The following vision art is the creation DreamShield.org founder Ken Sheetz. But Ken is only one of millions having visions of other realms of reality. We encourage you to contact us at imagitv@aol.com with any vision art of your own for posting here on our blog.
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What kind of world is this that can send machines to Mars and does nothing to stop the killing of a human being?
Jose Saramago
By Ken Sheetz
Like the trip to Italy that began DreamShield in May of 2010, I was bartering a spiritual workshop, this one in Mexico, for social media services. And like Italy, with that barter there were still expenses for travel. Earning money for a spur of the moment trip during the holidays was tough, especially in a disintegrating economy. But through sheer will power to attend this once in a lifetime class on the one year countdown to 12.21.12 I got the dough together and was on my way to the ancient ruins of Teotihuacan Mexico.
Soon I was learning Toltec wisdom from a world-renowned master. It was pure joy. My consciousness rapidly expanding. Old patterns being discovered in the ruins of Teo and erased.
The goal of the 4 day workshop was to set our group dreaming of a better 2012 was a perfect fit to my DreamShield mission. I felt divine guidance to be in Teo for the one year countdown to the end of the Mayan age.
But, I must admit, I also felt out of my league to be attending such a gathering of eagles as the teacher called us one day in Teotihuacan Mexico when we were atop the Pyramid of the sun. Even though a natural eagle pattern has emerged in my hair as it’s whitened since seeing angels in Italy the first time. Yeah, an eagle in my hair and I still have doubts.
It’s an odd stage for me. I am no longer a newbie to spirit work and but there’s still a lot I do not have a clue about. I feel like a spiritual teenager. Well, a good thing to feel as I turn 60 in the fall of this amazing year of 2012!
In any case, I certainly felt honored to be in Teo. Fellow advanced students, I’ve learned at these gatherings, are as much a part of the learning as from the master. One classmate, a charming man from Turkey, shared meditation technique for quieting the mind at the pool I had not heard about.
Later, I walked deep into the big garden behind the hotel, which sits itself upon ruins of Teo, that have never been excavated, and gave his technique a whirl. It involves dividing your attention in two, giving half your awareness to a sound and the other to something visual.
I lay on my back on the manicured resort lawn and focused on the clouds and the feel of the grass in my hands. Soon I went deeper than I ever have in meditation. I saw dazzling energy erupt from all the Teotihuacan pyramids at once and was visited by the three angels from Italy that built the DreamShield in May of 2010.
I looked up at the three 7 foot tall angels I had first met in Italy. The spiked feathers of their blue wings glittered in the late Mexican afternoon sun.
“The solstice is not until tomorrow. You’re a day early.” I said as my higher Ohom ET angel self, annoyed my vacation was getting interrupted.
Archangel Michael said, “Element of surprise.”
“Yes,” I sighed, already far wiser than my Ken-self when I become Ohom.
Michael pulled me to my feet. I looked down from my 7 foot height saw my human Ken-body resting on the lawn in warm Teo sun.
“Well, at least my human self is having a rest.”
“Let’s go!” said Gabrielle, a beautiful female blue angel.
A year ago, I didn’t know the names of these angels, let alone that I was part of their clan of galactic enforcers from the Orion star system. Now 18 months later we had been on many missions together, closed the Bermuda Triangle, a failed Martian artificial merkaba experiment that had destroyed Atlantis and the remnants of which cause our wars and divorces, healed the San Andreas fault, melted a portal in space time for the earth to travel to the 5th dimension, unscrambled time with the MERLIN code, cut the tap to Gaia’s energy for the world’s banks and the Fed and much more recorded in this blog.
We rocketed into the sky from the gardens of the hotel. I could see the vast Teotihuacan pyramid complex shrinking beneath us as we broke though the clouds.
As we reached the edge of space, without asking, I knew our angelic mission. Rescue the heart of Gia. A heart I knew was no longer on the earth that was quickly shrinking beneath me. No, Gaia’s heart was being held by hostile Martians on a fortified canyon called Valles Marineris on Mars.
The rescue of Gaia’s heart would be dangerous, even for us with our Galactic enforcer powers, as this Martian canyon was filled with traps and weapons bent on our destruction. A tough search as the canyon is many times deeper than earth’s Grand Canyon and long as the entire US continent.
To be continued…
“If you are not happy in this world you are stupid.” – Don Miguel Ruiz, Author of THE FOUR AGREEMENTS
By Ken Sheetz
I sensed in meditation, that at its zenith, the multiracial culture of Teotihuacan did not know poverty or shame. It was a culture of pure positivity and love. Looking deeper, I saw in my meditations at the pyramid of the Sun, that the Teotihuacan culture became great through the tender guidance of ancient astronauts. Or ETs as we call them, even though they have been here on earth long before our species emerged.
How then did Teo fall, I further meditated? Ohom, my higher ET self sadly answered, “When our space ships left on a mission to another of the young worlds we care for, the people of Teo fell into fear of our return. Deeper and deeper the people sank in darkness without the light of the “Gods” as they called us. Finally, one of your elders suggested human sacrifice would speed our return. In desperation some of the people agreed, while other people who did not agree left Teotihuacan forever and took to the jungles in secret.”
Ohom continued, “One day, when the “Gods” returned of our own accord, we were appalled at the taking of human life in our name and so we took back our gifts of technology you were not ready for. Humanity was left time to evolve on its own before the ETs would ever return again. Our return is delayed by human sacrifice in the form of war, greed, starvation and consumerism that has never been greater than it is in 2011.”
As Ohom’s words echoed I saw Teo’s ancient people weep as the ships left for the stars in the middle of the night. Such sorrow went out from the people that I sat up from my meditation in deep racking sobs.
Ohom’s voice comforted me, “Please know, Kenneth, that though you may not be able to see us that we have never truly left you and do watch over you and all the people of your blue world in secret.”
A year from now Earth enters a golden age. The ET council still debates how fast our transformation will be, anything from a night-time to a million years for humanity to become the protectors, not consumers, of this world.
Both a night-time and a million years are the blink of an eye in universal time. My higher self, Ohom, has asked the ET council that full transformation to a positive society be 50 years, of which we are now 18 months deep into.
I urge you to get in touch with you higher self in the coming year in meditation and put in your vote with the ET council for the speed of our evolution. Much as I love him, I hope Ohom is out voted and the shift is faster rather than slower, for all our sakes and the world’s. Please post your vote for the length of the Shift and your reasoning below!
I recognize all of the above could be my own overactive imagination in my DreamShield meditations, simply beautiful symbols for my subconscious to express in words the deep impact Teotihuacan had upon me. An impact merged with my own history of abandonment as a child. Or perhaps that my sad history is why I have been gifted to see into the fall of the Teo. Who can say?
All that matters is that whatever it is that moves you, be it religion, science or visions of your own amazing minds, that we strive to change our society from the negative to the positive.
Namaste,
Ken Sheetz
Learn more of the wisdom of Don Miguel Ruiz at www.miguelruiz.com
Vision art “Welcome back” by Ken Sheetz http://facebook.com/dreamshield2012
“Top of the world, Ma!” – James Cagney WHITE HEAT
Spirit Reporter – Ken Sheetz
Angels do not condone violence as a solution, nor do I. Not to say I won’t pop a guy one, with fair warming, if he pushes me too far. I may see angels but I sure ain’t one. Angels simply work in ways that are 5th dimensional and so they show me things in symbolic 3 dimensional ways I can understand and report to you. Or for all I know they’ve added something to the water in LA. I have no idea why I am seeing all this as an ongoing vision for 18 months solid now. And what you see on my blogs is only about 20% of what I see. I could literally write about all this 24/7 and never catch up.
A few nights ago I meditated and asked the DreamShield to show me what the angels were up to in the quest for gentle 2012. I was whisked from LA to Chicago, where hundreds of earth angels, dressed like 1930’s mobsters, were shooting up my kinda town!
Earth angels zipped through the skies and skyscrapers of the loop, blasting away mercilessly at evil spirits corrupting our legal system and government. Legions of lawyer and judge demon spirits were blown away with the angel Tommy guns blasting bullets of lethal light. I laughed for joy at this unexpected angel work in my adopted home town!
On LaSalle Street I watched in wonder as none other that the great Humphery Bogart led a raid on the Federal Reserve Bank of Chicago.
I shouted to Bogey, “The Fed was a client of mine. The people I worked with seemed like regular Joes.”
“Who the heck are you?” Bogey said spinning on me.
“Ken Sheetz, a spirit reporter for the work of a gentle 2012.” I said as I held up my humble Flip camera.
“I’m huntin’ demons sucking the life outta Gaia, not regular Joes or dames! Got it?!” said Bogey shouting in my face, not a smart thing to do with my childhood of having a Drill Sargent dad, but I liked what Bogey was up to and let it slide.
“How about a gun for me then?”
“Swell. Jimmy give the junior reporter a heater!” Bogey said with relieved chuckle.
None other than the great James Cagey slapped a Tommy gun in my hands. “Welcome to the gang, kiddo. Be sure you get my good side, my left, in any photos or I’ll brain you.”
“Ok boys, time to cut the Fed’s credit line!” Bogey shouted.
“Kill any demon that moves and the ones that don’t.” added Cagney as the angel gangsters all cheered.
Guns blazing, Bogey led our charge into the Federal Reserve lobby. Demon guards drew ray gun pistols that were no match for the angels hail of light bullets. Even your faithful reporter lost all journalistic objectivity and got in demon kills. And before you know it the battle was done, the lobby clear.
“Nothing here but a stinking money museum!” Bogey fumed.
“How’s about this? ” said Cagney pointing to an armored elevator door locked tight with an electronic keypad.
“Try 11 -11-11 as the combo,” I offered.
Cagney rolled his eyes. “No pathway to Gaia’s gonna be some lame combo any sap could stumble on.”
“Do like he says!” Bogey snapped.
Cagney complied punching in all the numbers, “See? No dice.”
“Add four more 11s for 11:11 PM. No, wait, four more 11s for AM too.”
Cagney punched in the numbers. “Crap. So many ones I lost track! Your honor Mr.Elevens.”
I counted on my fingers saying, ” 11.11.11 and 11:11 AM and PM. That’s 7 -11s, fourteen ones.” and punched in the numbers. Not an easy task as I thought as the pattern on the keypad kept shifting and the #1 hopped to another spot every couple of seconds. But as I punched in the 14th one, the heavy armored elevator door opened.
What we saw was not good however. No elevator, just darkness and showers of sparks where the elevator cab should have been.
“Wise guys cut the cords. Gotta make a jump for it.” Bogey said looking down the miles deep shaft filled with dangerous sparking wires.
“Well, boys, in for a dime… ” shouted Cagey as he jumped past Bogey into the shaft.
The rest of the angel gang followed.
“Sheetz, stay behind and watch our backside.” said Bogey jumping into the fray and not giving me time to argue.
I peered down the scary elevator shaft, filming the brave angels battle slithering snakes of dark energy. Something stunk. I was aware of an evil presence. I spun and looked smack into the face with a giant golden snake. Its pitiless eyes looked right through me with the heartless effectiveness of a credit report.
“Stand aside, mortal. Thisss is not your fight.” the golden snake spoke!
I raised my Tommy gun. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
The snake leaped for me, fangs dripping with venom. My Tommy gun blazing, the snake and I fell together down the elevator shaft. ‘
I found myself in my boardroom at my Chicago real estate company. My partner and I were laughing as my construction manager sweated bullets. It was 1990, one year before my fall from the easy credit I had ridden to the top of Chicago’s commercial real estate world. We all laughed as the prospective “tenant” and took off her clothes in the middle of our employee’s presentation.
Bats flew at me as the snake hissed, “How can a man with so little respect for women that he’d bring a stripper to come into his company’s offices be a champion of Gaia?”
The snake was right. I had no comeback and it infuriated me. I drew my sword and switched on my red ethereal armor for battle as we fell for the center of the earth.
“Rage is your answer and your undoing!” said the snake as it bit right through my armor. Armor had never failed me and now in over a year of these visions. Poison raced through my veins. The speeding tumble of wires and the laughing gold snake faded.
It was 1991, I was in my family room hollering like a crazy man at my wife. Still, she bravely refused to sign the second mortgage papers I shoved in her face, papers that would have given me $250,000 to keep my failing real estate company alive.
The golden snake and I hit beam as it bit into my leg, fangs piercing me the bone. As we plumeted for the depths, locked in mortal combat, I saw a fevered parade of all the women I’d somehow hurt in my life, a fiance’, lovers, friends, co-workers, my daughter, my mother, even my Irish grandmother.
The snake was right! How could a chauvanist-jerk like me help the angels free Gaia’s heart from the vampire energy of the Fed tapping her dry?
“I’ve pumped enough poison into you to kill ten men! Why do you still persissst?” the golden snake hissed, shaking me in its jaws like a limp rag doll.
By the freshness that flowed in the dank elevator shaft I knew angels were near. Bogey flew past as he took aim at the great serpent. “Because Sheetz is already dead and now, snake, so are you!” The angels opened fire and the snake vaporized in a hail of angelic fire.
Cagney caught me in his arms, “Gotcha, kid!”
“What did, Bogart, mean I am already dead?” I asked, feeling better already.
“Get some sleep now. We got miles left to go. Christ you’re heavy!” Cageny complained as I drifted off.
I sat alone on Oak Street beach of Lake Michigan. It was winter 1992. Snowflakes swirled as I stared at the waves. I’d lost everything, my skyscraper, my cars, my company, my wife and kids. I walked into the icy water and kept walking until I was deep beneath the lake and I drowned.
I blinked awake in a great cavern, Bogart, Cagney and the angels all about me. “But if I died in 1992 how am I still alive in 2011?,” I said raising my throbbing head.
“Are you alive?” chuckled Bogart.
“Seems like I am,” I said checking my pulse.
“Look, kid, this ain’t no time for a lecture on mutli-verses. Alls that’s important you showin’ up to record what the angels do and give the people hope. Now shoot your camera over there.”
Bogey pointed to Cagney who was placing dynamite atop the energy tap the fed had to the core Gaia. The tap flowed with her precious blue-white energy to Federal Reserve and World Bank siphons all across the earth.
Now an army of snakes rose from the ashes of the old and surrounded Cagney.
“Get outta there, Jimmy. We can try this another day!” shouted Bogey.
“Got my left side, Sheetzy?”
I flashed Cagney the thumbs up as I had him my Flip camera’s view finder.
“Made it, Ma! Top of the world!” Cagney shoved down the plunger.
The cavern filled with explosions and fire that made hell seem like a picnic. I couldn’t see him, in the smoke and fire, but I heard Bogey shout,”Gaia is free!
I rose to full consciousness from my meditation, knowing in some crazy way that what I see the angels doing on another plane of reality helps our world, but wondering if I am in fact a ghost.
Your love donations atDreamShield.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.
“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.
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.
Namaste,
Ohom
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,
Angus McPherson
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.
Tired of shopping at events held in cramped old hotels with expensive parking or in dusty conference halls with hard concrete floors and bad air? So were we! So we created one of the most beautiful fresh air markets ever,
Between our dozen ascension workshops and great speakers, guest a shopped break and dined in vegan style and fresh air comfort at beautiful spiritual retreat Rancho De Las Palmas.
Green was the way for the Golden Age and DreamShield 11.11.11 The Ascension Convention, where Peter Pergelides with an assist from Ken Sheetz and Laura De Leon gathered together some of best exhibitors in the biz for our event.
Let’s start with our sponsors Earth Shift Products for 11.11.11’s tropical shopping retreat…
If you are searching for a quality online health food store, look no further than Earth Shift Products. We provide the very best online selection of raw and organic foods. Whether you want 100% Organic Agave Nectar to use as a natural sweetener, or organic handmade chocolate for an indulgent treat, or organic Blue Green Algae to help integrate brain and body function, you can find it here. Earth Shift Products is focused on more than just superfoods.
We also carry supplements such as Eucalyptus Oil, one of the strongest natural antiseptics around, and MSM Powder to help with joint health. In addition to our products for the body, we also offer household products like organic hemp wick Bee Line a natural alternative to lighters and matches.
If you want to learn more about raw organic food, then the Raw Food Bible by Craig Sommers is a must read. As an Earth Shift Products member you will save up to 70% off of retail prices on all of our products. You also receive our monthly newsletter, recipes, videos and full social networking access at the Earth Shift Project Community. We want you to think of Earth Shift Products as more than just your typical online vegan food store. Our site and products will help you live better, healthier, and smarter. Are you ready for the shift?
Sam Kiwasz and his tight knit community of Sacared Friends are one of the most respected exhibitors in New Age community displaying the finest Miron Violet glass and other sacred merchandise.
Says Sam, ” Just before the 1987 Harmonic Convergence, an idea came to me while meditating on top of the Pyramid of the Sun in Teotihuacan, Mexico. It was simply to create a sacred gathering space in my home where people could come on a weekly basis to support each other’s evolution. Thus was birthed “Transformational Friends of Santa Monica”.
We met every Wednesday night in my 2 bedroom apartment for 1 ½ years. Our evening consisted of a ½ hour silent meditation, music, speakers from the community and consciousness raising movies. We shared our hopes, dreams, fears, and I provided a wonderful wholesome meal for everyone. My intention was that anyone who came into my home would be uplifted on all levels just by being part of our community circle. We had as many as 40 attend my weekly gatherings at Transformational Friends.”
From that early beginning Sacred Friends has grown to include over 800 members. Says customer and Sacred Friend Ken Sheetz,. DreamShield’s founder, “We are honored, of all the 11.11.11 events happening on this once in a lifetime day, that Sam chose our Ascension Convention to exhibit at over all the others. Laura De Leon, my partner in DreamShield, and I wanted Sam with us as we are interested in a quality not quantity of vendors for this special day of ascension and Sam fit the bill on all accounts.
LifeSource has been committed to environmental awareness and protection since our founding in 1984. Since that time we have focused on returning water to its natural state, in a way that doesn’t harm people or our planet. Our products do not use or add chemicals or salts (that might find their way into our ecosystem) to water – our products simply remove unwanted substances while leaving naturally occurring and healthy minerals in the water. This principle of our corporate philosophy is as important to LifeSource as the quality of our products and the cost-efficiency of our operations. We place our innovations in the interests of the safety of people, the economical use of resources, and environmental sustainability.LifeSource has been endorsed by several environmental groups, including Global Green and Children’s Health Environmental Coalition, (CHEC). LifeSource is also proud to support The House of Children. Their indigenous health project reaches children and families through secure water, improved sanitation, bilingual health & hygiene and education programs aimed at improving health and hygienic infrastructure in context to their cultural and environmental needs. This indigenous health project is a first of its kind to be piloted in a native community in the southeastern Peruvian Amazon. This pilot project can be replicated in the Manu Rain Forest, as well as serve as a multicultural model for the preservation of biological and cultural diversity for indigenous people globally. LifeSource takes pride in being a founding sponsor of this critical effort.
Dr. Mehmet Oz, physician and author, is best known for his numerous appearances as a health expert on The Oprah Show, as well as his own syndicated series, The Dr Oz Show. In October 2009, Dr. Oz led a serious of discussions with leading experts in the field, during which he repeatedly recommended that homeowners use a water filter. He insists that a whole house water filter is crucial in order to protect their family from the chemicals in municipal water. Dr. Oz says, “I don’t think you should be bathing your kids in the tub unless you know that water is clean.”
Clean, healthy water is the way to go…just ask Dr. Oz or the friendly and professional LifeSource staff manning the booth at our 11.11.11 Convention.
Psychic since childhood, raised in both mystic and metaphysical teachings, Ron has enjoyed a lifetime steeped in vibrant flavors of divine essence. Ron has been a professional psychic for over 30 years as well as a contractor with an emphasis on green and sustainable construction for an overlapping 40 years. These days Ron is an organic farmer and co-owner of A Bee Organic Certification Agency in De Luz California. He makes time for readings as they’re mostly fun and these days with changes unfolding so quickly, even the most centered client needs the occasional reality(s) check.
It is Ron’s experience that we create our own realty in relation to the energies, tides, seasons of life. Meaning there are patterns, openings and gatekeepers always present. A lifetime is made up of- reactions to the doorways/patterns or with focused action in partnership to those same doorways and gatekeepers. It’s the optional choice between being hit and tumbledrepeatedly by the tide or swimming to catch the wave. There is no right or wrong but there is a difference in where we end up and the joy and ownership taken in getting there.
Ron is always happy to play with those in the process of awakening! This man is known for his deep belly-laugh and compassion even as he mirrors the impossible… which is never impossible if the timing is right and the intent is present. A typical Ron client is the being who is relinquishing outgrown family and cultural quagmires and learning to create from new ground. They value the maps, the humor and the fact that he’s good at holding open the doors and offering a steadying hand as they step through…
~11-11-11 Special~
11 Minute Reading – $22.00
Private readings are done by appointment, mostly via phone. http://ronelgas.com/
$160 for an Hour Reading Half-hour Reading is $80. To schedule an appointment or to dial at a per-scheduled reading time; Call – 760-731-7585
Rob Moses is a kung fu alchemist. In 1977 he began his formal training under master Kam Yuen at the Tai Mantis Academy, where he received his degree in northern Shaolin/Tai Chi Praying Mantis.
In 1983, Moses began training actor David Carradine, of TV’s Kung Fu fame. Moses helped David prepare for his role in the Chuck Norris film, Lone Wolf McQuade. In Kung Fu: The Legend Continues, Moses performed the role of Master Khan, the weapons expert and sergeant at arms. Moses would later prepare David for his role in the film Kill Bill.
In 2002 the United States Martial Arts Hall of Fame honored Moses with its “Founder of the Year” award for his development of Tai Shan Nine Palms. He received an International Soke Award as the founder of Tai Shan Mantis, a complete martial system that incorporates traditional and neoclassical kung fu.
Moses then began to explore the relations between sacred geometry and the human form. Through years of experimentation, he perfected his theory, extracted from a Fibonacci Spiral, manifested as the “perfect human gear.“ The extent of his discovery is revealed in the book The Divine Code of Da Vinci, Fibonacci, Einstein and You. This led to the development of the Phsiostix, a patented apparatus that helps enhance workouts using geometry, alignment and balance.
Hot Mama’s Naughtti Biscotti Conscious Cookies are brought to you as the best Organic, Kosher, Gluten-Free and Naturally Sweetened biscotti by master baker, Mikaela Rae of Topanga, CA. Handmade by a team of natural healers filling each cookie with Reiki energy and ensuring that every bite is a divine experience. Mikaela Rae is the multi-talented owner and President of Hot Mama’s Naughtti Biscotti and a spiritual healer. In the past she was a television actress, blues singer and make-up artist who’s traveled the world tasting the best desserts and foods all over. She began developing recipes in 2004 then relocated back to NYC to officially begin her baking company in 2006.
By initially making the biscotti as gifts for her friends and family, they soon convinced her to make it a business, and so she did. Hot Mama’s Naughtti Biscotti are created with the freshest ingredients including organic gluten-free flour, sweetened with organic natural beet sugar, generously dipped in the finest Ghiradelli or raw Picari chocolate and covered with nuts, spices, teas or fruit zest.
They are sinfully divine, absolutely delicious and full of flavor. The biscotti will be sold in The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf stores in California, Nevada and Arizona and soon to follow across the US and popping up in other store brands, Hollywood studios and vineyards. They are also available through retail mail order online at www.hotmamasbiscotti.com. Order early for your holiday events and gifts. Corporate accounts welcome. We look forward to bringing you the best tasting, all natural and organic biscotti you’ve ever experienced.
“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.
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.
“We are ascending from an EGO based existence to living from our HEARTS! The ascension is within!” – Laura De León
DreamBlogger – Ken Sheetz
As we cruise at light speed for the 11.11.11 Ascension Convention, which Event Director Laura De Leon,I and our team of volunteers, work on this amazing event with a dedication bordering on the driven behavior right out of CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND. Or in the case of our 11.11.11 meditations of ETs and their role in the shift, A CLOSE ENCOUNTER OF THE THIRD EYE.
Yes, it all makes sense as DreamShield began from ET angels. I can still see their alien skin sparkle and their gowns glow, thinking back to the yoga hall in Italy in May of 2010. I watched breathlessly as the ET angels created the energetic force field I eventually named the DreamShield… once I came out of shock. An energy field that has many names. One of such infinite power that one day humanity will learn to use it to shift earth from one part of its orbit to another to out dance any hostile element or foe, perhaps take us safely into the 5th Dimension.
Laura, with little help from me — as I’ve been busy creating the website, making 11 promo videos and populating the event on Facebook after securing sponsor Earth Shift Products (how perfect is that?) for the amazing venue of Rancho De Las Palmas and arranging to film the spectacle for LiveStream.com/DreamShieldTV — has worked herself to exhaustion assembling a stellar group of a dozen workshops, great musicians and exhibitors for this interstellar event.
And to cap it all off Laura secured Galactic Dolphin channeler Aros Crystos, my friend the DreamShield-Nashville, Renato Longato, a famed UFO expert, and Jackie Salvitti, an ET healer, as the keynote speakers of the day with music by out of this world Philippo Franchini, who will accompany Laura in sacred song. Take a peek but come back.
My hope is that all the 1s in the 11.11.11 date are a sign of first contact and that Renato, who is gifted at calling in UFOs for Sky Watches where ships have in fact been filmed with witnesses of 20 people, see the video on our DreamShield official 11.11.11 web page, will succeed in getting a ship to land so that all who wish might take a quick trip to Mars on to cap off the great day. Hey, a guy can dream can’t he?
THE 11TH VAULT MEDITATION
Somehow, during all the commotion of The Ascension Convention prep work, the message for what I am to conduct my meditation about on 11.11.11 has come through loud and clear. The premise is clever and powerful. Like I say ET angels have a great sense of humor and irony.
Corporations fought tooth and nail with our courts over the past 150 years to be and remain classified as artificial living beings. Artificial beings, strangely, with the same human rights as we the people. And they succeeded. But what the corporations did not foresee, but what the angels have, is that in becoming living things they created a heart for themselves. Granted, that corporate heart may pump money instead of blood, but a heart is more than a pump and we together with the ET angels are going to warm that corporate heart!
I see that once their hearts are warmed they can no longer fund war, harmful products or tolerate poverty and famine. As Laura said when she convinced me of the ascension theme for this event “The Ascension is Within” and this mediation is the ultimate inside bank job.
Come meditate with us on 11.11.11 to Re-Boot the planet into the Golden Age. Tickets for 11.11.11 The Ascension Convention on sale at DreamShield.org
Media, Meditations & Musings 