Dark Awakening – Part One

On May 3, 2014June 19, 2014 By Ken SheetzIn Uncategorized6 Comments

Nothing can stop me from loving my brother. – Brandy Norwood

225645_10150174932762029_682302028_7102782_2896074_n — Me and my little brother with Mom, circa 1959

Normally, I try to report things in my world kind of as they happen. However, in the case of my brother and his dark awakening, I’ve been slow. It’s been painful to share given he’s been the person I loved most in my life. He’s been with me through an abused childhood that we share as a powerful bond. Hard thing is my little brother, middle of three of us Sheetz boys, is not always easy to love.

I’ve pretty much led a boy scout of a life. Not always. I am no saint. I experimented in school with drugs and booze, trying to see if I could master what my dad never could. Lucky for me, I was rescued by the love of a college sweetheart, a powerful Taurus, who would become my wife.

Later in life, after my divorce, I’m now protected by the good habits learned while married to a good woman for 18 years and most of all my own clear grasp that clean and sober is the only way to live a happy life. My brother’s harsh life has served as a cautionary tale for me. Share it with someone you love who is drinking and drugging. If one person avoids my brother’s fate it will be worth it and is why ultimately I share “Dark Awakening.”

Unlike me, my brother never stopped self-medicating with substance abuse very long his whole life, from teen onward. While we are together and with family he behaves clean and sober, if always with a beer in hand with a smoke. The times in between are where his troubles lie.

On or about September 11, 2013, in that dark and disastrous 9/11 energy field, I see now as I write, I got a message from my nephew in the early AM that my brother was in the ICU after emergency surgery in a Kenosha Wisconsin hospital for a bleeding ulcer. I raced in my rental car, soon as I had my flights and hit the road to Wisconsin and my sick brother.

When my brother’s emergency hit I was on extended assignment for my film business BuzzBroz.com. There are no major flights into or out of Sedona. So I drove two anxiety filled hours to the Hertz rental car store at the Phoenix airport to make my connection to Chicago then a drive from Chicago up to Kenosha.

As the Arizona mountains and cactus flew past the rental car’s windows my sad thoughts went back to July 31, 1990 and the pit of despair my brother fell into that harmed my family-life in a profound way. It was my daughter’s 8th birthday party. We celebrated my little girl’s big day in our new mansion in Lake Forest, all of us having a wonderful time in the abundance life was showering on me as the sole family breadwinner.

The phone rang as my daughter cut her birthday cake. My wife answered, happily nibbling on the cake knife’s frosting. Soon her face went white with shock. She handed me the phone and said loud enough for everyone at the party to hear, “Ken, it’s your father. He says your brother has lost his marbles and is coming to the party to kill all of us!” A silence fell over my daughter’s birthday party.

I took the call, and my father, who was estranged from me at that time, repeated exactly what my wife said; my kid brother was coming to kill me and my entire family. The fear in my father’s guilt-choked voice sounded real. So I took action to protect my family from a brother who had gone insane, according to dad. My brother had not been himself for a solid year. Calling at all hours of the night. Bringing a hooker to dinner. So this dire warning fit.

After my call, the police sent quad cars to patrol near our home. My daughter’s party turned into a nightmare of fear my brother would appear any second with guns, knives or God know what.

My brother in-law grabbed a baseball bat from the garage and threatened to crack open my brother’s skull if he tried to mess with any of us. Worried how fast my baby’s birthday party was escalating to a killing-free-for-all, I asked my angry brother-in-law try to break my brother’s leg instead, please. That way we could pin him down for the police to deal with and not sink to his level. My brother-in-law, a dentist my mother-in-law constantly compared me to as my better, reluctantly agreed.

Meantime, my baby girl, my pride and joy’s sweet little faced turned from joy to fear and sorrow. “How could my brother do this shit to his sweet niece?” I wondered, infuriated.

The phone rang again and we all almost jumped out of our skin. I answered this time and the police reported that they had intercepted my brother at a Waukegan bar about half an hour north of Lake Forest. They said he was carrying no weapons except a legal sized jackknife and so no charges could be brought. My brother had told the cops he never made the horrible death threat my father claimed. My brother’s claim was that our father was angry over my brother taking his car without his permission and messing with us all. This was far more acceptable to my heart even though I did not completely believe my crazed brother. It was one crazy person, my dad’s word, against another his crazy son’s word.

The cops also said my brother was drunk and he needed a ride home back to Wisconsin to get my father’s car back. My wife stuck with me, afraid my brother might hurt me, and we left our son and daughter with my wife’s parents, who shot me again looks of disgust. This in-law duo had their own dark family issues I lovingly dealt with in the past. Now that it was their turn to return the favor I felt no love at all from them.

I hated to drag my wife from the party and wish I hadn’t. What a dumb thing to ask of her I see now. My brother was my mess to clean up. Ah, there’s the old enabling still in play. More accurately seen from 2014 my brother’s mess was HIS to clean up.

But this was 1990. Long before the tons of healing work I’ve done to recover from the many of the same child abuse issues, minus drugs and booze, plaguing my brother. I’d not yet had a stitch of therapy. Though my great success as a millionaire at only 38 years-old made me appear solid, I was in fact a mess on the inside. On this fateful birthday I was freaked out and not thinking clear. My brother and father when they teamed up like this, despite my great successes as Chicago’s #1 real estate broker according to many and some fans in the press, had a way of making me a helpless child again.

When I met my brother at the Waukegan bar where the cops had intercepted him, it was the first time in 2 years I’d seen him. The drinking and drugging and six months in prison had decimated his good looks. My love for him usually so strong, now a smoking crater in my heart, as this phantom of my brother staggered into my arms. He reeked of beer and cigarettes as he told his twisted side of the death threat story of our twisted father’s.

I am no fool. I only half believed my mess of a brother. I had seen how crazy he got on these binges many sad times. He may very well have said what he said to simply mess with our father, I rationalized, not imagining my brother could ever harm me or my family. Still I was disgusted at the mess he’d made of my daughter’s birthday party. Despite the disgust I felt at the awful way my poor brother acted, the past shared feelings of an abused childhood, the tears, my love for him got the better of me. So I offered to help him get home with our abusive dad’s car. At that moment in a way, I can see now I made a poor choice of my brother over my own new family. I simply couldn’t help myself and my wife was sad I was getting sucked into this mess.

I drove my dad’s beater car while my frightened wife followed in my racing green Jaguar. I’ll never forget the fear and confusion in her deep brown eyes flecked with gold as I watched her in my dad’s beater car’s review mirror, my ruined brother at my side taking solace in my rescue. I feel it’s where she lost her love for me. We’d end up divorced in 1992, but this was the fork in the road.

I shook off the thoughts of the birthday party from hell as I entered the northern suburbs of Phoenix, checking my review mirror to shift lanes to the Phoenix airport exit, on yet another rescue mission of my fragile, crazy brother.

This was my first time using that confusing and poorly laid out Phoenix airport. I realized in my haste that I accidentally chose to the bus for wrong terminal. The airport terminal bus driver, a man of eastern decent was making too busy making jokes, jokes none of which we white bread passengers found funny, to notice me trying to catch his attention. It was like he had a captive audience for his bad comedy routine and he was not present for his real job. Stupidly, I took his bad joke making thinking his humor made him kind. So I explained to the bus driver, “I got on the wrong bus for catching an American Airlines flight, sir. I am on a medical emergency to see a brother who might be dying of a bleeding ulcer, losing all the blood in his body and needing 11 bags of blood. I need to get to the right terminal, please.”

The bus driver’s reaction to my family emergency? He pulled to bus over to chat up a security guard buddy on the curb at the next stop, thus delaying me further. After his security guard pal reminded the joker Hertz driver that he had a nervous passenger waiting, the driver only offered to drive me to another terminal waiting area to catch another bus not the right terminal, mind you, just one along his route back to the parking lot.

Shocked at his glib shabby treatment, I again explained again how critical my brother’s condition was. I pleaded, “Call your supervisor. Just a short extra ride to the America Air terminal could mean me being able to say good-bye to a dying brother.”

Looking smug, relishing in my pain, the Hertz driver said with almost a giggle, “Not to worry, sir. The transfer bus is right behind me. See? You will catch your plane easily.”

Based on that promise I exited the Hertz bus in the 100 plus temp. But, you guessed it, the Hertz driver was a trickster and the bus behind him raced right past me. I waited a painful unnecessary 20 minutes for the transfer bus, trying to keep calm as I had visions of my brother dying without me at his side.

Drenched in sweat and badly dehydrating in the dry Phoenix air, I arrived at the American ticket counter to get my boarding pass. I explained to the young female AA agent about my medical emergency. The agent simply gave me my boarding pass and warned it was tight and they may close off the flight before I got to the gate, in which case I’d be wait listed to a later flight. “Please call the gate and tell them to hold the flight for me,” I asked.

“Sorry, sir. We can’t do that.” said the AA ticket agent, at least with some heart. No time to argue, off I ran for the gate.

To their credit the TSA people rushed me through upon hearing my brother’s plight. Shocker to see TSA behave more kindly than Hertz and AA personnel. I ran through the terminal for the gate, dodging passengers and baggage. As fate would have it, my gate was at the end of the big terminal.

Panting and totally covered sweat, I nonetheless arrived at the gate 15 minutes before scheduled departure. The AA gate agent, a heavy-set blonde woman with ice-cold black eyes, said, “Sorry sir, we have closed the flight.”

I pointed dramatically saying, “There’s the plane. It’s still at the gate!” I looked at my watch. “There’s still 15 minutes until you are scheduled to depart. Call the pilot. He can re-extend the gangplank for me. I have a brother near death, bleeding ulcers, I need to be on this flight, please, ma’am.”

This was not my day. And so the AA gate agent coldly said, “Sorry, sir. I will not call the pilot for you. Against policy.”

Outraged she wouldn’t even make a try, I asked for her name. At that point the gate agent silently did a comedic about-face worthy of Peter Sellers and escaped into the gangplank without giving me the dignity of obtaining her name.

No agent to speak to or comfort me in an hour of family need, I walked to the window in despair and took this still photo of the plane. I also took a video as the plane just sat there for 15 minutes as I watched helplessly. I posted it to YouTube under the title “Heartless Hertz and American Airlines” It had 35,000 views before YouTube removed the video with no explanation. But I can guess the reason. These two giants are big sponsors on YouTube. My heartbreaking video where I was emotional about missing the flight was going viral. Sadly, it was a direct upload and is lost now forever.

I sat in shambles at the airport when my cell phone began to ring in my backpack. Thinking it might be more about the medical emergency I hastily dumped the entire backpack contents onto the floor and grabbed my phone.

Sure enough it was my brother’s son, my favorite and only nephew. He reported his father’s condition looked rocky but stable for the moment. The docs were saying my bother was not out of the woods yet as the two bleeding ulcers were huge. My nephew explained he’d made arrangements for me to take care of his dad’s apartment and would give me keys at the hospital.

I almost started to cry as I explained to my 28-year-old nephew, who was the host of my 1996 election show that would air on PBS, when he was only 11, his first paying job in life, that I had missed my flight due to not one but two heartless corporations. I would be lucky to be in Kenosha by 1AM and I told Joe to do what he felt right. But that if I made it on the next flight out, 5PM that AA had me on a wait list for, note wait list, no guarantees despite all that was going on, that I would grab a hotel for the night and get my brother’s keys the next day.

I made the 5 PM flight and was in Chicago and out of the Hertz store with wheels for the drive to Kenosha by 11:30 PM. I decided to go straight to the hospital and booked a room on my mobile app from Priceline. I made it to the hospital at 12:30 AM. Fortunately, my body was still on west coast time and I was not tired, having napped on the 3 hour flight without the once nice meals. Not even pretzels anymore!

When I entered the ICU I was struck by how badly bloated my brother looked. He was on full life support in an induced coma. They say that people in a coma can hear you and so I said, “Get well, little bro. Your big brother is here.”

Those of you who follow my work know I do planetary scale Reiki healing work called DreamShield. Now, I had a very personal Reiki healing to do. As I worked the Rieki I’d learned in LA I saw an angel join their energy to his. I was told my brother would recover fully and not to worry.

Texts and messages of support on FB balanced out the negative effects to Hertz and American Airlines. It was 2 AM when I collapsed into my bed at the hotel on the Kenosha harbor. The view of Lake Michigan was gorgeous for the ten seconds it took me to fall asleep.

The next day when I returned to the hospital my brother was off life support. Though he was still deep in drug induced coma my spirits brightened. My brother had dodged another bullet and was going to live. A personable young Indian doctor told me how the two large ulcers had been cauterized and that he was doing well, but that this was not the optimal surgery. Removing the affected intestines was the preferred surgery. But he explained that my brother had lost so much blood when he was brought in that they chose the least stressful surgery. Then his sweet face turned more serious and he said, “You brother is highly addicted to alcohol and is having such severe withdrawal systems he must be kept in this coma or he will burst his surgery. And if he drinks again the ulcers will kill him next time. This is his last ride on the recovery merry-go-round”

I nodded somberly, recalling how fast my brother had fallen after his summer awakening. “Drinking and awakening don’t mix,”I thought to myself. I could not picture my brother without a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. How he would ever never take a drink again was a mystery. I had donated 100 videos to a recovery radio station run by a human angel named Bradley Quick and learned some things about recovery. In 2011 I had been invited to Nashville to do a DreamShield meditation to end addiction in the world. But could I do for my brother, getting him to quit drinking and drugging, what I’d never been able along with Mom to get our dad to do.

I had a lot of time to ponder these painful thoughts as I watched over my brother. I thought sadly how he had been planning to see me in Sedona for my birthday on September 21st, just two weeks from when all this was happening. My brother began awakening from the old world over the summer of 2013. At first it was exciting to hear him say how amazing it was for him. The new powers and energies he was feeling.

However, the stress of awakening on him became been enormous for his fragile nature of an abused childhood he had never dealt with, unlike me an explorer of many forms of therapy, from EMDR, to Anger Management, to psychotherapy, and finally spirit work . Without any of this grounding his awakening turned dark and set him self-medicating with God knows what. The more I talked to my brother on the phone, as we planned his trip to Sedona for my birthday, the more imbalanced he sounded, and the more anger crept into our talks. I called our mother to tell her of my worries that my brother was falling back into addictions that had ended him in jail in 1990. Next call I confronted my brother, who has an epic dark side when he’s drinking and drugging, that I could tell he was off the wagon and he hung up on me. When he missed our weekly calls twice and was not returning my calls, I worried more.

I recalled the brother who was so unpredictable as a kid, loving to me one moment as my closest pal, then laughing at me behind Dad’s leg as I was beaten to within inches of my life. My guess is my brother suffers from un-diagnosed bi-polar disorder like I believe our father did. It was a common bond with my Dad that I happily never shared.

To top off my brother’s dual nature is the fact he is a Gemini. Often I hear stories of terrible things my brother has been doing and, like my mom, because of his amazing sweet side and sadness, I tended to repress them in the past. Now, I was no longer fooling myself and I could feel something awful was going to happen to my brother, perhaps jail again as in 1990. Perhaps something worse with this new energy of the awakening distorted within.

So when my nephew called about the ulcers and the near death I was not surprised. I did not hesitate on coming. My guides said he needed my healing gifts if he was to live. Now, instead, of a birthday visit to Sedona, here I was on what would become a 1o day visit to help him heal from ulcers predicated by a stressful life under an abusive father, who passed in 2011 while I was in transit on a meditation to Nashville to combat addiction in Nashville. My brother and I had made peace with our father after a heart transplant literally changed him into a better person and gave him an extra 10 years of life.

But the wounds of a childhood of constant 24/7 abuse for 18 years of PST that he’d never faced and lost in booze in drugs were, I could see reading my brother’s comatose face as he moaned and groaned like a ghost, literally ripping him apart. I spoke words of encouragement to my unconscious brother to let go of the past, hoping in his dream like state my words my get past his barriers for dealing with his dark childhood.

My nephew joined the coma-watch after his work day ended. As we sat among the beeping monitors we talked about his father’s painful past. How this rage must be drained if he ever recovered. How meditation and lots of therapy had been my solution and would work for him. My nephew thinks I am little crazy, like my two absentee kids, with all my visions and meditations I do for healing the planet, like the big one that took me all the way to Antarctica for 12.12.12. Now, I could see hope and respect on his handsome young face.

My brother loved his beer but it gave him a headaches. Combined with Excedrin he took to relive those headache the doctor, who said Excedrin should be an illegal drug, explained it had burned two holes in my brother’s stomach. Once again, I saw the pattern of heartless corporations again at work, bleeding ulcers, brought to you by the makers of Excedrin and Miller Light Beer.

A doctor was working for a giant medical corporation called Aurora Healthcare. However, I read the energy of the ER staff. All angelic and caring luckily. My brother was in as good of hands as one can expect today. The virus of corporations hiring heartless workers had not spread here in this ER in Kenosha near the shores of Lake Michigan where my brother and I played each day as kids on the beach to escape our crazy home life.

My nephew said good night and I continued on watching over my coma-brother. Though he was off life support now, he was restless all day. Shortly after his son left my brother became highly agitated in his coma. I closed my Mac, where I was doing my best to continue doing my work for PhiSciences and the hit web series I’d created with Patrick Flanagan. The great scientist had been looking forward to meeting my brother in Sedona. I slowly walked over the ICU bed, where nearly a dozen IV bottles filled him with drugs to keep my brother under and healing the delicate surgery on his ulcers as if in a nightmare where you have that feeling some monster lurks in the dark. My brother was supper stressed looking, gagging suddenly.

Worried, I walked out to the nursing station and told the nurse that something was wrong with my brother. The sweet little nurse a stocky young woman, no taller than 5 feet, humored me and reluctantly came into Fred’s ICU. “Look up there, Mr. Sheetz, ” she said to me like she was talking to a ninny, “That’s a camera. We see all that’s going on. Relax.”

Relax I could not and said, “Look at his breathing. He choking on his tongue. See how he’s straining to breathe? Can’t be good for the cauterization surgery.” I get amazingly calm in tough spots. A survival skill I had to develop when my father lost his marbles every few days. It was a bad sign I was so calm. Big trouble had to be on the way. My body knows these things before my brain.

My brother gagged on his tongue again as if on cue for the young nurse. The veins on his neck showed how difficult a time he was having getting air.

“Look at the oxygen levels, Mr. Sheetz. Your brother blood oxygen is 90%. That’s very good for someone in his condition of losing so much blood a few days ago.” the young nurse said.

“My brother is an amazing swimmer. He is simply breathing deep when he can in the coma and battling the tongue. Maybe you should have left him on full life support.” I said, surprised how clearly I could see this with no medical training while this nurse was in some kind of denial. I did not give a crap about her feelings. My brother’s life was at stake and his agitation was growing worse.

“OK. We will look into it, Mr. Sheetz.” the nurse said finally seeing how the situation looked worse by second. He was sweating now and pale as a ghost.

I stroked his forehead and said, “Take it easy, bro. They’re getting the doctor now. You gotta relax, buddy, or the surgery won’t hold.”

Just then the nurse and I noticed at the same time a tiny dot of blood on the sheet covering Fred, between his legs. The nurse pulled back the sheet… black clotted blood filled the entire bed area from lower torso to his toes!

“On my god!” I shouted. The words pouring out of me like a single word “OHMYGOD!”

“You have to leave the room, Mr. Sheetz!” said the nurse.

I agreed but watched on from the hall as every life support alarm on my brother blared now.

I couldn’t look. My brother was dying. I felt it so profoundly. I walked up the hall and called his son. “The surgery ruptured. Your father is in grave danger.”

“I just got home. Are you sure, Uncle Ken?” said my nephew, in shock having gone through near death with his father 2 days ago for the same ulcers.

As if on cue the PA blared. “Medical emergency room 116. Crash cart team room 116!”

“I’m on my way!” said my nephew, knowing his father’s ICU room number.

“Speed, Joe. If a cop pulls you over, make them escort you. He may not last much longer!”

As I ended the call I began seeing flashes of the good times my bother and I had shared as kids. How he reached his hand across the nightstand to comfort me as our drunken father stumbled through the house after waking us all with his rantings to God. How my brother ran for our father’s help when I fell through the ice in the forest behind our St. Francis backyard.

Then I realized the POVs of these memories were not mine but my brother’s. I spun and saw the glowing spirit of my little brother, age 8. “Get back in your body!” I commanded my brother’s confused little spirit. Weeping, I thrust out my hand. “Here! Take my hand. Let me lead you back.” The dazed spirit of my little brother took my hand and I walked it him up the long hallways and back to the ICU where his 59 year-old body lay near death.

A doctor walked up to me as I watched his little boy self’s spirit slip back into my brother’s body as he convulsed in racking seizures. The doctor looked like a cousin of Kevin Spacey and has the same no-nonsense manner. We eyed each other up in a nanosecond and knew we liked each other. “I’m Dr. Needle — yeah, don’t laugh — the surgeon on this case. You’re the patient’s brother?” To my handshake and nod Dr. Needle added. “Looks grim. Your brother’s odds of living are slim at best. Prepare yourself for him to go into cardiac arrest any second now from. He’s lost almost all the blood in his body. The cauterization I did Tuesday has all ruptured. He’s bled into his intestines and evacuated it out his anus in one gush. Do you give consent to revive him if he flatlines?”

“I give consent for you to do anything and everything to save my brother. I can’t think of a doctor with a better name to be his surgeon than Dr. Needle. You radiate competence. You’ll save my brother. I have 100% faith in you.” I said. I am a huge fan of book called BLINK. BLINK tells of how we form complete assessments of character in the time it takes to blink. It’s in second guessing ourselves that we go wrong.

Dr. Needle smiled at may calm nature and asked, “Would you like to be in the room while we try to stabilize him?”

“Yes.” I said without hesitation despite the horrors I knew I’d be in for.

“OK, wait here. I’ll give you the signal when you can come in.

Soon, Dr. Needle waved me into my brother’s, now crowded, ICU room. I’ve seen ER shows on TV. Now I realized what bad “acting” all that was. Here were a group of nurses, doctors and orderlies, some literally praying with folded hands and closed eyes, for my brother to survive.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Ben Franklin and the Grand Cardinal Cross

On April 22, 2014April 22, 2014 By Ken SheetzIn Uncategorized4 Comments

I took a long healing nap today. Doing lots of sleeping to beat the walking pneumonia. When I woke I was not feeling great and I asked one of my spirit guides, Ben Franklin, who you can clearly see in cloud photo I took yesterday, the start of the Grand Cross, “What is wrong with me, Ben?”

Ben showed me this vision I’ve created here based on what he showed me is happening right now. It’s part of my ongoing vision art series for http://dreamshield.org/ I’ve been doing since first seeing visions like these in 2010. Ben told me to “Hang in there, kid. Big changes in government are streaming in that will affect the world for a long time after the Cardinal Grand Cross is past. Fear not. All will be well… including you, Ken.”

Good info about the Grand Cross: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grand_cross_%28astrology%29

More in from Ben. “The Cardinal Grand Cross is a powerful moment for the people of earth to assume their rightful place as the peacemakers of this solar system. Go out tonight under the stars and make peace among the warring planets.”

SIMON MCGREIDIE

On April 19, 2014May 3, 2014 By Ken SheetzIn 2012, Oneness, The Shift, UncategorizedLeave a comment

By Ken Sheetz

Some say he was needy.
Yet Simon McGreidie
Was something far worse.
Oh, the things he’d curse.
Blackness flew from his lips
When not in the chips
Words far worse than foul.
Expressed by a deepening scowl
He wore night and day
When not winning hay.

Young Simone McGredie
Far worse than needy
Has a lovely wife
Two kids, a happy life.
Having it all is not enough.
So he acts mean, acts tough.
He is best in the world
With emotions swirled.
Driven to endless toil.
Until his blood comes to boil.

Don’t be too hard on the lad.
Being number one was all he had.
Taught from age one
To be a faithful son
In the ways of winning.
From the beginning.
A sleeping warrior of hardened steel.
On the altar of commerce did he kneel.

While still in the womb.
McGreidie was already in his tomb.
A slave to the system.
A most willing victim.

Simone McGreidie
Worse than needy
Toils in the Matrix sound asleep
Endless dead work for to keep.

Duck and Coverage – Staying Real While Seeing the Unreal

On March 29, 2014March 29, 2014 By Ken SheetzIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

“If it can be imagined it is real.” – Pablo Picasso

Pablo, I love you for saying that. It means every thought that enters my mind has validity. And for this wild and Looney Tunes vision, occurring in the wee hours of 3.28.14, when I chuckled myself back to sleep, Picasso’s wisdom comforted me.

Patrick Flanagan and Stephanie Sutton in Love Forever

I told the amazing Patrick Flanagan and Stephanie Sutton of PhiSciences today, as we worked on a breathtaking crowd funder for NewNeurophone that will make the world smarter, unreal in itself, that I don’t think myself nuts when I get nutty visions.

As I explained Pat and Steph, and now share with you, dear reader, the universe is a big place and ordinary Hollywood people like me, and greats like Lucas, who’s never come out in the open like me, are very sensitive and pick up on real energy reaching us from across the stars. Writers are channels. And I would venture to say no idea we ever get is fictional, but real somewhere in the vast cosmos.

But, and a big bite you on the butt “but”, to take your visions as literal reality is a mistake. Why? Because you end up as an egotistical jerk. Such is the dark road to making yourself a prophet or pope of a new religion. And we don’t need any more of religious nonsense! Science and spirit are the way to healthy enlightenment.

And, boy, do I see too much of a serious attitude about visions here in Sedona. A place where the red rocks, laced with iron and crystals, amp dreams to such a profound degree that even the gas station attendants here are psychic to some degree that’s unnerving at times. Enough so I leave Sedona regularly for visits to the real world.

A double-think works to keep me real and humble about the epic visions I get. One that sent me all the way to Antarcitca on 12.12.12. One that keeps me real and humble even in the intensity of Sedona’s many vortexes and in a land filled with Hopi spirits of the dead.

The double think that keeps me real is to simply treat my visions as both real and unreal. This simple trick keeps me grounded, while letting my heart soar. It is something I learned from famed producer Barnet Bain. Barney, as he lets me call him as we became pals in a 2010 New Jersey workshop called Souldrama, is currently working on adapting JONATHAN LIVINGSTON SEAGULL to the screen and produced the awesome film starring Robin Williams, WHAT DREAMS MAY COME.

Last night, I was blessed to be invited to an intimate Sedona inter-dimensional birthday party for the amazing healer and channel Laurel Lyons. Her friends Gaia and Shannon did some healing with crystals bowls that were as exquisite as the large white bowl of Laurel’s. The harmonies were superb. Laurel channeled Pleadians and she gave wisdom for each us as gifts, we lucky party guests. And I love how Laurel is spiritually powered up yet grounded. I met Laurel through my wonderful assistant on the crowd funder, Genevieve Munoz.

A portal opened as the sound healing party guests worked their magic on Laurel and us all. In my mind’s eye I saw a pine cone glowing red-hot. Talk about a healing activation for my pineal gland!

After the great party, filled with good company, wound down and I went home. And all through the night I communed with a race of beings who evolved from ducks! They are from a world called Dalphine, millions of billions of light years from here and in the 6th dimension.

Friendly and straight forward the Dalphines introduced themselves, saying thumbs down for Lucas’s HOWARD THE DUCK but that they love Daffy and Donald Duck as more accurate representations of their species. So this means they have a temper, can be acerbic and love pranks. Quack!

The Dalhine world is like none other we’ve ever seen; a series of flat rectangles floating in a cluster forming a giant cube. They call Dalphine a flock world. It’s an artificial world they built when their original world was destroyed by asteroids, eons ago.

Ohom, my Orion higher self, confirmed the Dalphines are members of The League of Ghost Worlds, here to help humanity avert self extinction. But he warned me the Dalphine’s can be tricksters, and a little, well, Daffy.

I share all this profound silliness with you, while taking non of it too seriously, while looking for the serious message within. Namaste.

Spirit reporting the wackiest vision I ever had for http://dreamshield.org./ Drop by and see the new website.

PLANET OF THE HUMANS

On March 19, 2014March 19, 2014 By Ken SheetzIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them humanity cannot survive.

Dalai Lama

Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them humanity cannot survive.

Dalai Lama

Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them humanity cannot survive. – The Dahli Lama

I tire of scientists comparing humans to monkeys. One may as well compare an abacus to a super computer for brain power.

Ah, but if we humans are honest, and we seldom are, who’s really smarter where it counts? A species that’s slave to a mumbo jumbo of rules domineering males dreamed up long ago, now painfully outdated, for us all to live by? Or a peace-loving species that lives in harmony with nature?

Let’s not do monkeys the disservice and cruelty of experimenting on them in search of humankind’s answers. Heck, it might take 1 billion thick skull humans to make a shift, not 100 like in the more harmonic species of ape. Leave the sweet monkeys out of our issues.

Yes, the sooner we accept we’re on our own figuring a way out of the mess we’ve made if this world, with our so-called super brains, the better off we’ll all be.

THE WIZARD AND THE ICE FAIRY – part 2

On March 15, 2014August 10, 2016 By Ken SheetzIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

“Love is the bee that carries the pollen from one heart to another.”
― Slash Coleman, The Bohemian Love Diaries: A Memoir

By Ken Sheetz

Kyle finishes his afternoon classes in a haze. He stumbles up the hallway and bumps into a jock.

“Watch where you’re walking, nerd,” shouts the red faced jock, towering over Kyle.

“Sorry. I volunteered for a virtual reality thing and I’m…” says Kyle as he’s shoved into a locker by the jock.

“Wait, did you say virtual reality?” said the jock, his interest softening him instantly.

“Not as much fun as you think,” says Kyle, rubbing his sore shoulder.

“Why not? Name’s Bud, BTW,” says Bud, new respect in his earnest eyes.

“Thought it would be like video game for real, but it’s not like I am myself, ” says Kyle.

“Maybe that’s a good thing!” laughs Bud.

But the jock’s humor is lost in Kyle as he adds, “I lose ME. It’s like I’m totally someone else.”

“Dummy. That’s why we play video games. After getting beat up in playing football I love getting lost in my video games where I can’t be hurt,” says Bud.

“That’s the thing. In this virtual reality you smell, feel and hear everything!”

“Whoa! As who? Who are you in this game?” says Bud.

“I’m this old wizard dude named Zylph. I look kinda like Gandalf. His arthritis bugs me. Hurts like hell when Zylph fights dragons and shit,” says Kyle.

“Intense!” shouts Bud.

Three jocks passing in the hall are shocked the star quarterback of the football team is talking to a nerd like Kyle. One of them shouts, “Joining the debate team, Bud?”

Bud just flips them off as he continues talking to Kyle, “Any hot chicks in the game?”

“It’s not a game. I don’t know what to call it. But, yeah. This ice fairy named Antarcticania saved my life. She’s disguised herself as peasant girl to Zylph, who’s clueless she saved his butt from the green dragon,” says Kyle, rubbing his head. These memories are painful.

“Maybe they’d let me take your place?” offers Bud.

END PART 2

PART ONE HERE

THE WISCONSIN PROJECT

On March 11, 2014 By Ken SheetzIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

This is such a powerful vision, it deserves a reblog.

Media, Meditations & Musings

“I’ll chase him round the moons of Nibia and round the Antares maelstrom and round perdition’s flames before I give him up!” (Kahn inStar Trek II: The Wrath of Khan)

By Ken Sheetz

Happy first official day of the new Mayan Age, the golden age, 1/27/14. Since 12.21.12 we have been passing through a 400 day buffer time between ages, something I learned of from respected DreamShield member Gary Christmas, yesterday on Facebook.

We must remain patient despite the fact things will still look messed up on our world for sometime. You see, I was told in Antarctica for 6 days, starting 12.12.12 to help halt the pole shift and transmute all that negative energy into a shift of human consciousness through a series of meditations I was guided to perform there, that the shift into the Golden Age will still take 50 years…

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My Next House

On March 6, 2014March 13, 2014 By Ken SheetzIn Oneness, Uncategorized1 Comment

“Every great architect is – necessarily – a great poet. He must be a great original interpreter of his time, his day, his age.” – Frank Lloyd Wright

By Ken Sheetz

One day I’d like to take a very basic tract home in a humdrum suburb and transform it into a wild place where the laws of space and time vanish the moment you cross the front door’s threshold.

Perhaps the bedroom is in Japan, complete with a view of the Tokyo harbor, while the living room is nestled at the white-hot heart of a red dwarf star.

The garage is Africa, complete with a pride lions and a herd of performing circus elephants, who’ve been released into the wild, but they still like to put on a great show for we silly home owners.

The bath is the entire Pacific ocean, underwater, where a band of Lumarians perform nightly with mermaids to an audience of millions of dolphins who squeak their applause.

The kitchen is Teotihuacan of old when city was a living space port. I’d give guided tours of the galaxy for only just a hug.

Green goats live in the “kids” room, where chanting Buddhist monks milk the goats as they chant, “Ommm-g this milk is very god.” No typo.

The attic is a bat cave where I hang with the dark knight as my Superman self. Each night Bat’s and I go on missions to kick evil’s ass in the humble suburban neighborhood, lost deep in the Matrix.

The flat screen TV is a portal for time and dimension traveling.

Namaste.
http://dreamshield.org

THE WISCONSIN PROJECT

On January 27, 2014March 11, 2014 By Ken SheetzIn Mayan Calendar, Planetary Meditations, The Shift, UFO, Uncategorized1 Comment

“I’ll chase him round the moons of Nibia and round the Antares maelstrom and round perdition’s flames before I give him up!” (Kahn in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan)

By Ken Sheetz

Today is the first sprout of that tree of transformation. There’s much work to do and our world’s stepping away from the brink of self-destruction is not assured unless we take action. Meditation is simply our way of getting guidance. We are on our own. Thems the rules, my fellow earthlings!

THE WISCONSIN PROJECT

I had powerful ET visit last night where I was told by Ohom, my ET spirit guide from the Orion star system, about something called The Wisconsin Project. Ohom told me that my prayers for help as a young boy, suffering child abuse at the hands of a drunken father and the neglect of a brokenhearted mother, were heard at the ET base in Antarctica and answered. There were nightly extractions where I was repaired and given abilities to cope with horrendous physical and mental abuse. I credit all this ET work with the fact anyone not knowing my past will tell you I must have come from a happy home to be so well-adjusted. Well, that was before I began sharing my visions and past sufferings as a child in order to enlighten and free minds.

And Ohom told me I was not the only Sheetz family member saved each night aboard spirit space ships from the League of Ghost Worlds, a collective of worlds that have gone extinct and are seeking to help humanity to not follow in their footsteps before we attain the ability to live outside the bounds of time and space as they do with grace and ease. You see all worlds go extinct eventually. It’s inevitable. The sad extinctions are the self-extinctions. A path we as a species are on right now and the ETs we have seen as angels, since ancient times, are here to help us divert from for our sake and for all the creatures on our blue marble in space.

So last night, after conferring deeply with Ohom, I went into meditation at 3:13 AM, to take my first trip of the Golden Age outside my body. I left my body in Sedona after saying prayers, just like I did as a child: The Hail Mary, The Our Father and The Act of Contrition. Though not a practicing Catholic today, these prayers remain magic to my child mind and work magic for me in meditation.

Once again the prayer words rang true, and I was soon rocketing out of my body in Sedona and high above the earth. I started heading down into the green aurora field lighting the skies above Antarctica. I touched down before a tall mountain with no foothills that abruptly met the flat as a pancake ice sheet . A dot of green light appeared at the top of the tall mountain that grew downward into a slit of intense lime green light.

I walked through the green light slit in the mountain and found myself inside a vast hangar, safe from the severe cold I was beginning to notice even in my indestructible astral body, complete with ethereal armor . Spaceships and pilots were everywhere, in a scene almost out of Star Wars. I realized this hangar was the real deal, a channeled message to George Lucas. No Tan Tans in sight though.

None of the aliens and humans took much notice of me. Finally I came to a spaceship that my father, a great mechanic while he was alive, to my shock was happily repairing. Overjoyed to see me, Dad dropped his tools clanking and scrambled up from underneath the spaceship, much like an X-wing fighter Ala Star Wars, to give me one of his famed bear hugs. But I accepted his hug without returning any love. My dad’s young face, he looked about 27 now, despite passing at age 82, looked pained at my rejection.

“Sorry for not letting you know Zylph is one of my higher selves, Ken,” my father said sincerely. Sincerity I never heard from him in life. Nonetheless, these sincere words were strange first words. I’ve not seen or spoken to my dead father in visions for a couple of years now. Not for lack of trying! Ohom had told me my Dad was far away on a mission I’ve yet to learn of. Stay tuned. Now here he was back in my life again, without a word.

My young dead father’s face showed he knew how much that deception had upset me, once I deduced Zylph’s higher-self connection to my father. Now, Zylph’s acerbic sense of humor made sense. My father in life was a dark comic who never found a stage, unless you count his bar escapades.

“Yeah, Dad, That was damn wrong on so many levels I don’t know where to start. Why? I had made my peace with you. No need to hide behind your higher Zylph self just because you skipped the galaxy for a few years. The whole thing makes me wary of all Zlyph shared with me about removing the old to make way for the new. It seriously messed with my head like when you’d torment me as a kid. Seems you are still prone to mind games even in the afterlife,” I said, angry steam coming from my breath in the cold hangar, where spaceships came and went through the green crevice in the hollow mountain’s face.

“We don’t change, much as you might think when we die, sonny boy. But I am trying. Trying damn hard. Don’t let my screw up make you doubt Zylph. He’s me, but from a couple billion years in the future and has a lot to share. Yes, Zylph has a powerful dark side like me, but it’s in way more in check two billion years from now. Harnessed for good. We all need the dark and light to run this universe. And Zylph loves you like I do, ” said my dead father, wiping the old familiar grease from his hands to avoid my glare.

Ohom, a 7 foot tall Orion who has been chief spirit guide to me since 2010, quietly joined us, seeking to break the cold tension, as thick as the ice sheet of Antarctica.

“Your father, though in spirit form now, remains divinely human. William seeks daily to better integrate his bipolar natures expressed in one body, Ken,” said Ohom in his usually calm and soothing voice.

“Ohom, I’ve trusted you completely since 2010, letting you use my body and speak through me in videos and every day life! I asked you if Zylph, a new ET spirit seeking to guide me, could be trusted. And you said, ‘Yes, Zylph has much to share about planetary mass media and life,'” I said almost in tears, my heart pained this great being had allowed my father’s deception. “Some of the rage of my father leached back into me through Zylph. I suspect it destroyed an important relationship I was exploring with a housemate I adored in Sedona.”

“Zylph is his own being in his own right, just as I am the high self of you, so it is with Zylph and your father. My answer stands true, Zlyph has much to share to help save your world. But I see now by the profound pain in your heart how much this conscious omission of mine has cost us all. Worst of all, the love of someone dear to you that you sought to win was lost as result of my mistaken actions. I should have told you of Zylph being a higher self of your father. I hope you will accept my deepest apology for concealing the whole truth from you, Ken, on behalf myself and The League of Ghost Words, ” said Ohom, his blue wings sagging a bit at his shame.

“I promise to never withhold the whole and complete truth from you again, my Ken-Self. You see, I wanted so much, too much, to have you see how far you father’s spirit will evolve into the great Zylph. So much so that my better judgement was affected. I, like your father, like me/you, am also not perfect,” said Ohom so sincerely and lovingly that my spirit brightened instantly.

“If you brought me here to this secret Antarctica base as an apology, Ohom and Dad… Well, pretty damn cool! Come here, you SOB!” I motioned to my father and gave him a bear hug back to let he and Ohom know all was forgiven.

“So you’ll listen to Zylph again?” my father cautiously asked, nervous he’d blown the connection with his well-intentioned if misguided deception for good.

“I need to think on that Gordian knot some more, Dad. But, probably. With knowing who Zylph is maybe I can put some filters in place against the contagion of your ancient rage,” I said, my worries of Zylph possessing me already fading. The pain in my heart over the deceptions melting, like the ice upon the spaceships my dad was repairing in the hanger’s relative warmth.

Ohom joined in the hug and the three of us, my dead father, now a quantum spaceship mechanic, me and the lovable 7 foot tall blue angel-like Orion, remained in embrace without words until I found myself wrapped snug in my cover in bed and back in my body in Sedona.

I thought, pulling up the covers in my cozy Sedona bed, about a dream I’d had a few nights ago about Zylph, who is from an Arabic-like world in the Antares star system 2 billion years from now. And how he and a team of other ET Arabs fearlessly rescued me from prison pit of despair over the loss of my housemate, their white robes flowing as red para sails burst forth to save me. And so I finally forgave Zylph, my father’s future higher self. In that blissful moment I went to peacefully to sleep. If sleep is what you can call what I do anymore.

Many more dreams of others people like me came in one of the most exhausting nights of my life. Dreams of many being saved from child abuse by the ETs of The League of Ghost Worlds and The Wisconsin Project came to me like old memories of childhood playgrounds on other planets. Comforted that I now have an ET father, looking out for me as penance for his sins in life in many forms, the most prominent being Zylph from Antares, I finally found dreamless rest nestled in the powerful red rocks of Sedona on this first early morning of the Golden Age.

PhiSciences Dr. Patrick Flanagan and his amazing wife Stephanie Sutton — PhiSciences.com’s Dr. Patrick Flanagan and his amazing wife Stephanie Sutton

Visit DreamShield.org to see my meditations in Antarctica and the work I am doing to record the amazing super scientist Patrick Flanagan, of PhiSciences.com who also speaks to Ohom and considers him a valuable spirit guide.

Last here is the link to an amazing new crowd funder in prelaunch where you can volunteer and be in the inner circle in bringing an amazing device called the Neurophone, proven in numerous university tests since 1957, to boost intelligence. I am a happy user of the device and it greatly has improved my meditation and writing!

THE WIZARD AND THE ICE FAIRY – Part One

On January 21, 2014August 10, 2016 By Ken SheetzIn DreamShield, Planetary Meditations, Uncategorized3 Comments

“The notion that science and spirituality are somehow mutually exclusive does a disservice to both.”– Carl Sagan

By Ken Sheetz

Once upon an alternate universe, a wizard named Zlyph did battle with an evil green dragon who had slain his king and queen while he was on a quest to a far away land.

The master-less wizard fought the green dragon with a magical ice sword to the highest minaret of the castle.

“Why do you persist, wizard? Your king and queen are ash. This castle is now my realm!” bellowed the dragon, blasting a gout of green flame.

“Guilt for being far away when you made your sneak attack compels me, foul one. Vengeance for King Ior and Queen Ilsa!” said the wizard Zylph. But he tripped over a fallen knight’s armor and was knocked out.

The green dragon cackled as he loomed over the unconscious wizard, “Too easy! Farewell, wizard.” The green dragon drew in a deep breath and prepared to incinerate Zylph.

But before the wicked dragon could strike a fairy queen made of ice leaped from the wizard’s sword.

“Dragon, you should be ashamed of yourself!” the ice fairy queen shouted.

The dragon reeled back a few paces and said, “Ashamed of what?”

“Ashamed of a rage and fury that has taken enough lives. Go now in peace and leave this wizard to mourn the loss of his tribe,” said the ice fairy queen.

“I, I’ve met none such as you in the worlds I travel. I sense no fear in you whatsoever. You have extinguished me rage, my flame… But I can still crush you in my jaws!” the green dragon snapped at the ice fairy queen but she simply turned to snow flakes that reformed a few feet away.

“Do not try my patience, dragon. You shall not have the wizard for he is a savior to my people. I guard him forever. Fly for your life now, or face my icy wrath!” said the ice fairy queen.

“I shall depart and leave this old fool to you. My work is done here. But before I take wing there is a price for my leave,” said the dragon.

“Ask and I will consider, dragon.”

“Your name, fairy. What is it so that I may curse your name in my exile from the castle I rightly won in combat?” said the green dragon.

“I am known as Antarcticania, queen of the Orions. But know this, dragon. Curse me and your belly will turn to ice and you will perish in an instant. Be gone. You waste my time. I must tend to the wizard Zylph, savior of my people. Fly!” said Antarcticania setting loose blizzard atop the castle.

The dragon leaped into the winter storm bellowing in rage, “You have not seen the last of me, witch!”

The wizard blinked his eyes as he awoke in the king’s bed. He rubbed the knot on the back of his head, remembering he had been knocked cold in his battle with dragon.

“How in King Ior’s name did I get in the king’s bed?” said the wizard, not expecting and answer and shocked when the ice fairy queen stepped through the door. But she wore an enchantment that made her look like a simple peasant woman, through which her inner fairy beauty shone through like the sun behind a heavy laden snow cloud.

“Please lay back on rest, brave wizard. You’ve had a nasty blow to the head and may be suffering forgetfulness of your amazing defeat of the green dragon,” said the ice fairy, taking no credit for saving the wizard.

“Last thing I remember was tripping over something and conking my thick skull,” said the wizard laying back down from dizziness.

“Perhaps, great one, you have cast a spell over yourself to cause you to battle when your wits are affected,” smiled the ice fairy.

“Where is my ice sword, fair one?” said the wizard.

“You impaled the dragon with the ice sword and he flew off in a rage of hellfire ice sword and all,” said the ice fairy, keeping the secret she and the ice sword were one from the dazed wizard.

“Hmm. I can be scrappy. I guess my instincts took over. But I would never drag myself to the royal chamber to slumber,” grumped the wizard.

“You passed out after defeating the dragon and I carried you here. I meant no disrespect to your king and queen, god rest their souls,” said the ice fairy.

“Who are you? And why are you here when all perished in the castle?” said the wizard, his suspicion growing by the second.

“I am Anna, a simple severing girl of Queen Ilsa’s. I hid deep in the castle’s secret chambers during the dragon attack, ” smiled the ice fairy queen, not revealing her royal standing.

As the ice fairy smiled, the walls of the castle melted before the shocked wizard’s eyes. The wizard transformed into a 20-year-old college student, Kyle Rodger, sitting before computer screen where the green dragon was battling the ice fairy.

“Thanks, Mr. Rodgers, that will be all for today. Don’t want to keep you from your classes,” said a lab tech as she removed electrodes from Kyle’s head.

End Part One