Finding Peace Through Pet-Inspired Meditation: A Personal Journey and a Global Vision


By Ken Sheetz

As a meditation filmmaker, I’ve always been fascinated by the myriad paths we take toward inner peace. Sometimes, our greatest teachers come not from grand philosophies but from the quiet, steady presence of animals. My own dog, Lincoln—a Chihuahua small in stature but immense in love—epitomizes this wisdom. Eight years old now, Lincoln is alive, well, and an essential part of our family dynamic. My love and filmmaking partner Elizabeth rescued him, and the early days weren’t always easy. Having suffered in his past, Lincoln was initially fearful of men. Yet with time, patience, and Elizabeth’s seasoned experience in raising dogs, he slowly learned to trust.

Today, our relationship is a testament to healing and understanding. Each morning, after our daily meditations, the three of us cuddle in bed. Lincoln, Elizabeth, and I form a cozy trio—an intimate, loving family that starts the day grounded in gratitude, affection, and the quiet faith that peace begins at home. Observing Lincoln’s transformation has shown me that even old wounds can mend with gentle care, consistency, and love. He reminds me that animals have a natural capacity for presence, a gift we can all learn from and incorporate into our lives.

This insight has been validated not only in our own home but also in one of the most remote corners of the Earth. In 2012, I journeyed to Antarctica to perform 24 meditations with the hope of manifesting a better tomorrow. During one of these sessions, a pair of penguins approached and stood quietly beside me. Their calming presence amidst that vast, frozen expanse mirrored the same peaceful essence Lincoln brings to our little family. Just as the penguin couple recognized and responded to the meditative vibe, Lincoln once recognized kindness and responded in turn, slowly blooming into the loving companion he is today.

The lessons are simple yet profound:

  • Living in the Present: Whether it’s a Chihuahua basking in morning cuddles or a penguin couple pausing their journey across the ice to join a meditation, animals embody present-moment awareness. They invite us to drop yesterday’s burdens and tomorrow’s worries.
  • Trust and Healing: Lincoln’s early fear of men gradually melted away when met with patience and understanding. This parallels the trust we build with ourselves in meditation—showing up day after day, letting go of fear, and becoming whole.
  • Unconditional Love: Animals love without complex conditions. They remind us that compassion need not be earned; it can be freely given. This warmth fosters a safe inner space, making our meditation practices more effective and fulfilling.

From scientific research, we know that meditation helps reduce stress, improve mood, and support emotional resilience. Interacting with animals—feeling the comfort of their presence or even visualizing them—further enhances these benefits. Animals can help regulate our nervous systems, lower blood pressure, and encourage a kind of emotional grounding that words alone often fail to provide.

The combination of these elements—practice, patience, animal wisdom—can guide us toward a more peaceful existence. Whether you picture a pair of penguins beside you in a faraway land or a tiny Chihuahua curled up close at home, you can invoke their calming energy in your meditation practice. Allow their simplicity, trust, and love to anchor you, inviting a sense of warmth and security into the moment.

In embracing these influences, we find that living fully in the present is both possible and profoundly healing. May the insights drawn from Lincoln’s gentle heart and my Antarctic penguin friends help you settle more comfortably into your own meditative path. Breathe with them, lean into their easy acceptance, and let their presence inspire you to let go of worry, embrace love’s quiet power, and move forward—one peaceful breath at a time.

If you enjoyed our new video visit growing Political Cool Down series for more.

Filling the Satirical Void: Taking on Trump and Political Comedy Amidst the WGA & SAG Strike

Hey there, fellow comedy enthusiasts and political satire lovers! I’m Ken Sheetz, a not so famous comic, when I am not blogging and traveling the world for quantum meditation all the way from Egypt and Antarctica, who has been navigating the vast world of entertainment, from producing world-class content for PBS to churning out hundred of short films and documentaries with over 40 million views of my YouTube work since 2008. But today I’m here to talk about something that’s been on everyone’s radar – the Writers Guild of America (WGA) and Screen Actors Guild (SAG) strikes – and how folks like me who love democracy feel obligated to up to the plate to fill the void with much-needed political comedy.

A Righteous Battle for Fairness

Since May, the WGA and SAG strikes have been making righteous waves in an entertainment industry suffering from the same billionaire bullies afflicting all areas of our nation’s great economy with their unbridled greed. These strikes are all about superb talent demanding fair compensation, better working conditions, and a more inclusive and equitable space for all creatives, as well as protection for job replacement by AI. As an independent filmmaker of 26 years, that followed a highly successful 25 years commercial real estate career that culminated in my building a $162 million skyscraper alongside Oprah’s Harpo Studios before leaving it all behind to be a filmmaker, who’s seen firsthand the effort that goes into creating captivating content, I wholeheartedly support the strikers.

Filling the Void with Humor: Enter “TrumpsFeverDream.com”

But with late-night shows going on hiatus due to the strikes, there’s a noticeable gap in the realm of political satire at a time where we all desperately need it as a gentle weapon in the fight to save democracy. That’s where I come in. You might know me from my work on PBS or my myriad YouTube projects, but one thing you might not be aware of is my ongoing satirical journey called “Trumps Fever Dream.” To think it all began on this meditation blog catered to the conscious movement that’s been highly targeted for dangerous brainwashing my Trump and his MAGA, Q and Russian backers. This brand political humor targeted to appeal to the country as whole, in addition to the beautiful niche community of this meditation blog. Get ready for an irreverent science fiction dark comedy take on the Donald Trump of another universe where karma really is a bitch. Hence the new blog TrumpsFeverDream.com where I am min the process of launching season 3 and reposting seasons 1 &2!

This pet project, to which my beautiful wife lends her considerable talents to as well, as an editors of books and a talented amateur actor, has been my way of poking fun at the very former President since 2020. I began “Trump Fever Dream” in the depths of Covid that sadly separated my wife and I from many people in the New Age world. We hope once the grip if Trumpism has been defeated once and for all to reconnect. Yeah, we’re both optimists. Me more so than my wife who has 17 years of military service that makes her more skeptical.

Fun fact: My first comedy writing work where I trained and cut my professional teeth on was for a pilot about a New Age healer who sent people via VR into old sitcoms. I wrote itin 1998 with one of the top ten line producers in Hollywood sitcoms, John Amodeo,and an award winning Canadian producer named, Nicolette Saina. It’s called EVERYTHING I NEEDED TO KNOW ABOUT LIFE I LEARNED FROM SITCOMS. Studios loved it but were scared off by the enormous job of rights clearances. I’ve also written over a dozen comedy screenplays during the ten years I lived in worked in Hollywood. None have been produced.. yet. Just how tough it is to make it in Hollywood is the topic of my documentary DISCOVER ME. Here’s free screening of the film I completed in 2012.

So for decades I’ve been using satire to offer a fresh perspective on entertainment and politics when I am not dreaming up far out meditations like this one in Antarctica.

Back to politics. Be they of the right or the left, I’ve skewered all politicians fequally for well over a decade. But in 2015 when Trump glided down the escalator to spew racism my satire took a more urgent turn to fight against a corrupted and the dangerous right-wing fascist movement Trump has fostered. Then in 2020, as tens of thousand of Americans began to die needlessly I redoubled my efforts with the birth of my absurd story of the Trump of another universe. The episodes are no longer available here on this meditation blog they were born on because I want to stay focused on the coolest meditations ever here.

Introducing “MAR A LAGO PRISON”: A New Season in Satire

And now, I’m excited to share a new episode in this satirical journey. Drumroll, please! Tune into our new YouTube.com/@trumpsfeverdream channel today at 5 PM, and it’s called “MAR A LAGO PRISON.” Season 3 promises you even more out-of-the-box political satire that offers an alternative lens through which to view today’s political landscape. Something we’re all missing during the righteous WGA and SAG strike.

With the strikes causing a pause in the usual comedic routine as we miss the work of the greats like Colbert, Kimmel, Meyers and more, it’s important for smaller comics like me to step up and keep the political conversation going through humor. It’s not about replacing late-night shows, I could never offer that without a pro WGA writing staff or SAG actors, but I am dedicated to adding my unique voice and the voice of my love and partner in all things Elizabeth England to the web’s mix and continuing the tradition of political satire that we all love. and need to cope. Indeed, laughter is the best medicine against Trump’s bad leadership that causing so much tension in this nation and this world.

Conclusion: Laughter, Reflection, and Moving Forward

So, mark your calendars for 5 PM today, grab some popcorn, and let’s dive into this new chapter of political comedy. Your support means the world to me, and together, we’ll keep the laughter flowing and the discussions alive. Listen to MAR A LAGO PRISON right here and subscribe on YouTube to get more of season three. We’ll be posting new episodes twice a month!

Farewell, Sweet Lioness

My sweet yet tough mother Georgiana, who passed just a painful 24 hours ago, loved her me, the oldest, and my eventual two brothers with the courage of a lioness.

My Korean War veteran father was a wonderful man most of the time, but he was born of an era where men were encouraged by the Catholic church and an unchallenged white patriarchy to rule the home in sometimes violent ways. But always, after retreating to safety of her sisters where Mom could lick her wounds, she would return home to care for and love us all, Dad included, unconditionally.

She repeated this feat of love many times for 30 years until all three of her sons were raised and then she swiftly divorced my father to begin a new life with my stepfather Nick, a kinder gentler man, who passed before her 5 years ago. They would enjoy three happy decades together until a terrible stroke took the Navy WW2 vet and her fellow lover of Vegas life.

For the last few years of her 94 years on the planet, Alzheimer’s began to rob her of her memory, but with a bit struggle, Mom always knew who I was and loved hearing from me. On what would turn out to be final call few weeks ago, I am glad I told her I loved her, as I’d done all through her hospice, and that if she passed before our next call now much I appreciated all she gave me in this life.

Yesterday, I felt the urge to call Mom in her Wisconsin nursing home, where she was in hospice, on a weekday, when I normally call on weekends. And the gently nurse told me Mom had just passed an just hour earlier. The sweet nurse spent time telling me how much the staff and patients had come to enjoy Georgiana; always quick with a joke or an affectionate poke.

Mom lived to see me happily married to my amazing Elizabeth, at the tender age of 67. She loved Elizabeth like a daughter, always asking me to give Elizabeth a hug for her even to our last phone call.

My mother will be missed terribly by many. I sometimes wonder why she clung so desperately to life in the twilight of her battle with Alzheimer’s and would even ask her what still gave her the will to live on in what was a strange agony. She never could pinpoint an answer for me. But my beautiful mother the lioness loved and cared for her cubs to very end. Perhaps that was enough.

Farewell, sweet lioness and welcome back to the unborn.

Thanks for the Quick Healing, Everyone!

Wow. It’s only been handful of days since I almost left the planet. My 3rd March NDE (what’s my issue with March?) happened this past Wednesday. A Wednesday like any other. Elizabeth and I had gotten up and off to hike with our rescue dog Lincoln shortly after sunrise. We were back home before 8 AM and making breakfast.

I like to take my supplements before I eat so I gathered them up from the many bottles under our counter and did what I’ve done many times; popped a bunch of them in my mouth at once. Then it happened. I began violently gagging.

I staggered over to the sink to try to barf them up. My stomach wretched deeply but no luck getting the logjam of supplements free. Elizabeth asked if I was OK and next thing I knew I was on the hard tile kitchen floor face down; blood dripping from my mouth and nose.

I tried to get up but both my arms were numb. Elizabeth shouted, “Stay down, Ken! You passed out and smashed your head! Are you OK?” I was confused because the last thing I remembered was choking on supplements by the sink.

Soon a team of 6 paramedics were crammed in our Sedona kitchen. As they began strapping me into a stretcher, the lead paramedic examined my eyes with a small flashlight. “Normal contraction in both eyes,” he told his clan of rescuers. Elizabeth gave a grateful sigh of relief as he asked, “What happened?”

After I recounted my stupidity of taking too many supplements at once I was told I’d suffered a hard lesson about a part of my body I’d never heard of before, the Vagus nerve. Pronounced like Vegas, but not as much fun. It wraps around the esophagus and choking can trigger it. It’s used by wrestlers to induce a sleep hold.

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For a guy who had a vision in a past near death as kid this 2019 NED was nothing like that. It feels more like reboot. I simply was here one minute, gone briefly, and then back with no visions of where I went.

The paramedic asked me as blood dripped from my mouth and nose, “Who is our president?”

“Sadly Trump,” I responded. My gallows humor got a few smiles according to Elizabeth and showed them I was going to be OK but they still insisted I go to the ER for Xrays and a CT scan. My heart was acting up a bit with what they hoped was a trauma induced an atrial fibrillation.

Each day I am recuperating rapidly. The outreach of love and support on Facebook and in real life has been deeply touching and began while I was briefly in the ER. Thankfully all the tests were good, nothing was broken and I did not suffer ever a concussion. And with all the healing energy that came my way my heart happily returned to its normal beat in a matter of hours.

Man, I remember chuckling when George Bush passed out choking on a pretzel that triggered his Vagus nerve back in 2002. Well, it’s not so funny now when I feel the pain in my neck head and shoulders from the fall, a lot better each day, that makes it a challenge to type right now.

The painful lesson I happily pass on: Take your supplements one at a time or end up like me and W.

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Meditations on Mortality & Inventor Patrick Flanagan’s Immortality Chamber

I’ll lead off this blog with a message from my ET spirit guide:

“Every living being in the universe experiences immortality in the 5D quantum field.” Love, Ohom

Ohom as a blue angel
My best rendering of Ohom in his human angelic form

Ohom’s coolest ever message came to me in the aftermath of a March 9, 2018 heart scare. Since I’ve been blessed by near perfect health my whole life this came totally out of left field.

But a prefect storm of stress, combined with a 60 day 25 pound weight gain, brought on by entertaining a food-loving future 23-year-old son-in-law for three months, had raised my blood pressure to twice normal levels.

Thanks to my awareness that something was very wrong, my love drove me to the ER where they took one look at me and rushed me to an ICU for treatment. It was a close call this heart failure did not escalate to a heart attack or stroke. I feel deeply blessed to still be here blogging to you.

BTW, I taught my 88 year-old mom what the word blog means the other day. “Blog? What a weird word!”she complained.

29136357_10155626788907029_3418241463023042560_oOn March 11th I told the hospital doctors, determined to scare me into better self-care, that they’d find my heart was in decent shape when they examined me. I knew this not just because am I blessed with being pretty psychic, but because I had just hiked the Grand Canyon 6 months earlier with zero heart trouble.

The angiogram, which I had to wait two and a half days to have done, determined my heart, as I predicted, was not permanently damaged by my freak spike in blood pressure. (BP health tip. Avoid using baking soda for heartburn. Too high in sodium!) As well, my arteries checked out unclogged and my heart valves were working great. That happy Monday after my angiogram I was the “good news patient” in the ICU. The outright joy of the nurses and doctors over my groovy angiogram still warms my healing heart.

But it was not all roses for my heart reports. An echogram revealed that the part of my heart that pumps the blood, called the ventricles, was enlarged and my normally dependable heart operating at only half normal pumping power. No wonder I had become weak as kitten, short of breath went into heart failure.

Nine weeks into my heart recovery program at this posting, I am on a lot of expensive meds to rebuild my heart. One prescription, Entresto, costs $2500 for 60 tablets. That’s $41.60 a freaking pill!  Thank god for my Medicare which just began last fall.

Good news, as I make this post, I have graduated from 6 weeks of cardio training, gone on a diet and joined a gym.  I’m well on way to fulfilling my heart doctor’s rare prediction of 100% recovery. Heck, I’m going for 200% recovery. No rules against that!

Indeed, the heart pros have called my recovery “remarkable”.  So far so good.  Echogram again in June and then I’ll confirm if my heart is back to full pumping power.  I feel it is a month ahead of schedule. Fingers crossed.

I have some theories on why my recovery has been so strong, besides the incredible outpouring of love, prayer and good intentions from family, friends and fans, that I want to share with you.

Ohom’s message on the nature of what immortality actually is all about, 5D -wise, came to me a little before my heart scare, but without my getting it at first. When I get massive visions like the one of ET healing the earth in 2010, which ended me up meditating to help heal humanity on 12.12.12 in Antarctica, it can take me years to figure epic visions out.

Ironically, it was the four days on my back in the Verde Valley Hospital that gave me the unexpected free time to understand an ET vision I’d had early this year.  And I am just now finding the time to blog about it!

Looking back on my own multi-dimensional ET self as I lay in the air-pressurized as hell ICU bed, hooked up to IVs and monitors, was that what I had seen a few months earlier in the ET vision Ohom sent me is reality is  in fact is a 5D Fibonacci sfield of trillions of universes. Think of sunflower face, but as sphere, where each seed is one of an infinite number of realities.

On this timeline, on which I am happily still writing to you, and on most other timelines, there exists an infinite range of my realities; from my being dead or good as a dead, as a stroked out man in a wheelchair, to my life as a space traveling ever-youthful immortal running marathons on other worlds that humanity is colonizing in other galaxies. And all these infinite realities are ruled by one master soul that we call God.

HOW MY HEART FAILURE HELPED ME UNDERSTAND DR. FLANAGAN’S IMMORTALITY CHAMBER

Looking deeper down the quantum rabbit hole of my heart scare, I see this 5D quantum immortality I have had its origins in a 2013 2D filming super scientist Patrick Flanagan, founder of PhiSciences.com.

One hot summer 2013 day, I was editing in the sweltering closet that was my makeshift edit suite off a humble attic room, tucked above a dusty little B&B we rented for my visit from LA to film super scientist Dr. Flanagan, when my cell rang.  It was Pat on the line.  Excited he said, “Hi, Ken. Want to be immortal?”

Without hesitation I shouted, “Of course!” As I raced my rental car to Pat’s Cornville estate, which doubled then as his home lab, I felt blessed to have to this amazing genius in my life.

A gentle desert breeze blew through the screen of open front door of the great inventor’s white adobe home, perched above the Verde River with a commanding view. Pat spotted me at the entrance and called me out onto the patio. I passed through the spacious living room filled with scared objects that he and his wife Stephanie have gathered from around the world, mixed with Pat’s half finished experiments that occupied every horizontal surface.

Arriving on the deck overlooking the Verde Valley and Mingus Mountains I gasped at the sight of the world renowned scientist’s prototype made of plywood and 2X4’s you see in this video. Seeing a new invention is this early stage of development is a rare treat I am honored to have filmed. Enjoy the video before reading on.

After I finished filming I got my turn to bathe in the energies of Pat’s immortality chamber prototype. When I came out Pat said with his famous mischievous smile, “Congratulation, Ken.  You’re immortal now. You will only die if someone chops your head off, like in THE HIGHLANDER.” We all had a good laugh at Pat’s joke.

How cool to finally understand what this modern-day Tesla, Dr. Flanagan, meant. I am grateful for my heart troubles as it’s allowed me to see what Pat meant on 5D form here in 2018.  I also love Patrick’s brilliant and beautiful wife’s message in the video. BTW, she’s an absolute human angel who adores Donald Trump as president. Her high opinion of the Donald, despite my own grave reservations on Trump that often get the better on me, gives me hope there is a deeper value to his presidency than I’ve yet to see.

Stephanie’s line at the end of the Immortality Chamber video, “Isn’t it wild?” sums up a lot of the 5D fibonacci of the immortality vision for me to live with courage and to feel love for all realities. Good and bad are human labels.

Shameless and proud plug, visit the Coolest Meditation Ever (CME) page for Dr. Flanagan’s amazing Sensor v medallion. On the sales page you’ll hear the doctor explain it’s a portable pyramidal abundance field generator. I can tell you in the five years of abundance that I’ve had my Sensor V since he gifted me one is that it is the gift that keeps on giving. It’s flat out worked miracles in my life, including a return to abundant health.

I had to buy one for my love Elizabeth, pictured below. The Sensor V has worked just as great for her too. In fact she is away right now on abundant trip to the Bahamas for yoga intensive training!

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THE MEANEST THING ANYONE EVER SAID TO A KID

By Ken Sheetz

FirefoxScreenSnapz028It is 1960, Bay View Wisconsin. Our fuzzy miniature grey Poodle named Lacy, licks 8-year-old me, giving me love like a crazy. Lacy already has some tumors.  She dies sadly, years later, taking on the cancer of our family. A poodle Jesus. But for now I am basking in her very lively lick kisses. I can’t contain my little boy giggles and shout, “Lacy loves me!”

A dear relative, who will remain anonymous, one that never likes seeing me happy, like happiness is something to fear, says clucking their tongue disapprovingly, “Ken, Ken, Ken. You think that dog licking is love?”

“Um, yeah,” I say already dreading the meanness that I know is coming.

My dear relative grins, like they are addressing the village idiot, and looms near my little face, their breath wreaking of cigarette smoke, and says dryly, “Wrong, Kenny boy. Dogs just lick people for the salt on their skin.”

“Feels like love to me!” I say, tears welling. Lacy feels the tension growing in me and tries to lick away my pain.

My dear relative smells my pain and laughs crazily as they deliver their words like a death blow, “Love? From a poodle? Ha! Animals don’t have souls, so they don’t love, except salt. Dogs love salt! Ha ha ha!”

Eight-year-old me has no words. The dear relative sickly relishes the shock on my little boy face. I begin to shake with sorrow and rage at what’s been stolen from me, the love of every animal on planet earth. A word knife is lodged deep in my heart. I shove Lacy off my lap and run bawling to my room to the taunting laughter of the dear relative.

Well, it’s 2014 now. I am a lot wiser. I call bullshit, dear relative. I feel sorry you could not feel love and found it needed to shut my heart like yours. For decades you succeeded. Today I am grown now, awakened and grown wise in the power of love.

POODLE POWER!

So in today’s meditation I send you, dear relative, loving Lacy doggie licks. Lick, lick, lick. Back across time and space, straight to your frozen heart. I see the licking love of our tormented brave family dog Lacy upon your heart. She is a brave furry little hero who your inner guardians are helpless against as she scoots between their legs, effortlessly dodging swords.

You are stunned, dear relative. Penetrated to your frozen core as Lacy runs about your ice caked heart. The poodle darts so fast her grey fur ignites with the flame of love. Barking and licking, she flies so fast she is a streak of fiery love. Crack! The ice about your heart is helpless as the polar ice caps today’s neglect of humanity is wreaking our world. Your heart thaws rapidly. Spring dawns in your wintery soul.

Your hateful side is stranded on a iceberg in an azure ocean. You are a red polar bear trapped by Lacy’s love. The iceberg becomes too small and you fall, roaring the last of your hatred as a new inner ocean of Lacy’s bliss and love drowns the last of your bitterness.

Tugged to safely to shore by the impossibly strong tiny soggy poodle, dear relative, you stagger to your feet on the beach of love, new color in your face. Lacy, job happily done, barks good-bye and zooms back into to her tortured 1960 body and returns to licking the eight-year-old me and you say in wonder…

“I am so sorry, Kenneth. Forgive me. Yes, doggies love salt on our skin, but I see now – oh how I see – that’s their reward for giving love so freely and selflessly!”

You run to join us on the couch, kissing me with love as Lacy licks us both.

THE END

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