Paradise Lost in LA

On By Ken SheetzIn UFO, Uncategorized1 Comment

“The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven..”
― John Milton, Paradise Lost

By Ken Sheetz

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Hypnotherapist Peter Bedard CreateYourHealth.com

Unless I had Peter Bedard as witness no one might ever believe all that happened to me on MLK Day.  Monday, as posted on my page on Facebook, I was set to have myself put under deep hypnosis by Peter, who I trust, obviously, as I’ve never allowed myself put under before.  In advance of the session I prepared a series of questions based on some of the tough skeptics I’d faced on Facebook in fund-raising that got me to Antarctica.  Peter would ask:

1. Were there ETs, German ghosts and Gods really guiding you to the South Pole to help save earth from a Mayan pole shift or was it all in your imagination?

2. Are you seeking fame or cult status from any of this work you are doing?

3. (Assuming it’s all legit as I feel it is) Does the Orion Ohom who speaks through you have any wisdom or warning to share about humanity’s future post 12/21/12?

4. What is the power behind the 24 meditation videos you are posting to http://dreamshield.org to help humanity?

The idea: Film me under hypnosis and share all, no matter the results to challenge the naysayers.  But in the days since leaving Antarctica on 12.20.12, leading to the visit with Peter back home in LA many odd things began to happen, phones going dead, ATMs taking my credit card then going blank, forcing me to travel 7,000 miles without cash or credit, PayPal strangely disabled upon my return with messed up balances, cooking “accidents”, lost luggage, friends acting like strangers and strangers like friends, getting super low on funds but getting by just fine without money and more.

But, stubborn person I am, I pushed on ignoring all signs to do the hypno interview with Peter.   On Monday morning I showered, dressed, gathered my camera gear and headed off in a car a friend has kindly borrowed to me and for whom I am house sitting: Successful actor/insurance agent Tom Katsis.  It’s been my car all month, a treat for me over the cost renting them as needed as usual.  Tom has almost single-handed created the soft landing for my meteoric return from Antarctica after mounting a film production in the most remote and expensive place to travel to on earth.  The meditation videos would not be posting until Spring without him and the way things are going with my electronics who knows if they might have vanished forever by now.

Despite the money from the crowd I am personally out of pockets thousands of dollars for unexpected costs.  I’ve never been financially weaker in my life.  But I don’t worry about money like I used to as I continue to press on in the editing of the 24 meditation videos in the solitude of Tom’s home.  At least I have gained that much faith in the beings helping me.

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Lucifer Takes His Throne Milton’s “Paradise Lost”

Back to MLK day.  As I reached the Silver Lake area my Android phone’s navigation voice began to lead me in circles.  I kept ending up back on Angus Street.  Angus, as followers of my work know, is a Scottish earth angel spirit badass enforcer of the Galactic council protecting of our world as we ascend.  Peter was not available to guide me to his office despite repeated phone calls to help lead me out of the 30 minutes of the Angus-loop I was strangely trapped in.  It’s amazing how dependent we are on these cell phones for navigation now.

Silver Lake seemed to have no gas stations to ask directions where the Android guided me.  Worse though, I felt a cloud of confusion come over me.  A growing fear something was wrong about all this.

Peter finally rang me on the phone and told me the Android navigator had led me in circles 20 minutes away from his offices.  He had reached me just as the Android led me a dead-end on a tiny street, so narrow I could barely turn Tom’s Saab around.  Problem was navigation uses lots of juice and now my phone was running out of power.  Peter guided me all the way to the 110 for Pasadena and then I lost him.

The Android navigation was all I had again.  Suddenly every electric system in the car began to give signals of failure with a cacophony of beeping in concert with all the emergency lights, smack in the middle of the 110.  I pulled off an exit instantly and then the car completely conked out.  I coasted off the ramp and was stuck on a hill unable to push the car to a safe spot.

I’d had lots of coffee, as I do when I edit, before heading out and the hour in the car meant I needed to relieve myself.  There was not a bush in sight and I did my best to hide my business from cars going by.

Tom told me the nine-year old car might act up as he turned over the keys to me, but I never suspected anything like this, never experienced anything like the beeps and lights that sent me here on a side road called Stadium Way.  No worries.  There was AAA coverage for emergency service on the car Tom had assured me before he left town and I dailed the first AAA number I found.  “Closed for MLK day” the voice mail said.  My phone was nearly dead.  I decided to try Peter again while still could.

He explained the Android had taken me further away and that I was now 30 minutes away from him and that he had a client in 40.  The trip was a total waste.  But he was willing to cancel the appointment and come get me as I had no cash for tow trucks and still no operating credit card.

As I waited for Peter I decided to turn the Saab ignition and it started up smooth as silk.  I called Peter and we agreed it was too late for the filming and, besides, I told Peter, this all felt too weird to be coincidence.  I told him it felt like the ETs were unhappy with the idea of this interrogation of myself I was trying to do.

Heading back to Tom’s place in Sherman Oaks, the incredible sense of disorientation began to lift when suddenly the lights and beeps started again.  This time I was ready, put the car into neutral and coasted the car, flashers going.  I was coasting slower and slower.  I broke a sweat as there was no shoulder to the 101 here.  Lucky there was enough slope I made it past the insanely dangerous part of the 101.

The Saab coasted onto the ramp for Santa Monica Blvd and I pulled onto a shoulder, just big enough for one car in distress.  Now, there somehow was full battery power so the flashers worked.  LAPD was Johnny on the spot and the officer asked what my plans were.  I said the car was behaving erratically, sounded awful and I would call AAA.  All the time worrying to myself how low my cell phone power was to in fact make such a call.  The cop asked if I knew my coordinates and, having to think a moment through my confusion, I finally told him, ” Santa Monica and the 101.”  Then he was off and I was alone with Tom’s Saab.

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Paradise Lost

I opened the hood and the motor fan was racing. The engine heat was intense.  I checked the oil, full.  Checked the coolant, boiling. Nothing to do but call AAA I decided.  So I dug into Tom’s papers and found the national toll-free AAA number.  The operator asked for Tom’s card number and I explained it was not in the car..  The operator coldly explained there was nothing they could do without Tom’s ID.  I said, “Just look up his name and address and find his number on your computer.”  The operator calmly said “No, sir –” just as the Android went dead.

I had been editing for 3 weeks solid since getting back to LA.  All to get the cool footage from Antarctica, that includes an amazing rescue at sea and wedding, up on Youtube.  And it has paid off.  News services are broadcasting clips now in 180 markets.  But in my rush to make the editing happen I’ve burned the last of my cash reserves.  I sat on that lonely ramp without power, without money, wondering what the hell this was all about and how I’d ever solve this one.

Then I surrendered to the moment,  “Sorry I doubted you guys.  This wasn’t about proving something to doubters on FB but my own doubts,” I said the blue LA sky as cars whisked past on the 101.  A joyous flow I was now out of synch with.  Another hour passed, again my middle-aged old kidneys got the better of me and I used the Saab as cover.  I tried the Saab again and it started up a bit then conked out again.  Now, I could tell that if the Saab cooled a little more it would run again, but not enough to get me home the way it sounded.

If I was to rescue Tom’s car from a city tow truck and the impound lot that would cost a small fortune I had to take action.  I could see a few shops at the top of the Santa Monica Blvd ramp that looked open despite the MLK holiday.  I  decided to risk leaving Tom’s car to try to find a phone. How I’d know anyone’s number without the Android I had no idea.  But I slung my camera bag over my shoulder and made my way along the treacherous dirt path after the emergency asphalt ended.  An expedition more dangerous that anything I’d experienced in the eight days of expeditions in Antarctica.

I entered a copy store and the women running it were busy.  Persian was my guess, fearing a language barrier might be an issue.   Finally I caught the eye of a young lady who spoke perfect English.  Yes, I was back in America after all.  I explained my situation and she offered me her Iphone to call.  But I didn’t know anyone’s number by heart in this speed dial era.  I asked if I could use the PC on the store counter and she kindly agreed.

Soon I had Peter Bedard on the phone, Peter, who as you can see in blogs below was the savior of the Antartica boat trip.  But all the snafus with PayPal and a deadbeat donor of a $1,111 commitment, who I could strangle by this point for all the trouble he’s caused me, had still left Peter holding the bag on $444.  So when he asked me what I needed, and that to me was a tow, he said the most he could do for me is get me back to base in Sherman Oaks.  I accepted knowing there I’d have the web and be able to charge up my usually trusty Android phone for help.

I was a miffed that someone I was trying to promote by subjecting myself to hypnosis, something I’ve never let anyone do, was unwilling to pay for a tow, especially after all he’d done for Antarctica. But, deciding that was all ego, I kept my big mouth shut.  I told Peter I needed to move the Saab for that plan to work, to buy time to solve the AAA situtation.  I asked Peter to call me back at the copy lady’s Iphone number in 10 minutes and hurried back to the Saab.

Making my way back along the dangerous dirt path again, I hopped in the now simmering Saab interior and thankfully it rumbled to life.  I edged the Saab into ramp traffic  and up the short bit of the ramp until  a huge white pickup truck blocked my way.  The damn truck was not making the legal right turn and the Saab was ready to stall out again.  It would be in a rotten spot that would get the Saab towed for sure.  So I laid on the horn with a sharp blast.  The white pickup truck moved about a foot and stopped again.  I looked around and could see no sign of a no right turn sign so this time I honked to horn continuously.

Finally,  just as the Saab was about to stall, the anal retentive trucker raced off.  But a block ahead the white was blocking the quick left turn I needed to make in the Jon’s foods parking lot!  But as I got close the driver saw me in the mirror, emergency lights flashing, engine smoking and got what was happening and cleared the way for me to rumble past in the car that seemed to be falling apart by the second.

The Saab shuddered as I killed the ignition and coasted into a parking place.  Now I realized how badly dehydrated I was and hurried into the Jon’s store to grab a quick water.  Nothing was quick for me this MLK day.   A huge line was at every counter.  I said screw and walked out with the water.  If anyone stopped me I’d explain I was going to pass out from being on the road for 4 hours now, lost in LA.  But no one did.

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Lucifer’s Fall from Milton’s “Paradise Lost”

I hurried back for copy shop and a heard a loud angry voice behind me that sounded a drunk, “I’ll kill your mother!”  I turned around no one was there.  This had turned from freaky to scary.  But I realized I was slow in turning around.  Could have just been a drunk prankster.  I chose to think so.  My guides put me in odd situations but they are always gentle and it didn’t fit to make a death threat on my innocent 82-year-old mother.

Inside the copy shop the young lady smiled sadly and said I’d missed my friend’s call.  I asked if I could try to reach Perter and use her Iphone.  The young Persian happily agreed, getting a kick out of this like a living reality show.  I thought about America and what jerks we are to Iranian people.  I’ve never met one I didn’t like.  They are great people with a culture far older than ours.  All this energy came through from her.  The water had refreshed me.  I got Peter on the second try and he was on the way.

I thanked the ladies of the copy store and exchanged contact info.  I wanted to be in touch.  The older woman asked me who I was and what I was doing stuck here.  I explained the filming of the hypnosis and the beings I wanted to go deeper exploring.  She said, “Take all this trouble as a sign to maybe not look so deep, my friend.”  I nodded yes and could have kissed her for her kindness she and what must have been her daughter had shown me and hurried back to the Jon’s parking lot.

Soon Peter was there in his sporty yellow car.  I hopped in and we rode in tense silence for Sherman Oaks, 20 miles away.  Peter has a huge heart and I knew he was feeling bad about not being able to help me more than this ride back to base.  So I broke the silence with a recap of all the weird stuff I was going through.  Peter, who runs holistic business called CreateYouHealth that’s packed with good info, asked, “Why do you think the beings don’t want you to be hypnotized?”

I thought as Peter, a good driver like most spirit people I meet, gracefully dodged traffic up the 101 for my home base in Sherman Oaks, the part of LA I always feel at home in.   I answered, “The Angus galactic spirit is angry about my lack of faith after all he and the beings have seen and done with me.  I feel like I am being fucked with.  Punished like some kid and I don’t like it.”

Rather than looking at me like I was nuts Peter said, “You know, you can tell the beings that treatment is totally unacceptable to you.  I know I did when they were messing with me.”

Tears welled in my eyes.  Here was a brother doing all for me he could.  Soon I was home and I gave Peter the best hug in a car I could manage.

I won’t bore you with the hellish 2 more hours of getting AAA to call Tom in Asia and then AAA losing the reference info and my having to go through the whole authorization again.  The whole time it felt like the corporate shell game of taking our money and then making it difficult to use the services when you need them.  I’ve done million dollar real estate deals that were less complicated than getting a tow as a guest car user.

After this painful 2 hours I needed to get myself back to the Saab again some 20 miles away.  I called a few friends having my phone back in service again.  In no time at all a beautiful light worker and friend came to my rescue and we made it back as the AAA tow truck just before they were ready to leave.

When I was all over my amazing friend offered dinner at El Tacito.   I was trembling from the stress of the day and her solution was to hold my hand as we each downed big glasses of frosted amber Mexican beer.  We had fun talking about the Shift.  A fine end to a day of being lost in the Paradise of LA.

BTW, I am still way out of synch with this reality.  Peter sensed it and said I need to realign my energy.  In other words, I am causing the trouble not my guides.  I am not quite in this dimension.  In fact,  I just reproofed this entire blog as what I had worked for 2 hours on in the second draft just vanished.   So apologies if there are typos.  Sigh….

And will I go for another try with Peter on the hypo therapy session?  Yes, if I can truly know I believe in my heart all this is true and more than more overactive imagination, name of my production company in honor of a loving, if misguided, grandmother, who never tired of trying to break my belief in my visions as a child.

Help Me Finish the Antarctica Energetic

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By Ken Sheetz
The idea was simple. Spirit told me to give people something they could do about the fears of the Mayan pole shift. Offer the people a meditation in Antarctica on 12.12.12, 11 days ahead of the dreaded date, to shift the pole shift from catastrophe to a positive evolution of humankind.

Simple idea, but, wow, it was an expensive, time-consuming journey to a place as remote as Antarctica.  Add to my level of difficulty that it was for something as esoteric as 24 meditations on a magic date, all for something as audacious as helping save a world with the millions of others light workers awake like me out there looking to save the billions of our fellow humans still asleep.

This all added up to the fact that no investor would finance this adventure. No bank. No film studio. My spirit guides said repeatedly that’s how they wanted it.   They want this mission to be financed by the people via the new crowd funding.  Why I asked spirit and the answer came back that a each person’s donation was to spirit a vote for change, for a better tomorrow.

It was a hard journey. One day, as I reached the tip of Argentina I had no money for food or a hotel. But I did not fear that the crowd and my firends would get to Antarctica. Instead of fearing, I worked 36 hours straight without sleep in the lobby of a friendly hotel.  And in that final 36 hours WE raised over $4,000 on our IndieGoGo for the coolest meditation ever. WE. We the people.

When the final donation came in from sponsor Peter Bedard, I raced up the hills Ushuaia to the boat agent’s office only to be told it was too late.  The boat manifest was closed but there was another boat leaving on 12.23.12.  I was crushed.  How could we come so far and miss the date?  What would happen to the world?  Spirit was silent… Then the boat agent’s phone rang.  The Antarpply boat company had decided to add me to the manifest after all.

And on 12.12.12 precisely, I reached the eternal winter shores of Antarctica.  I performed the 24 planetary meditations my spirit guides gave me, one for each time zone of the world. I’d never done more than one planetary meditation in a day. Looking back on the videos I am amazed how I fought through the exhaustion to make them all happen on 12.12.12.

Amazingly, in the process of all this on the last meditation a rescue at sea happened of 12 people trapped on the Antarctic ice and I caught all on video. It was the first manifestation of the new age for me. I had just performed 24 meditations to rescue the earth from the Mayan pole shift as your representative of the crowd, for which I was so honored. Here it was really happening. And to find that two young lovers who were here in Antarctica to be married were saved, well, does it get any better?

Now, I am once again running low on cash reserves, of course having been editing non-stop since getting back to LA like an Antarctica Santa on Xmas Day with my gifts of new knowledge the vast ET presence of Antarctica had supplied me with. — Lots of public speaking for me ahead.  — I am traveling light because my luggage had been confiscated in Mexico because a crazed festival transport service had let me down.

There were many unexpected expenses. Angels don’t seem to worry about money like we do, like I used to. So I will do as I have been taught to do when low on money, to ask you, you the people help me finish the 24 meditation videos with small donations, in amount you won’t miss from your pocketbook, and for which angels will thank you, at http://dreamshield.org

How 12.12.12 Almost Did Not Happen – Part Two

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refelections in antarctica

The most amazing part of my Antarctica trip is yet to come, when the changes we meditated about begin to take place in the world. – Ken Sheetz

By Ken Sheetz

So when last I left you I was stuck in the Buenos Aires airport, ready to be deported in 3 hours if I did not come up with $160 for the 10 year travel visa fee.  Normally, with all the fans of my work, family and friends, $160 is a non-issue.  All my cards were maxed out getting down here.  I cursed myself for such crazy planning.  All the work of getting down here blown over $160?

Then a Copa airline agent came to my rescue.  She escorted me to a departure area of the airport where I had internet.  Now, my mother’s insistence I get that new Apple power cord talked about in the last blog was suddenly a Godsend.  But I was 5 hours ahead of LA.  At 6AM Buenos Aires time that was 1 AM back in my fan and film friend base.  2 AM in Vegas and my mom has no concept of PayPal or computers.  So thought of my 75 year old stepmother, who I had taught to web to in Wisconsin.   I waited a bit had a coffee and called my Step mom, Jackie, a sweetie, a 5 AM Wisconsin time.

Well, at 5 AM Jackie is not such a sweetie.  Who would  be?  And as it turned out she was having a rough time with her internet in the remote area of Bear Hole Road of Jefferson.  Jackie was a bear when I suggested she make her way to town an hour away.  Sensing I was going nowhere and Jackie was just getting upset I decided to call on my lovely client and ex girlfriend Karen Kennedy.

Karen is a jogger who rises early to run along the Chicago lakefront before she heads to her beautiful salon in the former Sears Tower.  Karen was still in bed at 5:30 AM Chicago time when I called.  But she’s a world traveler and understands the pinches one can get into.  Karen happily agreed and has a PayPal and I instantly had my money to enter Argentina without being deported.

But after finally passing through customs a was overcome with exhaustion.  The flight was 36 hours and then the crazy 3 hours of raising travel visa money and the stress caught up with me.  I went to the baggage area and only one of my two suitcases had made it to Argentina with me.  The other went to my original destination of Rio.  Well, at least part of my energy made it to Rio

I wandered the airport like a zombie.  I had no hotel reservations and only about $60 in cash.  I found an airport cafe and booked a room for one night at what Bookings.com said was a bed and Breakfast.  I had no idea of what the exchange rate was for the hotel or what I was paying.  I just was looking for a place to crash.

After brunch I went to an airport rest room and put on some fresh clothes.  I figured if I was going to get started in Buenos Aires without much cash I should look my best.  This had been the toughest pack of luggage in my life.  It was a humid 85 degrees in Buenos Aires and I had to dog through the sweaters and warm clothes I had packed for Antarctica to find a nice pair of shorts and clean shirt.

I went out to the taxi stand and checked the rate to get to the bed and breakfast called Hotel Plaza Central Canning nearby.  I now only had $35 US and no one wanted to take me for less than$50.  The last time I traveled the dollar was strong.  Now it was a weak as I was for lack of sleep.  I went back in the airport and tried to do some crowd funding.  But it was still early AM in LA and a weekday.  Not crowd funding prime time.

I was so tired I joined a band of stranded travelers sleeping next to an airport pedway sleeping on a marble slab.  Now, you’d think a marble slab could not be comfy but you’d be surprised when you are ready to pass out.  I slept for I don’t know how long and awakened in a stupor.  Totally disoriented I peered open my eyes seeing people floating past me.  “Am I in heaven?” me fevered brain said.  Then I remembered where the hell I was.  I headed back to the airport cafe and even a strong Argentina coffee could not resuscitate me.

Then an angel said, “Get out of the airport.  It’s a vortex and it’s energy is a trap.”  I swear if not for learning to listen to spirit I would have reported myself to airport security to have me shipped back to US as a nut job.  But I listened.  Again the horde of taxi drivers descended on me.  This time I found a guy who would take $35 to get me to the bed and breakfast I had booked.

As the taxi left the airport I felt the confusion and craziness of the vortex pass.  I was thinking clear and wide awake.  The angel had been right.  But the driver was getting lost finding the city of Canning and I was getting a weird vibe.

To be continued in how 12.12.12. Almost Did Not Happen – Part 3

How 12.12.12 Almost Did Not Happen – Part One

On By Ken SheetzIn 2012, Mayan Calendar, Mt. Shasta, Oneness, Planetary Meditations, The Shift, UFO4 Comments

no fear no doubts

If you want to conquer fear, do not sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy. – Dale Carnegie

By Ken Sheetz

There were at least 10 times on this trip when I thought I was stuck on the road to Antarctica.  The ego is a scared little bunny.  It shouted in my head, “You fool.  Depending on crowd funding for such and expensive trip!  You are going to die a homeless man in a foreign country!”

I didn’t get mad at my ego — egos being no more than organic device to keep us safe and alive when it comes down to it — but it got very noisy in Buenos Aires when I barely had taxi money after an unexpected $160 travel visa.  Again ego became deafening with fear soaked worry in another tight spot where I made the best of it working all night on the web in an Argentina pizza parlor not able to afford a hotel.

The trip was so tight I was constantly meditating to overcome ego fears #1, “You’re going to humiliated calling family for help.  You’ll  never live down not reaching Antarctica by 12.12.12 in the LA and Sedona spirit communities.”

But each time my ego mechanisms flared into protective action it was meditation that put me back in touch with my ET angel guides would calmly reassure me, “When the opposing energies, putting up huge psychic resistance to the change 12.12.12 will help bring about, think you beaten… you will triumph.”

After one meditation when I was stressing over a $2,000 hotel bill for two weeks in Buenos Aires when I was expending more than I was taking in.  This time I was given a spirit guide named Hans.  Hans, a Nazi who in life had fled to Argentina after being part of a failed plot to assassinate Hitler, told me to hold my head high and be positive in the face of fear.

You can hear me channel Hans in this video.  This is one of the first times I have shared channeling of a ghost.

After 2 months on the road filled with 15 hour days of crowd funding,I had finally reached the southern most city in the world, Ushuaia Argentina… on a one-way ticket.  I had beaten all the ego fears and raised $5,000, and a little more in value in barter, totaling $12,000 on the very first crowd funding for a meditation.

A meditation scheme that had angered some for it’s bold intent to shift the negative energy of the long predicted Mayan pole shift of to instead foster a cool change in human consciousness.  One irrational guy on FB accused me of trying to start a cult centered around myself.  I laughed it off: “A cult of one?”  This was a solo meditation after all!

For months I had ignored the call and hung out on the cool Malibu ranch I was doing social media for all through 2012.  The distance, the cold, the cost seemed impossible so I kept trying to do the polar meditation work remotely.  But the guides would tell me repeatedly I must physically be near the energy field on 12.12.12 of the South Pole in Antarctica.  Somehow, also the crowd voting with their contributions was part of the energetic and I was not allowed to just call on some of my wealthy pals to fund this trip.

I remained resistant to spirit running my life.  Stubborn to have my ego in control on my life.  Finally, to get me heading south for Antarctica my guides literally pushed me from a comfy lux assignment in Malibu at Great Spirits Ranch with everything from sinus infections, where I literally became allergic to the ranch, to being punched in the face and threatened with guns by a film shoot visiting the ranch.

So I began the research for travel to Antarctica.  To my shock I found nearly 40,000 tourists visit Antarctica each of our winters, which is their summer, December 21st to March 21st, on expedition cruises.  Pricing was a small fortune, about $11,000 a person on average.  So adding air cost and hotels I was looking at a $20,000 needed!  My total savings in September when the call from the spirit guides became deafening was a negative $350 in my over-drafted checking account.

Ignoring the spirits telling me crowd funding was a key factor in this mission I started calling my film backers from Chicago, but I could not get any interest despite having made now three excellent docs.  Why?  Because despite how cool they are they have not even broken even on cost.  A wildly successful of a real estate broker and builder in Chicago, I have been a creative success but not seen any big money success in film.  So investors never materialized.  I could have saved myself pain and trouble listening to spirit.

Finally, I surrendered and followed my guides advice and built the IndieGoGo and listened to spirit that I needed some final lessons and attunement in Sedona.  Within 5 minutes I had a 3 weeks barter of videos for room lined up with SpiritQuest in Sedona, the number one private retreat company in spirit mecca Sedona.  However, SpiritQuest turned out to be so fascinating to film and another project behind on editing left me little time to do Antarctica crowd funding.  And it showed.  We had raised on $250 in two weeks for Antarctica 12.12.12.

One November day Nick Edwards of Power of Pyramids called and asked if I would be wiling to film in Chichen Itza anywhere from 12.21 to 12.24.  Nick asked me to put aside 12.12.12 Antarctica to be sure to make the filming in Mexico but I flatly refused not wanting more sinus and gun trouble from my guides, who obviously do not kid around in keeping me on track.

Now I had enough to buy a one-way ticket from Sedona to Rio but I hesitated.  I’ve never traveled to South America.  Would I need shots?  Visas?  Crazy to travel without money for the hotels and not to all the way to the port of Ushuaia or to have a boat tickets.  My ego told me this was nuts, “You’ll be left stranded in South America and die of a tropical disease!”  Ego is such a pussy it’s funny.  Then a guide, female voice whispered, literally whispered in my ear as I was having breakfast and dilly dallying in Sedona, “Tarry not on the road to Antarctica.”

After weeks of Sedona tune up and healing from the daily cynicism of my Malibu client and a bad experience with former spirit partner who was only interested in free social media, I was ready to listen to my guides (who are even now telling me to keep sharing the mission  though I am back in LA on fumes).  I was ready to listen to spirit not ego.  So I hopped on the internet instantly and bought the one-way tickets to Rio.  I left Sedona with a lovely send off party by angel channel Terra Senorra.

I stopped though Vegas to fly to Rio, taking a Greyhound bus to my mother’s retirement condo a few days before Thanksgiving.  As I was showing mom the video about the trip to Antarctica my second-hand Apple MacBook pro computer went dead.  I checked the plug and it was shoot.  I did not have the $80 for a new one and Mom lent me the cash.  I tried to decline saying I’d have crowd money by the time I reached Rio but Mom insisted.  Mom is psychic and so I listened and my got the new cord with the help of my cantankerous stepfather.

Later, my grumpy stepfather freaked out driving me to the International airport, ready to drop me in the middle of nowhere.  But I calmly guided him to the departure gate as my mother shot him looks of disgust.  I kept waiting for my brother Fred, a steady supporter of my work, to make a little donation for the road but oddly he was not forthcoming.  Geminis!

And so with $40 in my wallet that my mother had smuggled me, I was off to Rio on a one-way ticket with no money yet for the boat ticket to Antarctica.

But I would not end up in Rio.  The angels had other plans for me.  I did not have a visa for Brazil which you need in advance from an embassy as it turns out.  And Copa Airlines was kind enough after hearing my objective was Antarctica to skip me ahead to Buenos Aires where you still need a visa but can buy it at the airport.  That all seemed wonderful.  I’d just go on the wifi at the airport and raised a little crowd money to pay the visa.  But when I got to the airport in Buenos Aires I was stuck in customs where there is no wifi and given only 3 hours to pay the fee or be deported back to LA!

T0 be continued on How 12.12.12. Almost Did Not Happen Part 2!

ONE WAY TRIP TO ANTARCTICA

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“ANGELS ARE GREAT TRAVEL AGENTS” – Ken Sheetz

I was having coffee here at the lovely B&B of Terra Sonora’s this morning. Sipping away and looking out at red rock mountains when I heard an angel’s urgent whisper, “Thou must tarry not on the road to Antarctica!”

Patrick Flanagan 12.12.12 Antarctica, A 24 Time Zone Sponsor

I’d been driving myself crazy for days with variation of travel plans since the amazing super scientist and author Patrick Flanagan, who many consider the reincarnation of Nicolas Tesla, had made a $1500 donation that really set the indiegogo.com/coolestmeditationever afire.

What made things so complex that I got confused was a good thing. I am pleased to announce that I have been invited to head a panel about the Antarctica mission to shift the polarity of human consciousness in Chichen Itza, Mexico. How cool is that I also get meet up with my friend, teacher and client Miguel Angel Ruiz who is keynote speaker?

So instead of getting back to the states from Rio, my first stop, as my guides tell me as I must visit the Christ statue which I have seen in visions was once a space elevator the ancient astronauts gave us that we were not ready for evolution-wise and so lost our rights to, I needed to be in Mexico, precisely on 12.21.12.  What a wonderful way to have my travel plans complicated.

I meant to get working on it again today first thing, but I dillydallied on this distraction we call the web.  A few days ago I created a destination bubble diagram and was getting ready to look at it after coffee.  Before I left my room to start the day a Scot I channel frequently, well, more like shouted at me, “Stop making this trip South so bloody damn complicated, Kenny lad! Get your ass to Rio on a one way ticket and let it all flow like ten damn healers in Sedona at http://retreatsinsedona.com/ have been trying to get through your thick 13th crystal skull for three week.  FLOW!”

Angus McPherson was right I realized.  I listen to my spirit guides far more these days after kicking myself for ignoring them so often these past 2 years. Still I delayed, after coffee I would make a ticket to Rio. Just one problem, I was about $600 short on the donations based on first quotes for tickets.

While sipping on coffee and pondering, I heard a much sweeter angelic voice than Angus’, “Thou must not tarry on the road to Antarctica.” That’s all the clue I needed.  I tarried not and rushed to my computer, amused at the angelic dialect I’d heard.  I am staying in an angel channel’s B&B after all.  And “lo”, to angel speak myself, here was a button on the search page on Priceline for flexible time travel that “doth” witnessed before. I pushed it and the One way ticket price dropped by $1,200. I “jest” not. The power of 12 in action for 12.12.12.

So I leave beautiful Sedona on the 17th with time to visit my family in Vegas on the way. I am going to bet $12 on #12 on the roulette wheel on my layover, baby!

I arrive in Rio on 11/19 at 2AM. Keep supporting on the link below. We’re halfway to Antarctica!

Support the Coolest Meditation Ever 12.12.12 Antarctica

Mashup vision art by Ken Sheetz as an activation to WAKE UP! 

WAR TO PEACE, A 12.12.12 ANTARCTICA VISION OF THE COOLEST MEDITATION EVER

On By Ken SheetzIn 2012, DreamShield, Mayan Calendar, Pyramid, The Shift, UFO, UncategorizedLeave a comment

 

This morning I had a profound vision in Sedona, on the road to Antarctica, of one of 24 time zone meditations I will conduct on 12.12.12 with your support.

I have little ego about all this.  It’s brilliant work I am simply channeling by the spirit guides.

WAR TO PEACE VISION

The vision I saw today was shift of man’s predilection to War to overriding Peace.I stood on the ice of Antarctica on 12.12.12 and raised my hands which tingled with massive energy.  Weapons, from hand guns to atomic missiles, smashed from the ice the medicine wheel I had laid out in the snow.  The sound of sorrow of the collective human soul became a raging vortex of all the weapons of the earth spinning high about the arctic landscape. A hurricane of death.I saw my tiny human form, my crystal skull glowing through my 60 year-old pale skin, skin, strike the snow with my walking stick, like some modern Gandalf. “SHIFT!” my voice echoed through the crystals of icebergs nearby.  A chill, not from the cold, but the magnetism of South Pole, sent a shiver down my spine.

Doves of dazzling white sprung to flight from the snow. — One dove of peace for each weapon of death.  The doves began to glow with an intensity greater than the sun. The angelic doves grabbed hold of the weapons with impossibly sharp talons and drew out negative energy from the weapons.  Around and around the doves worked their magic until the weapons turned white-hot, molten.The melting weapons and doves forged themselves into single molten blob.  The silver blog sank, steaming into the mile thick ice sheet of Antarctica. I peered over the precipice into the deep shaft and beheld a silver spaceship lifting off!

No UFO, this was a human made spaceship. I heard angelic singing as the ship roared past.  Humanity’s war energy had shifted from war to peace to reach the stars.

Will this really happen when I reach Antarctica?  My spirit guides won’t say.  So we’ll only know when I get there.

Namaste,

Ken

U-turn on the Road to Antarctica

On By Ken SheetzIn 2012, The Shift, Uncategorized1 Comment

Life is what happens when we make other plans – John Lennon

By Ken Sheetz

I am so glad I listened to my spirit guides and turned around from my trip to Sedona, on route to Antarctica, to visit Bradley Quick in the hospital when I heard the news of his cancer.

Bradley passed like his name, Quick. His end was not a long drawn out affair but one of grace and humor where he broke all visit records at St. Joseph’s hospital.

Considering that hospital is in Burbank, the entertainment capital of the world that says a lot about the man Bradley Quick.

His family was pleasantly surprised by his amazing popularity and the love people have for him as they paid their last respects, still hoping he’d pull off a miracle and get well.Bradley work of his charity for http://thecoolchangefoundation.org/, which I hope carries on his amazing work in curing people of addiction through the media with broadcasts daily as a beacon of hope, is cool indeed.I was his roomie in barter for social media for 18 very cool months.
Bradley sang every day. Not well but joyously. Like all human relationships we had our ups and downs. Early in our Odd couple lifestyle I even punched Bradley in the face once over a territory fight over spitting in my sink one day. Bradley had Hep C and I was furious he’d spit in the one spot I reserved for washing my dishes!But I pulled the punch because Bradley would not put up his fists when I asked him to duke it out. He staggered back after my punch and still would not fight, despite being in better shape and ten years my junior.
We got past it and it became one of our favorite stories of my transformation under his daily life coaching.We got way past our original territory battles and I made over 150 videos with over 1 million views on YouTube and built Bradley’s popular LiveStream channel http://www.livestream.com/coolchange. But without question I got the better end of the barter with Mr. B. Thanks for teaching me how to be cool, Bradley Quick. I will dedicate a meditation for you on 12.12.12 in Antarctica and I know you’ll be at my side with the penguins for the completion of the planetary shift mission you set me on for http://dreamshield.org/With love on the road to Antarctica,
Ken Sheetz

Happy Equinox 2012

On By Ken SheetzIn 2012, Mayan CalendarLeave a comment

“A very merry un-birthday to you!” – From Disney’s adaptation of Lewis Carroll’s “Alice in Wonderland”

By Ken Sheetz

ImageI don’t enjoy my birthday.  But it still comes every September 21st, usually the Equinox when it’s not a leap year like this one.  The reason I don’t like my birthday?   My father, who died 18 months ago, gave me more than a traditional birthday spanking when I turned thirteen.  You see, back in 1965 my dad got it in his head that age thirteen was manhood.  When I popped my kid brother Bruce in the jaw for teasing me about it getting a savings bond instead of the space toy I wanted, Dad popped his cork and beat me to within an inch of my life.

So, each year around my birthday I go through what the shrinks call “anniversary depression”.  I hoped all the personal growth DreamShield has brought that my 2012 birthday might be different.  But a few days away from my birthday arrival the old anniversary rage at my dad, a shockingly gargantuan amount, boiled up in me like a volcano.  Desperate to minimize my birthday blues, I disabled the notifications on my Facebook page before turning in for the night in the Great Spirits Ranch RV, determined to rough my birthday out in solitude.

Dad’s been dead 18 months now.  A wonderful man when not drinking, Dad loved adventure.  In a November 2011 vision of him Dad was on the adventure of all time, aboard a sleek silver bullet shaped ship traveling faster than the speed of light.  When I asked my dead father where his amazing space ship was going he said he’d let me know when the time was right.

Apparently, the time had come because at 4 AM on the morning of my 2012 birthday, as I lay awake in bed staring at the RV ceiling, dreading the coming day’s annual sorrow, I heard my dead father say, “Ready to know where my space ship has been heading, Ken?”

“Sure,” I said warily.

“Close your eyes.”

I closed my eyes and saw Dad’s silver space ship once again rocketing through the stars.  But I knew in that instant this was not outer space.  Dad’s ship was traveling to the center of my inner universe.

Soon Dad and I were standing on the freshly mowed lawn of our old home in Bay View Wisconsin.  I breathed in the fresh air of 1965 that wafted off Lake Michigan.  Invisible to all but each other, Dad’s ghost and I watched as the blue Chevrolet family station wagon pulled up to the curb.

Mom, a young beauty again in her 30s, was first to hop out of the car with her favorite Bruce, five-years-old again, in tow.

Ghost Dad watched with some shame as his drunken 1965 self stepped from the car and slammed the door shut so hard and loose piece of chrome fell off.   “You ungrateful little shit,” said 1965 Dad lighting up a smoke. “You don’t like your savings bond I’ll burn it, but no more damn toys! I was working and supporting my Ma and sisters when I was thirteen.”

My brother Fred, age eleven and my thirteen-year-old self hopped from the car, avoiding Dad as he did his drunken best to fix the fallen chrome.

“A savings bond is cool, Kenny.” said Fred, still my best friend to this day.

“I wanna model space station.” I grumbled.

“Don’t know when to quit do you, boy?” said 1965 Dad, cutting his finger on the sharp chrome, angrier by the second.

Smelling his chance to amplify family drama, Bruce ran up to Fred and me laughing.  “Ha!  Ha! Ken got a stupid savings bond for his birthday!”

My younger self reared back for a punch, the punch to my smartass baby brother’s jaw that would send my father into a drunken rage.  A rage where he’d beat me to a point I felt I was going to die and did in a way.

But my ghost father had other plans.  He simply reached out and held my 1965 self’s hand back.  So I never hit my baby brother.  My 1965 father  stormed in the house to fix his cut finger.  Fred and I ran off giggling from relief to hide out in the tree house until Dad sobered up.

My spirit self stood for a moment with my ghost father.  I listed in stunned peaceful silence as seagulls sang over Lake Michigan.  It was all so simple, so elegant a solution.  My ghost father had traveled back time to change the past.  And now there never was a beating on my lucky thirteenth.

“Happy birthday, Ken,” Dad said, tears of pride and joy welling in his blue eyes.

I woke in bed weeping and thanking my father.  I could feel it to my core.  Deep healing.  I was 100% cured of my anniversary depression.

Friday morning, my 2012 birthday, I woke filled with renewed energy, not only for my arrival date on the planet earth but life.  A scientist/artist/builder pal, Brian Kutza, offered me a ride off the ranch to the grand opening of John D. Riley’s new gallery and healing center happening that night in Santa Monica and I gladly accepted.

Photo by Brian Kutza

While Brian dropped me off in Santa Monica to pick up his divine compliment Ellen and his adorable daughter Kendra in Pasadena I saw RESIDENT EVIL 5 and bought some new clothes as a birthday gift to myself.  At John’s party I met beautiful new friends and happily told guests it was my birthday.   I thought to myself at one point, “So this is the joy people normally feel on their birthdays!”

Today September 22nd, the 2012 leap year Equinox, I told my brother Fred about my birthday visit from Dad’s ghost.  Fred was very happy for me.

Badly beaten on my 13th birthday?  Nope.  Never happened in this Golden Age we are entering where miracles await us all.  Happy Equinox 2012.

Please support my mission to reach Antarctica before the Mayan Calendar ends for a pole shift meditation at DreamShield.org

Equinox 2012, An Early Birthday Gift

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Almost every wise saying has an opposite one, no less wise, to balance it. – George Sanatayana

By Ken Sheetz

I was born on September 21st, time of the Equinox depending on the year.  This year the Equinox is actually on the 22nd.  Long before my spirit work, the Equinox was more magical than just my birthday.  This morning, 9/10/2012, weeks ahead of the Equinox, I had a vision of the Yin and Yang symbol representing, not female and male,  but the balance of my dark side and light side.

As an adult who suffered as a child and into an adulthood from a loving father who was a “mean drunk” and a distant mother, I never liked any kind of holiday or birthday. They all seemed to set off Dad’s drinking and my emotionally unavailable mom could never make up for how rotten our resulting lives were.

Birthday’s in particular became a horror that brought out the worst in Dad.  After growing up there were many surprise parties where people were shocked I was not myself.  You see, I used to go into an annual depression in the weeks surrounding my birthday.  But as the work of DreamShield, and good old fashioned psychology over the years has served to heal me, I have come to enjoy some birthday attention.

In 1985 I named my corporation Equinox in honor of my famous astrological birth date.  Equinox Corporation’s motto was “Balanced Solutions” and the logo was equal day and night.  That balanced corporation served me to build Oprah’s Studios, a $162 million skyscraper, a billion dollars worth of leases, and, after my move to Hollywood, a PBS special, 3 feature film you can buy on Amazon and hundreds of short films with over 6 million views on YouTube.  But in 2009 as the recession deepened things got so bad I was forced to save the cost of maintaining Equinox and the corporate fees.  I’ve been doing business bareback ever since, without the shelter of a corporation.

Closing Equinox on my birthday in 2009 was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.  But BuzzBroz social media services was born from that closing and DreamShield’s mission of a gentle 2012 grew out of BuzzBroz.  So all has worked in divine order.

As I lay in bed this morning. thanking the ET angels I have not felt my usual depression around my birthday, I thought of the Equinox.  Equal darkness and equal light upon the world.  I saw an vivid image of the yin and yang symbol.  I saw immediately how confined I have kept my dark energy.  A behavior that has made me something of martyr in business and relationship.

Instantly upon asking for balance from the forces behind the DreamShield I saw the confined darkness within my soul set free!  The freed darkness literally pounded the yin and yang symbol into a new inner symmetry to bong of the darkness expanding!

Then the yin and yang symbol began to spin until all was not a grey but an integrated energy that shone brighter.

After I started my work day had a quick test of the balance when I said “Good morning” to the ranch owner on the way to the office.  Rather than return my greeting Deb began to rattle on about work she needed done.  I gently but firmly stopped her and repeated “Good morning.”  Deb smiled and returned my greeting.  I felt whole, able to stand up for myself.

Yeah, I like the equinox of 2012.  Balanced light and dark energies.  The end of my fear of inner duality.  That it’s happening and near my birthday makes this birthday the happiest of my life.  This amazing performance expresses my joy at my inner ascension.


And be sure to join Ken for a UFO Skywatch in Malibu on 9/15 and 9/16.  Details and reservations at DreamShield.org

ET Cure for Humanity’s Insanity Virus Nears

On By Ken SheetzIn 2012, Planetary Meditations, The Shift, UncategorizedLeave a comment

“Suppose, then, that all men were sick or deranged, save one or two of them who were healthy and of right mind. It would then be the latter two who would be thought to be sick and deranged and the former not!”
(Aristotle, Metaphysics 340BC)

By Ken Sheetz

Back in early July, I channeled my ET higher self Ohom to invite him to my UFO Skywatch on July 14th.  But as you see in this video Ohom declined the invite because humanity has a virus, an insanity virus to be precise.

So when the spaceships did not come when July 14th arrived I was sad but not surprised.  Humans as a species are terrifying to the ETs who see us as a greedy beings wrecking its own world, murdering each other and all life on this planet.  Witness last month’s Batman killings for sheer madness with no point but violence itself, or as recent as today’s massacre at a Sihk temple in my home state of Wisconsin.

Over the past seven months, based at Great Spirits Ranch, both on and off the ranch, I’ve witnessed insanity and drug abuse in the liberal left Light Worker community, and to the far right, equally bizarre behavior.  In myself I’ve battled jealousy, ego and depression.  In other words as ranch owner Deb Malmazada is famed for saying, “We are all f’ked up in (human) form.”

I was losing hope entirely for a gentle shift of 2012 when one morning a 4AM the soft echoing voice of Ohom, my higher ET self and guide, woke me from a deep slumber. “Ken, we want to test a cure for the human insanity virus on you.  Go to your faucet with your DreamShield coffee mug and get some fresh water.”

I’ve learned it’s far easier to comply with these odd requests, did as I was asked, and drank.  The 11.11.11 DreamShield mug glowed faintly in the darkness of the early morning as I placed the mug back on the RVs little night stand shelf and went instantly back to sleep.

I soon found myself in dream.  I was running through a strange yet familiar structure, running from a demon.  The demon, I somehow realized for the first time in a lifetime filled with these sorts of nightmares, was my own negative energy.  So I stopped in archway and turned to face my dark side.  The demon overtook me and my face twisted into monstrous forms. I panicked as leathery skin spread across my body.  Bat like wings erupted from my back and razor claws burst painfully from my finger tips.

Despite my terror, I willed myself to stay in the dream.  Pressure drummed in my ears until I thought my head would explode.  But in time, I have no idea how long this inner battle went on, I was able to integrate all the dark energy.  The horrific images of demonic transformation faded.  I looked at myself in a mirror in the dream, myself once more, only stronger.  A new twinkle in my eyes.

A voice called me to wakefulness with a mild Russian accent, “How is it you are feeling, Ken?”

“Like a Mac truck ran me over.  Thanks.  Is this my Russian physicist self from the 19th century the Damanhur have told me about?” I asked the voice.

“Da.  I am interested in how your ego has been affected by the waters,” the voice replied in good humor.

Confused on how I could be in the present and past at the same time I surrendered to the moment and simply answered, “I’ll get back to you, comrade.”

“Take heart, Dreamer.  The negativity visiting upon you, it is absorbed into the crystal caverns and waters below Great Spirits Ranch.   There, I and the team of ET scientists work day and night for the cure to the human insanity virus.

The virus, it is a mutation of the ancient Black Plague. It is sneaky and hides in the folds of the human brain. Look for yourself, Ken!” the voice echoed in my head .

I went into meditation and watched the dark recesses of my brain folds begin to light up with blue white light.  The cure was changing me.  But would it work?

When that long night’s labors ended, seems I work 24 hours some days, it was about 7:30 am.  I did my morning rituals as the birds sang, cleaned up after breakfast and commuted the 100 yards from the RV to my amazing office here at the ranch atop Malibu.

How, I wondered as I walked past the flowers and trees that adorn my commute, could people make themselves, human f’cked up in form me included,  make life, even here in a Malibu paradise, so miserable?  No wonder in the Bible stories God finally kicks out Adam and Eve out of Eden!  We are a contentious cantankerous lot.

After completing my agreed to 4 hours per day of social media, that pays my room and board at the ranch, and at various other places I’ve been blessed to visit these past two years since seeing my first visions in Italy, I decided I needed a break from the electronic world.

So I volunteered to help Deb, and new ranch hand Jason, with some manual labor.  We cleared brush from one of the patio areas where a new TV show’s cast and crew would be dinning over the weekend.  A short while into the work, Deb turned to me and said in her harsh yet straight forward style she is famed for, in her Maryland east coast accent she has never lost despite coming to LA as a kid, “I gotta end the board part of our bargain.  You’ll have to buy your own groceries from now on.  And I we need to rework our whole bargain soon.  I just don’t see the value of social media for my ranch.”

I could tell Deb was expecting a big scene from me, something she relishes in her cathartic way she provokes people’s issues to the surface.  But much as it stung what Deb was saying, I simply shrugged while gathering leaves and said, “OK.  Let’s figure something else out, Deb.  All I know is I want to stay on the ranch a while longer.”

My simple peaceful reaction to Deb’s words, without debate, was exciting progress for Mr. Debate here. We both felt a thrill in my change of style and happily finished our gardening together.  Deb made fabulous sandwiches for lunch to celebrate my victory over anger and ego.

I continue seeing things occurring on the ranch, the world and myself that show me the cure is far from perfected,  but I am hopeful that one morning I’ll be awoken again by Ohom’s voice to drink the waters of the ranch and the cure to the human insanity virus, devouring our world from the inside out, will at last be at hand.