A Talk With 1991 Me

By Ken Sheetz

The bad news is time flies. The good news is you’re the pilot. ~Michael Althsuler

A talk with 1991 meIt’s 2014 as I meditate in my new Sedona home to be in contact with my 1991 self.  I see myself at age 39 working late in my 303 West Madison offices in downtown Chicago on the 19th floor.  All the staff has gone home.  I’m working harder and longer than everyone as usual.

It’s January 4, 1991.  Snow drfits past the big dual pane office windows.

I glance from the windows at an invite on my desk.  I’ve been invited to a late New Year’s Eve office party that a competitor property is throwing in the east Loop.  I’m debating on going.  Parties are not my thing in 1991 or today.  My brain hurts at parties.  I am a one on one person.

I can see 1991 me gazing nervously across the street at the under construction skyscraper I am the managing partner for, One North Franklin.  I am tense as hell because the curtain wall, the very skin of the building is badly behind schedule.  I am in danger of losing $ 8 million in guarantees if the building is late in delivery.  So 1991 me paces the office like a caged beast.

Back in 2014 I am thrilled to discover this time machine compartment of my brain.  One that’s always been there waiting for me to open the hatch and fire it up.  I easily read my 1991 mind:

“Damnit.  I wonder if the GC (general contractor) is still working?  Should I try to chew his ass out now for screwing up my building or wait to Monday?” says my angry 1991 self.

I’ve always had conversations in my mind with myself like this over important matters.  — Way before my spirit awakening in 2010 where I met ET spirits that looked like angels in Italy that put me on missions to help the planet through meditation, missions that have taken me as far as Antarctica. — So this seems like a perfect time to answer myself.  And the way this works, dear reader, is it’s done in real-time as I type, so pardon my typos.

“It won’t matter.  Nothing you do is going to save this project.  Go home to your wife and kids,” I say to my 1991 me.

1991 Ken stops cold in his pace of panic, “Where did that voice come from?”  1991 me hurries to door and looks up the empty hallway.

“I’m in your head,” I say to 1991 me.

“Gloria said I was working too hard and would go nuts.”

“Your wife is right about the working too hard part.  But you are not going nuts,” I say finishing a plate of hash.
A phone call from a client breaks my connection to 1991 Ken.  An hour later I find in his emerald-green Jaguar driving home to Lake Forest.

“I’m back.” I say in 1991 Ken’s mind almost making him swerve the car off the freeway.

“Who are you and how are you inside my head?” demands 1991 me.

“Who do I sound like?” I say.

“Dad?” 1991 me worries.

“Way off.  I’m you, Ken Sheetz 23 years in the future.” I offer gently trying not to sound like the father we both hate for playing mind games with us as a kid.

“You’re me, time traveling from the future like Dr. Who in my head?  Ha.  Prove you’re me.  Tell me something about me no one else could possibly know, ” says Ken of 1991 turning down the Jag’s radio playing the Rolling Stones.  ’91 Ken’s free to talk out loud in the privacy of his traveling the express lanes of the Kennedy.

I don’t need to think long and I offer sadly, “You and your wife had a terrible fight on your honeymoon night when she didn’t want sex.”

“Jesus, you are me.  Or maybe just me going nuts.  My own voiced aged up in my head,” says ’91 me.

“I can prove I’m real with telling you what will happen tomorrow.  Give me a sec to Google January 5, 1991 news.” I say.

“What’s Google?” says ’91 Ken.

“A company that will become to source of all factual knowledge on earth by 2014.   I am using it to research… ah, here’s something cool that’s going to happen tomorrow January 5, 1991 that you can use to tell yourself this is all very real, me contacting you telepathically from the future.  Redskins 20 – Eagles 6.  Redskins win’s final scoring drive is a field goal in the third quarter.  And in case you need more proof Randall Cunningham will pass for exactly 205 yards in the game.  Impossible to guess that stat.”

“Well, so a future stock on an oracle called Google and the score of a playoff game.  Hope this is real,” ’91 me says.

“It is real as that Jaguar you won’t be driving much longer, ” I say sadly.

“What?  Am I going to get into a car accident tonight?” shouts ’91 me, eyes darting at the busy Chicago traffic ahead.

“Worse.  You heading for the meltdown of your entire financial life.  You’ll be returning the Jaguar to the dealer on foot in a year,” says 2014 me sitting at my desk in Sedona feeling like shit and wondering what use it is warning my past self about all this.

“How does this all unravel so fast?”

“A wave of commercial loan failures has the banks taking properties back.  By 1994 almost every building in the Loop will have gone back to the lenders.  Your building, our building, One North Franklin, we be the pioneer, the poster child, in the banks seizing commercial properties and driving rents into sub 1970 levels.  No loan will be sustainable.  But since you are the first Barclays Bank is going to annihilate you for their losing $80 million on the project.  You’ll be hung out to dry as an example to…”  I am interrupted in 2014 by client Nick Edwards who loves calling me on weekends, holidays and evenings.  In other words on my time off.  Poor 1991 me has to wait 15 minutes for to get back to Ken ’91.

“Sorry, I have a job in social media here in the future.  My hours are nuts, ” I say.

“What the hell is social media?” 1991 me says.

“The future.  Starts after a dot-com bust of 2000.  Only invest in Amazon.com and get some Apple stock. ”

Me in 1991 has progressed to the Edens expressway on the commute home to my million dollar home in the affluent suburb of Lake Forest.   A home I will lose in the crash of ’91.

“Why am I’m not working in real estate anymore in 2014?” 1991 says, half glad I am back and half not.

“By 1992 you’re poor as a kid out of college, but brokerage keeps you afloat.  By 1995 you start becoming a filmmaker and leave for a life in Hollywood in 2002.  You never look back.  You’re happy being an artist even though the money sucks,” I say.

“Gloria would never let that happen, ” says Ken 1991.

“She dumps you in 1992 when you fall off the money wagon, with a lot of help from how depressed and angry you are about losing your ass from the skyscraper repo.  So you’re free to be the artist you went to college to be,”  I say trying to make it all sound wonderful.  But I can read the rising fear and panic in my 1991 self, a self that’s still riding high and worth about $12 million at the time.

“This is more than I can handle.  I hope it’s my overactive imagination and the Redskins lose tomorrow, ” 1991 me says sadly.

“Seriously, it’s all going to be for the best.  You are a great person.  You don’t need the Jaguar, the million dollar mansion, the skyscraper, it’s all a trap.  You are about to be set free, ” I say brightly in Ken 1991’s sad mind that seems to be filling with quicksand that’s making it hard for me to stay connected to him.

“Bullshit.  You’re not telling me all the truth, ” says 1991 me.  I forgot how tough and vicious I could be in 1991.  I was Chicago’s most ruthless real estate broker.  Number one according to the Chicago Sun Times in 1987 and soon to be 1991 developer of the year for building Oprah Winfrey’s Harpo studios while building One North Franklin.  No wonder I had no time for my wife and kids.  Yeah, I’ve forgotten how super tough I had to be to get to the top of Chicago’s real estate world.  And I was driven by showing my asshole of a drill sergeant father I was better than him.

“It won’t be easy for you.  Gloria has all the assets in her name to protect everything from the banksters, what we call the obviously fucked up hucksters of finance in 2014.  In 1992 Gloria preemptively files for divorce while you separate.  She hires the toughest divorce lawyer in Chicago.  A ruthless SOB who takes every last dime you have left after the skyscraper goes back to the lender.  Worst part of all this is that her preemptive move breaks your heart.  You’ve, um, we were sweethearts since college.  You don’t see the divorce coming even though you are a ego tripping dick and hard as hell to live with.  You end up broke as hell most of the rest of your life after the skyscraper fails, and the divorce hamstrings you, until 2009 when you start a company called BuzzBroz and get back on your feet,” I quickly tell my 1991 self.

“I won’t let any of this shit happen.” says 1991 me bitterly as he pounds the steering wheel.  He outweighs 2014 me by 20 pounds and he’s strong as a bull.  I’d forgotten how strong I was.  Once in a fit of rage I broken a wooden chair in toothpicks with my bare hands..

“You can’t change history,” I say grimly, the voice of my own doom.

“I’ve almost read every science fiction ever written.  Using what you’ve told me I simply need to take steps to do things different from you did and presto, new future, ” 91 me says.

“That would mean I wouldn’t do my film career.  Wouldn’t become spiritually in 2010 awake filming a SoulDrama workshop in Italy where I saw ET angels that gave me these powers and so I would never be able to telepathically connect to you to share what I just shared.  Paradox,” I say.

“So why tell me all this shit?” 91 me shouts.  I had a loud mouthed temper back then.  Some people think I still do.  But I am as gentle as a mouse in 2014 compared to 1991.  I am bully at home with my loud voice.  My kids trembled in fear of me though I never hit them.  My voice was force of nature. No wonder Gloria divorced 1991 me.

“What if when I change the past a new future splits off?  No paradox then.  You simply become one version of my 2014 possible selves in that scenario,” 1991 me says in excitement, voice tinged with the grace of genius.

“That’s actually quite possible!  It’s a 21st century quantum physics theory called multi-verses.   Maybe that’s why I called you.  To give one of my futures that chance to beat fate,” I say in wonder.

As my savvy 1991 self pulls onto the snowy street of my Lake Forest mansion I quickly add, “Gloria’s a good woman who listens to her mother too much.  She’ll stand with you if you’re kinder and gentler with her.  No other person you ever date or love is going to click with you like Gloria does.  Get out of the skyscraper deal before the spring.  Take whatever you can get because or you end up with less than nothing.  Get a job in corporate films.  Filmmaking in Hollywood is a closed system.  You waste ten years of your life out there before waking up spiritually in Italy with the DreamShield and eventually living in Sedona.  Staying married might save the relationship with your/my kids, who become seriously fucked up by the divorce.  One almost kills themselves as a teen and both never speak to you in 2014,” I say as 1991 me pulls into the driveway.

1991 me is crying now and says, “For the kids sake most of all, thanks for all the info, future me.  It rings true.  So I’m putting big money on the Redskins to win 20-6 tomorrow.  You better be right or I swear I’ll hire a scientist to invent a time machine , find you in 2014 and beat your ass.”

We each have a tearful laugh.  My 1991 sense of humor shows the heart is still there and he adds, “With the Redskins winnings I’ll start a small corporate film biz, always wanted to make movies.  Our psychic mom always said advertising was what I should be doing.  I’ll dump my partnership in the skyscraper to Smeltzer (not real name the guy might sue 2014 me he’s such a dick) who’s always wanted to be top dog.”

“Whoa.  Be sure you get that deal in bank first.  Don’t give up control to Smeltzer until you do.  In my timeline Zeller cannot complete the deal to me for getting out as I started too late in the fall on 1991 but Smeltzer takes over anyways without giving me a penny.  Understandable.  Smeltzer’s clever.  So he won’t be hurt, except for his pride, when the market falls.  No bad karma in unloading to Smeltzer.  Smart, you 1991 Ken.  But don’t be greedy take whatever Smelter offers you.  But cash in that bank is king, Kenny boy.  Get it from the jerk, or someone else in the partnership, and good luck.  Speaking of good luck, call your corporate film biz BuzzBroz.  That’s what I call mine in 2009.”

BuzzBroz, I like this name. Of course I would.  I think of it!  Any more stock tips or football tips for me about the future?” laughs Ken, chomping at the bit at change the future.

“You already know enough to be a billionaire ten times over.  Enough fucking greed!” I say surprised at my anger with my 1991 self.  “Greed is killing this world in 2014.  Instead use the wealth of your knowledge of the future to help find ways to stop a thing called chemtrails from happening, work on a ending poverty.  Be your childhood super hero.  BE Superman! — And I do have some better tips for you than stocks.  Get some fucking therapy for all the shit we went through as kids with mom and dad.  Especially our drill Sargent dad.  I didn’t do therapy until after the divorce when I almost killed myself from a suicidal depression.”  I say.

“Christ, I hope I can save my family or this gets grim.” 1991 says.

“Yes. Grim than I will share today, but you get through it because you are made of indestructible stuff.  Your wife and kids may not be as lucky.  One of them almost killed themselves after you got ejected from Lake Forest.  So you need that therapy help to save the marriage, to save your/our family.  Your/our father really fucked us up BIG TIME.  No shame in that.  You can be fixed with therapy!  An anger guru named Mitch Messer can clear up your anger issues in less than a year.  Make you a master of you old childhood rage.  Love yourself enough to do that for you and failing loving yourself do it for Gloria and the kids.”

“Ok, Ok, I’ll do it.  Mitch Messer.  OK.  Anger management.  I’ll do it.  Sheesh.  Guess I’m a nag by 2014,” kids 1991 me.

“Fuck you, I mean fuck me.  — And change your priorities.  Put the kids numero uno.  They need you more than you can ever know.  You are worthy of their love and Gloria’s.  Stop thinking your wife and kids are stupid to love a jerk like you.  Family first, that includes our brothers and mom.  See less of your father looking for something that ain’t there.  He’s hopeless.  Never matures to the day he dies.  He was born for one thing.  To fuck us up. —  Learn to meditate.  Live from the heart and only take on clients with heart.  Our world is dying of a lot things in 2014.  Work supporting clients looking to support a better world.  Look up a scientist named Patrick Flanagan at a company called PhiSciences and tell him Ken Sheetz of 2014 sent you.  He will believe you.  He amazing and part of my being able to reach you is from a thing he invented called the Neurophone that boosts IQ.  Not a plug.  Get one.  It will make all this easier for you.”

1991 me pulls into the driveway of my heavenly million dollar home I/we designed personally.  Ken ’91 opens the door to the huge kitchen, wondering if it’s too late to save his family life.  Gloria and our two kids, Jon and Janelle, ages 12 and 9, run to the door to greet 1991 me with hugs and kisses.  And in that very instant Ken 1991 and Ken 2014 both know that it’s  not too late.

I am in tears as I close the blog.  This really happened(s).  This is not fiction.  I save(d) a family.  My own.

And I did in time to take my daily meditation hike in Sedona.  Peace!

TURKOS AND THE MERMAID’S QUEST – A True Past-Life Story

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.

FirefoxScreenSnapz022One 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.

FirefoxScreenSnapz015I’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

FirefoxScreenSnapz020One, 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.

FirefoxScreenSnapz021A 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 

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Shama Viola of Damanhur Italy with our past life clay work. That’s me as Maya in the foreground

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.

How 12.12.12 Almost Did Not Happen – Part One

no fear no doubts

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!

EXPAND HEAVEN

Image
Heaven

Go to Heaven for the climate, Hell for the company.
Mark Twain

By Ken Sheetz

The visions here at Great Spirits Ranch continue to astound me.  Last night I awoke at 4:30 AM and knew I must do a DreamShield meditation for the next phase of the Shift, a phase we’ve all been waiting billions of years for, since the birth of this universe.  And without any “thinking” I knew what I must do: Expand Heaven.

I traveled to the dimension of Heaven in a blink, how I knew the way I do not question, I simply knew.  There were gathered a multitude sitting amongst the clouds.  I’ve never been to Heaven before so my earthly mind said, “Hmm, people sitting on clouds.  Guess the cliches were cliches because it’s true.”

I announced, in a surprising voice that carried to the infinite distances of the tiny point of Heaven, which is a dimension no bigger than a molecule, “On March 12, 2012, Hell was closed for once and for all.  Reconstruction of a new inner Earth in it’s place is going perfectly.  Now, the time has come to end Heaven as well.”

I could see sadness, but resolve, on the faces of the many beings from countess worlds, and so I added, “Rejoice, for Heaven is to be dissolved and spread.  Expanded until its essence permeates all the universe and thereby brings a new Heaven to all.”

And a great cheer rose from the countless angels and spirits.  Then, in utter silence we began the work of expanding Heaven from a tiny molecule to a vastness that will encompass the entire universe.  The force and energy of the work of the multitude felt like a non-pressure.  I was expanding too.

The start of Heaven’s expansion underway, I returned to my exhilarated human body in my RV bedroom at the amazing Great Spirits Ranch.  Falling instantly back to peaceful slumber for the rest of the night, I had wondrous dreams of Heaven’s glorious expansion.  I saw the divine feminine unfold in its full beauty and power.  I saw the masculine become invulnerable to all disease and disorder.

So, if the world seems a bit more colorful and brighter today, your step a bit lighter, thank the higher powers who assure me that when 12.21.12 comes and Heaven is upon us all, “Everything will be fine.”

For more of my vision work please visit www.dreamshield.org where you’ll find PayPal links for donations and links to my blog.

A Blue Angel’s 2012 Predictions

Sing like no one’s listening, love like you’ve never been hurt, dance like nobody’s watching, and live like its heaven on earth. – Mark Twain

By Ken Sheetz

I’ve been resting up for days for this posting.  Channeling is still new for me and I feel a bit afraid opening myself up for this one big.  2012!  Have we done our job I wonder manifesting a gentle 2012?

I am nervous to open the channel.  I don’t want to have let Ohom and his people down.  Ohom, for any new readers is my higher ET self, a blue angel-like ET from the Orion’s belt star system.

To heck with fear!  Here goes.  This is like closing your eyes with them still open.  I have no idea what Ohom has in store for us…

“Ohom, I am ready.  Take over the keyboard and tell us what we can expect in 2012!”

“Thank you, Ken Sheetz, for this opportunity to share my predictions for 2012 with your readers.  I want to emphasize that my predictions are an energetic not to be taken literally, but spiritually. 

The work of gentle 2012 has been magnificent, keep it up, all of you people of the light, no matter how different from my 2012 predictions it may seem.  All sorrow is an illusion.  Stay joyous!

January 1, 2012 – As the last of earth’s time zones shift into 2012 a ripple in the space-time continuum flutters through the hearts of every human being on your world.

January 11, 2012 – The heart ripple, now 10 days old, breaks away the crust of the old programming around the hearts of humanity.  Freedom after eons of enslavement sends billions to dance in the streets.

February 10, 2012 – The heart ripple grows to a tsunami.  People for first time are able think as one. Governments, banks and corporations collapse when people see such ill serving institutions are obsolete.

March 21, 2012 – The dark ones threaten nuclear destruction if the people will not obey to the old.  New humanity calls the bluff, but it was no bluff and a launch of h-bombs is made.  But the human mind that now operates as one neutralizes the bombs midway and they fall to earth as rose petals.  Triumph.  Humanity is truly free.

May 11, 2012 – Freed of its slavery to the old for nearly two months, humanity creates the first thought powered forms of teleportation.  The first living being to teleport is kitten named Whiskers.  Whiskers travel around the earth in just 24 minutes, making one stop in each teleportation station in each of earth’s time zones.

June 21, 2012 – Earth celebrates the summer solstice with freedom from oil addiction by manifesting of a fleet of clean solar energy cars for all.  Oil wells are capped.  Gaia rejoices.

July 11. 2012 – Hunger and homelessness upon the earth is officially a thing of the fading past.  All eat healthy, and fast food restaurants are converted to living museums.

August 10, 2012 – The 2012 Presidential elections are officially called off as humanity no longer needs politics.  Whiskers replaces Obama as America’s figure-head of state.

September 21, 2012 – Love is recognized as earth’s official new currency.  All the animals in every zoo are freed.  The oceans and air are purified in a wave of purifying positive human thought.

October 11, 2012 – Cancer officially becomes the last disease to fall under the power of earth’s shared positive consciousness.

November 11, 2012 – Shared dreams replace TV and movie as the greatest form of entertainment on the planet.

December 21, 2012 – Parties that have been going on for 10 days erupt into global shout of joy at the end of the Mayan calendar.

December 22, 2012 – The spaceships of Orion hear the joyous shout of humanity and we arrive on the first day of your golden age. 

December 31, 2012 – One billion people teleport to my home world in the Orion belt for a cultural exchange.  To humanity’s shock it is You who we are learning from.  The people of earth are greatest manifestors in all the universe!  All galactic society rejoices that you finally have stepped into your own power to co-create heaven on earth.

Happy New Age 2012, Humanity!”

END BLUE ANGEL TRANSMISSION

The Fall of Teotihuacan and the Rise of Humanity in 2012

“If you are not happy in this world you are stupid.” – Don Miguel Ruiz, Author of THE FOUR AGREEMENTS

By Ken Sheetz

Asking for Help with a Gentle 2012 from Quetzalcoatl at The Pyramid of the Sun

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

DreamShield.org

Learn more of the wisdom of Don Miguel Ruiz at www.miguelruiz.com

Vision art “Welcome back” by Ken Sheetz http://facebook.com/dreamshield2012

BOGEY LEADS ANGEL RAID ON THE FED!

“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.”

Note Cagney’s wings of flame in the film WHITE HEAT? I saw him blow up the tap to Gaia before finding this amazing still.

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 11.11.11 Visions #4 – The 11th Vault’s Secret Mission

“Angels may be sneaky, but the stinkers have humanity’s best interests at heart.” – Ken Sheetz

December 4, 2011 – Important DreamShield 2012 Vision Report!

Back a few blogs ago I wrote of how at 11:11 PM, as Laura De León, did a meditation count down on the big stage at the 11.11.11 Ascension Convention we co-hosted,  I saw the 11th vault door, so massive that it locked off the entire face of the Earth,  turn red-hot as we meditated with the blue angels in our midst and that I saw the huge vault simply vaporize from outer space at the climax our day-long group 11.11.11 meditations.  And when Laura handed me the mic, expecting some lengthy vision I had seen I simply said, “The angels melted the vault,” to the cheers of the crowd.

But I went silent because strangely I saw no heart of banks to warm, the 11th Vault meditation’s purpose that climaxed 6 months of meditation opening the 10 other vaults to this final vault.  Or so I thought as I talk about in detail on blog link above (important to review to understand this latest vital vision fully)  Why then had I been guided to do this meditation that seemed pointless?

So many mysteries.  I’d not been so confused about a vision since this all began with my seeing the DreamShield in Italy back in May of 2010 that got this whole project started, set dates years in advance for key meditations, via a God-like voice and all.  Then, a few days ago, came the amazing 11.11.11 after-vision you see pictures above, as best as I can render it for you, dear reader, and I became even more confused.

So today I surrendered and channeled Ohom, my higher blue-ET-angel-self, to get the scoop on what’s the heck’s going on!

“Ohom, millions of angels tugging on golden threads wrapped around the Earth, pulling the world through a hole in the space-time fabric left behind by our 11th vault meditation.  What’s this 11.11.11 after vision mean?” I said, thinking I sounded more like a journalist than a channeler.

“Hallelujah!” Shouted Ohom.  – By the way, you’ve not lived until you’ve heard an angel shout ‘Hallelujah’ in your echoing head. –  Ohom joyously continued,  “Rejoice!  Your 11.11.11 event meditation, along with 5 million people across the Earth at various sacred sites, opened a portal to the 5th dimension.  We are in the process now of what you call The Shift.”

“We opened a portal?  I thought we were unlocking the vault to the heart of earth’s banks on 11.11.11?” I asked, feeling a tickle of anger.

“Sorry, it was necessary to withhold the true purpose of the work from you and everyone else on your world,” Ohom answered without shame.

“If you didn’t trust me to keep a secret, you could have at least trusted Laura De León, who ran sacred ceremony for event.” I said.

“Far too risky for the beautiful diva’s safety and yours.  We kept all 11.11.11 events across the Earth scattered, moderate in size, and unaware of what you were doing so as not to draw attention of the dark forces.  Forces that were, in fact, tracking your 11th vault meditation, which was all over the web.  But as the dark ones know that banks are in fact heartless, as you too now know, the dark forces merely got a chuckle out of your work.”

“A chuckle?”

“Their overconfidence is their undoing.  The portal you and the five million opened means the Shift will succeed without question.”

“What if the dark forces close the portal, or block it?” I said.

“According to the Galactic Treaty of Pangea since it was created telepathically by your species, the hole in space you co-created with the 5 million signals humanity’s ascension and thus the portal cannot be closed.”

“Nice.  All without any of us knowing what we the heck were doing? Kinda takes the fun out it.” I sighed.

“You mean the ego out of it?” Ohom laughed playfully.

“Laura got that ball rolling beautifully of ego to heart.  At least one of us knew what we were doing! ” I groused.

“Let go your anger, Ken, lest you end up a modern-day Moses.”

“Left behind as the rest of the people entered the promise land?  Swell.  You mean there will be an earth that’s like the one we have today to get left behind on?”

“Yes, but it will not be like the Earth of today. It will be a place of total Ego, no heart, where the few rule over the many like cattle.” said Ohom with deep compassion that tinkled like wind chimes.

“Sounds like a typical corporation.  Look, I’m doing my best, Ohom.  But, frankly, I feel blackmailed into giving up my ego with this Moses stuff.  And I sure ain’t no Moses.” I said, surprised at my own outrage.

“Ken, there’s not time left for soft-pedaling this.  You must live from heart to make the Shift.  I tell you this from love, not to blackmail you.”

“Sorry.  I’ve been a bear to be around for over a month now.  Where has all my peace of mind from the Work gone?” I said in hoarse whisper.

“The past and present are mingling in this transition, like the old caterpillar and the new butterfly in the cocoon.  Both existing simultaneously before the birth of the new.”

“You make it sound poetic, but I tell you this caterpillar/butterfly thing is driving me nuts.”

My best advice: Look forward.  Let yourself be happy that there is a higher power on humanity’s side, guiding all.  The dark forces cannot win.  I leave you in peace.  Namaste, Ken Sheetz.”

“Namaste, Ohom.  It is an honor to be part of you.”

END TRANSMISSION

Your love donations at DreamShield.org at the PayPal link on the page help me report work on the angel visions which, hopefully with your help, I will one day gather into a book.

ET Angels Pack the House on 11.11.11. Well, we did advertise "ETs get in for free."

The 11.11.11 Visions – #2 – The 11th Vault and Its Uninvited Guardian

Most of the shadows or this life are caused by our standing in our own sunshine. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

By Ken Sheetz

11.11.11 was here at last.  The date that I’d been getting messages to hold a DreamShield event on since 5.5.10, when I saw the 7 foot tall blue angels build a force field around earth that was capable of harnessing the mass consciousness of humanity to protect this world and help manifest a gentle 2012.  Looking at the sentence I just wrote, I still have a hard time believing the 30 some events attended by so many now and recorded on YouTube in over 200 videos from around the world in just 18 months has really happened.

Really, I don’t proclaim to believe to know what’s behind any of my visions, could be anything from a tumor to the real thing, angels from outer space, and here was all this happening and much more to come.  And happening to a man not used to the public spotlight.  A filmmaker who prefers to stay behind the camera rather than in front.

11.11.11 - The Ascension Convention, LA

Unfortunately, come 11.11.11 I had been so busy helping put this event together, from securing our location event sponsor EARTH SHIFT PRODUCTS, also our 10.10.10 sponsor and to whom we are eternally grateful, to using my old architectural skills of making floor plans to marketing, via my social media company BuzzBroz, to arranging video production gear for the day, planning interviews with exhibitors and much more, that I’d not given much thought to my part in the ceremonies Laura De León had planned so impeccably for the day, but, out of love and respect, had left me the space to plan by myself.  And I’d planned nothing.

What the heck would I do on stage, in front of all these people who had paid to be here, if I saw no angels?  Sing karaoke?  Do a card trick?  I’d actually had one in my pocket I was not very good at.   It felt like one of those college exam dreams where you lost your speech and had to go on before the class, naked.

Nora Delgado's Workshop

Fortunately, Laura had plenty more wonders for the people to experience that day than me if I bombed.   As Laura’s day of amazing workshops on ascension minded topics drew to a close I took to the stage and looked at the enthused crowd.   A crowd that would have been larger but for the rains that were now starting to patter on the beautiful big tent that I thanked the angels was here for us.  I’d been angry with the angels all week during the lousy weather forecasts. It hardly ever rains in California.  Why rain and cool weather on this magical day of 11.11.11?

A voice kept assuring me, ” All is as it should be, Ken.  These fine group of people who braved the weather are just what this meditation to unlock the 11th vault needs.”

“Easy for the angels to say,” I raged inwardly at the voice within me.  “ETs and angels have no need for money.  This rain means I just worked 15 hour days for three months without a day off without a pay day.  Angels are lousy bosses.”

Laura De Leon introduces nervous me (Note the tongue.)

Very small of me, I know, chewing out angels.  They don’t call me the Larry David of the spirit world for nothing!  All my spiritual growth of the past 18 months was out the window.  So when Laura asked if I could speed things up on my meditation as the night was already behind schedule, well, this did not help my disposition.  Ironically, the theme of the night was Laura’s brilliant idea of humanity ascending from ego consciousness to living from the heart, and here I was having a ego trip about being rushed at my own event.

Yes, my angels love comedy.  It’s a galactic reality show I feel at times with all of us as human cameras, cameras that also have every human sense recorded for the galactic audience to relish in.  Kinda like THE MATRIX meets THE TRUMAN SHOW.  At times, frankly it pisses me off to be laughed at so much.  But ETs, as Jackie Salvitti of ETHEALING.COM, one of our night’s featured speakers, says, “ETs have a great sense of humor.”

It explains much.  How boring watching us would be if our weather were perfect.  Yeah, angels are stinkers that throw challenges at us that would make any reality show producer blush.  You heard it here first.

But all my doubts and ego subsided as I looked over the beautiful crowd of eager happy faces in the tent.  Honestly, Ive done a lot of public speaking in business and attended many events, but in all my 30 years of that corporate junk I’ve never seen a crowd as open as receptive and beautiful as the one gathered under the tent at Rancho De Las Palmas. The stinker angels were right.  This was the perfect crowd to meditate on opeing the hearts of banks.

Then suddenly, as the crowd’s passion picked me up off my grouchy butt, dozens blue angels materialized, filling every the empty white seat scattered in the crowd.  As I reported this news of ET angels joining the 11th Vault meditation, a thrill went through the gathering.

Now, I began to see earth from space and the golden vault door that was hiding the heart of earth’s banks.  This earth-size safe cracking was a mammoth job I told the meditating crowd.  Honestly, folks.  Whatever it is we are we are far more powerful than we know.  I could feel the energy of the crowd willing the vault to open.   The crowd’s energy filled my exhausted body with vitality and I knew in that moment what has kept old performers like the Stones young and alive.

Next, I saw millions of angels pulling at the golden door.  I shouted joyously the meditating crowd, “Imagine if we can open the vault and warm the heart of the banks! Banks with a heart would no longer fund wars, fund polluters! Banks with a heart would no longer steal peoples homes, impoverish us and would instead of enrich us.  At 11:11 PM let’s open the vault!”  I left the stage to applause, drained of my last reserves but feeling the energy of the crowd and angels building.

Laura turned to me as I took my seat and said, “Wow.”  Which made me feel a whole lot better.  I was almost myself again.

Laura De Leon blows the spiritual roof off the tent with Philippo Franchini

As the amazing night continued, the vision built.  At Aros’ dolphin mediation I caught a glimpse of lasers cutting the vault. At Jackie Salvitti’s amazing ET healing I saw my higher angel self with a stethoscope trying to break the combo. At Renato Longato’s amazing speech about ETs and their role in 2012 I saw the circular pavilion, where the exhibitors worked flawlessly during the day, become a giant spaceship pumping energy to the DreamShield, where the White Tree of 10.10.10 still stood.

And rather than seeing something, during Laura’s amazing singing with Philippo Francnhini, I felt a spark of something new ignite in my heart.  A spark that is still growing.

Finally, as Laura conducted the 11:11 PM mediation I closed my eyes and instantly saw the angels work reach its climax: The vault turned red-hot and simply vaporized in a shimmering wave.  Laura handed me the mic and asked me to report what I saw to the crowd.

I felt like the stoic Bruce Willis character in THE FIFTH ELEMENT when all I said was…

“The angels melted the vault.”

6 moths of meditations on opening the vault to hearts of Earth’s banks,  some very painful and poignant, but for the final vault this was all there was to it?  I was hoping to see more!

But the crowd cheered and danced for joy in the puddles that seeped under the beautiful tent.  I took a seat, too tired to enjoy the fun and wondering where was the heart of the banks?  I expected the banks to have a heart, my theory, as explained in the video above, that since the corporations have fought to recognized as living beings that this would mean they have a heart was kaput.  And I’ve seen the hearts of Apple and Disney and warmed them in past meditations with angels.  Now here, blessedly, there was only Gia, Mother Earth, free of the banks that had been sucking off her like a vampire.  But no bank heart to be found!

I can only conclude one of two things from the no heart scenario.  One, the heart is hidden somewhere on this world or, two, and very chilling, that banks are truly as heartless as they seem.  I prefer to think the heart of banks are hidden and that my higher self with the aid of the angels will find that heart and warm it.  Ever since 11.11.11 I have been doing just that in meditations.  Still not even a clue.  God knows we need to find that heart!

Back to the 11.11.11 fun and a moment that stunned me.  A couple that were in human form, but of other worldly height and perfection of form came up to me and congratulated me on the meditation with warm hugs.  The male must have been 7 feet tall and the woman a good 6 foot plus.  I asked if I could take a picture, thinking they were ETs, and they said yes.  I turned to get my camera out of my pocket but when I looked up they were gone.

After working until 2 AM to pack up the event and collapsing into bed at the hotel in that exhausted state where visions come easily, I saw to my shock that a beast had been in our midst as the crowd danced!  Our uninvited hairy guest was big and ugly, with the head of a black bull!  I’ve been told by my spirit guides that this Minotaur was an angry Wall Street spirit guarding the 11th vault.  Defeated, it was lost and out of job.

My spirit guide Angus assured my fearful mind that the confused beast was quickly tossed out of the tent by his Galactic enforcer clan, a vision to itself.  I’d not seen any of this in real time as I was too tired.

Was I imagining this beast?  Well, a few days later Laura would email me, without having heard my after vision story of the uninvited guest, that she had clearly heard a beast-like grunt come from near me.

And this after-vision of the Wall Street Minotaur would be just the start.  There was much more to the visions of 11.11.11 to come in the following days and weeks.

LOOKING FORWARD TO 2012

12.12.12 is the last primary date the voice in Italy has told me must be honored to power the DreamShield for the completion of this gentle 2012 mission on 12.21.12.  This will be a 10 day long symposium where all we have learned from 10.10.10 and 11.11.11 and other of the smaller events will be put to work.  We’re going to have this one somewhere warm and dry tropical, Hawaii.  Ha!  Try to make Hawaii’s weather funny, angels!  Oh, wait, volcanoes.  Never tempt angels.  Sorry, guys.

Too early for advanced 12.12.12 tickets, but stay tuned as I work on venue and sponsors, this time giving myself a full year to get this stuff done so I can enjoy myself at my own event!  Meanwhile, however, your love donations at DreamShield.org at the PayPal link on the page help me report work on the angel visions which, hopefully with your help, I will one day gather into a book.

And stay tuned as well for a February the rescheduling of Renato’s DreamShield UFO Sky Watch which was rained out on 11.11.11!

The 11.11.11 Visions – #1 – 11.10.11

“The oneness many in spiritual work have been talking about may be about something else entirely.  Namely, oneness with our multi-universe selves.” — Ken Sheetz

I could write entire blogs about each of these visions but I will be brief and let the vision art I am creating do a lot of the talking.

#1 – 11.10.11

It was long day of prepping for the big 11.11.11 Ascension Convention event.  Exhausted, I stagger to my room at the Grand Vista hotel near Rancho De Las Palma, the event site, tear back the covers and collapse into bed without even the energy to brush my teeth.  I am instantly in that semi-conscious state that often leads to visions.

Soon my spirit leaves my fatigued body and I ascend above the Simi Valley.  But the air is not normal.  Rather it is like a great faceted diamond, pancaked from horizon to horizon.  My higher self tells me that these fractals in the atmosphere are all different universes where I exist in many pieces and places.  One universe, where for example, I am still married, another where I am still an architect, and so on, one universe for every possible choice I’d ever made or the world made for me.

My higher self now says it is time to unite all my divided selves.  So I hold forth my hands and begin to will all my countless selves into this one vessel.  Slowly at first, but with a growing speed that dazzles me, billions of my other selves start to integrate into one ascended self.  As the amazing process continues at exhilarating speeds that are indescribable, the sky fractals become less and less until the sky is one and so am I!

Knowing I am done, my spirit flys back to my meditating body in the Grand Vista hotel and I fall blissfully asleep, excited for the magic that awaits me on 11.11.11.