Trump’s Fever Dream – Chapter 8 – Trumptopia

Congratulations. If you are an American reading this blog during the final days of the Trumptopia you’re one of the lucky people not to be among the 340,000 to 420,000, depending on who is counting, to sadly and needlessly be killed off by the Corona virus in 2020.

Add to the Trumptopia 2020 shit show the nearly 20 million Americans who were infected by the maskless, feckless, freedom fighters and extra congrats if you’ve not become a long hauler. Happily, not even the ever more seditious GOP can dampen the collective joy over the good news that the mother of all polls, The Gallup, shows Trump’s popularity is falling as Biden’s rises.

All of which inspires me to create a new chapter in my ongoing blog series that began in the spring of 2020 and which might become a novel once I can make the time.

TRUMP’S FEVER DREAM – CHAPTER 8 – TRUMPTOPIA

In chapter 7 we left the Donald Trump of an alternate timeline reality. One where he was not so lucky as our reality’s Trump, who quickly recovered from Covid. — All to our collective shock given his obesity and unhealthy diet. — The orange dictator wannabe lays secretly intubated in a makeshift hospital room that was once his White House bedroom. While across the hall, the First Lady has been accidentally shot by Steve Bannon.

Melania croaks her last words to Bannon, “Tell Donald I love heem.”

Trump’s fever dream madness dissolves. He blinks his orange raccoon eyes, coming to with a loud gasp in his good old White House bedroom. He mutters in disgust at all the moving boxes that surround his bed.

Screenshot from Comedy Central Video -The President Gets Evicted From the White House

Trump yawns deeply and mumbles to himself, “Knew it. Knew it was all a bad dream when Melania said she loves me.” He turns on TV and is shocked to see Kayleigh McEnany is now a Fox News anchor.

“Morning, Fox viewers. The sad day we’ve all been dreading, January 20th 2021, is here. Despite the heroic efforts of the near unanimous vote of the GOP Congress and GOP Senators, led by GOP rival for McConnell’s throne, Ted Cruz , and a well contained Proud Boy riot on January 6th, one fortunately with no casualties, unless you count their broken hearts, the geriatric Joe Biden will be sworn in at noon today as the unlawful fake president of the not-so-United States of America. We are honored on this, my first day as the new Fox News morning anchor, to welcome the real President of the United States Donald Trump to the show… Uh, sir? Are you there, sir?”

“One sec! Forgot I was going to be on this morning.” shouts Trump as he throws on a robe that is patterned after a king’s gown. “Well, not really forgot. I am sharper than ever. Sharp as… what was I saying?”

The ON AIR sign lights up on the bedroom camera. Now Trump’s gigantic naked bone white ass is all that’s being broadcast live on FOX, which temporarily cuts to a still shot of a well coifed Trump kissing Giuliani.

Trump sweeps empty McDonald’s wrappers off his bed. His orange head a balding Boris Johnson mess, Trump jams on a Lincoln stovepipe top hat over his embarrassing hair and shouts. “Ready, Kayleigh!”

“Mr. President! Ah there you are. Looking very Abe Lincoln too. How, um… nice!” says Kayleigh painting on her famed fake smile.

“Hadn’t heard you were on FOX, Kayleigh,” says Trump coldly.

“Fox made me an offer I could not refuse, sir.”

“Fox is fake news now. I am the REAL president and this whole fake Biden/Harris inauguration thing today is a total sham. Right?” demands Trump.

“Of, of course, Mr. Real President. And I am going to be on site for your real inauguration later today.” offers Kayleigh brightly.

“I’ll never give up! I love my voters too much to ever quit. The rigged elections were stolen by the lower income working class people living in urban areas!” shouts Trump.

“Just call them Black voters, sir. Sorry, we’re trying to get the balance back into “fair and –”

“Hate to cut you short, Kayleigh, but I gotta thank all the suc, uh, brave donors who gave me over $300 million, post election day, to my Stop the Steal Campaign. A new funding record that will earn me a third Nobel. Donations still welcome at this link!” Trump lifts a poster board with his website emblazoned across it in front of his face, accidentally knocking off his stovepipe hat. His hair a beautician’s nightmare, Trump dives from sight and pops back up with the Abe hat turned sideways.

Kayleigh coughs nervously and tries to change the subject,”Um, Tell us about your real inauguration today. Why the choice of Four Season Total Landscaping for the location of your second term swearing in?”

Trump crosses his plump arms in a pout and grouses, “Did I teach you nothing, Kayleigh, while you served under me?”

“I’m sorry?”

You tell me why I selected Four Seasons Total Landscaping, Kayleigh.” says Trump tapping his chubby bare foot. “Hello! I’m waiting.”

“Um, you’re doubling down, sir? On Rudy’s presser he held between the dildo store and the crematorium?”

“Bingo! Haha! I own the libs again!” says Trump doing his YMCA dance, which minus the music is even weirder looking.

“Ooh the libtards hate you, sir!” giggles Kayleigh.

“Hey, Kayleigh, would you like your first Fox exclusive?”

“Of course, Mr. Real President.”

“The master of deal is back, Kayster! I’ve made an exclusive arrangement with Four Seasons Total Landscaping, to be the future northern White House, ” says Trump with a cocky grin.

“Um. Speechless, sir.”

“They’re putting me in the fertilizer department.” beams Trump.

“Um, uh, excellent choice to once again own the libtards. I’m curious of one thing though, Mr. President –“

“That’s Mr. Real President, ” says Trump angrily readjusting his stovepipe hat to his best crack a normal.

“I’m curious, Mr. Real President, why such a small venue? I mean the landscaper’s back alley could not possibly hold more than 100 or so of your loyal followers.”

“Duh. Simple, Kayleigh. Covid!” shouts Trump as if being louder will make his idea more understandable.

“Covid?” asks a panicky looking Kayleigh.

“I alone can save the American people from the virus. So I want my real inauguration to be intimate. You know, less people… to fight the China plague! A plague that Joe Biden’s son Hunter has brought upon our people with his illegal emails to the Ukraine.”

Not liking where this is heading Kayleigh gingerly asks,”Sir, are you still considering re-labeling this tragic killer of innocents and old people to be the Biden Virus?”

“Damn leakers. I was gonna reveal that in my inauguration speech today! Who told you about the Biden Virus?” demands Trump, with a pop on on his top hat for emphasis.

“You did, sir. Um, before I quit,” says Kayleigh with an apologetic smile.

“Right. I knew that. Knew that like Person, Man, Woman Camera, something, something. As you know, I am starting my own network. Trump TV! And it would have been the far,very far better choice for you, Kayleigh. Fox has gone too god damn liberal. Al the truthing! Disgusting!”

“The truth can really suck. I know. It”s just…”

“Just what, Kayleigh?”

“Ivanka. She’s jealous of any time I spend with you, sir.”

“Yeah, my babe, uh, baby can get catty. Can’t get enough of her Daddy dear,” says Trump distracted by a house fly.

“So I figured I able to converse with you more freely, Mr. Real President, at a network Ivanka was not, um, running.” says Kayleigh, finishing with a flirtatious smile.

Trump dives missing the fly and falls to the floor, “Got him and his little fly brother. Two flies with one blow Topped Obama again!” says Trump as the two flies buzz by the camera.

“How is the first lady taking all this?” says Kayleigh trying to move on.

“Dr. Jill? How the hell would I know?” sighs Trump then realizing what he said and quickly adding, “Right! First Lady Melania has written a poem about all this. Like me to read it?”

Off Kayleigh’s nod, Trump recites,

“A Poem the Real First Lady Melania Trump

4 years in the drafty old White House

Four years living with an arrogant louse

Get me off this fucking horse

I want a fucking dee-vorce!”

Trump says sadly, “Oh, that was Melania’s diary. My bad.”

“So sorry, Donald, I mean Mr. Real President.” says Kayleigh, wiping a tear.

“Shoulda rehearsed that poem thingee more. Nothing to be sorry about! Ladies, I am back on the market. How about a date tonight, Kayleigh?”

“Have to be double date. My husband Sean for me and any number of lucky women for you.”

“I’ll check with Kimberly!” says Trump wistfully.

“Don Jr. and Ms. Guilfolye have broken up?”

“Haha. Nope. But why settle for junior when senior’s on the market?”

Trump and Kayleigh laugh. Both have a hard time stopping and soon it awkward AF.

“Never can stay mad at you, Kayleigh Wayleighly. Wanna hear a little of my speech?” says Trump, pulling his robe tight over his bulging crotch. “This one I rehearsed, well, more like skimmed. Actually, my Black body man Robert read it to me. Did I mention Robert is Black?”

“Um, yes you have, sir. Many, many, many time.”

“Robert”s the Black guy that told me I was the best president for Black people aside from Abe Lincoln, maybe,” says Trump swatting the pair of flies away. “So mt speech. Want a taste, Kayleigh?”

“Oh my god, we at Fox News are totally honored to hear your real inauguration speech, Mr. Real President!”

Trump digs through the pile of burger wrappers, “Fuck me, where’s my fucking inauguration speech? Ah here we go! – Ahem! Four years ago we birthed Trumptopia together! This despite the mess I inherited from that Kenya born jungle bunny and –“

“If I may suggest, sir, Jungle bunny may cost your a few Black votes in 2024, sir.” says Kayleigh, sneaking a look at her watch.

Trump ignores Kayleigh and pushes on, “Now, as I begin my second terms as the real president of my ever blossoming Trumptopia, I want to give special thanks to those rascally Proud Boys for acting as my army — scratch that, I mean private security force — sponsored by My Pillow, and gathered here at Four Seasons Total Land –“

Onscreen Kayleigh listens to her earpiece and says, “Sorry to interrupt, Mr. President.”

Mr. Real President! Knew I should have given this interview to Hannity. What the fuck is so important you have the nerve to interrupt –“

“Sean has breaking news from the, um, fake inauguration. It seems fake president Joe Biden has sprained his big toe and –“

“Haha! See! See how old and feeble that old goat Biden is!” gloats Trump.

“Actually, it seems Joe sprained his toe rescuing a bus load of Trump backers from a burning Greyhound single-handidly.” says Kayleigh softly.

“Oh, “whispers Trump. The stovepipe hat falls off his bushy half bald head.

“Sorry, Mr REAL President. Over to you Sean,” says Kayleigh blowing a kiss to Trump.

The TV screen switches to a Sean Hannity who watches in amazement as Joe Biden carries a heavy Proud Boy over his shoulders off the burning Greyhound bus to be tended to by the First Lady Dr. Jill Biden.

Sean says bitterly to the camera, “Welp, there goes Trumptopia, folks!”

Trump glumly turns off the TV and starts to pack his remaining shit.

Trump’s Black body man Robert pokes his head in the bedroom door and says, “Sir, the Secret Service, insists you vacate immediately. You get dressed and leave that packing to me.”

Trump falls to his knees and prays,”Where’d I go wrong with your people, Robert?”

Robert ponders and finally finds the words, “I had to pick the moment it was, you know, after Charlottesville. When you said there were very fine people on both sides?”

Trump nods slowly. Falling tears streak his orange makeup. Trump finds a half eaten burger on the floor and attempts to eat away his sorrow.

THE END

Antarctica’s Purity Via Tesla Waves

Since my return from Antartica in 2012, where I filmed 24 quantum intentional meditations to accelerate the shift, I am often asked what I like most about Antarctica. I always say, “Besides the penguins, the fact there’s no EMF radiation.”

Indeed. the purity of the energy field and its powerful magnetics make Antarctica ideal for intentional meditation. Up until now you’d have to travel all the way south to get the same feeling of freedom from EMF. Now, via Tesla scalar waves produced in fibonacci sequences by using a Blushield device you can feel Antarctica’s purity without ever leaving home!

You see, a very cool thing recently happened at the CoolestMeditationEver.com. We’ve been invited to add an amazing line of Tesla Technology EMF protection devices from BluShield!  Here’s a cool video about this much needed tech.

In classic law of attraction form, this amazing new product like came to CME effortlessly.

The ball got rolling when we upgraded our Wifi to 5G.  Though we loved the faster speeds we felt wonky bathed in so much EMF. Elizabeth did some research to look for the best EMF protectors.  She found then story in Nexus Magazine about an incredible line of EMF protection devices originating out of New Zealand. We got the Teslsa Plug-in, thinking if we liked it we’ve step up to the larger Tesla Gold Series Cube.

We immediately noticed improvements in mood and energy using the Blushield plugin. We weren’t needing as much coffee to face the long hours we put in on the computer everyday.  And we sailed through some serious bumps in the road of life more easily.

A few days later we got an email from the BluSheild-USA distributor, Brandon Amalani, who it turns out was fan and supporter of our work where we bring cool tools to the market from greats of spirit science like Patrick Flanagan, Jonathan Goldman, Liz Aplert and James Wanless. Brandon blessed us with the entire line of Blushield for us to study as possible addition to our Cool Tools Page.

Once we added the portable improvement our baseline health accelerated. I experienced greater detox than Elizabeth. My sinuses, I’ve had trouble with since childhood cleared to the point where an old root canal abscessed tooth that had been infecting my sinuses begged the dentist for removal.

Best of all we notice the use of Blushield clears away the mental cobwebs of EMF and we are preforming better meditations.

Well, with results like we’ve both had personally, combined with the great results in research in blood testing and farm testing, it was not a hard to decided to add Blushield to our CoolTools page. And the line is so comprehensive we are building a new website called CoolestTechEver.com.  Hard to believe that great URL was out there for us. Good sign.

Here’s a new 17 second promo spot we’ve created to express the wonderful way Blushield’s fibonacci patterned scalar frequencies entrain your body to tune out EMF’s harmful effect.

FROM OUR HOME PAGE

Let’s face it, WiFi and cell phone signals are inescapable in our modern environment. Awake and sleeping, we’re immersed in these invisible waves. Unfortunately much as humanity loves the convenience of wireless electronics, their relentless frequency waves cause disruption to our body’s electromagnetic field at the cellular level. And this continuous cellular stress response has proven to have cumulative negative long term health effects.

And so, CME is thrilled to present the ACTIVE EMF PROTECTION of Blushield Tesla technology! When people start using Blushield devices they report feeling:

  • More relaxed and chill.
  • Better able to focus.
  • Greater mental clarity for meditation, school, work.
  • Able to spend more time in front of a computer.
  • Less tired, zapped eyes.
  • Greater energy
  • Better Quality Sleep

All these cool benefits will help you create the coolest meditation ever while improving your baseline health. As opposed to passive EMF protection, like stickers and orgonite, Blushield utilizes active EMF protection technology by creating powerful coherent scalar waves to mitigate EMF (electromagnetic fields) at a cellular level. Blushield overrides all ambient EMF fields, including wireless radiation, mimicking nature and relaxing our body’s stress response caused by EMF.

Illuminate Film Festival: Movie and a Healing!

I have to thank my love and partner Elizabeth  England for convincing me to take a break on THE COOLEST MEDIATION EVER film work and crowd funding to attend Danette Wolpert’s blossoming third Illuminate Film Festival, June 1-5.  Not only did we both have a great time seeing cutting edge conscious film we met amazing luminaries of the work to which we we are both dedicated.

Instead of just popcorn in the lobby of this festival you can visit a healer, 0r have a sound healing or virtual reality experience.  To all my film friends in LA, this is fest to mark you calendar for next year.

The parties were first rate with lots of Vegan and Kombucha and filled with conscious conversation. Lifelong connections were forged with conscious filmmakers from across the globe and it was great to see familiar face with old friends and meet new ones.

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Ken Sheetz and Elizabeth England with Jai Uttal

We met too many amazing people to list.  Here’s our interview we participated in with Reverend Michael Bernard Beckwith. More videos and reviews of new films yet to hit the theater to come.

FORGIVING DR. JEKEYLL

“In the Golden Age it is time embrace paradox!” – Stephanie Sutton, PhiSciences.com

By Ken Sheetz

coming soon steph poster
Click the pic for Stephanie Sutton’s talk of Mayan mysteries on THE FLANAGAN EXPERIMENTS

Happy official first day of the Golden Age.  A day I learned all about from Mayan calendar guru Stephanie Sutton, who I am filming with her husband Patrick Flanagan for THE FLANAGAN EXPERIMENTS.  It’s such an honor to film this power couple at work in the shift.

Stephanie, who is an enlightened psychologist, has been of great help on my personal work here in Sedona.  An unexpected boon for this man healing from my recent narrow escape from the Matrix only 3 years ago after seeing ET angels build the DreamShield in a 2010 vision that awakened me.

I am blessed by this Sedona Golden Age power couple.  So blessed.  And so I try not to burden Patrick and Stephanie too much with my personal junk I am clearing away to make room for the new me.  Yeah, it’s hard enough work making a 50 video web series without throwing my dark childhood wounds and the mess they made of my adult life into the mix.

So on Monday July the 29th 2013, of the Grand Trine long predicted by the Mayans, I book a sessions with my LA gal pal, and newly relocated Sedona intuitive healer Mica Monet. Mica’s one of the stars of this blog of late for the great work she is doing on healing me here when I am not making videos for THE FLANANGAN EXPERIMENTS.

The lovely healer selects a lovely small park for our work beside the Oak Creek.  We set up camping chairs Mica likes to use for outdoor sessions on a small bluff overlooking the magical healing waters of the Oak Creek.  Mica’s does not call herself and intuitive healer for nothing.  She senses my uptight heart and asks me, “What’s wrong, Kenny B?”

“Damned if know, Mica.  My messed up heart I guess.” I say plopping into my camping chair.  Bugs immediately begin to bug me.

“Close your eyes, Ken, and let’s get started,” says Mica, who looks tired from the high demands of a rapidly growing healing practice here in the red rock country of Sedona.

“Sorry.  I don’t want to close my eyes, Mica.  I’d rather change-up the session and tell you a story about my heart.  It’s related to the love thing,” I say feeling lost from the get go.

“Your call.” says Mica.

“OK.  Let me tell you the tale of ‘Ken Sheetz and Global Love.’  On 2.13.11 ETs of the dream shield ask me on the spur of a moment to become a human back-up drive for about 12 hours for all love on planet earth.  And I accept.  That night before bed all earthly love from the tiniest microbe to the whales of the sea pours into me through my third eye, a fully conscious eyes wide open experience.  I was not sleeping or dreaming.  All love on earth flooded into me in a beam of data.  I went to sleep after filled with a backup copy of all love on earth.  What a night that was.”

“See, Ken?   You can receive love in a big way after all!” offers Mica brightly.

“No.  I was simply a vessel, a backup love-drive space.  Nature abhors a vacuum and so I was a perfect subject.  But, still, a little of the love from this entire world did leak to my heart.   That’s how shut down my heart is, Mica, being a human backup drive to all love on earth is the closest I have come to receiving love.” I say sadly.

“Why do you think the ETs wanted you to do this in the first place?  Why this back-up drive to planetary love?” says Mica, the human angel looking for an angle to help wedge open my closed heart.

“The ETs that built the DreamShield used me as human back-up drive in the highly likely event of a solar flare that will wipe all of our memories,” I say.  For the first time telling this amazing story to a person and not just blogging about it.

Mica God Session 2
“Mica Pica from Topeka” angel channel Mica Monet

Mica nods calmly for me to continue.  Here in Sedona, I love how the unusual is taken as usual.

“On Valentine’s Day 2.14.11,” I further explain to Mica, “I transfer all love that was downloaded into me as a living backup drive from all earth life, big and small, into the Parthenon duplicate in Nashville.  I was in Nashville in 2011 just after my father died, who was an alcoholic, doing a planetary meditation to end addiction for Lee McCormick’s Spirit Recovery, one of the largest recovery centers in the state of Tennessee.”

“Interesting how you father plays into all this.” says Mica, trying to take me to my father issues.

“Let’s keep my dad out of this today, OK?  I need a break from his junk.”

“Sorry.  Go ahead with the ETs and you as a human backup drive to love story.” says Mica.

“Love is all the ETs say we need save of our memories in the event of a solar flare.  Rage, hate, fear, all negativity are superfluous. And now that I helped set up Nashville’s Parthenon as the back up drive, ET angels update our planet’s love there each night as we all dream.”

“Love backed up daily in our dream time.  Makes sense,” says Mica.

“Thanks.  I’ve been blogging about this since 2011, but no one takes what I went through seriously,” I say.

“Seems to me a lot of people believed in you enough to send you to Antarctica to help the ETs halt the pole shift at the end of 2012,” says Mica with a smile, proud she’s rained on my pity party.

“Got me, as usual.  You’re good, you. — There’s more to the ETs and me that may give answers about my heart that can only give love not accept it.  The ETs showed me in a 2012 meditation in Malibu that I am not quite as human as I appear.  Part of me is a sentient program sent from the future.  My furthest future earth self is from 4.54 billions of years in the future the ETs who guide me say,” I explain to the patient listener Mica Monet, who nods for me to go on.

“I came here, to this era of the Shift, to be born in 1952.  That’s the furthest back in time my DNA sentient program could be sent from 5 billion years out, using that times advanced via wave technology.  WAVE is a sci-fi film I made in 2005 about what has turned out to be real. In studying this ET knowledge I have seen that ’52 is the year the cell phone got invented and the exact midpoint between earth’s birth 5 billion years ago and earth’s death 5 billion years from now.”

“Whoa.  We’re smack in the middle of earth’s life span here in 2013.  Go on, Kenny B, sorry to interrupt” says Mica.

“My future self, and sorry, I don’t have my future self’s name yet to share yet, is from a time when humans are immortal sentient organic machines.  Technology and biology have merged.”

Mica listens patiently as the sun fills the little park beside the Oak Creek with golden shafts of light.  I am relieved Mica is not looking at me like I am insane and so I press on, ” But in humankind’s evolution, something critical to humanity’s future has been lost.”

“Love?” says the intuitive healer.

“Yes.  To be specific, humanity has lost the ability to receive love 5 billion years from now.”

“Hmm, just the way you are feeling, Kenny B.” say Mica.

Transformation
Click the pic to see Patrick and Stephanie accelerate the Shift on THE FLANAGAN EXPERIMENTS

“Yes.  Now that my Antarctica mission is done, this search for the balance of love is the reason I was guided here to Sedona, during the birth of the Golden Age.  Here with you and Patrick and Stephanie, and Ed And Kat Preston, and bunches of other people I’ve not met and may never meet.”

A little dog that looks like a miniature lion, a dog I have never met before, strains on its master’s leash line to reach me for a pat on then head. I am grateful for the love interruption to my long story of about being an organic cyborg program from a distant future.

“Dogs are love,” Mica says calmly.  “You are being supported with doggie love in telling me all this.  Go on, Ken.”

I swat at bugs pestering me, “If I am supported telling this global love tale, one I barely believe myself, why are all these bugs bothering me and not you?”

“You tell me,” says Mica, an expert in keeping you focused in her powerful sessions.

“Sorry to blab about what must sound like my next science fiction screenplay.  But for some reason I know it’s important you get my full picture of not just my past, but humanity’s future.”

“Good.  But my guides say your answers to solving your one-way love issues are in your past, not your super cool future.  Please close your eyes and let me take you back.” Mica says.  I sense her frustration at not spirit journeying with me today, like we usually do so gracefully.

Mica Monet of Sedona
Divine healer Mica Monet of Sedona. 5 star healing. Book a session 928-212-4411, say Ken Sheetz sent you.

A Ginger Rogers of a spirit dancer, Mica is a fantastic dancer and singer.  I even have attended some of her Salsa classes.  Helps me get out of my writing/editing chair I’ve been glued to for The Flanagan Experiments.

“Sorry.  Not feeling up to spirit dancing with you today, Mica Pica.  Odd I know.  That’s what I thought we’d be doing.  But these sessions never are what I expect.” I say softly, wishing I knew what the heck was going on.  I love traveling through time and space with Mica.  But my heart is as bankrupt as Detroit that filed this week.

“You’re so sad today, Ken.  It’s not like you.  I want to help,” says Mica kindly.  She is one the kindest people I have ever worked in 20 years of therapy with.

“Mica, I have to confess  I am literally falling apart on this one-way love DreamShield mission.  How I am supposed to live on earth another 50 years, like I was told by the voice of God in 2010 in Italy?”  I blubber on, stories still pouring out of me.  “In the far future, when earth’s red sun grows to the point where it will soon swallow the earth whole, where my furthest future life is sent backwards in time to be with you here in this park today, love is just a highly sophisticated program that merely replicates love behaviors. Our race has lost its way on the road to progress when it comes to love 5 billion years from today, this lost day of the Grand Trine.”

“I don’t believe humanity’s future is that bleak.  Sounds more like some wild expression of clever ego subterfuge,” says Mica.

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Tin Man, AKA Pepe le Sheetz

“No this future is as real as you sitting in that chair, Mica.  Only one possible Quantum future, I grant you.   But it’s the future I come from.  A future that has pluses.  Humanity lives in peaceful co-existence with all of nature for example.” I offer.

“But, Ken, it matters not if there is no heart and soul in such harmony, only existence,” says Mica.

“Ah, what’s the use?  I accept I am like the character Tin Man in THE WIZARD OF OZ, wanting to find a heart… but never really getting one from the con man wizard.” I grouch.

“Ken, you are a human in this life.  One with a big heart.  Have faith the answers will come.  Today is just not the day, perhaps.  Let’s go on with the session.  We may still get there on this Grand Trine.” says Mica, still hoping for a miracle breakthough.

“Screw the Grand Trine, there’ill be another one some other life.  Let’s call it.  Nothing more to say as ‘the love explorer from the future’.  Love?  Ha!  Me?  I know zippo of real love.  Every love I’ve had has been nothing more than parallel play style love, never true love.  As you painfully know, I am silly Pepe Le Pew in relationship.  All chase and when I do catch a woman and she loves me, “warts and all” as my Canadian fiancée once lovingly told me.  Well, what do I do?  Run!  Leaving a wake  of broken hearts in my path of destruction.  I am sick of my life-like nothingness,”  I say sounding gloomier by the second.

“Didn’t I do a good job of seeing how you’d dump me if you caught me, Pepe Le Sheetz?”  Mica teases me to cheer me up, referring to the title of a blog I wrote about my humorous love chase of her she rightly shut down and which has led to this entire discovery.  But now one that’s led to this very serious moment where all seems hopeless.  Thoughts of an early death seem pleasant compared to the loveless torture of my life, but I keep those thoughts to myself as the session is over and I don’t want to keep Mica.

Instead I say to Mica, “I need to stop looking for that magic woman, like you, who can break open the safe of my heart.  She doesn’t exist.  I am alone, like ‘Solitary Man’ the old Neil Diamond song.”

“At what age did the shutting down of your ability to receive love start, Ken?”

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As A note to my father who died in 2011:
Dear Drill Sarge Dad,
I forgive you, Pops, for your US Army basic training parent skills. You never had a dad in your life to show you better. What I don’t forgive is your dark twin within’s drunken bipolar bone breaking, flesh ripping, mind fucking child abuse.
I prefer to remember your good twin within, your Dr, Jekell, who I still love, the one who taught me to draw, fish, hunt and play piano. I forgive for you, good twin within my father, for letting your dark Mr. Hyde try to murder me and the rest of the family and burning resentment in the core of my being. A resentment I still hope to free myself of in this life. Your dark twin’s abuse does not belong to me. I give it back to you with interest penalties to deal with in the afterlife.
Your loving son,
Ken

“The easy answer is the abuse I started suffered from my “bipolar” dad as a toddler or even in the womb when he’s .  But I’ve worked through all my dad junk.” I say, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.

“You’ve not really forgiven him have you?”

“Forget about it, Mica.  I will never forgive my father for the abuse.  It’s never really going to happen.  Yeah, I’ve pretended to forgive my dad.  But he was a fucking nut job and deserves no forgiveness from me. He needed to seek medical help with his aliment he brutally inflicted on me, me and the whole family, by minute by excruciating minute!”  I say packing up my folding chair.

“You don’t have to say what you father did to abuse you was right to forgive him,” offers Mica as she packs up her folding chair too, accepting the session if toast.

As we head for the parking lot I say, “I am so done with Wild Bill, as my little brother Fred and I named him long before there the movie “Silence of the Lambs.”  Done with his ruining my life. I’ve forgiven my father all I can.  I can never completely forgive him.  Never.”

“How are you feeling saying that, Ken?” says Mica still trying to heal me into forgiving my fucked up father as we head for the parking lot.  This woman never quits.

“I feel nothing.  I am in full android mode.  Far from what I expected on my session to find answers to love on this not-so-Grand-Trine.” I kid as I tuck the folding chairs into the back of Mica’s love bug VW.

Mica smiles, sad for me, and says hoping into her love bug VW Beetle, “Don’t give up, Kenny B.  Never let your vision of one possible future, from the infinite futures out there, hold you back from being able to love fully.  The future is not set.  Look to the past which is set for answers.”

“Thanks, Mica Pica from Cosat Rica.  But I think I’ve reached the end of my rope trying to figure my love mess out.” I say grimly as though reading my own death sentence.

“Are you OK?” Mica says starting her car. “We can grab dinner together if you want to talk more.  You did cancel your Salsa lessons with me for after.”

“Yeah, remind me to never combine therapy and dance lessons again,” I say managing a sad chuckle.  “I’ll be fine.  Take care, Mica,” I lie as I walk quickly to my car and drive off into the Sedona sunset.

Mica’s session may seem like it was a failure on the surface, but after my mood lifted over expecting too much on Stephanie Sutton’s Grand Trine.  Yes, telling my cyber-self story of love and the human backup drive 2011 epic vision was deeply healing somehow.   A few days later meditating about Mica’s advice to forgive me dad in whatever way without accepting the abuse he dumped on me, it hits me:

My dad was a bipolar inner twin!  One from a good universe and one from a negative one.  I can forgive the good twin within my father without forgiving his dark twin.  The caption on the photo of my dad on this blog is my forgiveness letter to him.  I wrote after the meditation.  Still a lot of bitterness leaks from it.  But it’s a start to putting my father’s abuse truly behind me.  I have hope.

Read my next blog where I dig deep into the past as Mica Monet suggested on The Grand Trine in THE ONCE AND FUTURE KEN SHEETZ.

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

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

By Ken Sheetz

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

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

11.11.11 - The Ascension Convention, LA

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

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

Nora Delgado's Workshop

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The angels melted the vault.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

LOOKING FORWARD TO 2012

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

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

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

The Dream Must Go On

We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.  William Shakespeare

Dream Blogger – Ken Sheetz

My father, William Kenneth Sheetz, age 82, passed away today after a 3 month battle with cancer.  He died peacefully at home after the doctors felt his cancer was hopeless and sent Bill, as he liked to be called, home to hospice.

For the past few weeks my father’s spirit has traveled between the world of the living and the dead, looking in on me many times out here in Hollywood many times.

Once while I was at radio show called Life Changes with Filippo, with medium Suzane Norhtrop.  Suzane asked the audience, “Is there someone here who has father who has passed or may be in the process of passing?”  I raised my hand and Suzane said, “Your father wants you to know that he’s sorry he made some mistakes as a father but that he did the best he could.  He did not have a good example he says because his father died so young.”  I was breathless.

At the 1.1.11 New Year’s Day meditation I could feel Dad enjoying the infinity cookies we made a new universe from.

At 1.4.11 The Solar Flare mediation I felt my father, a welder, let me look through his welding helmet’s dark glass, as he did when I was a child, deep into the sun.

At the 1.11.11 TAKING BACK THE CITY OF ANGELS meditation this week I felt my father join our circle at the Hollywood sign during the meditation and make eyes at Marilyn Monroe.

This morning I was in a DreamShield planning meeting with Laura when she said, “I strongly feel you father’s presence.  And he says he likes me.” Just a few minutes later I got the call that 30 minutes after he was granted last rites that my father had passed.

Bill Sheetz, my father, was raised Irish so he wouldn’t want you to feel sad for his leaving us for his angelic work of 2012.  Rather he’d like you to celebrate his long, vibrant and adventurous life with a toast to life in this amazing world he loves so much, now and forever.

And today I felt my father wanting to me to take DreamShield to Ireland and to kiss the Blarney Stone, which inspired this tribute video to my “da”.

Enjoying these heavenly blogs?  Make a donation today at DreamShield.org

Angels From Nashville

The invariable mark of a dream is to see it come true. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Dream Blogger – Ken Sheetz

After the amazing angel powered Volcano planetary meditation that sent a plume of vision-fire to the DreamsShield, Chris wants catch up on emails and other earthly matters.  So Cali and I drop him off at the B&B and head for a nearby hotel where our sponsor for 10.10.10, Lee McCormick, is staying.

I barely notice Chris has left the SUV as I am getting instructions by the angels that our 11:11 PM meditation will be about UFOs.  I still don’t know the location but, wow, UFOs?!

I am new to all this spiritual work.  If you’d have told me 6 months ago I’d be hosting and leading planetary angel/celestial being powered meditations across the globe I’d have looked at you with the cynical raised eyebrow of a businessman who has spent the better part of his life chasing the almighty dollar rather than the almighty.

As Cali chatters at the wheel about the two wonder-soaked visions that our three person dream team have already shared with angels and she wonders about the two more planetary meditations left to come, I find myself envying Cali and Chris for the great support they give each other.  Married 17 years they are both filmmakers, a Hollywood power couple that enhance each others lives in ways I hope to find again for myself one day.  I say “again” because I’ve had many wonderful spiritual women in my life.  Sadly I just was not ready for such soulful women and so all those amazing relationships ended, some happily some not so happily.   I give thanks to the women in my life who I now see were healers for wounds that go back many lifetimes.

My musings on the amazing women of my past end as Cali spins the SUV into the parking lot of the hotel where we are meeting Lee McCormick.  Lee’s Spirit Recovery group out of Nashville has combined with a group out of Peru and looks to be about 20 strong.  I marvel at the way the gorgeous lodge has given over their cozy lobby to the work.  And I can see myself renting this entire resort by the time we reach 2012!

A series of large gongs are the backdrop for a Peruvian speaker talking about the importance of spirit in daily life and I think back 2 years ago to my visit to my doctor.

“Ken, your blood pressure’s doing OK with the medication… But may I ask you a personal question?” Dr. Lindberg says, peering over his reading glasses.

“Sure,” I say not knowing what to expect.

“Do you follow a religion?”

I look down at my feet, a bit ashamed to say, “No.  I lost my belief in all that stuff twenty years ago.”

“Why is that?” the doctor says.

“I was raised a Catholic and loved the church.  But I saw way too many bad things happening in the world to think there’s a God.  I guess my work became my religion.”

“Ken,” the doctor says shaking his head, “work is work.  The body cannot be healthy without spirit being healthy too.  And the spirit can’t be healthy without faith in some higher power to nurture it.  I’m not saying you have to sit hands folded in a church, but you need to find something meaningful for your spirit to enjoy.”

Lee McCormick, Dreamer, Author, Shaman and Singer

Lee’s arrival snaps me from my medical flashback.  The lanky good looking country western singer/shaman takes me into a hug and I return the love.  And I should love this guy!  Lee’s Spirit Recovery was the web sponsor along with his wife’s Princess Know it All website for the 10/10/10 global event, just a month earlier, that honored the vision of a gentle 2012 that I was blessed with in Italy in May.

Lee, I discovered some time after meeting him on social media assignment for BuzzBroz, was already having a 10/10/10 event in Nashville at his the Fantastic Spirit Recovery Ranch.  So we quickly joined forces and his Circles of Light event was broadcast on our 10/10/10 stream along with events in Greece, Italy (not filmed) and LA.

10/10/10 was an enormous task for my fledgling social media service BuzzBroz to orchestrate, complete with 24 hours worth of videos we gathered and YouTube from all over the world.  All intercut with live coverage broadcast on a new web channel I built for the global occasion, DreamShieldTV.  Got 24 hours to kill?  You can watch a rebroadcast of 10/10/10 and our heavenly 24 hour playlist at DreamShield.org.

A few weeks before 10/10/10 I was worrying about it all coming together on what, despite Lee’s support, was a tight budget and schedule.  But angel channel, Mica Monet, channeling the archangel Michael said,  “Simply ask for the help and it will happen.”

And Mica/Michael was right.  10/10/10 was a sensational success thanks to amazing people like Nathaniel Hansen, out of Greece, Dr. Sarah Larsen and LA location sponsor the amazing Dr. Robert Casar founder of Earth Shift Products.  Never has sponsor money gone further on one of my projects than Lee’s and Robert’s which stretched around the world and is still echoing in people’s hearts and minds from 10/10/10.

No wonder I am happy to see Lee in person again.  We had met Lee in Vegas at The Holistic Treatment Conference while I was covering Bradley’s Quick’s speech, just before leaving for Italy.  I felt an instant kinship the Lee.  In fact, it’s just writing this now that I see how strong those two happenings, Italy and Vegas, are related.  The synchronicity of 2012’s approach never fails to amaze me.

The angels told me back in May in Italy that 10/10/10, 11/11/11, and 12/12/12 are key DreamShield global event dates.  And I thought, “OK, I can handle that.  Just a once a year thing.”

But no sooner did 10/10/10 get posted with over 80 videos, and still more coming in from Nashville, that I started to get a string of other dates the angels want me to honor with more modest scale events. In fact I am still trying to figure out as I write this where I’ll find the time and money to foster all this.  Guess I’ll take Mica’s advice and ask for the help with the added work.  Important work as Mt. Shasta has shown.

Lee introduces Cali and me to a sonic healer, Richard Hite.  Richard heals with amazing gong work.  Gongs he drove all the way from Nashville to Mt. Shasta for Lee’s event.  Richard gets excited about DreamShield and energized to join our UFO meditation, despite his exhausting 37 hour road trip to be here.  Richard then invites Cali and me back for a evening gong meditation before our 11:11 PM DreamShield meditation.

After a quick nap and dinner Cali, Chris and I join Richard Hite’s meditation mid stream.  I have Chris lay on a bear skin rug with his wife Cali for the gong session.  But the bear was a little small for them both and Chris stayed to the bear rug while Cali found a spot on the couch.  I felt our 3 person dream team was getting powered up by Richard’s amazing music gong work.

Richard’s gong echoes and I see the A-frame pine lobby radiate triangles to infinity.

Richard chimes tiny flying saucer shaped Tibetan chimes, that I later learn are over three hundred years old.  They give off a high pitched tone that goes deep inside me.  A grin crosses my face as I get clarity on the celestial beings we’ll be meeting and where.  The 11:11 PM meditation is going to be right at the Dream Inn, in the little backyard sanctuary.  We’ll be visited by UFOs that carry a race aliens who are smaller than the human eye can see. They are called the Nanonites, masters of the miniature and inner space.

And as this article shows, I’m not the first by far to have a visit from the little ETs:)

ANGEL DRILL TEAM AT MT. SHASTA

“There is only one difference between a madman and me. The madman thinks he is sane. I know I am mad.” – Salvador Dali

Dream Blogger – Ken Sheetz

As you can read in the last blog post, VOLCANIC VISIONS AT MT. SHASTA , getting our three person dream team to the dormant volcano meditation spot at Mt. Shasta turned into an ordeal like a comedic AMAZING RACE episode.  For the first time on these angel guided events I am late for the 1:11 binary planetary meditation appointment at a volcano, worried if the angels are still here.

Out of breath in the thin mountain air, I scramble onto the cracked asphalt plateau and hear angels laughing at our misadventures.  My stress fades into hoots of joy.  Cali and Chris hurry up the trail to join me.

We place the last of the sacred objects, that Cali and I had each been gathering for decades without know why, upon the old ’91 Saab.  Cali pours water we had taken from the Soda Creek into three depressions on the rusty turned over bottom of the car.  At last we were ready.

Chris, Cali and I join hands and begin to meditate, to call in the angels.  As soon as the first “Ohm” leaves our lips I see two powerful angels spin the heavy old wreck like it’s light as a feather.  Faster and faster the angels spin the old  Saab.  The wreck begins to glow as it bores into the earth.  The drill the angels have made of the Saab cuts through the earth like a hot knife through butter.  In less than a minute the angel drilling team reaches the earth’s core.

Three beautiful female earth angels, that seem Native American, protect each of the human dream team with a shield of golden energy that crackles and sizzles in the fresh mountain air.  Glowing white steam of shoots from the Saab’s drill hole, bursting through the clouds and intersecting with the rainbow.

As Cali, Chris and I raise our arms the steam column hurtles for the edge of outer space.  Now the steam column turns bright orange, feeding magma energy for the DreamShield — the spinning circles of bright energy that ignited my first angel powered vision in Italy back in May — releasing volcanic pressures all over the earth.

A great chorus of angels sing what sounds like a Native American chant to keep the energy flow going.  The heat is so enormous I see the volcano shimmer in the mountain air.  If not for the three angels shielding us our dream team would evaporate.

Satisfied, the angels reverse the spin of the old Saab, raising it up and away from the earth’s core, upwards though the layers of rock, crystals and oil to the surface where this all began.  The angels release the ancient wreck from it’s mighty task and vanish.  Our “ohm” chant ends and the column of magma turns to steam once again and sucks back into the earth with a loud rush of air that almost pulls me into the vortex as the vision fades and reality returns.  I am cold I realize.

Our team breaks hands and I take a deep drink of Mt. Shasta water from my bottle. “I’m beat.  Usually I feel energized after this work,” I worry out loud.

“That’s because we are not done with the work!” says Cali, eyes twinkling in the afternoon sun.

ENCORE FOR THE ANGELS

Cali plucks stones from the wreck and jams them into fissures in the reddish purple asphalt looking plateau.  I help her place sticks and flower petals into the wounded surface.  Chris is gazing at the volcano’s top that swirls with clouds.  The mountain peak looks from this angle very much like the profile of the old Native American who had led us on a wild goose chase earlier.

Chris, cynical about New Age stuff, seems to be doing all this work to please his spiritual wife Cali.  But, showing signs of awakening, Chris has been surprising me all day with the angel imagery he spots.  And Chris surprises me once again when he suggests we fan out in a wide triangle.

Chris perches himself on a mound of earth.  And, looking a bit like Moses in the fading sunlight, Chris reaches out his arms to Cali and me below.  The connection I feel between the group re-energizes me.

A triangle of energy forms between our three person dream team that flows with the same blue angel energy I was first flooded with in Italy.  The triangle is nature’s strongest geometric form and our trio’s triangle now pulls energy down from the DreamShield spinning high above the earth.

I’m stunned as a pair of red triangle frames form over my eyes to aid my vision.  The heavenly spectacles allow me to see earth from space.  I gasp as a healing tremor ripples across the entire planet in a triangular shimmering blue wave.  Fissures slam closed deep within the earth.  Unbridled tectonic energies, visualized in movies like “2012” to rip the planet apart in 2012, are slowed to normal.  The blue triangle spreads out, overlapping upon itself to heal the weary earth.

I look up a Chris on the mound, the non-believer still looks like Moses his arms outstretched, giving us his all.  And then, as Chris lowers his arms the work is done and the vision fades along with my heavenly spectacles.  But I know these magical glasses are an angelic gift I’ll be using many times in future planetary meditations with the angels.

“Wow…” was all I can softly say.  I stand tall,  completely re-energized and let loose a “Yahoo!” that echoes in the mountain air.

Later, over lunch at the Black Bear Cafe in town, Chris seems to have returned to being the cynic.  He’s mildly annoyed by Cali and I recounting our spiritual adventures of the day.  Since we are only half done with the Mt. Shasta planetary meditations, still two more to go, I am still hoping Chris will realize everything created on this planet starts first as thought, including us… for what is love but a thought?  And are we not all born from that moment our parents first met and thought, “Wow, I really like this person!”

My cell rings before we can discuss this further. It is Lee McCormick, a country western singer out of Nashville and head of Spirit Recovery, a DreamShield sponsor. In fact, Lee’s being in Mt. Shasta on these dates is the reason we took this trip in the first place.  Chris asks to be dropped off at the Dream Inn to catch up on emails, this was a week day after all. So after we let Chris off to do some biz, Cali and I head over to meet the musician and spiritual guru, a powerful shaman, the amazing Lee McCormick and his dream team from Nashville.

Enjoying these amazing spiritual adventures?  Make a PayPal donation today at DreamShield.org.

Volcanic Visions at Mt. Shasta

I like dreams of the future better than the history of the past. – Thomas Jefferson

Dream Blogger – Ken Sheetz

Our successful angel-powered earthquake meditation, facilitated by our tiny three person dream team working beside the gurgling Soda Creek, still buzzes in my head.   I bounce in the back seat as Cali navigates the SUV up the bumpy dirt road, shaken to my core about the majestic planetary scale of the angels’ work growing giant white trees all the along the San Andreas fault to save the planet from the tectonic 2012 nightmares.  I am so honored to be doing this work that I fight back tears of joy.

Despite the urgency of reaching the volcano meditation site, we have yet to scout, by 1 PM I cannot resit asking Cali to make a quick stop to take pics of a gorgeous temple beside the pot-holed dirt road.  The small stone temple dazzles with a fountain at it’s core. But the temple is fenced off so we must take our pics through the chain links.  I notice one of the fence posts is the stump of a once mighty pine.  It’s bark is crushed by rusty cables.  I gather Cali and Chris to take my hands and we take a minute to pay our respects to this once mighty pine.  Then we are off.

Back on I-5 a cloud formation that looks remarkably like an atomic bomb’s mushroom cloud rises above the mountains.  I’ve never see anything so perfectly like the mushroom clouds that haunted my 1950’s childhood when it seemed life could be snuffed out at the sound of an air raid siren.  The night before leaving I was sent a fantastically paranoid sounding article about a nuclear bomb getting planted this very day on the San Andreas fault by extremists to launch a massive earthquake and I share the story with Chris and Cali.

The couple looks a bit shaken at this nuclear fear, fear that sounds too much like Lex Luthor’s battle with Superman in the first Superman film for me to take seriously.  Work with the angels allows me to let go of fears of a nuclear war that have troubled me since The Cuban Missile Crisis.  I blessedly know now that the angels will only let us go just so far before they step in.

And perhaps this angels work about saving us from nuclear war has already happened.  As we search for a road to get us to the volcano I tell the Rossens the amazing true story how for six months President Clinton simply had lost the nuclear launch codes.  Imagine that, the most powerful nuclear power on earth unable to make nuclear war for six months because the launch codes were lost.

Could anything show how simple it would be for mischievous angels, who seem to love misplacing my house keys for fun sometimes, to stop a nuclear war?

Sure enough when I would return home from Mt. Shasta there would be the 24/7 fear machine of our modern media speculating on the North Korea tensions escalating into a nuclear war with China.  Seriously?  China nuke the biggest consumer of their products, America?  I sigh as I type this, glad to know the angels don’t even need to handle something this silly.

The white SUV finally reaches a road that looks promising at the base of a dump and I feel this is the route to reach the planetary meditation spot.  But Cali stops to ask an old Native America man for directions.

“Does that road lead up to the volcano?” Cali asks.

The old Native American gazes at the road downhill from the dump and seems to take forever to say…

“No.  That road is a dead end.”

It seems to me the old fellow is a trickster spirit but I hold my tongue in the backseat.

The old Native American squints into the sloping winter sun, past the dormant volcano, points and speaks very slowly,

“Get back onto the I-5 and take the first exit, there are some tourist viewing spots on that side.”

I check my watch it’s 12:50 PM. If these directions are wrong I worry we’ll be late for the 1 PM meditation.  Despite my better instincts I keep my mouth shut as Cali heads onto the 5.

Sure enough, as I suspected, we seem to be on a road to nowhere.  There are no tourist spots apparent to us.  We try backtracking to a rainbow of multi-colored semi trucks beside the road at the midpoint between the exit to the dump and the north side of the mountain.

Tension rises in the SUV as 1 PM comes and goes and we not getting any closer to the volcano.

“Back to the dump! ” I instruct Cali a bit harshly, angry with myself for not checking that road myself for this important volcanic meditation.

As we reach the exit for the dump it’s 1:11 and we are all stressed.  Just then a rainbow appears leading to the dump.  A sure sign my instincts had been right.  I’d done my homework and as it turns out there is a low level turf war going on between the New Agers and Native Americans over the very spiritual Mt. Shasta.  Perhaps this is why we were sent on a wild goose chase.

I am annoyed as Cali stops the SUV to take a picture of the rainbow.  Cali is trying to get the perfect photo when I tell her time is running out.

I shout to be heard over the whipping wind,”We have to roll!  Angels have no concept of time and they need these binary dates and times to synch up with us. We might miss them!”  Soon as I say it I laugh out loud and add, “Man, if you’d have told me I’d be worrying about angels making appointments 6 months ago I’d have said you were nuts!”

Cali still resists moving on, trying for the perfect photo of the dazzling rainbow.

“Cali, let’s go!” I shout to no avail as Cali seems transfixed trying to photo the rainbow.  Looking back on my own diversion at the stone temple I begin to think we are all being blocked somehow.

Chris finally coaxes his wife back into the car with a simple, “Cali…”

Finally we’re off, racing for the rainbow above the dump, not knowing if the untested road is going to get us there.   I’ve never been late for a planetary meditation with angels before and I feel me blood pressure pound in my ears.

I point to a road.  “There, that’s the road leads to the dump!”

“No it’s not.  The we want’s road’s further up, ” says Cali, still sounding peeved about my rushing her rainbow shot.

“Humor me.  I’m willing to bet you 100 bucks this is the right road.” I grouse, starting to sound like a grumpy Larry David.

Cali sweetly complies.  I should have kept my mouth shut and let Cali drive as we are shortly in a dusty rock quarry.  Another dead end.  My watch shows 1:20 as I groan, “You were right, Cali. I don’t get what’s holding us back.  I never get lost!  I owe you a hundo.  Take us to the dump your way.”

Cali cracks a victorious smile to Chris and takes the SUV up the correct road.  The old Native American is long gone as we head through the dump for the back road I wish I would have tested a half an hour earlier.

I look up at the majestic volcano we can’t seem to get closer to, like an invisible force field is holding us back from the work.

This sleeping giant is one of 4 dormant volcanoes in the area.  The inn keeper where we are staying, The Dream Inn, explained over breakfast that the volcano blows every 1,000 years or so.  And since it blew about 100 years ago we are safe.  That last blast was so powerful it was seen by ships out on the Pacific a hundred miles away.

Turns out the old Native American was both right and wrong about the road.  It does dead end about half a mile above the dump for car travel, but there’s a path I spot that can be easily hiked on foot to the volcano.

I check my watch as I hop from the SUV.  We are late but still within the binary 1 PM hour.  I scurry over the buckled lost road, well ahead of Chris and Cali who are unsure about all this.   I reach a plateau at the base of the volcano, topped with reddish purple asphalt, as if perhaps a vast long forgotten tourist attraction parking lot once stood here beneath the volcano.

Chris and Cali hurry now, close behind at my excited shout, “Whoo hoo!  We’re in business!”

But before we can meditate with the angels we mortals all need a rest stop.  So we each head into the brush in 3 directions.  I am zipping up as I hear Cali’s squeal from the brush.

“Chris, Ken!  You guys have to see this!”

Chris and I hunt for where Cali’s excited shouts are coming from, and lo and behold there stands a grinning Cali beside an abandoned ’91 Saab.  Cali’s bullet riddled discovery has been here forever from the rust. It sits upside down on it’s roof, trunk pointing at the volcano.

Cali, who has been remarkable this whole trip with her insights, has brought amazing stones with her that she found in Italy 10 years ago when she saw miniature angels in a wrestling match with dark spirits.  We quickly place the amazing stones around the wasted Saab along with some sacred objects I’ve brought along of my own; a small glass paperweight of the world, the only object I took from my home in the divorce for reasons I did not understand at the time, and a palm print of my daughter’s hand that her grandfather carved for her from a 200 year-old oak plank.

We invite in the angels.  They are laughing, happy we made it in time.

Well, let’s let the video do the rest of the talking.

Read about the vision we saw at ANGEL DRILL TEAM AT MT. SHASTA!

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