“Something unknown to our understanding is visiting this Earth.” —Dr. Mitrovan Zverev (USSR), quoted by Reuters, August 26, 1965.
By Ken Sheetz
This will seem odd coming from a man reporting on being guided by ET angels since 2010. ETs who sent me all the way to Antarctica on 12.12.12 and who are sending me there again on 12.13.14, only one year away. I still believe with all my heart and soul in ETs. But I don’t believe in ET based UFOs. I simply don’t believe after deep meditation and looking at all the facts that our planet has ever been visited by ETs from other worlds in corporeal form using spacecraft.
Science backs me up on my long deliberated belief. Despite years of extensive astro-research the world over, no intelligent life has been found on any worlds within a 100 light year radius of our own. I therefore believe the UFOs we do see are secret experimental craft and visitors for other time periods of our future.
But let’s stay on the ET UFO page. No life on any world ever discovered within a 100 light-year radius. That does not make sense as the math will tell you we should be discovering tens of thousands of earth-like worlds with the ingredients for intelligent life and worlds far older than our own with far more advance civilizations.
The answer is sad and scary one. The reason is the worlds that once carried life are, like Mars, now dead worlds. The flame of thousands of intelligent worlds has burned brightly and gone out before humankind had a chance to interact with them in the flesh. Most of those dead worlds died of their own making when they continued on the path to self-annihilation we are embarked upon currently.
This revelation, recorded no where I can find on the web, was given to me by Ohom, who confirmed my suspicion that he is not alive in the classic sense. Ohom of the Orion star system is from a dead race of intelligent insect evolved life. And his world of Nectar is part of Galactic organization called The League of Ghost Worlds.
The League of Ghost Worlds is dedicated to reaching out to young living worlds, like ours, to save races like ours from early extinction. Ohom’s peaceful ice moon once orbited a gas giant 5 times the size of Jupiter. But Nectar perished when the gas giant imploded into a mini star.
Fortunately, and Ohom explains it’s difficult for we of a 3D mentality to understand, his people the Orions exist outside of time in spirit form. They also still exist in physical form on Nectar in its past. Time, Ohom explains, is an illusion and if a species survives long enough to evolve it can, as Ohom’s race has done, achieve immortality in both form and spirit.
Humanity stands at a fork in the road. To the right is the path to our immortality as an enlightened species. To the left is the path to our early extinction at our own hands.
Ohom and The League of Ghost World ETs are here to help humanity take that right path. They have no need of primitive space craft to travel the galaxy and beyond.
The real journey is within. No alien invasions will ever occur. All we have to worry about is ourselves. And we have amazing help from The League of Ghost Worlds against our most deadly enemy… us.
“I’ll chase him round the moons of Nibia and round the Antares maelstrom and round perdition’s flames before I give him up!” (Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan)
By Ken Sheetz
Stardate 11.14.2013 – 3:01 AM I was contacted by a new ET guide named Zylph. It was an introduction. An asking of permission to make a connection. I answered the dream query that I would get back in touch.
The next day my new housemate Mica, a powerful healing intuitive and singer, put aside her unpacking to do a Matrix clearing for me. At the end I recalled the new ET Zylph and mentioned it to Mica. She felt the connection. I told her I was going to get in touch with Ohom and she agreed it was a good idea.
Ohom, the ET I have worked extensively with on DreamShield, who is from the Orion star system, confirmed Zylph was a good being and was here to help me with media, being something of a galactic journalist.
Satisfied with the thumbs up from Ohom I had a nice meditation chat with Zylph. Turns out Zlyph’s been around in my life for a couple of years, appearing to me in his 23rd century human form as Jake Rezinald of Akashic TV.
Zylph explains he is from the Antares star system. I didn’t even know if Antares was real or a memory from my extensive reading of science fiction. I love Wikipedia. Below is what the Wiki Wikis have to say about Antares AKA, The Heart of Scorpio.
Hmm. Mica Monet, the woman I have a hopeless crush on that you’ve been reading about in this blog for 8 months now and who I am exploring sharing a home with as spirit friends, is a powerful Scorpio with Isis energy to spare. So I doubt Zylph coming onto the DreamShield ET scene being from the Antares B of the Antares star system is accidental.
Comparison between the red supergiant Antares and the Sun, shown as the tiny dot toward the upper right. The black circle is the size of the orbit of Mars. Arcturus is also included in the picture for size comparison.
Antares is a supergiant star with a stellar classification of M1.5Iab-b. It has a radius of approximately 883 times that of the Sun; if it were placed in the center of our solar system, its outer surface would lie between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter. Based upon parallax measurements, Antares is approximately 550 light-years (170 parsecs) from the Earth. Its visual luminosity is about 10,000 times that of the Sun, but because the star radiates a considerable part of its energy in the infrared part of the spectrum, the bolometric luminosity equals roughly 65,000 times that of the Sun. The mass of the star has been calculated to be in the range of 15 to 18 solar masses. A recent analysis comparing the effective temperature and luminosity of Antares to theoretical evolutionary tracks for massive stars which include rotation and mass loss yielded a mass of approximately 17 solar masses and age of 12 million years old.
The size of Antares may be calculated using its parallax and angular diameter. The parallax angle is given in the box to the right, and the angular diameter is known from lunar occultation measurements (41.3 ± 0.1 mas). This implies a radius of 755 solar radii at 170pc.
Antares near the Sun on 30 November. This date may vary between 30 Nov and 2 Dec every year
Antares is visible in the sky all night around May 31 of each year, when the star is at opposition to the Sun. At this time, Antares rises at dusk and sets at dawn. For approximately two to three weeks on either side of November 30, Antares is not visible in the night sky, because it is near conjunction with the Sun; this period of invisibility is longer in the Northern Hemisphere than in the Southern Hemisphere, since the star’s declination is significantly south of the celestial equator.
Illustration of Antares and its companion star, Antares B
Antares has a secondary, or companion star, Antares B, that changed from an angular separation (from its primary, Antares A) of 3.3 arcseconds in 1854 to 2.86 arcseconds in 1990. The last is equal to a projected separation of about 529 Astronomical Units (AU) at the estimated distance of Antares, giving a minimum value for the separation of the pair. Spectroscopic examination of the energy states in the outflow of matter from the companion star suggests that it is about 224 AU beyond the primary, giving a combined separation of about 574 AU. The stellar classification of this star is B2.5, with numerous spectral lines suggesting it has been polluted by matter ejected by Antares A. At magnitude 5.5, it is only 1/370th as bright visually as Antares A, although it shines with 170 times the Sun’s luminosity.
The companion star is normally difficult to see in small telescopes due to glare from Antares A, but can sometimes be seen in apertures over 150 mm (5.9 in). The companion is often described as green, but this is probably either a contrast effect or the result of the mixing of light from the two stars when they are seen together through a telescope and are too close to be completely resolved. Antares B can sometimes be observed with a small telescope for a few seconds during lunar occultations while Antares A is hidden by the Moon. It was discovered by Johann Tobias Bürg during one such occultation on April 13, 1819, but until its existence was confirmed in 1846 it was thought by some to be merely the light of Antares viewed through the Moon’s atmosphere (which at the time was theorized to exist). When observed by itself during such an occultation, the companion appears a profound blue or bluish-green color.
The orbit of the companion star is poorly known, with an estimated period of 1,200 – 2,562 years.
Position on the ecliptic
Antares is one of the 4 first magnitude stars that lies within 5° of the ecliptic (like Spica, Regulus and Aldebaran) and therefore can be occulted by the Moon and, though rarely, by Venus. The last occultation of Antares by Venus took place on September 17, 525BC; the next one will take place on November 17, 2400. Other planets did not occult Antares in the last millennium nor will they do so in the next millennium, as they pass as a result of their actual node position and inclination always northward of Antares. On 31 July 2009, Antares was occulted by the Moon. The event was visible in much of southern Asia and the Middle East. Every year around December 2 the Sun passes 5° north of Antares.
Antares, the proper name of this star, derives from the Ancient Greek Άντάρης, meaning “anti-Ares” (“anti-Mars”), due to the similarity of its reddish hue to the appearance of the planet Mars. The comparison of Antares with Mars may have originated with early Mesopotamian astronomers. However, some scholars have speculated that the star may have been named after Antar, or Antarah ibn Shaddad, the Arab warrior-hero celebrated in the Golden Mu’allaqat.
In ancient Mesopotamia, Antares may have been known by the following names: Urbat, Bilu-sha-ziri (“the Lord of the Seed”), Kak-shisa (“the Creator of Prosperity”), Dar Lugal (“The King”), Masu Sar (“the Hero and the King”), and Kakkab Bir (“the Vermilion Star”).
The Wotjobaluk Koori people of Victoria, Australia, knew Antares as Djuit, son of Marpean-kurrk (Arcturus); the stars on each side represented his wives. The Kulin Kooris saw Antares (Balayang) as the brother of Bunjil (Altair).
The Māori people of New Zealand call Antares Rehua, and regard it as the chief of all the stars. Rehua is father of Puanga/Puaka (Rigel), an important star in the calculation of the Māori calendar.
Alternative name of this star, meaning “the Heart of Scorpion”:
In ancient Egypt, Antares represented the scorpion goddess Serket (and was the symbol of Isis in the pyramidal ceremonials).
Antares is listed in MUL.APIN as GABA GIR.TAB, meaning “the Breast of the Scorpion:Lishi, Nabu”.
Calbalakrab from the Arabic Qalb al-Άqrab. This had been directly translated from the Ancient Greek Καρδιά Σκορπιού Kardia Skorpiū.
Cor Scorpii translated above Greek name into Latin.
This morning I had a profound vision in Sedona, on the road to Antarctica, of one of 24 time zone meditations I will conduct on 12.12.12 with your support.
I have little ego about all this. It’s brilliant work I am simply channeling by the spirit guides.
WAR TO PEACE VISION
The vision I saw today was shift of man’s predilection to War to overriding Peace.I stood on the ice of Antarctica on 12.12.12 and raised my hands which tingled with massive energy. Weapons, from hand guns to atomic missiles, smashed from the ice the medicine wheel I had laid out in the snow. The sound of sorrow of the collective human soul became a raging vortex of all the weapons of the earth spinning high about the arctic landscape. A hurricane of death.I saw my tiny human form, my crystal skull glowing through my 60 year-old pale skin, skin, strike the snow with my walking stick, like some modern Gandalf. “SHIFT!” my voice echoed through the crystals of icebergs nearby. A chill, not from the cold, but the magnetism of South Pole, sent a shiver down my spine.
Doves of dazzling white sprung to flight from the snow. — One dove of peace for each weapon of death. The doves began to glow with an intensity greater than the sun. The angelic doves grabbed hold of the weapons with impossibly sharp talons and drew out negative energy from the weapons. Around and around the doves worked their magic until the weapons turned white-hot, molten.The melting weapons and doves forged themselves into single molten blob. The silver blog sank, steaming into the mile thick ice sheet of Antarctica. I peered over the precipice into the deep shaft and beheld a silver spaceship lifting off!
No UFO, this was a human made spaceship. I heard angelic singing as the ship roared past. Humanity’s war energy had shifted from war to peace to reach the stars.
Will this really happen when I reach Antarctica? My spirit guides won’t say. So we’ll only know when I get there.
From the heights of these pyramids, forty centuries look down on us. Napoleon Bonaparte
By Ken Sheetz
A powerful Shaman told me, in 2011, that before 12.21.12 got here I would do a powerful meditation to correct the energetic geometry of the Luxor pyramid to match that of Giza. Now, over a year later, on June 13, 2012, the time had come to fulfill this part of my mission. Hard to believe it has already been two years now of fantastic planetary meditations to many energetic points around the world- with many more to come, so stay tuned to this blog.
Despite being TSA-worn from the short hop flight from LA, I went straight to the Luxor hotel/casino and met my meditation partner for this DreamShield work, Lynda Valliche. I explained to Lynda what we’d be doing over a coffee in the Starbucks tucked away in the vast lobby. The actress , singer, business woman and healer was enthused to begin and so we headed into the sloped elevator and up into the pyramid.
I had booked a private room, 17-106 (any numerology experts out there?), for the meditation because I knew it would be impossible to meditate in the noisy casino/lobby or grounds of the hotel. Lynda and I chatted excitedly as we made our way to the room across the 17th floor balcony, past the endless inverted rows of rooms. I sensed ET beings taking up positions in each of the hotels hundreds of rooms to power the meditation. The air of the giant hotel was totally electric.
While I used my Mac and Google to research the proper dimensions to make the Luxor an energetic twin to Giza, Lynda took apart the cushions of a lounge chair and arranged a comfortable place for us to meditate, near the sloped glass of the curtain wall.
Soon, Lynda and I were deep in meditation. I held forth my hands to the windows, which floated in the sunlit reflection of the mirrored glass, looking quite alien. I told Lynda I sensed the ET angels in each room putting their hands forth with us. But as soon as I set the intent for the angels to create an energetic match to the Giza pyramid, I felt a resistance to the energetic expansion. After struggling a bit longer with the expansion I described the unexpected resistant energy to Lynda.
A moment later, Lynda’s guides sent her a message. She explained she was being told that the mission had changed, that she and I were now to join the Luxor to a secret pyramid somewhere else in the world. She asked me how I felt about this.
I said it rang true because the eagle pattern that appeared mystically in my hair pattern when I first saw the angels create the DreamShield in Italy in 2012, had begun to tingle. I turned my energetic of the eagle loose and it blazed out the Luxor hotel windows and was quickly in high orbit, scanning the earth at impossible speed. Soon, buried beneath a mountain in China, my mystical eagle located Lynda’s guide’s hidden pyramid. Looking through the eagle’s eyes I gazed upon a giant China pyramid as it glowed with a white energy like the Luxor’s. A shudder ran through me as the Luxor pyramid began adding thousands of levels to its ever-expanding base. Deep into the earth the Luxor rapidly grew, while the pyramid in China did the same. Heading for a collision at the earth’s magnetic iron core.
Soon the two pyramids joined, not in a collision, but gently intertwining at the spinning earth’s core. I felt pure electricity blast through me, but I was unafraid knowing Lynda and I were both well protected by the host of ET angels in the Luxor’s every room and on every new level added to the pyramid. I saw an eagle-eye vision of a new giant diamond that spanned the earth between the opposing pyramids.
The planet size diamond now began to turn and blast out a powerful wave of energy that swept across the entire universe. I marveled at the sight of alien races on many worlds welcoming this wave of new energy. I was delighted seeing our work wash over countless worlds. I was everywhere at once. One with the cosmos, realizing the shift of 2012 is universal and earth’s role far more than we realize in our human form.
The dazzling visions faded and I lowered my trembling hands. After sharing what we each saw and felt, Lydna expressed her dislike for the term “angels”. I explained it was the best term I could use given how similar the ETs that work with me look to angels, except they are 7 to 10 feet tall, blue and have spiked wings that glitter. One can imagine that primitive man would think these ETs angels Gods. The explanation seemed to satisfy her a bit and we laughed it off, hugged good-bye and she hurried off for some fun with family and friends in good old 3D Vegas.
Alone in the room, the sun setting over Vegas, I walked to the sloped glass wall of the pyramid and touched it. My happy face hung suspended in a reflection. I chuckled because I had seen my face like this in a dream the previous week and now here it was. Confirmation. You see, I still have some lingering doubts from time to time about all this vision stuff. The ETs give me these signs, like the eagle on branded on my head, to remind me this all real on another dimension of reality that affects ours. I smiled at my alien-like reflection, amazed how these DreamShield meditations never turn out how I, or in this case a shaman in 2011, might have preconceived them.
And for these surprises in the planetary meditation work I am grateful. The unpredictable nature of what we do keeps us safe from the dark forces who underestimate the power of the work. I love how the element of surprise keeps all this so much fun for me and my mediation teams, from 2 and up in size, that been blessed to be a small, but vital, part of the shift to a gentle 2012.
Before she left the Luxor, Lynda made sure to tell me her guides say that outcome of the Shift is not yet certain. I agreed because this is a free will world and the future has many possible outcomes. But assured her that if we do the work my guides tell me humanity will not fail. Change will come. And it won’t be overnight change like some happy movie ending. It might even seem hopeless at times. But over 50 years, change will come and our world will be saved from our species’ self-destruction. This has been a protected world since May of 2010. The game is over and who knows if the process might accelerate? But it certainly won’t be longer than 50 years, the speed at which a planetary transformation manifests currently.
In one epic dream after the Luxor meditation, I stood in a large group in ceremony at Great Spirits Ranch, where I am based in 2012 and blessed with amazing support. And I saw an old friend get possessed by an alien presence. My old pal’s face filled with black veins and then he assured me in a strained voice, “Everything will be fine. Don’t give up.” Talk about keeping me on target!
Come hear me speak about DreamShield’s exciting plans for a North Pole meditation at our Skywatch event on July 14th in Malibu at the ranch. The event features famed UFO expert Renato Longato with music by Kalix Sky and fire dancing by Mila XStarzx. Sign up on Facebook to reserve your spot for only $33.
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.
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.
MISSION TO MARS, 12.20.11
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.
“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.
Most of the shadows or this life are caused by our standing in our own sunshine. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
By Ken Sheetz
11.11.11 was here at last. The date that I’d been getting messages to hold a DreamShield event on since 5.5.10, when I saw the 7 foot tall blue angels build a force field around earth that was capable of harnessing the mass consciousness of humanity to protect this world and help manifest a gentle 2012. Looking at the sentence I just wrote, I still have a hard time believing the 30 some events attended by so many now and recorded on YouTube in over 200 videos from around the world in just 18 months has really happened.
Really, I don’t proclaim to believe to know what’s behind any of my visions, could be anything from a tumor to the real thing, angels from outer space, and here was all this happening and much more to come. And happening to a man not used to the public spotlight. A filmmaker who prefers to stay behind the camera rather than in front.
Unfortunately, come 11.11.11 I had been so busy helping put this event together, from securing our location event sponsor EARTH SHIFT PRODUCTS, also our 10.10.10 sponsor and to whom we are eternally grateful, to using my old architectural skills of making floor plans to marketing, via my social media company BuzzBroz, to arranging video production gear for the day, planning interviews with exhibitors and much more, that I’d not given much thought to my part in the ceremonies Laura De León had planned so impeccably for the day, but, out of love and respect, had left me the space to plan by myself. And I’d planned nothing.
What the heck would I do on stage, in front of all these people who had paid to be here, if I saw no angels? Sing karaoke? Do a card trick? I’d actually had one in my pocket I was not very good at. It felt like one of those college exam dreams where you lost your speech and had to go on before the class, naked.
Fortunately, Laura had plenty more wonders for the people to experience that day than me if I bombed. As Laura’s day of amazing workshops on ascension minded topics drew to a close I took to the stage and looked at the enthused crowd. A crowd that would have been larger but for the rains that were now starting to patter on the beautiful big tent that I thanked the angels was here for us. I’d been angry with the angels all week during the lousy weather forecasts. It hardly ever rains in California. Why rain and cool weather on this magical day of 11.11.11?
A voice kept assuring me, ” All is as it should be, Ken. These fine group of people who braved the weather are just what this meditation to unlock the 11th vault needs.”
“Easy for the angels to say,” I raged inwardly at the voice within me. “ETs and angels have no need for money. This rain means I just worked 15 hour days for three months without a day off without a pay day. Angels are lousy bosses.”
Very small of me, I know, chewing out angels. They don’t call me the Larry David of the spirit world for nothing! All my spiritual growth of the past 18 months was out the window. So when Laura asked if I could speed things up on my meditation as the night was already behind schedule, well, this did not help my disposition. Ironically, the theme of the night was Laura’s brilliant idea of humanity ascending from ego consciousness to living from the heart, and here I was having a ego trip about being rushed at my own event.
Yes, my angels love comedy. It’s a galactic reality show I feel at times with all of us as human cameras, cameras that also have every human sense recorded for the galactic audience to relish in. Kinda like THE MATRIX meets THE TRUMAN SHOW. At times, frankly it pisses me off to be laughed at so much. But ETs, as Jackie Salvitti of ETHEALING.COM, one of our night’s featured speakers, says, “ETs have a great sense of humor.”
It explains much. How boring watching us would be if our weather were perfect. Yeah, angels are stinkers that throw challenges at us that would make any reality show producer blush. You heard it here first.
But all my doubts and ego subsided as I looked over the beautiful crowd of eager happy faces in the tent. Honestly, Ive done a lot of public speaking in business and attended many events, but in all my 30 years of that corporate junk I’ve never seen a crowd as open as receptive and beautiful as the one gathered under the tent at Rancho De Las Palmas. The stinker angels were right. This was the perfect crowd to meditate on opeing the hearts of banks.
Then suddenly, as the crowd’s passion picked me up off my grouchy butt, dozens blue angels materialized, filling every the empty white seat scattered in the crowd. As I reported this news of ET angels joining the 11th Vault meditation, a thrill went through the gathering.
Now, I began to see earth from space and the golden vault door that was hiding the heart of earth’s banks. This earth-size safe cracking was a mammoth job I told the meditating crowd. Honestly, folks. Whatever it is we are we are far more powerful than we know. I could feel the energy of the crowd willing the vault to open. The crowd’s energy filled my exhausted body with vitality and I knew in that moment what has kept old performers like the Stones young and alive.
Next, I saw millions of angels pulling at the golden door. I shouted joyously the meditating crowd, “Imagine if we can open the vault and warm the heart of the banks! Banks with a heart would no longer fund wars, fund polluters! Banks with a heart would no longer steal peoples homes, impoverish us and would instead of enrich us. At 11:11 PM let’s open the vault!” I left the stage to applause, drained of my last reserves but feeling the energy of the crowd and angels building.
Laura turned to me as I took my seat and said, “Wow.” Which made me feel a whole lot better. I was almost myself again.
As the amazing night continued, the vision built. At Aros’ dolphin mediation I caught a glimpse of lasers cutting the vault. At Jackie Salvitti’s amazing ET healing I saw my higher angel self with a stethoscope trying to break the combo. At Renato Longato’s amazing speech about ETs and their role in 2012 I saw the circular pavilion, where the exhibitors worked flawlessly during the day, become a giant spaceship pumping energy to the DreamShield, where the White Tree of 10.10.10 still stood.
And rather than seeing something, during Laura’s amazing singing with Philippo Francnhini, I felt a spark of something new ignite in my heart. A spark that is still growing.
Finally, as Laura conducted the 11:11 PM mediation I closed my eyes and instantly saw the angels work reach its climax: The vault turned red-hot and simply vaporized in a shimmering wave. Laura handed me the mic and asked me to report what I saw to the crowd.
I felt like the stoic Bruce Willis character in THE FIFTH ELEMENT when all I said was…
“The angels melted the vault.”
6 moths of meditations on opening the vault to hearts of Earth’s banks, some very painful and poignant, but for the final vault this was all there was to it? I was hoping to see more!
But the crowd cheered and danced for joy in the puddles that seeped under the beautiful tent. I took a seat, too tired to enjoy the fun and wondering where was the heart of the banks? I expected the banks to have a heart, my theory, as explained in the video above, that since the corporations have fought to recognized as living beings that this would mean they have a heart was kaput. And I’ve seen the hearts of Apple and Disney and warmed them in past meditations with angels. Now here, blessedly, there was only Gia, Mother Earth, free of the banks that had been sucking off her like a vampire. But no bank heart to be found!
I can only conclude one of two things from the no heart scenario. One, the heart is hidden somewhere on this world or, two, and very chilling, that banks are truly as heartless as they seem. I prefer to think the heart of banks are hidden and that my higher self with the aid of the angels will find that heart and warm it. Ever since 11.11.11 I have been doing just that in meditations. Still not even a clue. God knows we need to find that heart!
Back to the 11.11.11 fun and a moment that stunned me. A couple that were in human form, but of other worldly height and perfection of form came up to me and congratulated me on the meditation with warm hugs. The male must have been 7 feet tall and the woman a good 6 foot plus. I asked if I could take a picture, thinking they were ETs, and they said yes. I turned to get my camera out of my pocket but when I looked up they were gone.
After working until 2 AM to pack up the event and collapsing into bed at the hotel in that exhausted state where visions come easily, I saw to my shock that a beast had been in our midst as the crowd danced! Our uninvited hairy guest was big and ugly, with the head of a black bull! I’ve been told by my spirit guides that this Minotaur was an angry Wall Street spirit guarding the 11th vault. Defeated, it was lost and out of job.
My spirit guide Angus assured my fearful mind that the confused beast was quickly tossed out of the tent by his Galactic enforcer clan, a vision to itself. I’d not seen any of this in real time as I was too tired.
Was I imagining this beast? Well, a few days later Laura would email me, without having heard my after vision story of the uninvited guest, that she had clearly heard a beast-like grunt come from near me.
And this after-vision of the Wall Street Minotaur would be just the start. There was much more to the visions of 11.11.11 to come in the following days and weeks.
LOOKING FORWARD TO 2012
12.12.12 is the last primary date the voice in Italy has told me must be honored to power the DreamShield for the completion of this gentle 2012 mission on 12.21.12. This will be a 10 day long symposium where all we have learned from 10.10.10 and 11.11.11 and other of the smaller events will be put to work. We’re going to have this one somewhere warm and dry tropical, Hawaii. Ha! Try to make Hawaii’s weather funny, angels! Oh, wait, volcanoes. Never tempt angels. Sorry, guys.
Too early for advanced 12.12.12 tickets, but stay tuned as I work on venue and sponsors, this time giving myself a full year to get this stuff done so I can enjoy myself at my own event! Meanwhile, however, your love donations at DreamShield.org at the PayPal link on the page help me report work on the angel visions which, hopefully with your help, I will one day gather into a book.
And stay tuned as well for a February the rescheduling of Renato’s DreamShield UFO Sky Watch which was rained out on 11.11.11!
“The oneness many in spiritual work have been talking about may be about something else entirely. Namely, oneness with our multi-universe selves.” — Ken Sheetz
I could write entire blogs about each of these visions but I will be brief and let the vision art I am creating do a lot of the talking.
#1 – 11.10.11
It was long day of prepping for the big 11.11.11 Ascension Convention event. Exhausted, I stagger to my room at the Grand Vista hotel near Rancho De Las Palma, the event site, tear back the covers and collapse into bed without even the energy to brush my teeth. I am instantly in that semi-conscious state that often leads to visions.
Soon my spirit leaves my fatigued body and I ascend above the Simi Valley. But the air is not normal. Rather it is like a great faceted diamond, pancaked from horizon to horizon. My higher self tells me that these fractals in the atmosphere are all different universes where I exist in many pieces and places. One universe, where for example, I am still married, another where I am still an architect, and so on, one universe for every possible choice I’d ever made or the world made for me.
My higher self now says it is time to unite all my divided selves. So I hold forth my hands and begin to will all my countless selves into this one vessel. Slowly at first, but with a growing speed that dazzles me, billions of my other selves start to integrate into one ascended self. As the amazing process continues at exhilarating speeds that are indescribable, the sky fractals become less and less until the sky is one and so am I!
Knowing I am done, my spirit flys back to my meditating body in the Grand Vista hotel and I fall blissfully asleep, excited for the magic that awaits me on 11.11.11.
“I may see angels but I am far from being one.” – Ken Sheetz
Two weeks ago, on the magical binary date of 11.11.11, I co-hosted a beautiful event about the ascension with a star-studded evening of speculation about ETs role in the Shift I’d been guided to create by a God-like voice 18 months ago in Italy. The masterful ceremonies and workshops had been created to perfection by the amazing multi-talented co-host Laura De León of MyMysticMuse. Just one problem. I was not very “present”, to put it mildly, for my own event.
I’ve been pondering for the entire time since, wishing I could have enjoyed something so beautiful that I’d help create, all stemming from an angelic vision I had in Italy for a gentle 2012. The 11.11.11 event is possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever been a part of bringing into this world. So why had I been so hard on myself and hard for Laura and others on the team to be around me that day and the weeks leading up to the big day? Why was Laura’s singing her amazing Babaji song with Philippo Franchini one of the few moments I truly enjoyed on 11.11.11? Exhaustion? No. This was more than simple exhaustion. The excuse I tried to hide behind post 11.11.11.
I took a break from pondering my failure to enjoy 11.11.11 to ponder the parallels of family dynamics in why I’d not enjoyed Thanksgiving this year. I was traveling from my Vegas Thanksgiving, back home, the way I’d been doing in these tough times for two years now, by a Greyhound Bus. The Friday 10 AM bus back to LA was 5 minutes late without any Greyhound announcements so I calmly asked one of the bus terminal attendants, “What’s the delay?”
The Greyhound attendant smirked at me and said in a thick Asian accent, “Buddy, you better learn something. This is Greyhound! Bus gets here when bus gets here!”
The people in line laughed at my expecting decent service for what is not that much less than a Southwest Airline fare.
A sweet little Black lady, with a white fur hat that made her look like a stylized rabbit out of Alice in Wonderland, turned to me from ahead in line and said, “Public transportation, mister. Gotta expect this kinda thing.”
I reminded her, like it was my duty as a remnant from a long gone, more caring America, “Greyhound’s not public, except for treating customers like a public toilet.”
Rather than laughter as I expected, people in line reacted in silence as though I was rocking the boat. “What boat? It’s a bus, you bunch of sheep!” I raged inwardly as I dug into my knapsack, grabbed the Thanksgiving leftovers Mom had made for the bus ride back to LA, the land of dreams, and thought back on my Vegas 2011 Thanksgiving, having a picnic in the terminal.
The trip got off to a rocky start in this very bus station on the way in to Vegas on Wednesday. My stepfather Nick, a fiery tempered Sicilian who holds grudges like a character who stepped right out of Mario Puzo novel (first suspect, please, if I am ever murdered) kept me waiting at the Greyhound terminal for half an hour.
A half an hour where I’d learn the Vegas Greyhound terminal front door is a den of prostitution. Unable to see through the dark tinted terminal front doors I was forced to stand with my backpack full of Mac gear, stranded, like a Thanksgiving turkey ready to be plucked by pimps and thugs who kept giving me the hairy eyeball.
Finally, after what seemed hours, Nick and my Mom’s car arrived. I quickly tossed my bags and myself into the backseat. No apologies for running late from Nick, of course. The crabby 83 year-old-man sat stoic and uncaring at the wheel. — Not unexpected. Nick’s not spoken to me much in three years since I read him the riot act over his outlandish claim I was trying to kill my mother by adjusting the condo temp by one degree downwards.
Most I’d hear from Nick on the entire visit was his yelling at my 82-year-old mother to “Shut the hell up!” when she screamed after he almost rear-ended a car. A retired as a prison guard, Nick’s belligerent treatment of my Mom, like a prisoner he was keeping in check, gave me heartburn. I had a coughing fit.
Mom asked if I was sick and I told her, “Nick yelling at you is the only thing making me sick. Well, that and being let stranded for half an hour as I watched other arriving passengers all picked up within the first five minutes.” Getting pissed at me snapped Nick out of his tirade at Mom and back to silence. Old training as kid from how I’d take the heat for Mom to save her from my real dad, who passed early this year.
Now, I managed a tense front seat to backseat chat where I filled Mom in on a few things in my life. We’ve never talked about the angels and ETs working for the cause of the Shift I see in meditations. And didn’t now. I guess I’d think she’d feel I’ve gone off my rocker. Why worry her? She has no concept of what a blog is or how to work a computer and has seen nothing of my writing.
Soon we arrived at the small one bedroom condo Mom has carved into a pretty home. She said to me timidly, not her style, “Hungry, Ken? We already ate, not knowing when you’d really get here on the bus.”
I played along, even though it was only 5:30 PM, and ate alone at the kitchen counter while Mom filled in my brother Fred, who had manned the condo during my pickup from Greyhound. Which was odd. Fred usually came to greet me. “Ken’s goin’ to Mexico for a film shoot next month, Fred,” Mom chirped.
Fred puffed on cigarette and grunted, “Beats gardening I bet, eh, Ken?”
Fred knew from our weekly phone talks, we both cling to like a family life raft, that I’d made a deal for social media barter where I was living at a spirit resort called BushWillows north of LA. Because they had gone into suspended animation on the resort for reasons unknown, the owners instead wanted gardening help instead of web work.
Now here was my brother, making fun of my doing manual labor to keep a roof over my head in the worst recession ever. How it stung me to the soul. What happened to my sweet “over the phone” brother I wondered looking at the grouchy Fred? Yep, a voice answered, four days with Nick contaminated his aura. He be back to normal when he returned to Wisconsin.
Mom sensed the tension with Fred and chimed in, “I bet you’re learning lotsa gardening stuff. Right, Ken?”
“Yep.” I answered meaning it, biting into Mom’s steak that was like rubber.
“After Mexico Ken’s filming in Hawaii first two months of the year, Fred.”
I could see Fred was puzzled so much good fortune had popped up since we spoke only a few days earlier. Now that the 11.11.11 event of 15 hours days of work for 3 solid months without pay was over and I could refocus my energy. I was beginning to feel some of the old fire that made me a millionaire in the past. Fred didn’t like me much when I was millionaire who’s most famous project was building Oprah’s Harpo Studios, and rightly so. I was a dick when I was rich. Not next time, if there is one, will it be so!
“Lousy economy might finally be lifting.” I muttered into my meal.
Soon as I finished my solo dinner and complimented Mom, despite how god awful the steak was, Nick put on his coat. Mom and Fred quickly followed his lead. “I just got here. Where’s everyone going?” I groused.
“Casino, ” Fred grinned as I steamed, “Relax. Mom and Nick did the same thing to me when I got here: Quick meal then off to the slots!”
So without even a chance to rest or a catch-up on life, besides the brief car talk with Mom from the backseat, I was soon in Nick’s car again and heading for the Orleans, a locals casino my mother and Nick frequent often for the loose Keno slots. Nick complained to my Mom as he cruised the Orleans multi-leveled lot for a parking spot, “Handicapped spots all gone getting here so late.”
I let the dig pass, as I let so much pass with Nick. For a comedy writer when I am not helping angels manifest a gentle 2012, this man is a gold mine for material. We parked not very far from the door despite my “late” arrival. I climbed from the backseat of the car, dreading the casino, already sorry I’d come. I limped for the casino, having slightly pulled both hamstrings hauling wheelbarrows full of compost early in the week at the gardens.
Sure enough, soon I found myself in the smokey noisy as hell confines of the Orleans casino, surrounded by drunken gamblers and haggard locals.
Fred plopped himself on a Keno machine beside Mom and lit up. Mom’s 82 but going strong and she was ready for action, silent Nick her bodyguard. It was almost as though I ceased to exist. I tried to make conversation, but the casino noise that keeps people hypnotized with noisy beeps and bloops and smoke won. So I excused myself and limped my way to my old Vegas escape pod, the movies.
We all agreed, Nick in silence of course, to meet back at the Keno spot midnight when the gambling ordeal had hopefully reached an end. I say “hopefully” because there have been nights when Mom or Fred or Nick get on a winning streak where they all stay out to 3 or 4 AM and I’d end up taking a taxi back to condo myself.
I saw two movies back to back to kill time and lose myself. ARTHUR’S CHRISTMAS, an instant classic 4 stars out of 5 and HAPPY FEET TWO, a doh doh bird of a penguin flick, 1 star. But I fell asleep so don’t take my word on the penguins if you enjoy hearing Robin Williams do a bad Spanish accent.
Midnight, when I got back to the Keno machines Mom and Fred were fighting about, of all things, meatballs sandwiches. I was relieved. The meatball fight meant they’d lost at Keno and so we’d be going home at a decent hour. Fred was craving a Subway meatball treat and would not be swayed. Mom who had won a little that week offered him $5 from her pot.
Fred sniped, “I have a paying job,” he said looking at me, who has not had a paying job since college, but who usually does very well despite that fact in a normal economy, “I pay for my own meatballs. And when I win I buy for everybody.”
On the way to the car, while Fred got his beloved meatball sandwich, Mom worried to me, “Fred’s been in a bad mood all week.” I took a look a Nick and thought, “Who wouldn’t be with that sourpuss around?” feeling compassion for my beloved brother and more for Mom who was living with this grumpy diabetic every day.
But then, surprisingly, my heart began to open for my fellow grouch Nick. At Souldrama in Italy I learned it’s what bothers you most in others that you are bothered most about in yourself. I saw the grouch I was around the loving dream team that had come together from 11.11.11. And here was Nick, in the bosom of a family that loved him, driving wedges between us all and himself. I saw the little boy Nick was who lived as an orphan on the streets of Milwaukee. No one to love him. And then I saw myself as an abused child who never knew what a happy family life was, wrecking the happiness all around me because I did not know how to handle joy on 11.11.11. And I finally forgave Nick for his junk and me for mine.
I was so deep in thought about my brother grouch Nick that I barely remember getting back to Nick and Mom’s condo after the casino. Fred ate his meatballs making a big deal of it to tease Mom, Nick pulled out the sleeper sofa. Mom and I made up my bed which I quickly collapsed into.
Despite the rough first day in Vegas I was still looking forward to tomorrow. I’d come to Vegas almost every year for 25 years for mom’s Thanksgiving cooking. She makes a great bird. Mom announced to Fred and me as the lights went out, “Night, boys. I’ll getting up to start the turkey cooking at 8AM.”
The night passed with fits of sleep as Fred snored loud enough to wake me. As I tried about 3 Am to get back to sleep I had a vision that was fresh and pure as I saw all the many sacred sites I’d mediated at since 10/10/10 ignite with bright white sparks across the globe, Vegas included where I saw the Luxor casino erupt, spewing energy to the DreamShield surrounding the planet. I saw it matched by energy flares from the real pyramids.
The dazzling clean and pure vision surprised me to full consciousness. “Why was a grump like me allowed to see such angelic glory?” I thought weeping into my pillow. I’d thought, or perhaps even hoped, that since DreamShield’s missions were on prime binary dates, that somehow after 11.11.11 my vision powers might end and life could return to normal. Whatever normal is in these crazy times with innocent people getting beaten down in the Occupy movements. I’d not talk about the visions with anyone next morning on Thanksgiving.
At 8AM as promised, Mom emerged from her bedroom, trusty flashlight in hand because the drapes were all closed. I peeked open an eye to watch her tip toe past as she swung the bright LED flashlight when suddenly she tumbled to the floor!
I bolted from the sleeper sofa and helped her up. Mom pointed the flashlight down at a cushion. “Twisted my back. How the hell did that get down there in my way?”
We both looked over at snoring Fred, who must have peed ten times during the night and knocked over the cushion at some point.
Mom softly giggled and squeezed my hand saying, “Go back to sleep, Ken. I’m OK, ” and she, putting the cushion out the way, went about starting the bird cooking.
Thanksgiving was here at last. The trusty old folding card table of 25 years of Vegas Thanksgivings came out as the Packer’s trounced Detroit on the old tube style TV. Soon the moment I’d suffered an 8 hour Greyhound trip and put up with the casino was here. The bird was perfection. Mom’s stuffing was great. All was heaven at last except for one thing that was missing: Mom. She was still in the kitchen cleaning up and missing the whole meal.
Then Fred did something that rattled my ego. As Nick came to the table Fred slid the chair for him. He even adjusted Nick’s gravy bowl to give more table space for Nick. And all my spirituality from the night before vanished. I was angry at Fred’s deference to this guy who made my visits to my mother such a hell.
Then Nick and Fred just dug in and started chowing down without waiting for Mom.
“Mom, I came all the way here to see you and have turkey,” I shouted to mom, cleaning up the kitchen like a mad woman.
“Yeah, come and eat, Mom, ” Fred chimed in, mouth full of turkey.
One possible answer to this mystery would come this morning as Deb, the BushWillows owner where I am staying observed about Mom’s odd behavior in her crisp South African accent as I dumped off a fresh load of compost, “Might be your Mum was cleaning up so she could get out of the house right after the turkey and resume gambling.”
Had my mother’s passion for gambling, some would say addiction, now eclipsed her time for dinner? Who knows? When she finally sat down when were all nearly done with her feast I tried to grab a picture of her only to be shouted at, “Don’t take my picture with my mouth full!”
My brother chimed in, “He did the same shit to me.”
I spun to Fred, camera in hand, “Shit? You call me taking your picture shit?!”
Mom sighed, “Boys, it’s Thanksgiving. No fighting.”
But I was furious and had to leave the table. I’d wanted to share my adventures surviving in Hollywood over the past year, my adventures in social media, my spirit project. And here I was fighting at the dinner table with my 58-year-old brother like we were kids while Nick shot my Mother a, “See?” look of satisfaction.
Later, I apologized to Fred and hugged him about the shoulders. He shared he’d been not having a good time this trip. Mom and he had been fighting the whole time for reasons he really could not put into words.
Soon as the second NFL game ended it was off to the Orleans casino again and the family disconnect. I saw two more movies, HUGO, one star for having a boring plot and bad child acting, and THE MUPPETS, of which I give zero stars and could barely keep my turkey down through.
Friday morning the alarm had been set for 8AM to get me to the station by 10AM but once Nick started to dress he did not slow down and I found myself on the way to the horrible station far too early. Mom tired to sit in the back seat with me but Nick would have non of that. He barked at my mother like she was a convict to be disciplined, “Get in front with me so you don’t have to jump out at the bus station!”
I patted Mom on the shoulder from the backseat as Nick sped for the station and she held my hand. Arriving 15 feet from the curb Nick parked in the middle of traffic. I came to the window and kissed Mom good-bye. She grabbed my hand as Nick raced the car off, until Mom’s soft fingers pulled away from mine.
As I finally shuffled my way onto the hour late bus I was an hour early for, the Asian Greyhound attendant who gave me such a hard to for my simple question about when the bus was coming kidded to the bus ticket taker. “Don’t let this guy aboard. Troublemaker. Probably drunk.”
I smiled sadly in agreement, I’d beem drunk on family rage and rage with myself for not ascending as Laura De Leon had so brilliantly realized was the mission of 11.11.11. I was stuck in my ego and not operating from heart.
But as I have written to Laura, when she sang like an angel on 11.11.11, something did shift in me. A small spark deep in my heart. The fact I can even write so clearly of my painful thanksgiving and feel compassion for Mom, for Fred, for me, even for Nick and his little inner boy from the Great Depression, gives me hope Laura’s spark is growing and that I am ascending and so is the world.
Long as the visions keep coming I promise do my humble best continue to report the angels work to you. I don’t profess to understand what they are doing or if I am really seeing them or if it’s all some amazing lucid dream I’ve been having for 18 months solid or it’s something they are putting in the drinking water these days. If you like my reporting please go to DREAMSHIELD.ORG to help me help with the work of manifesting a gentle 2012. Thanks, Ken Sheetz.
Now enjoy some Nelson Riddle about Route 66 which I traveled on for this Thanksgiving saga.