“Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” – Mathew 19:24
By Ken Sheetz
The rich 1% are victims of the system like the rest of us. I know this from being a rich man in the 80s myself. At age 37 I was worth about $12 million back in 1989. Or about $30 million in 2012 dollars. So I was on that lower end scale of the 1%. A poor rich man.
The level of work and dedication needed to build and maintain wealth is staggering. It left me with no personal life, a neglected wife and two neglected kids. My clients like Oprah and my Chicago skyscraper I was building had far more of my love and attention. That’s where the money was. My family was far down my list.
What was driving me? Lack of self-worth. I felt the more money I made the more I could fill the void. A void created by our society. A shared lie.
Is there some cabal of evil people creating this shared lie? No. Just some overachievers trying to make their meaningless life of the pursuit of money have meaning, like I used to do.
Me far right in 1991 with Oprah
I did not choose to leave Mt. Olympus to seek these answers. The worst commercial real estate crash in history gave me the boot from money paradise. I lost over $80 million for me and my investors. To protect the family assets from the bankers we, legally and totally above-board, put everything we could into my wife’s name. Then she divorced me and kept it all. I left the marriage with the clothes on my back and a paperweight globe of the world I took from the living room curio.
I went into a dark depression that carried me to the shores of Lake Michigan, contemplating suicide one winter night in ’92. Alone and only getting to see my estranged kids, 10 and 13, who remain estranged some 20 years later, just every other weekend. I felt no one would miss me if I stepped off the snowy rock into the icy lake. I braced myself for the jump to my death.
But something stopped me. A voice of reason within said, “Let your old life die here, Ken. Begin a new life.” And I turned from the icy shore, got in my car and began my life over.
I still had my rep as Chicago’s 1987 broker of the year and the builder of Harpo Studios. I still had my wealthy business friends who owned half of Chicago. I still had all my creative gifts of great taste and style from my education as an interior architect. I still had my 40-year-old body, though in bad shape from lack of exercise I could rebuild that body.
Unfortunately I still had a low self-esteem from abused childhood. It still haunts me and thwarts my efforts to have a mate. I lack an ability to trust and a overreact to simple give and take in relationship. Far less than I used to but I accept some part of me asked to be this way for my work. A
I pledge to make this an amazing year for fans of my work. I have found myself and love me for who I am. Took me to 61 to get here. I live my BFA now. I live as an artist of film and the web. It’s not been easy getting here. I have had a lot of help from family and friends who bankrolled my film career that began at 40 when I walked away from the easy money of real estate.
It’s all converging now in my new home in Sedona I am renting. I have an amazing housemate I adore but the feeling is not mutual. But we are using this non-romantic relationship to grow further. I am learning to be less controlling, less angry, less manipulative and she is learning from me wealth attraction and managed anger. We call this home nestled at the foot of Chimney Rock the Green Sanctuary. At least this is how I see things. My housemate likely sees things as totally different. Perhaps that I am something of a jerk.
Me Right 2014 with Scientist Patrick Flanagan
Most important in Sedona, my silly personal life aside, there’s much work to be done in 2014 helping great men like G Patrick Flanagan get his inventions that have helped me reach this new level of awareness and health and reverse aging.
I’ve even begun thinking when I am 37 again, the age I love me most at, of marrying and having kids and doing it all right this time. Family first. I will not be a slave to the lies of meaningless wealth accumulation. Not to say I will not become more wealthy than ever. But I will keep only what I need and enjoy and give back to help balance and save this precious world. And if not in this life, I am ready for the next.
So forget the conspiracy theories about the nine families seeking to poison and wreck the same world they share with the rest of us. Greed is the enemy, not the rich being manipulated by it. We need to rise above it all. To seek together all of rich and poor alike a new paradigm based on love for each other. It’s really about taking action and not just thinking it will happen. It’s about thinking and doing.
And what I am doing for Dr. Flanagan right now is building a crowd funder to make this a smarter world with his amazing Neurophone. Click the link to join the pre-launch and learn how he is making the world a smarter place.
“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.
DreamShield‘s Ken Sheetz is in Sedona filming Dr. Patrick Flanagan, founder of PhiSciences, to whom this meditation is dedicated,for a new documentary after the success of the web series THE FLANAGAN EXPERIMENTS, with over 25 million views on YouTube for BuzzBroz.
When a man is tired of life on his 21st birthday it indicates that he is rather tired of something in himself. — F Scott Fitzgerald
By Ken Sheetz
Right now you might be walking on eggshells so as not to upset the woman or man in your life. Stop! It won’t work. No matter how much of a dancer or gymnast you are, there’s simply too many eggshells from eons of abuse the genders have all suffered upon each other.
Time to pass on a gift to you, dear reader. Please accept this gift of…
Eggshell Transforming Boots of the ETs
Go ahead. Take these amazing ET boots which were first gifted to me and work, now cloned for you in this blog. Try them on. One size fits all.
Got ’em on? Comfy and soothing aren’t they? Like nothing you’ve ever worn. You relax deeper than you ever have in your life before. Your feet and your heart thank you.
OK, now think back on your childhood, painful as that is for most of us. No worries. The boots will keep you safe in the memories and visualization. You gradually transform into your innocent inner child.
Your memories of your past form a grey valley, without color or judgement. At the base of that valley are billions of glistening eggshells. Sleeping in a dank and damp cave above, is your parent who traumatized you in some way. You realize in fear that your parent is a sleeping giant! A menacing spiked club sits at the side of their bed of dirty straw.
A red ruby’s gleam beckons across the valley of eggshells. Your little inner child wants that ruby badly. Your inner child knows somehow that if you could just have the magic ruby then your mother or father will never use that nasty painful club on you again.
So off little you ventures to cross the valley of eggshells, trying not to step on an eggshell that would awaken the sleeping giant parent. You’re a brilliant perfect child, tip toeing gracefully between the eggshells… at first. But now the gaps between eggshells becomes trickier and trickier for your dance of the eggshells until….
CRACK! The giant parent above your head wakes with an angry roar. Little you cringes as the club comes racing for your head and…
Enough of that! Suddenly, you remember that for this time crossing the valley of eggshells you have new tools; your new new Eggshell Transforming Boots of the ETs!
Yes, these new heavenly boots phase in and out of reality carrying you safely to the magic ruby. Now you simply stride across the field of eggshells of old parental rage with true ease and playful grace. Not a single shell cracks beneath you ET boots. You confidently and silently reach the coveted red ruby perched on a golden Greek pedestal and take it to your lips for a kiss of victory.
The big ruby clutched in your little hand, your amazing new boots race you up the narrow path to the cave of your sleeping giant parent. Their snore is deafening. But you place the ruby on the giant’s pillow.
Now, the giant parent shrinks down to your peacefully sleeping parent, in the happiest most loving moment you remember them. They keep shrinking to about the size of a puppy. Little you kisses your little loving parent on the forehead. The angry giant is gone forever and you take the magic ruby into your hand. Somehow you know in your young mind there is more magic that needs doing.
The ET boots levitate you from the cave of the parent deep into the valley of eggshells. You click your heels, like Dorothy in OZ, and a powerful digital reprogramming code embedded on the glowing soles of the ET boots ignites!
Soon the egg shells all begin to rise into the grey valley. You giggle a child’s laugh of amazement as the valley turns a lush green full of flowers of wild shapes and colors. All is new.
Your little inner child works your new ET boots’ techno-magic with glee. Billions of eggshells spin into a tornado of white and gold flakes. Faster and faster the broken eggshells spin until they fuse into two new healthy glowing alabaster eggs.
Each perfect egg is about 6 feet tall. A blue beam of light, from a UFO in a sky filled with dazzling stars overhead, shines into the two new eggs. Within the eggs you see womankind developing into a goddess and mankind developing into a god. Little you is transforming the eggshells of rage with your ET boots to bring forth a new divine masculine and divine feminine. Divines free at last of the past harms we as a species have done to each other over the ages.
Little you dances for joy between the eggs and now you gently tap both eggs with a knuckle from each hand. With a “knock, knock, knock” a bright green time wave races out of the eggs and blasts through the red ruby. Pulsing green and red waves heals you of all past harms done to you by the women and men in your life and your past and future lives in all dimensions and realities.
The pulsing green and red healing waves race across the face of the earth, through all timelines; past, present and future. All dimensions.
A new sun encircled in a rainbow of colors rises over the valley. Little you realizes this is the long-awaited dawn of a fresh start. A new age free of eggshell walking is born.
But little you is wise enough now to know that all this wonder, though is amazing, is simply a fresh start. You giggle confidently, knowing fearlessly that we all will break new eggs again in this new age. Nothing and no one is perfect. Humpty Dumpty will fall again.
Now, however, whenever your amazing inner child feels the ancient anxiety of trying to please the un-pleasable mother or father giant parent, by starting to walk on eggshells to be a “pleaser” to the present woman or man in your life today, simply put on your ET boots again and stomp away!
We now you return to your present-day self. No more walking on eggshells you, dear reader of planet earth. The time for real transformation is now. There’s no time left for the old eggshells of childhood fears that have been running us all as a negative program.
Indeed, it’s no accident old society gives us no training in coping with our ancient wounds. That’s to keep you a prisoner to the old ways, what many call The Matrix. Time to move forward! Time to live our lives without fear or perfectionism or being a pleaser. The magic ruby we bravely retrieved from the valley of eggshells is called self-love.
Share this meditation with someone you love. We little boys and girls of the New Age have a planet to save with our dance of the eggshells.
DreamShield‘s Ken Sheetz is in Sedona filming Dr. Patrick Flanagan, founder of PhiSciences, to whom this meditation is dedicated,for a new documentary after the success of the web series THE FLANAGAN EXPERIMENTS, with over 25 million views on YouTube for BuzzBroz.
“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
Mica Monet as Isis on Halloween
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.
Antares (α Scorpii, α Sco, Alpha Scorpii) is a red supergiantstar in the Milky WayGalaxy and the sixteenth brightest star in the nighttime sky. It is sometimes listed as 15th brightest, if the two brighter components of the Capella quadruple star system are counted as one star. Along with Aldebaran, Regulus, and Fomalhaut, Antares comprises the group known as the ‘Royal stars of Persia’. It is one of the four brightest stars near the ecliptic. It is the brightest star in the constellation Scorpius, and is often referred to as “the heart of the scorpion”. Antares is a slow irregular variable star with an average magnitude of +1.09.[3] Antares is the brightest, most massive, and most evolved stellar member of the nearest OB association (the Scorpius-Centaurus Association). Antares is a member of the Upper Scorpius subgroup of the Scorpius-Centaurus Association, which contains thousands of stars with mean age 11 million years at a distance of approximately 145 parsecs (470 light years).[10]
Properties
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.[3] It has a radius of approximately 883 times that of the Sun;[6] 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.[1] 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.[11] A recent analysis[10] 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).[12] This implies a radius of 755 solar radii at 170pc.
Antares is a type LCslow irregular variable star, whose apparent magnitude slowly varies from +0.88 to +1.16.[4]
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;[13] 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.
Companion star
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,[6] giving a combined separation of about 574 AU.[14] The stellar classification of this star is B2.5,[11] with numerous spectral lines suggesting it has been polluted by matter ejected by Antares A.[6] 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.[11]
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).[15] The companion is often described as green, but this is probably either a contrast effect[11] 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,[16] 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).[17] When observed by itself during such an occultation, the companion appears a profound blue or bluish-green color.[17]
The orbit of the companion star is poorly known, with an estimated period of 1,200[18] – 2,562 years.[19]
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.[20][21] Every year around December 2 the Sun passes 5° north of Antares.[13]
Traditional names
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.[22] The comparison of Antares with Mars may have originated with early Mesopotamian astronomers.[23] 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.[23]
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”).[23]
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).[25]
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).[23]
Antares is listed in MUL.APIN as GABA GIR.TAB, meaning “the Breast of the Scorpion:Lishi, Nabu”.[26]
Calbalakrab from the Arabic Qalb al-Άqrab.[27] This had been directly translated from the Ancient Greek Καρδιά Σκορπιού Kardia Skorpiū.
Cor Scorpii translated above Greek name into Latin.[23]
A dangerously thin young man, adorned in tattered desert combat fatigues, Roger McCalister makes his way to park bench beneath the menace of clouds that hover over Central Park.
The condo skyscrapers of Manhattan, where unimaginable wealth resides, tower in stark contrast to Roger who has not had a shower in weeks.
Still, there’s a handsome aura and stoic humor about this young vet as he breaks out his worn guitar from the traveling home on his back. Roger perches a sign scrabbled in crayons on cardboard on red velvet inside of his open guitar case that reads:
“Homeless vet. Give for me to live!”
A young affluent mother walks a luxury baby buggy that could feed ten vets for a week past Roger’s humble sidewalk concert spot.
“Morning, ma’am,” Roger says, not expecting an answer and not getting one as the mother hurries on avoiding eye contact.
A light drizzle begins as Roger tunes up his guitar. Roger is mystified he’s not getting wet. He looks up to see an umbrella with a map of the globe on it. Roger twists further to see a beautiful redhead is being an angel keeping him dry.
“Thanks, but I don’t mind the rain, miss.” says Roger.
“Name’s, Gaia, ” says the redhead beauty.
“Never met a Gaia before. What kind of name’s Gaia?” says Roger with a strum of his guitar.
“Hippie name for mother earth. Mom and dad were flower children in the 60s.” says Gaia.
“I dig the 60s. People still gave a shit, ” says Roger playing a 60s riff on his beat up guitar.
“You’re good!” says Gaia.
“Had a lot of time on my hands in Iraq and then Afghanistan. Picked it up from a buddy named Bradley, who bought it with an IED,” says Roger sadly.
“Must feel awful to have served all that time and end up neglected by a People you served so valiantly,” says Gaia.
“I was homeless before the service. Just back on my regular beat. Signed up right after 9/11. Only sixteen. Lied about my age. Zero hard feeling about serving America. I had three squares a day and a place to sleep every night,” says Roger fondly.
“Why didn’t you stay in the Army then?” says Gaia.
“I wrote a song about it. Have time to hear? Don’t want to keep you if you have a job to get to,” says Roger, expecting her exit.
But the beauty stays and with a nod from Gaia, Roger starts to play:
“Singed up for 9/11.
War for me was heaven.
The army kept me fed.
Gave me a clean bed.”
A small crowd of New Yorkers gather as Roger sings and plays like an angel.
“Eight years went by in a flash.
Saved me up lots of cash.
When an IED took my bud Bradley
I lost my music and way sadly.
Decided to give peace a go.
But little did I know
Sharks live on land.”
Tears well in Gaia’s eyes as Roger plays his haunting song.
“My savings turned to sand.
Never learned to hold a job.
Does that make me a slob?
No one to give me orders
Now I guitar for dollars.”
People from the crowd toss wads of cash into Roger’s guitar case as plays on.
“I signed up for 9/11.
War for me was heaven.
The army kept me fed.
Gave me a clean bed.
But now that I am out
Though I scream and shout.
No one seems to hear…
Somebody buy me a beer!”
Roger stops playing with a grin and the crowd, grown to about 100 people, erupts into thunderous applause.
Gaia kisses Roger on his bearded cheek and says, “May I have this dance?”
“There’ll be no music if I stop playing,” says Roger.
“Your teacher Bradley can take over playing,” says Gaia as she points to Bradley in the growing crowd.
Bradley, all dressed in white army fatigues, steps from the crowd and takes up Roger’s guitar while a bright smile.
“Bradley! You’re alive, bro!” says Roger taking Bradley into a hug.
“Complicated. Shut up and dance with Gaia, you lucky stiff.” says Roger as he strikes up a passionate flamenco.
Roger bows to Gaia and they dance to the applause of the crowd in a spotlight of sunbeam.
Gaia and Roger dance up the sunbeam. Roger looks down on Central Park at Bradley playing guitar and sees his slumped body on the park bench.
“Ah. I’m dead…, ” says Roger wistfully.
“Nonsense. There’s much for you to do, soldier. I need good men like you to save my world,” says Gaia joyously.
“I enlist!” says Roger, sprouting dazzling angel wings as he dances Gaia into the morning sun.
THE END
Hi Guys, I am on long-term assignment filming super scientist Patrick Flanagan of PhiSciences in Sedona where I’ve settled down from my world travels these past four years to recharge for a bit. 2014 will see my world travels again to exotic lands and places for our planetary meditations. For now I take the greatest journey of all, the one within.
Help support my work awakening the planet. Make a donation at the PayPal link on Dreamshield.org and I promise you much magic will find its way back to you.
“To be trusted is a is a greater compliment than to be loved.” – George MacDonald
By Ken Sheetz
Sears Tower (AKA Willis Tower)
Early in my amazing real estate career where I rose to being Chicago’s #1 real estate broker, named by the Chicago times and #1 real estate re-development holder for Oprah’s TV studios, I asked my mentor Wes Irvine, who leased the Sears Tower and built 200 South Wacker Drive, “Wesly, how do I know who to trust and who not to trust?”
I didn’t tell Wes, I had too much shame at the time, that I had no trust skills because I was severely abused by my father for 21 years. I was freaking out. So much of real estate is based on trust. You really only have a handshake and millions of dollars in commissions are on the line.
Super broker Wes Irvine had hired me away from the interior architecture world at the tender age of 27 for a hefty draw, unheard of for a real estate rookie. Wes could spot talent. And I had broken all RMM Inc. sales records landing over a million square feet of headquarters projects in a single year.
Sadly, my stellar performance was driven by low self-esteem and I never rested. But Wes was a shrewd New Yorker transplant to Chicago, brought to the Windy City to fill 4 million empty square feet for Sears by Cushman & Wakefield, and he knew he had dynamo in Ken Sheetz. We both became wealthy together and made his new firm Irvine Associates a force to the reckoned with
Wes seemed not to hear me as we raced up Adams Street with lease documents to shuttle from between landlord and tenant for signatures on my first 6 figure commission. Though brand new to brokerage I was bringing in huge assignments to represent big tenants right off the bat. I was a natural salesman with superb training and unique skills as an interior architect no other broker in Chicago could match. Within a short time I was leading the city as one of the top ten producers of big deals and agencies to represent major new skyscrapers.
But for now I was a wet behind the ears rookie with a lot to learn. And I was paranoid about losing clients and losing my new home with my wife pregnant with my first child. So I asked again, “How do I know who to trust, Wes?”
Wes smiled a confident smile and said with his thick Brooklyn accent, “You never know who to trust. What you do is trust everyone until they fuck with you. Then you never fucking trust them again.”
Wesly Irvine’s wisdon was pure genius, worthy of the shamans and spirit leaders like the amazing Patrick Flanagan, Father of the New Age, that I meet in my film career of today. A film career I began after I lost all trust in the system of banking behind real estate and the corporations. It all shifted I lost trust.
Clients and Friends I Trust Patrick and Stephanie Flanagan
I continue to this day placing my full trust in people until they fuck with me. Then I move on. Fuck overs happen even in conscious film work but less so than real estate. Perfection is an illusion.
Today I love promoting greats like Patrick and his amazing wife Stephanie Sutton and Don Miguel Ruiz, author of the Four Agreements, Tony Camacho of The Gateway, SpiritQuest of Sedona and more.
Take my word for it. Wes’s Sopranos’s style philosophy, gained from clawing his way to being Chicago’s top broker before me; trust people and organizations until they fuck with you. Then never trust them again.
You will be vulnerable and you will get badly hurt at times. Some horror stories for you. One donor comes to mind who stiffed me on their contribution to my Antarctica meditation and nearly left me stranded at the end of the world. Next a certain ranch owner who slowly kept whittling down our deal of tranpo, food and room until I said “fuck it.” Then I recall a partner who schemed to take over my skyscraper project who had promised he’d never fuck me.
But worst was an ex-wife who, from my point of view and I acknowledge it as such and I know she sees it otherwise and perhaps rightly so, took everything we owned from me when we protected our assets from the banks, legitimately and with great care, when the real estate market crashed in 1991 (rents have never come back to where they were after 22 years) by putting all things in her name. She promised after the danger with the bank had passed to return to sharing our wealth as before we were in Defcon mode. But she refused and I sought separation. She served me papers, divorcing me at the low point of my life, rather than trusting I was lost and going through hell. I loved her like I’ve loved no other woman. I would perhaps have come back. We never got that chance. She moved out of fear taking advantage of advice that the first person to file has the upper hand in a divorce.
But worst of worst of all, my ex poisoned the love and trust of my two dear kids. I do not resent my ex for she was deeply influenced by the toughest divorce lawyer in Chicago and bolstered the fear of my ex-mother-in-law who hated me for no other than I loved her daughter. My kids will be back one day. The stuff my ex stills clings I didn’t need anyways. Yeah, Talk about breaking trust and getting hurt. Trust is not easy. And I do not bring up this deeply personal story of the end of an 18 year marriage over broken trust lightly but to illustrate how painful trusting can be.
So occasionally you will get fucked over big time for trusting, severely fucked, but accepting this you will feel less stress and people will rise to your trust 90% of the time. You will thrive and live without fear and those around you will love you for trusting them.
Seems like yesterday I picked out the marble for this lobby from the same quarry in Italy that Michelangelo selected to create the statue of David.
In 1988 I rose to the top of real estate world on trust. And built One North Franklin for $162 million, the lobby of which is pictured here. Pure perfection. Link to full building description.
t doesn’t happen as much anymore since I’ve been away from real estate nearly 20 years now, but as recent as a couple of years ago I did some consulting on a new skyscraper being built in LA by one of my film backers. I could walk back into that world easily. I hope to build again when I find money people with integrity.
One last thought on trust. Sears walked from their mortgage when the markets crashed in the early 90s that ended my real estate career. Our whole economy is operating outside trust and integrity now.
People are all we have left to trust in. Love and trust them all until they fuck with you and then never trust them again.
Epic Dreamshield vision early this morning, 9.15.13. Birthday of my son, still lost deep in the Matrix. I have just returned to Sedona from a 10 day visit to my brother Fred in Wisconsin. He remains in an induced coma suffering from 2 bleeding ulcers. His condition remains uncertain. Fred now battles pneumonia and infections from his long healing process.
Early this morning I saw a hostile alien fleet enter earth space, in blatant defiance of the Galactic Treaty of 2010 that I have blogged about in great detail here. The aliens were so deeply cloaked in darkness that I could not make out their race or features.
The bastards were here to supervise their evil workings they set in place with Fukushima radiation #WTFUKU, addictions and diseases, meant to wipe us out the way the Spaniards wiped out the Mayans and Aztecs with blankets carrying small pox.
Malevolent does not even begin to describe this bunch of ETs preying on an earth addicted by pointless pursuits of amusement, wealth and fame.
But the ETs of Orion who guard our world were ready for battle. An example of the power of love would be made, a line drawn in the sand of space for these defilers of the galaxy.
Before the dark beings could dematerialize, the light ships of the Orions appeared from nowhere and flooded the hostile fleet with light that carried a code of unrelenting love. The dark ETs roared as the light poured through their every atom, blasting away all darkness and anger from their souls.
“A love beam!” I said to myself in wonder. Honored to be witnessing a great shift and seeing low love conquers evil in the heavens.
Transformed into beings of love and light the hostile aliens, newborn ET angels, set to work at undoing their evils upon our planet. An emissary of the once hostile fleet set off for the home world to transform their species forever.
Ohom of the Orions spoke to me at great length after the vision about my brother, still in induced coma after 12 days. I and the whole family, minus my two estranged kids who have each gotten a stern and well deserved rebuke from me, visited Fred from all across the country. After 10 days I felt he was out of enough danger to return to Sedona to my work on The Flanagan Experiments.
Ohom gently assured me, “Fred is a powerful being who has been doing battle with the dark forces for many lifetimes. Know that whatever he chooses, to stay in this world with you in this world or not, that he will be held in the light of love. Darkness cannot fight the light.”
Many thanks to all who have kept Fred in your heart in his battles in the twilight. Special thanks to Patrick Flanagan, Stephanie Sutton, Mica Monet and Deborah McGill who have been using their powerful gifts of remote healing to help my brother and our family through this hard time. Earth angels rock!
“Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.” – Buddha
By Ken Sheetz
You are more powerful than you know.
Saturday a post on Facebook by Sedona spirit worker Ed Preston alerted me about the California fires. San Fransisco was in danger of evacuation, the great redwoods in danger too. So I did planetary meditations I blogged about yesterday. I just checked the news. WOW. Containment has doubled in the past 24 hours and the news says it looks like the giant redwoods and city are going to be saved after all.
How confident were the ET angels that guide me in meditation today about SF and the redwoods? They had me back on Fukushima duty today. Progress in the Pacific is accelerating as I learn to use the unlimited power of the DreamShield.
It’s a force field we can all access to protect our world. All planets with sentient life have these shields. Gaia was born without one for some reason. But I am blessed to have been part of earth being gifted with a DreamShield by ETs from the Orion star system on May 5, 2010.
We are the stewards of this world. And the dream shield is a tool. It manifests at various speeds and with our real world actions. Meditation sets intent. Fire, floods, earthquakes, comets, pole shift, rogue worlds, all manner of dangers, both within and without are on the way to obsolete.
News report: “Firefighters were aided by movement of the blaze into less forested areas, higher humidity and cooler temperatures…” From Yahoo News.
“Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgement. For even the very wise cannot see all ends”
― Wisdom of Gandalf from J.R.R. Tolkien’s, “The Two Towers”
By Ken Sheetz
I meditate this morning on putting out the raging California fires, some 56 of them. One of which has sent San Fransisco into a state of emergency. I use the giant 300 mile long version of a red magnetic magic wand from my childhood once again. It’s proven a faithful effective visualization tool in my planetary meditations for water healings I’ve been doing all week.
Since I am not done with meditations for cleaning Fukushima radiation in the Pacific yet, a series of 12 meditations the guides say are needed for that mess, I will the wand down from the dream shield, powered by the collective consciousness, which hovers at the edge of space. The dream shield is a tool of awesome positive power that I was blessed to work with ETs of the Orion star system to activate in 2010, precisely for urgent planetary emergencies like this one. The biosphere dream device can handle anything space tosses at us or we toss at ourselves.
I send the water wand plunging into the Atlantic. The wand turns from red to blue as it magnetically draws in seawater. The 300 miles long wand sucks in a great deal of water. Next, I levitate the water-soaked magnetic wand from the Atlantic ocean and begin to transport it to California. Not surprisingly, the wand is heavy and clumsy to levitate, holding many tons of water. With concentration the wand slowly makes its way over the US for the San Fransisco area, where millions are threatened. It is Sunday morning August 25th about 5 AM. A galactic portal day, many are saying on Facebook.
As I slowly carry the fire fighting energy of the Atlantic to California, I think back on my asking my brother Fred to help in this DreamShield powered meditation last night. Fred flatly turns me down, saying he is not ready to join me in planetary meditations, not now, perhaps never. That hurt, but I respect this work is not for everyone. Not even my brother.
Me right with Mom and Fred, circa 1959
Fred and I have a lot healing to do with each other from a childhood where both our parents often pitted us, brother against brother. Fred told me last night once how, when I was senior in high school and he was a freshman, that I passed him in the hallway without saying hi. That hurt him deeply. I don’t recall the instance fully. Most likely, I was just preoccupied. I have mild ADD and I do not do well spotting people in crowds. But Fred’s reaction tells me he is carrying guilt of some kind.
Before I can dig into what that guilt might be, my brother asks if he might visit me in Sedona for a week for my September birthday coming up soon. Well, it was more like Fred me told me at first. Fred can be forceful at times. But Fred saw he was for once and apologized for being pushy. I reassure Fred I am happy he is coming.
Next day, I make plans to house Fred at the resort in his own room. Love my bro, but a week in same room is not my idea of fun. I will be working in advance with angel channel Mica Monet, my beautiful Sedona spirit friend, on healing the complex relationship I have with my brother Fred.
My brother Fred tells me that he wants to come to Sedona because he is awakening to new realms and abilities that began to emerge 2 weeks ago. He asks guidance and support from me, his closest relative aside from his son Joey and our mother. Fred says he also hopes to have a chance to meet my friend and client inventor Patrick Flanagan. I warn Fred I can make no promises about Patrick’s busy schedule.
A simple welder all these many years, by choice, Fred put aside college and a brilliant life as a scientist. Why? To follow in our bipolar father’s footsteps as a tradesman. Nobel hands on work, but the world was cheated of much of Fred’s genius when he dropped out of college. If Patrick is free to meet Fred it will prove an eye opener for my brother to speak with a man who has dedicated his life to inventing holistic remedies and is considered a reincarnation of Nikola Tesla.
Fred was smarter than me in school by far. Too bright for the normal classes that I could barely get by in, Fred took all the advanced classes. Then he turned his back on it all, just to be near dad in the trades. Fred’s reward was to be tormented by our bipolar father on the job. One time my father, as a prank, electrified a large metal container Fred was inside of welding. Fred was nearly electrocuted and never trusted my father again. I distanced myself from my wild father once I grew up, while Fred held him close.
I am happy that Fred is beginning to invent things again, for the first time since we were kids. He is working on a solar steam device and I have been lending him a little financial support, paying back some of the money he loaned me to chase my dream of being a Hollywood director. The least I can do.
For now, however, there is a fury in my brother that radiates from him. You can imagine it’s tough getting back on his true path at the tender age of 59. And, just as with my 2010 awakening, many in the family feel my brother has lost his mind. Why chase inventing versus the solid paychecks of welding as he’s been doing for nearly 40 years, they wonder?
Awakening has been overwhelming for my brother these past few weeks. Fred experiences a wild sense of euphoria mixed with fear and calls me every few hours; compared to our normal once a week hour-long calls. It’s been a strain on me. A part of my recent exhaustion. Fred’s intensely digs deep into things in ways that are hard for my active, less scientific mind to comprehend.
For 3 years the angels have been telling me one of my jobs, as an early awakened soul will be to help the new people waking up. I just never expected that work be this personal. My dear brother, a Gemini with a dualistic nature that has always baffled me. It’s going to be a challenge. But one I am up for here in Sedona with many angels both earthly and otherwise to help me.
On the phone Fred sounds like he’s drinking more than usual. And for a few moments I hear my father’s voice within Fred’s. An other worldly mix of anger and hope at war. A voice I don’t like hearing as my father beat me daily. Dad even broke my arm once by tossing me into a wall when I lashed back at his abuse with a punch to his jaw. I was nine.
On my 12th birthday my father nearly killed me with a belt beating. The crime did not fit my father’s belt lashing. I had hit my baby brother for teasing me. I didn’t like the savings bond gift Dad had got me. I wanted a spaceship toy. For hitting my baby brother Bruce my father goes berserk. Fred tells me, he is 10 at the time, that he feels so helpless as my father lashes me. It is like witnessing firsthand the horrific scene from Gibson’s Christ in the Passion, blood flows from my back to stain my white T-shirt. It takes both my mother and grandmother diving on my crazed father’s back to save my life.
As Fred recounts my sad birthday story from his point of view, he confesses to me for the first time that dad never even spanked him his whole life. Whereas I was beaten badly so often I’ve lost count. I process that revelation for an entire day and next day tell Fred he can feel free of any guilt about his free pass with Dad. Fred took plenty of mental abuse like some sort of co-conspirator/informant. I forgive my brother and feel his relief over the phone. He chokes back with tears his thanks.
Despite all this, my dear brother Fred struggles now with the fact I carry no more anger about our bipolar dad, resulting from my healing work that has gone on for 20 years and concluded here in Sedona with the help of many. Our brotherly rage fest with our father was always something we shared in common. Fred feels alone with his rage now and my breaking of wicked conspiratorial bonds he had to my dad. Fred’s had a powerful psychic surgery from our talks. His healing will take time. And beautiful Sedona will help when he visits me for more pleasant birthday than my twelfth.
Fred tells me he is bringing an old family album with him on his visit to me in Sedona. He says there is a horrific picture where my father’s “demon” was caught on film. I tell Fred there is no such thing as demons. Only repressed anger. But what’s in a name? Anger is a powerful negative force, if left untreated, a devil that wrecks all around us. But I bravely tell Fred I will look at the album to help heal my brother carrying so much shame about not being beaten the way I was. I already know that I will have no anger and fear looking at the photo, even if dad has horns in the photos. Those days of fearing my dad and raging on him are past for me. Fred and I will find a new more positive common ground in our life.
Lost in these thoughts of my brother’s rapid and sudden healing, I drop the water wand as it is passes over Arizona. Rather than get mad at myself, as I might in the past, or even blame Fred for his painful distractions, I send the wand back to the Atlantic and start the meditation over.
“Dolphin Firefighters” by Ken Sheetz
At last the Atlantic waters of the wand finally reaches the fires of California raging outside San Fransisco. A team of electric dolphins leap from the Pacific, grateful for the Fukushima meditations, join the Atlantic waters and pull a wave of the water soaring into the wall of flame. Living redwoods join to battle the fire by diverting rivers. It’s more epic the LTOR. And the fire dies in a cloud of steam.
I know Patrick Flanagan, who is in California now visiting the Napa Valley, with his amazing wife Stephanie, are both somehow joining this planetary meditation. Ha. They thought they were taking a vacation to the wine country. Angels work in funny ways.
Friday my brother received a gift from me of Megahydrate, an amazing health supplement of Pat’s Phisciences.com. Fred, a heavy smoker, tells me gratefully he feels the hydration instantly in his eyes and dry mouth. Cancer thrives in dehydration, I see in this meditation. Patrick’s gift may then save my smoker brother’s life. No wonder he wants to meet him so badly he is traveling all the way from Wisconsin, our family home.
Patrick’s amazing products are a prime example of how these meditations manifest in ways that our world can facilitate. Earth is, in fact, a manifesting machine. Our thoughts are things and we have far more power to shape this reality than we know.
The fire meditation a success, I find myself in a dream of a rehearsal of a young black singer. He’s a homeless kid I discovered to carry on the work of Michael Jackson. He looks a lot like the young MJ. He sings a newly discovered Jackson song that Michael wrote before his death. It’s angelic. I am blessed to still hear it echo in my mind as a I write you, dear reader. I am in tears as the young man finishes the love song called “Marlene”. I take the homeless MJ kid into a hug. He smells bad and it’s a grimy hug. Waking, I realize it’s a metaphor for my healing brother Fred who will bring a new song to the world from old steam power.
As I write to you, dear reader, I am having an open eye vision that makes it hard to see what I type. It’s a double-exposure where I walk the moist charred fire baked floor of the California forest. Steam mist rises into the air. The fires are out. San Fransisco lies safe in the distance. I again find myself hoping, as I have for three years now, that one day my brother Fred will join me in these amazing, if exhausting, meditations.
And then the ET angel Ohom of the Orion star system asks me to get out of bed and walk to the window of my Sedona area room here in Cottonwood at a cozy B&B called the Desert Rose. It’s time for some confirmation my meditations are real Ohom kids me, knowing I still harbor some doubts. I throw open the little bedroom window. I laugh at what the water wand dropped here from the Atlantic. It is raining in the desert. The first morning rain in my six month stay. Rain soon to visit California.
Enjoy my meditation video about healing fire with the amazing singer/actor Lynda Valliche. It worked here in Arizona, it will work for California.
“O Helena, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine!
To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne?
Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show
Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!”
– William Shakespeare, “Midsummer Nights Dream”
I lay tucked in bed in my cozy room at the Desert Rose B&B, up for the day and doing my daily morning meditation. I have no idea I am about to have the biggest vision since the launch of DreamShield in 2010 when I saw 7 foot tall blue skinned ET angels.
I feel called off world and I astral project myself from the resort in Sedona and quickly rocket into space. In no time at all I am past the moon. I will myself to greater speed. Faster than I have ever traveled before in meditation or dreams, I break all laws of physics. I zip past galaxies faster than any human has ever traveled, an impossible one billion times the speed of light.
I come to stop and hover outside the universe(s). It’s a gorgeous vast tangle of galaxies, resembling the human brain’s trillions of neurons, majestically spread before me to infinity.
Now the galaxies shift into a pattern of symbols. A mega “download”. — A somewhat annoying New Age slang term for compressed wisdom transmitted from the spirit world of the ETs. One day we’ll have a better word than the robotic sounding download for these amazing transmissions of so much loving knowledge that takes up so little human drive space in our brains.
What I witness in this epic download is a mixture of Reiki symbols and new alien symbols never seen before by human eyes. I make a mental note to use hypnosis to recall them at a later date. Recording them using the pen and paper on my nightstand would end the vision before I could copy down more than a few of the 77 dazzling symbols made of trillions of galaxies floating before me.
All for later to recall this and share it. Or perhaps not at all as this may be a simple relay job for me. Much of my vision work is like that. Another reason not to disturb the vision by jotting down the amazing symbols formed of all the galaxies. I see now, like our Gaia, galaxies are living creatures. The galaxies have flown into these patterns, like a flock of birds, for me to see this message that will transform me and our world in ways we cannot even imagine. For now, laying peacefully in my bed, at my Sedona base of operations for DreamShield meditations and the incredible day job of filming THE FLANAGAN EXPERIMENTS, this cosmic majesty is more than enough.
TRAIN IN THE RAIN
I reflect on the night before, where I took the stars of the new hit web series with over 25 million views, Patrick Flanagan and his wife Stephanie, as my guests on the Verde Valley train ride. It rains the whole train trip, from heavy to light. I tell the amazing couple I am sorry for the rain blocking out the stars and moon. But as long-time residents of the desert, both are happy for the rain.
While the rain and rocks of the Verde river fly the windows, Patrick is lost in his virtual lab. An inner sanctuary where he perfects his inventions before bringing them out to share in this world. Stephanie and he have a passionate relationship I have been lucky to catch on film. Neither pulls any punches debating the Shift and their roles in it. And a little wine and champagne sets off another of their brush fire talks.
As always, I am amazed these two can argue so heatedly like this and be hugging and kissing five minutes later. It’s something I would enjoy to a smaller degree in my next relationship. They purge and a process oceans of male and female energies like nothing I have ever witnessed.
A big part of the train ride is spent coaching Stephanie on dealing with the criticisms of friends and strangers about her part in THE FLANAGAN EXPERIMENTS. These superb videos have been her first direct public exposure before the camera. I teach her that many people have hidden agendas and petty jealousies when they make comments. Extreme caution must be taken when listening to feedback. Truly honest and tasteful feedback people are a rare commodity.
Frankly, when Patrick told me he wanted to share the spotlight his wife Stephanie, who had never been on camera before, I was against it. But I listen to genius, one of my exceptions, and so I filmed Steph. I was blown away with her deep knowledge of the ancient Mayan calendar and how its’ still very much alive. I’ve learned from her the Mayan calendar didn’t really end on 12.21.12 like we all thought. Kind of embarrassing for a guy basing his whole life preparing for that date for three years. Click here to see Stephanie’s brilliant interview on the new Vimeo channel I am building for Patrick.
Patrick wants to stay in the first-class indoor car to keep working on his new invention. He literally creates electrical diagrams in his mind first before placing pencil to paper. Stephanie ‘s disappointed her husband is lost in thought and I escort her out of the train car into the rain. We have the outdoor viewing car mostly to ourselves, except for a worried old tour guide from the east coast who frets about us slipping on the wet deck. Stephanie and I grab a spot out of the direct rain under the awnings, normally meant for shade from the hot Arizona sun.
Here in the freshest damp air I’ve ever breathed, I teach Stephanie a bit about the Hollywood School of Hard Knocks skills on how to listen, sift what may be useful from viewer comments and move on. This hard-won skill took me years to develop. So I advise Steph to be patient with herself as she grows a thicker skin for her vital work as a new web celeb.
As the train winds through the rain-soaked desert, the smell of wet sage fills my lungs. It’s then I realize helping Stephanie overcome this negativity and other negativity that bombards her sensitive soul, is one of the reasons I’ve been brought here to Sedona.
DreamShield is uniquely positive in its mission. Wildly positive in the face of epic negativity. All will be well in the end no matter how bad things may look is its simple yet potent message of hope. I see in Stephanie’s face a lifting of the veil of the negative forces keeping her down. My heart soars as we sip our champagnes while the rain-soaked train steams past ancient Hopi ruins carved in the rock mountains.
The rain lets up and I coax Patrick to take a break, from inventing god only knows what, to venture out of the luxury train car onto the open air platforms where all the majesty of the desert surrounds us. Light rain pelts me and I now get why the dynamic couple are happy about the rain. Patrick rejoins his wife of eighteen years with hugs and kisses. No residue of their little argument remains.
Patrick, who has been in the public eye since the 1960s when LIFE MAGAZINE featured him as one of the top ten scientists to watch in the world, reinforces what I am teaching Stephanie about ignoring and filtering harsh comments of strangers and loved ones. I realize this new stress of being exposed on the web is Stephanie’s the source of physical pain in her leg that she complained of as our train pulled out of Clarkdale.
With her permission and Pat’s support, I give Steph a train ride Reiki treatment. I picture a globe of water energy soothing her cramped leg and send all tension down into the train tracks to be crushed. Soon as I finish the healing, Stephanie hops from the bench and starts dancing on the train car deck as PEACE TRAIN plays on the PA. I say to Patrick, “Wow. My best Reiki healing ever.” I only do these healings for friends, even though I constantly get heat from my Reiki teacher Dorothy Donahue in LA to hang up a shingle.
Patrick looks worried Stephanie is hopping around on the hurt leg so soon on the slippery wet train deck. I simply shrug in amazement.
As the train ride nears its end, we pass through an old slag heap from when this scenic train line used to carry copper, not sight-seers. The train track cuts through the heart of the slag heap. And the old train conductor explains, with his thick east coast accent, that the slag is has just been bought by a mining company to sift gold, silver and other raw minerals from it. Bought for 1.5 million dollars. Not bad for an old slag heap from 1911 when this train line was first built.
I hold forth my hand at the slag heap as the trains passes through the carved channel. I will the slag heap to send a healing surge into all aboard this train, pulled by an eagle painted engine car. A sign for yours truly who has an eagle pattern as a natural tattoo in his head from seeing angels in Italy. I see the sparkles of gold float into all of us. Another download.
WINNING A GOLDEN GLOBE
Back to the next morning meditation where I travel beyond the universe: The moist desert air from the train ride with Pat and Steph has done me good. I woke rested from my best sleep so far in Sedona. Usually, the dry desert air and my sinuses issue are a serious problem I battle here in Sedona all night long. Guess I am adapted to a lifetime the humid climates of Lake Michigan and the Pacific.
I record the epic sight of the universe(s) condensed to code with a mental snapshot to review later in hypnosis. I turn from the strange new symbols formed from galaxies to find myself standing at the front entrance of a small shop. I look up at the sign and it says “Golden Age Curiosities”.
A shop bell chimes as I enter the magical little store. The golden light of the shop is something you can feel as well as see.
A young goddess with sandy red hair looks up from her golden cash register. “Welcome to our little shop at the end of the universes. What reality can I help with you, Mr Sheetz?” she says gesturing to golden shelves filled with various realities held suspended in crystal globes.
“Cool,” I say, “I’m looking for something peaceful for Earth but not boring.”
“We don’t do boring, ” says the goddess shopkeeper, taking me by the arm. She guides me a few paces from her counter to browse new realities contained in beautiful globes lining her store’s golden shelves.
“May I suggest our Grecian Reboot model?” the goddess says with a dazzling smile. “Perfect thing for worlds like yours that need major overhaul.”
I am a power shopper in real life and I know when I’ve found the right thing, so I say, “Sold! What’s your name, miss?”
The graceful goddess lifts the Grecian Reboot globe from the shelf as she says, “Helena.”
“Wow. As in Helena of Troy?” I wonder.
“Just Helena,” she giggles, casually boxing my purchase of new reality for earth. Just another day’s work for this goddess.
Pardon my brief detour from recounting the meditation vision of Helena’s store. But as I write this I blog I just researched on Google, our modern Oracle, and I see why Helena giggles at me here in the re-telling of the epic vision. #1 it’s Helen of Troy. #2 Helena is a daughter of Zeus. Some references cite Helena, not as daughter but as a consort to Zeus. Yahoo says Helena was not a goddess of any particular thing. Not anymore.
I also just found the Shakespeare quote top of the blog, all found post-vision and note how amazing it is that it’s from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” here during midsummer in Sedona! All these clues are meant to show me and you, dear reader, to take these vision as real on another plane of reality. This globe of change is real that sweet Helena has gifted us.
I peer into the Grecian Reboot globe and see the Parthenon of Greece, restored to full glory, operating in energetic lockstep with a mock Parthenon in Nashville. A fit to all my recent visions of a Greece that never fell. A lost timeline of a Golden Age that never ended that we are rejoining .
“Will this really do the trick for my messed up world, Helena?”
“We guarantee all our new realities, Mr. Sheetz.” Helena says with a smile that fills my heart with golden light.
The dazzling vision of Helena’s shop fades. I lay contented in bed at the resort in meditation a while longer, awaiting more wonders. Then I realize I am being greedy. How the heck do you top a meditation about a golden globe given to you by the goddess Helena at the end of the universe for rebooting your home planet?
Eat your heart out, Hollywood. No wonder I don’t bother with TV or movies much anymore. Why with the wonders that lie within… free and easy to access? Just a little good breathing, some concentration and, zoom, your off the stars!
I chuckle at my old Matrix greed that lingers and hop from bed a freer man. Time for a bike ride in the desert and then coffee to blog about this while all is fresh in my mind.
Here’s my video about rain in the desert from 2005.
Media, Meditations & Musings 