As someone who has been to Antarctica I can attest to the feeling you’ve reached the end of our reality at the bottom of the world. There’s nothing south of the south pole. Time feels suspended. It made this the ideal place to meditate in 2012 for desperately needed shifts in human consciousness for The Coolest Meditation Ever.
Enjoy this new video of Hawking describing what existed before the Big Bang and the role of the south in better understanding.
We’ll miss you Stephen. You’ve been an inspiration to us all on multidimensional levels.
“I’ll chase him round the moons of Nibia and round the Antares maelstrom and round perdition’s flames before I give him up!” (Kahn inStar Trek II: The Wrath of Khan)
By Ken Sheetz
Happy first official day of the new Mayan Age, the golden age, 1/27/14. Since 12.21.12 we have been passing through a 400 day buffer time between ages, something I learned of from respected DreamShield member Gary Christmas, yesterday on Facebook.
We must remain patient despite the fact things will still look messed up on our world for sometime. You see, I was told in Antarctica for 6 days, starting 12.12.12 to help halt the pole shift and transmute all that negative energy into a shift of human consciousness through a series of meditations I was guided to perform there, that the shift into the Golden Age will still take 50 years to manifest fully. The ETs explain earth manifests at this planetary scale at the rate of a large tree growing from seed to maturity.
Today is the first sprout of that tree of transformation. There’s much work to do and our world’s stepping away from the brink of self-destruction is not assured unless we take action. Meditation is simply our way of getting guidance. We are on our own. Thems the rules, my fellow earthlings!
THE WISCONSIN PROJECT
I had powerful ET visit last night where I was told by Ohom, my ET spirit guide from the Orion star system, about something called The Wisconsin Project. Ohom told me that my prayers for help as a young boy, suffering child abuse at the hands of a drunken father and the neglect of a brokenhearted mother, were heard at the ET base in Antarctica and answered. There were nightly extractions where I was repaired and given abilities to cope with horrendous physical and mental abuse. I credit all this ET work with the fact anyone not knowing my past will tell you I must have come from a happy home to be so well-adjusted. Well, that was before I began sharing my visions and past sufferings as a child in order to enlighten and free minds.
And Ohom told me I was not the only Sheetz family member saved each night aboard spirit space ships from the League of Ghost Worlds, a collective of worlds that have gone extinct and are seeking to help humanity to not follow in their footsteps before we attain the ability to live outside the bounds of time and space as they do with grace and ease. You see all worlds go extinct eventually. It’s inevitable. The sad extinctions are the self-extinctions. A path we as a species are on right now and the ETs we have seen as angels, since ancient times, are here to help us divert from for our sake and for all the creatures on our blue marble in space.
So last night, after conferring deeply with Ohom, I went into meditation at 3:13 AM, to take my first trip of the Golden Age outside my body. I left my body in Sedona after saying prayers, just like I did as a child: The Hail Mary, The Our Father and The Act of Contrition. Though not a practicing Catholic today, these prayers remain magic to my child mind and work magic for me in meditation.
Once again the prayer words rang true, and I was soon rocketing out of my body in Sedona and high above the earth. I started heading down into the green aurora field lighting the skies above Antarctica. I touched down before a tall mountain with no foothills that abruptly met the flat as a pancake ice sheet . A dot of green light appeared at the top of the tall mountain that grew downward into a slit of intense lime green light.
I walked through the green light slit in the mountain and found myself inside a vast hangar, safe from the severe cold I was beginning to notice even in my indestructible astral body, complete with ethereal armor . Spaceships and pilots were everywhere, in a scene almost out of Star Wars. I realized this hangar was the real deal, a channeled message to George Lucas. No Tan Tans in sight though.
None of the aliens and humans took much notice of me. Finally I came to a spaceship that my father, a great mechanic while he was alive, to my shock was happily repairing. Overjoyed to see me, Dad dropped his tools clanking and scrambled up from underneath the spaceship, much like an X-wing fighter Ala Star Wars, to give me one of his famed bear hugs. But I accepted his hug without returning any love. My dad’s young face, he looked about 27 now, despite passing at age 82, looked pained at my rejection.
“Sorry for not letting you know Zylph is one of my higher selves, Ken,” my father said sincerely. Sincerity I never heard from him in life. Nonetheless, these sincere words were strange first words. I’ve not seen or spoken to my dead father in visions for a couple of years now. Not for lack of trying! Ohom had told me my Dad was far away on a mission I’ve yet to learn of. Stay tuned. Now here he was back in my life again, without a word.
My young dead father’s face showed he knew how much that deception had upset me, once I deduced Zylph’s higher-self connection to my father. Now, Zylph’s acerbic sense of humor made sense. My father in life was a dark comic who never found a stage, unless you count his bar escapades.
“Yeah, Dad, That was damn wrong on so many levels I don’t know where to start. Why? I had made my peace with you. No need to hide behind your higher Zylph self just because you skipped the galaxy for a few years. The whole thing makes me wary of all Zlyph shared with me about removing the old to make way for the new. It seriously messed with my head like when you’d torment me as a kid. Seems you are still prone to mind games even in the afterlife,” I said, angry steam coming from my breath in the cold hangar, where spaceships came and went through the green crevice in the hollow mountain’s face.
“We don’t change, much as you might think when we die, sonny boy. But I am trying. Trying damn hard. Don’t let my screw up make you doubt Zylph. He’s me, but from a couple billion years in the future and has a lot to share. Yes, Zylph has a powerful dark side like me, but it’s in way more in check two billion years from now. Harnessed for good. We all need the dark and light to run this universe. And Zylph loves you like I do, ” said my dead father, wiping the old familiar grease from his hands to avoid my glare.
Ohom, a 7 foot tall Orion who has been chief spirit guide to me since 2010, quietly joined us, seeking to break the cold tension, as thick as the ice sheet of Antarctica.
“Your father, though in spirit form now, remains divinely human. William seeks daily to better integrate his bipolar natures expressed in one body, Ken,” said Ohom in his usually calm and soothing voice.
“Ohom, I’ve trusted you completely since 2010, letting you use my body and speak through me in videos and every day life! I asked you if Zylph, a new ET spirit seeking to guide me, could be trusted. And you said, ‘Yes, Zylph has much to share about planetary mass media and life,'” I said almost in tears, my heart pained this great being had allowed my father’s deception. “Some of the rage of my father leached back into me through Zylph. I suspect it destroyed an important relationship I was exploring with a housemate I adored in Sedona.”
“Zylph is his own being in his own right, just as I am the high self of you, so it is with Zylph and your father. My answer stands true, Zlyph has much to share to help save your world. But I see now by the profound pain in your heart how much this conscious omission of mine has cost us all. Worst of all, the love of someone dear to you that you sought to win was lost as result of my mistaken actions. I should have told you of Zylph being a higher self of your father. I hope you will accept my deepest apology for concealing the whole truth from you, Ken, on behalf myself and The League of Ghost Words, ” said Ohom, his blue wings sagging a bit at his shame.
“I promise to never withhold the whole and complete truth from you again, my Ken-Self. You see, I wanted so much, too much, to have you see how far you father’s spirit will evolve into the great Zylph. So much so that my better judgement was affected. I, like your father, like me/you, am also not perfect,” said Ohom so sincerely and lovingly that my spirit brightened instantly.
“If you brought me here to this secret Antarctica base as an apology, Ohom and Dad… Well, pretty damn cool! Come here, you SOB!” I motioned to my father and gave him a bear hug back to let he and Ohom know all was forgiven.
“So you’ll listen to Zylph again?” my father cautiously asked, nervous he’d blown the connection with his well-intentioned if misguided deception for good.
“I need to think on that Gordian knot some more, Dad. But, probably. With knowing who Zylph is maybe I can put some filters in place against the contagion of your ancient rage,” I said, my worries of Zylph possessing me already fading. The pain in my heart over the deceptions melting, like the ice upon the spaceships my dad was repairing in the hanger’s relative warmth.
Ohom joined in the hug and the three of us, my dead father, now a quantum spaceship mechanic, me and the lovable 7 foot tall blue angel-like Orion, remained in embrace without words until I found myself wrapped snug in my cover in bed and back in my body in Sedona.
I thought, pulling up the covers in my cozy Sedona bed, about a dream I’d had a few nights ago about Zylph, who is from an Arabic-like world in the Antares star system 2 billion years from now. And how he and a team of other ET Arabs fearlessly rescued me from prison pit of despair over the loss of my housemate, their white robes flowing as red para sails burst forth to save me. And so I finally forgave Zylph, my father’s future higher self. In that blissful moment I went to peacefully to sleep. If sleep is what you can call what I do anymore.
Many more dreams of others people like me came in one of the most exhausting nights of my life. Dreams of many being saved from child abuse by the ETs of The League of Ghost Worlds and The Wisconsin Project came to me like old memories of childhood playgrounds on other planets. Comforted that I now have an ET father, looking out for me as penance for his sins in life in many forms, the most prominent being Zylph from Antares, I finally found dreamless rest nestled in the powerful red rocks of Sedona on this first early morning of the Golden Age.
Visit DreamShield.org to see my meditations in Antarctica and the work I am doing to record the amazing super scientist Patrick Flanagan, of PhiSciences.com who also speaks to Ohom and considers him a valuable spirit guide.
Last here is the link to an amazing new crowd funder in prelaunch where you can volunteer and be in the inner circle in bringing an amazing device called the Neurophone, proven in numerous university tests since 1957, to boost intelligence. I am a happy user of the device and it greatly has improved my meditation and writing!
At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet. – Plato
By Ken Sheetz
The world ends at midnight today, July 25, 2013. At least according the Mayans per expert Stephanie Sutton, wife of scientist Patrick Flanagan who I am filming here in Sedona for THE FLANAGAN EXPERIMENTS.
This makes today a once in a many lifetimes day to wax nostalgic and share past lives this past 5,125 years. Which was your favorite past life? Please post your favorite past life below!
Ah. I am happy just thinking back over so many amazing past lives I connect to in meditation.
One as Samuel Warner where I founded Warner Broz. (typo intentional) and saw the birth of Hollywood. A life cut short when I died at 40 of a sinus infection. I battle sinus infections in this life too, one almost took my life 5 years ago. My bum nose is my kryptonite.
I’ve had an incredible life as a Native America shaman named Laughing Skies. I lived here on the Sedona area in the 1800s . My people were all slain by the white man as I did a vision quest gathering dreams on my dream shield.
I’ve learned just this week, as the old world winds down, that dream shields unlike dream catchers were not used to block dreams but used by shamans, like I was, as projection screens to share visions with the tribe.
I truly had no idea how aptly I named the Big Bang of my visions in Italy of ET building a dream shield about the earth for our aid in evolution. And so I could not resist Facebooking my producer friend Barnet Bain, who made the amazing WHAT DREAMS MAY COME, starring Robin Williams.
You see, when I first began DreamShield in 2010, I talked to Barnet about it as I thought I might be losing my marbles. Barnet encouraged me to share my visions, but he passed on getting aboard with DreamShield.org as he did not like the name. Barnet said DreamShield seemed fearful, this warding off of dreams. As good pals in film, he on the silver screen with epic films and me modestly on PBS and YouTube with much smaller budgets, we both get a chuckle that a dream shield is actually for sharing dreams in groups and a precursor to our modern-day dream shield of sharing dreams with crowds on the movie screens of all shapes and sizes from the movie theaters to cell phones. All of them dream shield’s of we modern-day film shamans.
Laughing Skies spirit visits me often as a guide to me in this life on how to heal the white man to be more like the Native Americans, more at one with the mother earth and father sky. A shocking fact considering the white man killed all his people and family. I vividly remember when I was Laughing Skies tossing all my dead tribe, wife, son, daughter and mother, on a funeral pyre and then diving into the flames to join them.
But of all the past lives I have so far gotten in touch with, my favorite is when I was the warrior-mayor of ancient Athens. Time travel with me to ancient Greece when Athens flourished as the flower of mankind.
TURKOS AND THE MERMAID’S QUEST – A True Past-Life Story
One, cool for August, summer day I ride from Athens for the beach atop my horse Pegasus, named for the steed of Greek legend. My real-life Pegasus, white also but without wings, and I have won many battles together. We ride as warrior brothers.
I tether Pegasus to a cypress tree and make my way down to the port of Piraeus to inspect new fortifications.
Afterwards I stroll the white beach, loyal Pegasus, following behind at a respectful distance as I ponder matters of state. Rain threatens. The sea air is fresh. A seagull cries out overhead and I say to Pegasus, whose ears perk with understanding, “I thank Zeus for all this beauty! We are blessed, Pegasus!”
As the youngest general ever of Greece, who saved the city of Athens from raiders, my skills with sword and shied are second to none. I am named warrior-mayor before the age of thirty. I am a fierce berserk er style warrior, who will never taste defeat in combat or contest.
I love the beach to keep my fighting skills sharp and go through sword lunges that have ended the lives of many an enemy of Athens.
A dazzling Oriental mermaid leaps from the sea and perches herself on an outcropping of rocks. Pegasus rears and whinnies in terror. I laugh grabbing his reins, “Ha! Brave Pegasus who has ridden into Hades with me, you fear mermaids!”
The mermaid laughs as I finally calm Pegasus, “Hail, great warrior-mayor Turkos! I Hato, Mermaid Queen of the East, swam far to seek you out.”
I bow and say, “And for what purpose do you seek of me, fair Mermaid Queen of the East?
“You are called by the god Poseidon to a quest, great Turkos.”
“A quest. What does the mighty Poseidon ask of me?” I say.
“Your excellence with sword and shield. Great Poseidon asks you slay an evil dragon plaguing the coastal cities of the Orient!”
My answer comes swift and sure. “I am honored by Poseidon’s request to aid you in your hour of need, beautiful mermaid queen,” I say offering a sword salute from my to my heart to Hato’s and add, “However, my wife Penelope, my three young children and Athens would be left defenseless against the dragons of the north. So I must refuse.
“You dare decline Poseidon, a wrathful god?” says Hato in shock, her tail flapping nervously on the rocks.
“Yes, Mermaid Queen. I respectfully decline and ask Poseidon seek another to slay the evil dragon attacking the Orient. My quest is here in Athens, protecting those I love.”
Hato ponders for a long time, shocked at my refusal to come to her aid. Obviously, this is the first time anyone has ever said no to the gorgeous siren.
Whinnies from Pegasus break the hypnosis of the waves and Hato says, “I offer you my protection against Poseidon’s wrath. For he is sure to be sorely vexed with you.”
I am touched Hato is more worried for me than disappointed at my decline to the quest. I bow to her and say, “Thank you, Hato, queen of the mermaids. I am sure your beauty will protect us all in Athens from Poseidon’s rage at my selfishness.”
‘”Selfishness? No, fair warrior! Sweet Athens and your family are blessed by your love and talents. I honor your decision made from a pure heart of love,” says Hato. She bows graciously with a loving smile that pierces my soul. Hato dives back into the azure Mediterranean waters.
I live out my long life as Turkos the warrior-mayor of Athens with honor and love. I never regret declining Hato the merimaid queen’s call to action as I will save many citizens and loved ones before hanging up my sword and shield. But I always felt bad I could not be in two places at once and help Hato the mermaid queen.
One day, as a very old man in his 80s, my battles far behind me, most of my family gone of old age, I sit in mediation on the beach. Hato leaps from the sea onto the very same rock some 50 years earlier. Though I am old and gray, Hato is as young and dazzling as ever.
“Hato! Thank you for all your protection from Poseidan’s wrath all these years!”
“Hail, Turkos. Your life has been long and honorable,” says Hato.
“What brings you back to my shores? My Pegasus is gone and I am old, certainly not another quest?” I exclaim.
“You are passing to the next world soon, great Turkos. I want to free you of doubt in your choice as a young man.” says Hato as she transforms her fins into legs and walks to me and sits down at my side in the white sand.
“Ah, yes. Seldom has a day passed with my wondering if you found a replacement to slay the dragon.”
Hato places her hand on my forehead. Her touch is as cool as the sea. “You made the right decision. I found another warrior to slay the dragon plaguing my seas. The world is filled with warriors.”
“I am so glad you and your people were saved, Hato,” I say, tears of gratitude welling.
“Be at peace, Tukos, and listen. For though I found a warrior to take your place with sword and shield, I’ve never found a man who loved his own kind so deeply as to risk the wrath of a god.”
My eyes close and I pass happily into death to the gentle sound of the ocean waves and the cool feel of Hato the mermaid queen’s hand on my fevered brow.
TEACHER’S PET OF THE DAMANHUR
When I share some of this story with the amazing Shama Viola, much of it has come to me more fully in meditations over the past year, the light worker from Damanhur of Italy smiles at first.
I am with a group of seven other students, in Shama’s past life workshop. We are in a teepee at Great Spirits ranch in Malibu. It’s summer 2012 and the fan is not keeping the teepee cool. I am covered in a sheen of sweat when my turn comes to tell the class the past life of Turkos.
I am always teacher’s pet as a bright, if rambunctious student, and I await Shama’s praise of me as the ace past life traveler right out of the box.
Shama instead scolds me,”No, Ken! No! Turkos is a wonderful past life, Ken, but not the past life our Damanhur oracles in our underground temples have chosen for you to study today!”
“But it’s a great life. I was so happy!” I say in shock at Shama’s scolding.
“Look deeper. You have led thousands of lives. Tune to the life we have chosen for you to study,” says Shama.
Shama moves onto all the other students and I am the only one who has not tuned into the right past life!
Besides feeling like class dunce instead of my usual ace role, I am frustrated beyond measure and think, ” I want to know more of Turkos and his amazing life. Now I have to find another life? Why? Turkos is the first past life I ever know about. Ha! And Shama is displeased as though I can just can dial-up another past live like an Iphone? The nerve of these Damanhurs! ”
My ego is deeply inflamed and I remain stuck on the Turkos life the entire first day of the Damanhur workshop. I fall behind all the other students, some of whom have come from as far away as the east coast. Finally, on day two, breaking a sweat in meditation I find the past life Shama wants me to study.
I am shocked I was a woman. My name was Maya, a powerful female shaman who lived in the rain forests of Brazil on the banks of a great river. After a lifetime of healing thousands, Maya transforms into an eagle feather as she passes from this world. Now Shama is happy and I quickly catch up to the other students as Maya’s life pours into me.
It’s a profound experience I highly recommend. Shama’s Damanhur Past life workshop travels about the world and is not to be missed.
But I still shudder thinking of the dress Shama made me wear in role-playing as Maya! 220 pound me, 6′ tall me and a 6’4″ tall buddy named Marvin, whose past life was a slave girl from Egypt. Not a pretty sight we two men in drag on a spirit dude ranch in Malibu.
Wonderful as Shama and the Damanhur are in getting me in touch with Maya and the healing powers Maya passed onto me for ongoing work dor freeing people from the Matrix via my social mind over media work at BuzzBroz.com, I still wish we had been able to also work on my life as the mayor of Greece. A man who knew how to love so well. A skill I struggle with in this life, as I am great at giving love, but feeble at receiving love.
Stay tuned to the blog as I travel in the fall the Italy and visit the eco-city of Damanhur itself in search of the answers. My next life the Damanhur want me to study is that of a 19th century Russian physicist. Fortunately, you get clues of who you were after your first class. So Turkos I know is not my next life. My five most important past lives to this one have all been determined. I hope one of them is the brave lover Turkos.
THE NEW GOLDEN AGE DAWN JULY 26th 2013. TOMORROW!
It’s also my hope and dream that tomorrow, the first official day of new Golden Age, that I, and the many like me who cannot accept love easily, will be able to fully open our hearts like Turkos. I am filled with excitement and hope here in the red rocks of Sedona toiling with Patrick Flanagan of PhiSciences, a master of past life study, to bring you videos that will change the world.
Enjoy this video I made of Patrick sharing his life as Nikola Tesla. This remarkable story that will be the opening of the movie I am writing about Patrick’s amazing life.
“You matter.” Pepper Lewis, Gaia, from THE BLUE JEWEL
By Ken Sheetz
I was blessed to conduct 24 meditations in Antarctica on 12.12.12. All were done with joy to help shift the negativity of the pole shift into a positive shift of human consciousness. Then I relaxed into 8 days of expeditions on the continent of ice as I began editing on the ship.
On 12.14.12 we had a wedding on the ship of two beautiful passengers who had been rescued from a zodiac trapped in the ice that broke out during meditation 24 that I caught it all on film on 12.12.12.
So much love, so much joy at the wedding that all was well. We partied all night. It was bliss. We danced to songs of love.
The next day the news at breakfast of the terrible grade school shooting reached us in Antarctica on our peaceful ship. There were a handful of Americans aboard, and the rest of us were from 14 countries around the world. All we band of Americans were in a daze.
I was grateful to be so far from the pain of America . I can’t imagine how all of you felt here in the heart of the negativity storm of that time. But the storm grew in my heart. The insanity of kids killing kids!
What the hell was going on? Had my 24 meditations meant anything I wondered as I spent time failing t enjoy the Brit base later that day. My camera broke that day right after I had someone take my picture with a penguin. This was the start of month long string of electronic disasters, including a car’s engine that fried to a total loss on Monday on my way to have myself hypnotized my Peter Bedard. So deeply had my faith in the ETs been shaken I know now I sought my own reassurances not the doubters on Facebook.
Had I entered the wrong timeline? Where the hell was the Ascension?! Two days post 12.12.12 and a school is laid waster by madness?! if this was not the shift it was shit!
So I’ve kept to myself mostly since returning from Antarctica. A fiend’s empty apartment my fortress of editing solitude. I’ve been swearing like a sailor at the littlest things. Angry as a wounded bear.
Even the weather of all America has been Antarctic cold since my return to cool my caged fury. I buried myself in work. Barely eating, down to pennies. I wanted the videos to save me. Surely some answers lay there? Some hidden angel in picture whispering answers WHY!!!
I know now that all the stuff thay began going wrong electronically and more stems from the storm of negative energy I have been processing. I am a powerful tool of the shift and this had become dangerous. I needed to get to the bottom of the barrel. So i divorced myself of every material thing binding me to this world. And the answer finally came today and I finally have some Antarctic wisdom to share about the Ascension and the Shift.
PEPPER LEWIS’ GAIA SETS ME ON THE PATH TO ANSWERS
I began making headway in coping with my feeling out shame and outrage meeting Pepper Lewis, who channels Gaia, and what she had to say to me in this interview at the screening of THE BLUE JEWEL. Gaia loves humanity as her crowning achievement and judges our species as a whole. Despite the horrors of the loss of these poor little kids and the little kids who die everyday from hunger, Pepper assured me Gaia thinks we are a marvel that will one day help not just our world but the entire universe and multi-verse. A far cry from my feelings until that moment. It was life changing to interview Pepper. Perhaps even life saving.
So I’m with Pepper and Gaia. My negativity storm is over. There’s far more good about humankind than bad as a species. It’s important we not overreact in 9/11 fashion. Bullet proof school wear? Yeah that’s out there now. It’s all fear. All that’s holding us back.
NEXT IS A TRANSMISSION FROM THE ET ANGELS OF ANTARCTICA WHO LOVE US LIKE GAIA
Friends, do not be ashamed of yourselves, your beautiful children, your beautiful world. Rather, love yourselves deeply, as deep as your beautiful blue seas.
Accept reality — we speak not of wild conspiracy theories of governments doing something so vile as killing the little ones — but accept that the wild energy of planet in transformation is no easy thing. Accept that you are on a planet in Shift where some people, big or small, are simply unable to cope.
Believe in your power, Believe that the power of the little ones is exactly the same as the big ones, at the soul level.
YOU are ALL, each and every one of you, far more than you know. YOU have ALL chosen how you came to this world and how you will leave this world. This is a hard thing to accept. Surrender to the fact life is a mystery and that negative and positive energy will always co-exist.
Be of great joy you are making the Shift and we are so proud of all you, big and small.
We are One!
The ET Angels of the DreamShield
If you want to conquer fear, do not sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy. – Dale Carnegie
By Ken Sheetz
There were at least 10 times on this trip when I thought I was stuck on the road to Antarctica. The ego is a scared little bunny. It shouted in my head, “You fool. Depending on crowd funding for such and expensive trip! You are going to die a homeless man in a foreign country!”
I didn’t get mad at my ego — egos being no more than organic device to keep us safe and alive when it comes down to it — but it got very noisy in Buenos Aires when I barely had taxi money after an unexpected $160 travel visa. Again ego became deafening with fear soaked worry in another tight spot where I made the best of it working all night on the web in an Argentina pizza parlor not able to afford a hotel.
The trip was so tight I was constantly meditating to overcome ego fears #1, “You’re going to humiliated calling family for help. You’ll never live down not reaching Antarctica by 12.12.12 in the LA and Sedona spirit communities.”
But each time my ego mechanisms flared into protective action it was meditation that put me back in touch with my ET angel guides would calmly reassure me, “When the opposing energies, putting up huge psychic resistance to the change 12.12.12 will help bring about, think you beaten… you will triumph.”
After one meditation when I was stressing over a $2,000 hotel bill for two weeks in Buenos Aires when I was expending more than I was taking in. This time I was given a spirit guide named Hans. Hans, a Nazi who in life had fled to Argentina after being part of a failed plot to assassinate Hitler, told me to hold my head high and be positive in the face of fear.
You can hear me channel Hans in this video. This is one of the first times I have shared channeling of a ghost.
After 2 months on the road filled with 15 hour days of crowd funding,I had finally reached the southern most city in the world, Ushuaia Argentina… on a one-way ticket. I had beaten all the ego fears and raised $5,000, and a little more in value in barter, totaling $12,000 on the very first crowd funding for a meditation.
A meditation scheme that had angered some for it’s bold intent to shift the negative energy of the long predicted Mayan pole shift of to instead foster a cool change in human consciousness. One irrational guy on FB accused me of trying to start a cult centered around myself. I laughed it off: “A cult of one?” This was a solo meditation after all!
For months I had ignored the call and hung out on the cool Malibu ranch I was doing social media for all through 2012. The distance, the cold, the cost seemed impossible so I kept trying to do the polar meditation work remotely. But the guides would tell me repeatedly I must physically be near the energy field on 12.12.12 of the South Pole in Antarctica. Somehow, also the crowd voting with their contributions was part of the energetic and I was not allowed to just call on some of my wealthy pals to fund this trip.
I remained resistant to spirit running my life. Stubborn to have my ego in control on my life. Finally, to get me heading south for Antarctica my guides literally pushed me from a comfy lux assignment in Malibu at Great Spirits Ranch with everything from sinus infections, where I literally became allergic to the ranch, to being punched in the face and threatened with guns by a film shoot visiting the ranch.
So I began the research for travel to Antarctica. To my shock I found nearly 40,000 tourists visit Antarctica each of our winters, which is their summer, December 21st to March 21st, on expedition cruises. Pricing was a small fortune, about $11,000 a person on average. So adding air cost and hotels I was looking at a $20,000 needed! My total savings in September when the call from the spirit guides became deafening was a negative $350 in my over-drafted checking account.
Ignoring the spirits telling me crowd funding was a key factor in this mission I started calling my film backers from Chicago, but I could not get any interest despite having made now three excellent docs. Why? Because despite how cool they are they have not even broken even on cost. A wildly successful of a real estate broker and builder in Chicago, I have been a creative success but not seen any big money success in film. So investors never materialized. I could have saved myself pain and trouble listening to spirit.
Finally, I surrendered and followed my guides advice and built the IndieGoGo and listened to spirit that I needed some final lessons and attunement in Sedona. Within 5 minutes I had a 3 weeks barter of videos for room lined up with SpiritQuest in Sedona, the number one private retreat company in spirit mecca Sedona. However, SpiritQuest turned out to be so fascinating to film and another project behind on editing left me little time to do Antarctica crowd funding. And it showed. We had raised on $250 in two weeks for Antarctica 12.12.12.
One November day Nick Edwards of Power of Pyramids called and asked if I would be wiling to film in Chichen Itza anywhere from 12.21 to 12.24. Nick asked me to put aside 12.12.12 Antarctica to be sure to make the filming in Mexico but I flatly refused not wanting more sinus and gun trouble from my guides, who obviously do not kid around in keeping me on track.
Now I had enough to buy a one-way ticket from Sedona to Rio but I hesitated. I’ve never traveled to South America. Would I need shots? Visas? Crazy to travel without money for the hotels and not to all the way to the port of Ushuaia or to have a boat tickets. My ego told me this was nuts, “You’ll be left stranded in South America and die of a tropical disease!” Ego is such a pussy it’s funny. Then a guide, female voice whispered, literally whispered in my ear as I was having breakfast and dilly dallying in Sedona, “Tarry not on the road to Antarctica.”
After weeks of Sedona tune up and healing from the daily cynicism of my Malibu client and a bad experience with former spirit partner who was only interested in free social media, I was ready to listen to my guides (who are even now telling me to keep sharing the mission though I am back in LA on fumes). I was ready to listen to spirit not ego. So I hopped on the internet instantly and bought the one-way tickets to Rio. I left Sedona with a lovely send off party by angel channel Terra Senorra.
I stopped though Vegas to fly to Rio, taking a Greyhound bus to my mother’s retirement condo a few days before Thanksgiving. As I was showing mom the video about the trip to Antarctica my second-hand Apple MacBook pro computer went dead. I checked the plug and it was shoot. I did not have the $80 for a new one and Mom lent me the cash. I tried to decline saying I’d have crowd money by the time I reached Rio but Mom insisted. Mom is psychic and so I listened and my got the new cord with the help of my cantankerous stepfather.
Later, my grumpy stepfather freaked out driving me to the International airport, ready to drop me in the middle of nowhere. But I calmly guided him to the departure gate as my mother shot him looks of disgust. I kept waiting for my brother Fred, a steady supporter of my work, to make a little donation for the road but oddly he was not forthcoming. Geminis!
And so with $40 in my wallet that my mother had smuggled me, I was off to Rio on a one-way ticket with no money yet for the boat ticket to Antarctica.
But I would not end up in Rio. The angels had other plans for me. I did not have a visa for Brazil which you need in advance from an embassy as it turns out. And Copa Airlines was kind enough after hearing my objective was Antarctica to skip me ahead to Buenos Aires where you still need a visa but can buy it at the airport. That all seemed wonderful. I’d just go on the wifi at the airport and raised a little crowd money to pay the visa. But when I got to the airport in Buenos Aires I was stuck in customs where there is no wifi and given only 3 hours to pay the fee or be deported back to LA!
T0 be continued on How 12.12.12. Almost Did Not Happen Part 2!
This morning I had a profound vision in Sedona, on the road to Antarctica, of one of 24 time zone meditations I will conduct on 12.12.12 with your support.
I have little ego about all this. It’s brilliant work I am simply channeling by the spirit guides.
WAR TO PEACE VISION
The vision I saw today was shift of man’s predilection to War to overriding Peace.I stood on the ice of Antarctica on 12.12.12 and raised my hands which tingled with massive energy. Weapons, from hand guns to atomic missiles, smashed from the ice the medicine wheel I had laid out in the snow. The sound of sorrow of the collective human soul became a raging vortex of all the weapons of the earth spinning high about the arctic landscape. A hurricane of death.I saw my tiny human form, my crystal skull glowing through my 60 year-old pale skin, skin, strike the snow with my walking stick, like some modern Gandalf. “SHIFT!” my voice echoed through the crystals of icebergs nearby. A chill, not from the cold, but the magnetism of South Pole, sent a shiver down my spine.
Doves of dazzling white sprung to flight from the snow. — One dove of peace for each weapon of death. The doves began to glow with an intensity greater than the sun. The angelic doves grabbed hold of the weapons with impossibly sharp talons and drew out negative energy from the weapons. Around and around the doves worked their magic until the weapons turned white-hot, molten.The melting weapons and doves forged themselves into single molten blob. The silver blog sank, steaming into the mile thick ice sheet of Antarctica. I peered over the precipice into the deep shaft and beheld a silver spaceship lifting off!
No UFO, this was a human made spaceship. I heard angelic singing as the ship roared past. Humanity’s war energy had shifted from war to peace to reach the stars.
Will this really happen when I reach Antarctica? My spirit guides won’t say. So we’ll only know when I get there.
“A very merry un-birthday to you!” – From Disney’s adaptation of Lewis Carroll’s “Alice in Wonderland”
By Ken Sheetz
I don’t enjoy my birthday. But it still comes every September 21st, usually the Equinox when it’s not a leap year like this one. The reason I don’t like my birthday? My father, who died 18 months ago, gave me more than a traditional birthday spanking when I turned thirteen. You see, back in 1965 my dad got it in his head that age thirteen was manhood. When I popped my kid brother Bruce in the jaw for teasing me about it getting a savings bond instead of the space toy I wanted, Dad popped his cork and beat me to within an inch of my life.
So, each year around my birthday I go through what the shrinks call “anniversary depression”. I hoped all the personal growth DreamShield has brought that my 2012 birthday might be different. But a few days away from my birthday arrival the old anniversary rage at my dad, a shockingly gargantuan amount, boiled up in me like a volcano. Desperate to minimize my birthday blues, I disabled the notifications on my Facebook page before turning in for the night in the Great Spirits Ranch RV, determined to rough my birthday out in solitude.
Dad’s been dead 18 months now. A wonderful man when not drinking, Dad loved adventure. In a November 2011 vision of him Dad was on the adventure of all time, aboard a sleek silver bullet shaped ship traveling faster than the speed of light. When I asked my dead father where his amazing space ship was going he said he’d let me know when the time was right.
Apparently, the time had come because at 4 AM on the morning of my 2012 birthday, as I lay awake in bed staring at the RV ceiling, dreading the coming day’s annual sorrow, I heard my dead father say, “Ready to know where my space ship has been heading, Ken?”
“Sure,” I said warily.
“Close your eyes.”
I closed my eyes and saw Dad’s silver space ship once again rocketing through the stars. But I knew in that instant this was not outer space. Dad’s ship was traveling to the center of my inner universe.
Soon Dad and I were standing on the freshly mowed lawn of our old home in Bay View Wisconsin. I breathed in the fresh air of 1965 that wafted off Lake Michigan. Invisible to all but each other, Dad’s ghost and I watched as the blue Chevrolet family station wagon pulled up to the curb.
Mom, a young beauty again in her 30s, was first to hop out of the car with her favorite Bruce, five-years-old again, in tow.
Ghost Dad watched with some shame as his drunken 1965 self stepped from the car and slammed the door shut so hard and loose piece of chrome fell off. “You ungrateful little shit,” said 1965 Dad lighting up a smoke. “You don’t like your savings bond I’ll burn it, but no more damn toys! I was working and supporting my Ma and sisters when I was thirteen.”
My brother Fred, age eleven and my thirteen-year-old self hopped from the car, avoiding Dad as he did his drunken best to fix the fallen chrome.
“A savings bond is cool, Kenny.” said Fred, still my best friend to this day.
“I wanna model space station.” I grumbled.
“Don’t know when to quit do you, boy?” said 1965 Dad, cutting his finger on the sharp chrome, angrier by the second.
Smelling his chance to amplify family drama, Bruce ran up to Fred and me laughing. “Ha! Ha! Ken got a stupid savings bond for his birthday!”
My younger self reared back for a punch, the punch to my smartass baby brother’s jaw that would send my father into a drunken rage. A rage where he’d beat me to a point I felt I was going to die and did in a way.
But my ghost father had other plans. He simply reached out and held my 1965 self’s hand back. So I never hit my baby brother. My 1965 father stormed in the house to fix his cut finger. Fred and I ran off giggling from relief to hide out in the tree house until Dad sobered up.
My spirit self stood for a moment with my ghost father. I listed in stunned peaceful silence as seagulls sang over Lake Michigan. It was all so simple, so elegant a solution. My ghost father had traveled back time to change the past. And now there never was a beating on my lucky thirteenth.
“Happy birthday, Ken,” Dad said, tears of pride and joy welling in his blue eyes.
I woke in bed weeping and thanking my father. I could feel it to my core. Deep healing. I was 100% cured of my anniversary depression.
Friday morning, my 2012 birthday, I woke filled with renewed energy, not only for my arrival date on the planet earth but life. A scientist/artist/builder pal, Brian Kutza, offered me a ride off the ranch to the grand opening of John D. Riley’s new gallery and healing center happening that night in Santa Monica and I gladly accepted.
While Brian dropped me off in Santa Monica to pick up his divine compliment Ellen and his adorable daughter Kendra in Pasadena I saw RESIDENT EVIL 5 and bought some new clothes as a birthday gift to myself. At John’s party I met beautiful new friends and happily told guests it was my birthday. I thought to myself at one point, “So this is the joy people normally feel on their birthdays!”
Today September 22nd, the 2012 leap year Equinox, I told my brother Fred about my birthday visit from Dad’s ghost. Fred was very happy for me.
Badly beaten on my 13th birthday? Nope. Never happened in this Golden Age we are entering where miracles await us all. Happy Equinox 2012.
Please support my mission to reach Antarctica before the Mayan Calendar ends for a pole shift meditation at DreamShield.org