The crabby 83 year-old-man sat stoic and uncaring at the wheel. — Not unexpected. Nick’s not spoken to me much in three years since I read him the riot act over his outlandish claim I was trying to kill my mother by adjusting the condo temp by one degree downwards.
Most I’d hear from Nick on the entire visit was his yelling at my 82-year-old mother to “Shut the hell up!” when she screamed after he almost rear-ended a car. A retired as a prison guard, Nick’s belligerent treatment of my Mom, like a prisoner he was keeping in check, gave me heartburn. I had a coughing fit.
Mom asked if I was sick and I told her, “Nick yelling at you is the only thing making me sick. Well, that and being let stranded for half an hour as I watched other arriving passengers all picked up within the first five minutes.” Getting pissed at me snapped Nick out of his tirade at Mom and back to silence. Old training as kid from how I’d take the heat for Mom to save her from my real dad, who passed early this year.
Now, I managed a tense front seat to backseat chat where I filled Mom in on a few things in my life. We’ve never talked about the angels and ETs working for the cause of the Shift I see in meditations. And didn’t now. I guess I’d think she’d feel I’ve gone off my rocker. Why worry her? She has no concept of what a blog is or how to work a computer and has seen nothing of my writing.
Soon we arrived at the small one bedroom condo Mom has carved into a pretty home. She said to me timidly, not her style, “Hungry, Ken? We already ate, not knowing when you’d really get here on the bus.”
I played along, even though it was only 5:30 PM, and ate alone at the kitchen counter while Mom filled in my brother Fred, who had manned the condo during my pickup from Greyhound. Which was odd. Fred usually came to greet me. “Ken’s goin’ to Mexico for a film shoot next month, Fred,” Mom chirped.
Fred puffed on cigarette and grunted, “Beats gardening I bet, eh, Ken?”
Fred knew from our weekly phone talks, we both cling to like a family life raft, that I’d made a deal for social media barter where I was living at a spirit resort called BushWillows north of LA. Because they had gone into suspended animation on the resort for reasons unknown, the owners instead wanted gardening help instead of web work.
Now here was my brother, making fun of my doing manual labor to keep a roof over my head in the worst recession ever. How it stung me to the soul. What happened to my sweet “over the phone” brother I wondered looking at the grouchy Fred? Yep, a voice answered, four days with Nick contaminated his aura. He be back to normal when he returned to Wisconsin.
Mom sensed the tension with Fred and chimed in, “I bet you’re learning lotsa gardening stuff. Right, Ken?”
“Yep.” I answered meaning it, biting into Mom’s steak that was like rubber.
“After Mexico Ken’s filming in Hawaii first two months of the year, Fred.”
I could see Fred was puzzled so much good fortune had popped up since we spoke only a few days earlier. Now that the 11.11.11 event of 15 hours days of work for 3 solid months without pay was over and I could refocus my energy. I was beginning to feel some of the old fire that made me a millionaire in the past. Fred didn’t like me much when I was millionaire who’s most famous project was building Oprah’s Harpo Studios, and rightly so. I was a dick when I was rich. Not next time, if there is one, will it be so!
“Lousy economy might finally be lifting.” I muttered into my meal.
Soon as I finished my solo dinner and complimented Mom, despite how god awful the steak was, Nick put on his coat. Mom and Fred quickly followed his lead. “I just got here. Where’s everyone going?” I groused.
“Casino, ” Fred grinned as I steamed, “Relax. Mom and Nick did the same thing to me when I got here: Quick meal then off to the slots!”
So without even a chance to rest or a catch-up on life, besides the brief car talk with Mom from the backseat, I was soon in Nick’s car again and heading for the Orleans, a locals casino my mother and Nick frequent often for the loose Keno slots. Nick complained to my Mom as he cruised the Orleans multi-leveled lot for a parking spot, “Handicapped spots all gone getting here so late.”
I let the dig pass, as I let so much pass with Nick. For a comedy writer when I am not helping angels manifest a gentle 2012, this man is a gold mine for material. We parked not very far from the door despite my “late” arrival. I climbed from the backseat of the car, dreading the casino, already sorry I’d come. I limped for the casino, having slightly pulled both hamstrings hauling wheelbarrows full of compost early in the week at the gardens.
Sure enough, soon I found myself in the smokey noisy as hell confines of the Orleans casino, surrounded by drunken gamblers and haggard locals.
Fred plopped himself on a Keno machine beside Mom and lit up. Mom’s 82 but going strong and she was ready for action, silent Nick her bodyguard. It was almost as though I ceased to exist. I tried to make conversation, but the casino noise that keeps people hypnotized with noisy beeps and bloops and smoke won. So I excused myself and limped my way to my old Vegas escape pod, the movies.
We all agreed, Nick in silence of course, to meet back at the Keno spot midnight when the gambling ordeal had hopefully reached an end. I say “hopefully” because there have been nights when Mom or Fred or Nick get on a winning streak where they all stay out to 3 or 4 AM and I’d end up taking a taxi back to condo myself.
I saw two movies back to back to kill time and lose myself. ARTHUR’S CHRISTMAS, an instant classic 4 stars out of 5 and HAPPY FEET TWO, a doh doh bird of a penguin flick, 1 star. But I fell asleep so don’t take my word on the penguins if you enjoy hearing Robin Williams do a bad Spanish accent.
Midnight, when I got back to the Keno machines Mom and Fred were fighting about, of all things, meatballs sandwiches. I was relieved. The meatball fight meant they’d lost at Keno and so we’d be going home at a decent hour. Fred was craving a Subway meatball treat and would not be swayed. Mom who had won a little that week offered him $5 from her pot.
Fred sniped, “I have a paying job,” he said looking at me, who has not had a paying job since college, but who usually does very well despite that fact in a normal economy, “I pay for my own meatballs. And when I win I buy for everybody.”
On the way to the car, while Fred got his beloved meatball sandwich, Mom worried to me, “Fred’s been in a bad mood all week.” I took a look a Nick and thought, “Who wouldn’t be with that sourpuss around?” feeling compassion for my beloved brother and more for Mom who was living with this grumpy diabetic every day.
But then, surprisingly, my heart began to open for my fellow grouch Nick. At Souldrama in Italy I learned it’s what bothers you most in others that you are bothered most about in yourself. I saw the grouch I was around the loving dream team that had come together from 11.11.11. And here was Nick, in the bosom of a family that loved him, driving wedges between us all and himself. I saw the little boy Nick was who lived as an orphan on the streets of Milwaukee. No one to love him. And then I saw myself as an abused child who never knew what a happy family life was, wrecking the happiness all around me because I did not know how to handle joy on 11.11.11. And I finally forgave Nick for his junk and me for mine.
I was so deep in thought about my brother grouch Nick that I barely remember getting back to Nick and Mom’s condo after the casino. Fred ate his meatballs making a big deal of it to tease Mom, Nick pulled out the sleeper sofa. Mom and I made up my bed which I quickly collapsed into.
Despite the rough first day in Vegas I was still looking forward to tomorrow. I’d come to Vegas almost every year for 25 years for mom’s Thanksgiving cooking. She makes a great bird. Mom announced to Fred and me as the lights went out, “Night, boys. I’ll getting up to start the turkey cooking at 8AM.”
The night passed with fits of sleep as Fred snored loud enough to wake me. As I tried about 3 Am to get back to sleep I had a vision that was fresh and pure as I saw all the many sacred sites I’d mediated at since 10/10/10 ignite with bright white sparks across the globe, Vegas included where I saw the Luxor casino erupt, spewing energy to the DreamShield surrounding the planet. I saw it matched by energy flares from the real pyramids.
The dazzling clean and pure vision surprised me to full consciousness. “Why was a grump like me allowed to see such angelic glory?” I thought weeping into my pillow. I’d thought, or perhaps even hoped, that since DreamShield’s missions were on prime binary dates, that somehow after 11.11.11 my vision powers might end and life could return to normal. Whatever normal is in these crazy times with innocent people getting beaten down in the Occupy movements. I’d not talk about the visions with anyone next morning on Thanksgiving.
At 8AM as promised, Mom emerged from her bedroom, trusty flashlight in hand because the drapes were all closed. I peeked open an eye to watch her tip toe past as she swung the bright LED flashlight when suddenly she tumbled to the floor!
I bolted from the sleeper sofa and helped her up. Mom pointed the flashlight down at a cushion. “Twisted my back. How the hell did that get down there in my way?”
We both looked over at snoring Fred, who must have peed ten times during the night and knocked over the cushion at some point.
Mom softly giggled and squeezed my hand saying, “Go back to sleep, Ken. I’m OK, ” and she, putting the cushion out the way, went about starting the bird cooking.
Thanksgiving was here at last. The trusty old folding card table of 25 years of Vegas Thanksgivings came out as the Packer’s trounced Detroit on the old tube style TV. Soon the moment I’d suffered an 8 hour Greyhound trip and put up with the casino was here. The bird was perfection. Mom’s stuffing was great. All was heaven at last except for one thing that was missing: Mom. She was still in the kitchen cleaning up and missing the whole meal.
Then Fred did something that rattled my ego. As Nick came to the table Fred slid the chair for him. He even adjusted Nick’s gravy bowl to give more table space for Nick. And all my spirituality from the night before vanished. I was angry at Fred’s deference to this guy who made my visits to my mother such a hell.
Then Nick and Fred just dug in and started chowing down without waiting for Mom.
“Mom, I came all the way here to see you and have turkey,” I shouted to mom, cleaning up the kitchen like a mad woman.
“Yeah, come and eat, Mom, ” Fred chimed in, mouth full of turkey.
One possible answer to this mystery would come this morning as Deb, the BushWillows owner where I am staying observed about Mom’s odd behavior in her crisp South African accent as I dumped off a fresh load of compost, “Might be your Mum was cleaning up so she could get out of the house right after the turkey and resume gambling.”
Had my mother’s passion for gambling, some would say addiction, now eclipsed her time for dinner? Who knows? When she finally sat down when were all nearly done with her feast I tried to grab a picture of her only to be shouted at, “Don’t take my picture with my mouth full!”
My brother chimed in, “He did the same shit to me.”
I spun to Fred, camera in hand, “Shit? You call me taking your picture shit?!”
Mom sighed, “Boys, it’s Thanksgiving. No fighting.”
But I was furious and had to leave the table. I’d wanted to share my adventures surviving in Hollywood over the past year, my adventures in social media, my spirit project. And here I was fighting at the dinner table with my 58-year-old brother like we were kids while Nick shot my Mother a, “See?” look of satisfaction.
Later, I apologized to Fred and hugged him about the shoulders. He shared he’d been not having a good time this trip. Mom and he had been fighting the whole time for reasons he really could not put into words.
Soon as the second NFL game ended it was off to the Orleans casino again and the family disconnect. I saw two more movies, HUGO, one star for having a boring plot and bad child acting, and THE MUPPETS, of which I give zero stars and could barely keep my turkey down through.
Friday morning the alarm had been set for 8AM to get me to the station by 10AM but once Nick started to dress he did not slow down and I found myself on the way to the horrible station far too early. Mom tired to sit in the back seat with me but Nick would have non of that. He barked at my mother like she was a convict to be disciplined, “Get in front with me so you don’t have to jump out at the bus station!”
I patted Mom on the shoulder from the backseat as Nick sped for the station and she held my hand. Arriving 15 feet from the curb Nick parked in the middle of traffic. I came to the window and kissed Mom good-bye. She grabbed my hand as Nick raced the car off, until Mom’s soft fingers pulled away from mine.
As I finally shuffled my way onto the hour late bus I was an hour early for, the Asian Greyhound attendant who gave me such a hard to for my simple question about when the bus was coming kidded to the bus ticket taker. “Don’t let this guy aboard. Troublemaker. Probably drunk.”
I smiled sadly in agreement, I’d beem drunk on family rage and rage with myself for not ascending as Laura De Leon had so brilliantly realized was the mission of 11.11.11. I was stuck in my ego and not operating from heart.
But as I have written to Laura, when she sang like an angel on 11.11.11, something did shift in me. A small spark deep in my heart. The fact I can even write so clearly of my painful thanksgiving and feel compassion for Mom, for Fred, for me, even for Nick and his little inner boy from the Great Depression, gives me hope Laura’s spark is growing and that I am ascending and so is the world.
Long as the visions keep coming I promise do my humble best continue to report the angels work to you. I don’t profess to understand what they are doing or if I am really seeing them or if it’s all some amazing lucid dream I’ve been having for 18 months solid or it’s something they are putting in the drinking water these days. If you like my reporting please go to DREAMSHIELD.ORG to help me help with the work of manifesting a gentle 2012. Thanks, Ken Sheetz.
Now enjoy some Nelson Riddle about Route 66 which I traveled on for this Thanksgiving saga.
Greetings, Earth brothers and sisters! Ken Sheetz has given me permission to speak to you, dear reader, directly, about 11.11.11 and humanity’s ascension to a gentle 2012.
This is Ken’s higher self, Ohom. I am from, what you call, the Orion’s Belt star system. My species looks much like yours except we are 7 feet tall and blue skinned and have wings. We have lovingly watched over your species for eons. Some have called us angels.
The good news for humanity is that at joyous events like DreamShield 11.11.11 The Ascension Convention, hosted by Ken and Laura De Leon, well over 5 million people meditated as one at 11:11 AM and PM across the face of the earth, setting the intention of ascension in motion. Rejoice, for humankind has taken the first baby steps on a journey to the stars as a species capable of caring for your world and therefore full admittance to Galactic Society.
I warn you, however, despite your newfound 11.11.11 success, that ego plots against the heart like a dying movie villain trying to take all with him if he cannot win. Stay true on the path of heart lest you lose your way like the 1960s when so many light children became ensnared by material pleasures and were consumed by ego.
The time has come to put thought into action. Do something peaceful yet powerful to shake off the greedy selfish ways of a world run by Ego and enter the Golden Age of Heart.
On behalf of all sentient members of Galactic Society, we congratulate you on climbing the 11 ladder on 11.11.11. Your ascension is at last begun and begun well. Know that we are at your side to guide and protect whenever you call upon us.
Ken Sheetz back on the computer. I thought I was done blogging but another message is coming through from an earth angel pal of mine you’ve all met before, the fiery Angus McPherson. Angus leads the Galactic Enforcer Clan, here to help Earth prepare the way for the Shift, despite a temper that sometimes gets the best of him. He’s a scary to some on the outside, good for his job, but he’s a sweetheart who in the end always gives mercy to those deserving it rather than his swift sword.
In spring of this year, 2011, I witness Angus aid Archangel Michael and a host of his warrior clan touch down in Rome and do battle dark forces that have been corrupting the Catholic Church. I saw many demons slain to give the church a chance for a clean start. The victory was swift and sure. Even now thinking back on this stunning vision, which I’ve told only a few people about until now, gives me chills. Angus asks now I pass over the computer keyboard to him…
Aye, one look at the day’s news of evictions of the Occupy protestors sweeping the world shows me that my work as a galactic enforcer is far from over!
My hope is that it be of some comfort to you to know that I’ve been in hard at work the eviction business myself for close to a year now. Truth be known, skirmishes been afoot ever since my delivering the Galactic Council’s eviction notice under the treaty of Pangea.
Fairly given on December 31, 2010 at 11:59 Earth PST, this eviction notice is for all hostile ET forces to comply with the non-interference provisions or to depart this world via “Love Boats” we have provided no later than December 21, 2012.
Take heart lads and lasses, although the dark forces that have dominated your world for eons, pitting you one against another for pure sport, taking your gold off world to their own and leaving you with on holographic forgeries, and countless other atrocities that make my blood boil, are demonstrating with their spiteful ways that they will fight to the very end! Come 12.21.12, the dark ones cannot prevail against your determination and sheer numbers, not to mention the aid of Galactic Society for your ascension as full members. The dark ones efforts to starve you out, to mock you, the harm you are all being recorded by the beings of light and come 2012 there will be penalties long overdue for these stubborn usurpers.
Aye, my eviction continues as do their evictions of Occupy which serve as a mockery for the kindness we have extended . Hold firm and be of good cheer. They can’t stand love in the face of how they seek to throw you into fear. You victory is assured as I, and the rest of my clan, round the all up. We do this from Love until the final chance for them to vacate earth come 12.21.12. After such time there may be no love boats.
Change is coming and we salute you for your bravery and desire for a world where all shall live in joy and abundance.
Your faithful servant,
On 11.09.11 I had a vision of Angus and his eviction work. Seeking a major hostile ET clean up in advance of the many 11.11.11 events happening around the world a battle took place in the sewers deep beneath Wall Street. All hostile ETs surrendered rather than be slain by Angus and his enforcer clan.
But no “Love Boats” were in earth orbit at that time for evacuations. But such is Angus’ unlimited power, I once saw him tosses away an entire enemy fleet with a wave of his arm, that Angus flew out over the Atlantic and raised the Titanic from its slumber and landed it at Battery Park to take the hostile ET forces off world.
So it’s no wonder after all that he’s angry about the evictions in Zucotti Park! Stay tuned. I have feeling Angus is up to something big in the quest for a gentle 2012.
9:30 AM – GATES OPEN, RAIN OR SHINE. CELEBRATE TO MIDNIGHT!
Roam the Beautiful Gardens of Rancho De Las Palmas.
The MYSTIC MARKET is serving Vegetarian, Vegan and Raw foods for purchase.
10:00AM – OPENING CEREMONY – ‘A Chant by LAURA DE LEÓN, DREAMSHIELD EVENT CREATOR, to call in the Angels’ at the ‘PIAZZA OF ILLUMINATION’ near the Front Entrance.
10:10AM ‘OCCUPY YOUR HEART’ MEDITATION with DreamShield Founder. KEN SHEETZ. A Powerful Meditation on: ‘Unlocking the Hearts of the Financial Institutions and Corporations.’ Taking place at The ‘PIAZZA OF ILLUMINATION’ at the Front Entrance.
10:30AM – ‘GRATITUDE TO GAIA’ Ceremony with LAURA DE LEÓN Gratitude to Mother Earth for the life she has given to us all. Dance to her song and synchronize your breath with the beat of her heart at ‘THE PORTAL OF ISIS’ Main Terrace.
ELIZABETH ENGLAND – ‘WHAT WE ARE ON A CELLULAR LEVEL’ at The ‘TRANSCENDENTAL TEMPLE.’ An incredibly informative and magical journey into YOU!
MAGO MAGDALENA – Angel Channel and Artist – ‘How to Channel and Create a Bogagem Angel’ at the ‘COSMIC CORNER’
Nora Delgado – ‘COSMIC HEART LIVING’ TM held on ‘BLUE ANGEL ISLAND.’ Nora is a very Clear Channel bringing Healing and Unconditional Love.
12 NOON till 1PM – YOGA with Sri Thillet in ‘GAIA’S GARDEN’ Some mats available. Bring your own if possible.
1PM – World Premier Song ‘VOICES FOR AFRICA’ by TESS CACCIATORE at the ‘MYSTIC MARKET CAFE’. Listen, Dance, while you enjoy an amazing VEGETARIAN LUNCH.
Aros Crystos – ‘THE GALACTING HUMAN DOLPHIN CONNECTION.’ On ‘BLUE ANGEL ISLAND’ Learn how to communicate with these amazing beings.
Rehmania Dean Thomas – ‘TAOIST TONIC HERBS’
at ‘COSMIC CORNER’ (Rehmania is available for Consultations immediately following his work-shop)
Filippo Voltaggio – Intro to: ‘IMPROVING YOUR LIFE’ at The’ Transcendental Temple’ Using Improv to improve your life!
2PM till 3PM ‘YOGA’ with Sri Thillet in GAIA’S GARDEN
2:30 Regine Vavassuer – ‘ROMANCE ANGELS’ RPT at The ‘ASCENSION ANNEX’ Find out what your Romance Angels have in store for you.
Dorothy Donohue – ‘ LOVE and MIRACLES’ on ‘BLUE ANGEL ISLAND’ You will experience Soul Retrieval and Inner Child Healing. Learn to consciously connect with Source
3PM – Ro Elgas – ‘PERMA CULTURED’ – Produce A Yield and Share Surplus in ‘GAIA’S GARDEN’. What is Personal Permaculture and how can it improve our quality of life?
No Green Thumb necessary.
3PM – JOAN WULFSON – Author of ‘Stalking Carlos Castaneda’ teaches her ‘HEALING LIGHT’ workshop at the ‘TRANSCENDENTAL TEMPLE.’ Joan is one of the most profound healers of our time.
4:30 SUNSET CEREMONY – BALANCING THE FEMININE AND MASCULINE. Music and Chanting with Laura De Leon and Deepak Ramapriyan of ‘The Breath of Life Tribe’. On The ‘PORTAL OF ISIS’ Main Terrace.
EVENING PROGRAM – At The ASCENSION PAVILLION
5:30 – Mark Daniells – Mark of EARTH SHIFT PRODUCTS, our the Sponsors for this Magnificent Event, Kicks off the Fun!
6PM – WELCOME from DREAMSHIELD’S Ken Sheetz and Laura De León – CHANT to call in ALL ANGELS
6:15 KEN SHEETZ – ‘OCCUPY YOUR HEART’ Meditation’ “Unlocking the Hearts of the Financial Institutions” Part ll
6:45 – AROS CRYSTOS PERFORMANCE ARTIST accompanied by Musician and Singer ADAM FERRICK.
7PM – JACKIE SALVITTI – ET CHANNEL & HEALER
Get ready for one of the most extraordinary experiences of your life.
Q & A with JACKIE SALVITTI and The Team
DINNER – Feel free to enjoy some ORGANIC FOOD anytime during the program at the MYSTIC MARKET with Chief Jesse.
8:30PM Laura De León with an original song: ‘BABAJI’ A SACRED SONG dedicated to Babaji and THE ASCENDED MASTERS.
8:45PM INTRODUCING: RENATO LONGATO – A WORLD RENOWNED UFO EXPERT. Renato will share his amazing story and friendship with the ET’s. What do the Ascended Masters and ET’s have in common. More than you could ever have imagined *Stay for his Midnight Skywatch!
10PM PHILIPPO FRANCHINI and ALCHEMY – LIVE MUSIC in the ‘ASCENSION PAVILLION’ International Star and Musical Alchemist.
10:30PM Laura De León and Phillippo Franchini & Alchemy join together for a very special Ceremony: ‘OPEN TO RECEIVE THE LIGHT’ and the ‘I Agree’ Meditation.’ Come into alignment with your souls mission. Fill your heart and soul with cosmic love and light and shine brighter then ever before.
11:11PM 11.11.11ACTIVATION – ‘BREATHING WITH THE HEART OF ALL LIFE’
11:15 ANGEL VISIONS REPORT – Ken Sheetz reports what he saw at the 11:11 moment!
11:30 – PHILIPPO FRANCHINI and ALCHEMY – LIVE MUSIC and DANCING UNDER THE FULL MOON. What a treat to have this amazing band to serenade us on this MAGICAL Evening.
………… ‘SKY WATCH’ with RENATO LONGATO ……..… RENATO will ask the Space Ships to make themselves visible to us on this amazing evening. Will these friendly ET’s allow us to see their SHIPS? Could this be FIRST CONTACT for you? NOTE: This portion of the night due to heavy rains was canceled. Renato kindly offered to the disappointed crowd that he will hold another Sky Watch for us. Perhaps the ETs were not quite ready:)
“OH WOW! OH WOW! OH WOW!” – Last words of Steve Jobs as he passed.
DreamBlogger Ken Sheetz
November 1st, 11.1.11, first of the last the powerful binary dates leading to 11.11.11!
Yesterday was a hard-working Halloween; booking a block of discount rooms for our of town guests at the beautiful, and close to the event, Grand Vista Hotel (just mention “Rancho De Las Palmas 11.11.11 DreamShield” for your discount price of only $60 a night!), creating a new landing page for DreamShield on Facebook, and making thousands of new invites. But before I decide to climb from bed to start another marathon day of 11.11.11 planning and promotion I decide to meditate. Something amazing, even for this work for a gentle 2012 filled with amazing visions, happens.
THE ELEVEN LADDER
No sooner have I taken my first meditation breath when Archangel Michael appears instantly in my cozy room at BushWillows. Michael, a human-form angel, is dressed in white robes and wields a golden sword and gem encrusted shield. I am happy to see the powerful angel is ready for anything the retreating spoil sport dark forces might still throw at us.
He smiles down on my exhausted meditating body and says in my own voice, “I give you, Kenneth, the meaning of the power of 11s of 11.11.11.”
The number 11 floats from the palm of Michael’s hand to form a glistening ladder above my bed. “See now, the 11s are the two sides of a ladder joined by the cords of humanity’s DNA, at last being made fully complete on 11.11.11.”
I’d met many spirits and beings in this work so far and all have spoken in their own voices. So I ask, trying to hide my skeptical nature, “Why do I hear you with my own voice, Michael?”
Archangel Michael cracks a wry smile and says, “I speak to you, Kenneth, with your own inner voice, because my voice was created to speak to the whole world at one time. Your mortal form could not handle such a vibration as my true voice produces.”
This rings so true it sends a shiver down my spine.
“Now cease all suspicions and climb, Kenneth.”
I reach upward and take hold of the ladder. I feel my spirit slip from my meditating body as I climb through the ceiling of the aptly named Green Room here at BushWillows. The rungs of the ladder are cool to the touch and of a pearl-like material.
Shortly, I am above the city of angels here in the Shadow Hills. I’m normally not afraid of heights but the angelic ladder has a lot of bounce and sway. It unnerves me to say the least.
“Don’t look down!” Archangel Michael’s mighty voice rings out, now that my spirit-self can hear his real voice without vibrating my mortal body to pieces. His voice is laced with trumpet sound and echoes over the San Fernando valley. I look up and see a jet pass right through the ladder. This almost makes me fall off.
I realize it’s best to just look straight ahead and climb fast as I can. Up and up I ascend, gaining speed and confidence. Up through high wafting clouds, up past the edge of our atmosphere and into the inky black of space.
“What next?” I think as I transform into an ET blue angel form. Elated to be one of these amazing ETs in this vision, one I know as Ohom, I fly off at incredible speed over the earth. “Where am I going?” I ask but know somehow without being told by Archangel Michael at my side.
We race faster than the speed of light for Europe. “Are we heading for Italy where all the visions began?” I wonder to my higher ET blue angel self.
Michael reads my mind and says, “We are flying to Bosnia, for the pyramid of the Sun, higher that the great pyramid of Egypt. You have an important mission I want you to perform for me.”
Tiny Bosnia in sight, I rocket down from the stars faster than any human eye can detect in a beeline for the slumbering pyramid. I’ve flown many times in meditation and dream but never with this speed or power! I quickly remember why this vision is so powerful. Today is 11.1.11, first of the last 3 pure binary code dates.
In less than a heartbeat, my ET self blasts through the soil that most of the pyramid still lays buried under. I bore with ease and angelic grace through tons of stone and burst into the heart of the pyramid, a vast echoing secret chamber that no one has laid eyes on in countless eons.
Chanting in the blue ET alien language I do not understand, I extend my blue angel hands. Blue fire leaps out of my hands to illuminate the dim walls of the chamber. Carved alien symbols on the walls ignite and burn, not blue as I expect, but a sacred purple.
Somehow knowing my job has been quickly done, I bound up through the pyramid. Up through a thunder-head cloud that flashes and booms, rocketing into space once more.
Waiting for me patiently, as though this sort of mission is an every kind of occurrence for him, Archangel Michael hovers nearby. He looks down upon the earth, a pleased smile on his handsome face.
Far below, on the blue world we call earth, I see what Michael is so happy about. From the activated Bosnian Pyramid of the Sun, purple fire races in glowing lines across the face of the earth. The purple lines reach other pyramids, both known and unknown. One by one all the pyramids of earth light up brilliant purple and shoot out energy into the lay lines to form a web of fiery purple lines energy around the entire planet.
The four adorable dogs that guard BushWillows have been let loose from the main house, by their owner Deb, I can tell from all the barking. Their happy barks stir from me my meditation before I can ask the meaning of this powerful pyramid activation to Archangel Michael.
I swing my feet from bed and rub my hands over the eagle hair pattern in the back of my head that some of the projects fans, who call me Eagle Man, say was the eagle put in my hair by angels to help me overcome my doubts. Amazed by the power of this fading vision, I repeat Steve Jobs reported last words, “Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh wow.”
Looking at the time on my night stand clock I have little time to wash up and dress to travel with my twin flame Laura De León to meet with the Vegan chef Jesse to hear their wonderful menu he is planning for 11.11.11 The Ascension Convention. I can’t wait to tell Laura about the visit from Archangel Michael and what I was honored to witness.
Despite 18 months of these amazing visions, nagging doubts remain that all this could be my overactive imagination. However, after seeing the angels close the Bermuda Triangle back in January of this year, after which immediately, societies all over the Middle East overthrew dictators and corrupt governments, then the rise of Occupy, it gives me great hope that my visions alongside humanity’s ascension is wonderfully real. And so I work on for the hope of a Gentle 2012.
Tickets on sale for 11.11.11 at DreamShield.org. Hope to ascend with you on 11.11.11 at tropical paradise Rancho De Las Palmas, just east of Malibu, CA.