DARK AWAKENING: A Mother’s Journey

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Mom age 18

Today my 86-year-old mother sets off on a road trip from her condo in Vegas to try to right the ship of my brother’s wrecked life in Florida.  She’s passing through Sedona about noon today and we’ll have lunch unless my stepfather, also 86, gets on his epic only stopping for restroom breaks binge he falls prey to.  I hope not.  I’d love to hug mom as thanks for her courage in traveling the 6,000 mile round trip.

Followers of my blog and Facebook page know that my brother fell off a 27 year recovery wagon in his retirement journey to Florida.  He wasted his 13 day forced recovery when he almost died last fall of bleeding ulcers and went through two near deaths experiences blogged of here.

Fred’s epic fall from sobriety is all too common these days.  Sadly, even only 10% of AA members stay sober and clean.  And that modest 10% makes them #1 on the planet as the best for a sustained recovery after detox.  Without an AA support group the chance of a relapse is almost 100%. I had studied all this trying to get my brother into recovery when we almost lost him in the fall.  His ego would not permit this help.  Ego really is like an elephant that likes to sit on your house.

I believe, but have no proof, Fred quickly fell into the drug culture that plagues Florida.  All of us in the family that have leaned on Fred as a rock during his 27 year sobriety were shocked how fast my brother fell from grace.  Over only a 90 day period he went from the proud owner of a new home and puppy to be arrested 3 times, one of those times supposedly for animal abuse of his new puppy.

Though she’s making mistakes enabling my brother, I’ve been amazed at the depth my mother’s love in trying to rescue my brother from himself.  I’ve tried to tell her unless he gets into recovery he’ll end up right back in jail again.  Mom does have a financial stake in my brother’s mess he’s made of his life as she co-signed on the mortgage that got him the house of his dreams.   My brother has consented from jail to have the house sold.  There are limits to what mom will do to help Fred.  She’s refused to let him lein the house to bond his freedom.  A wise thing as my brother was arrested fleeing a warrant for his arrest in his dark awakening you can read more about on the blog.  I plan to record this whole chain of events as a cautionary tale to people drinking and drugging too much, and falling prey to today’s overzealous legal system.  Sick people like Fred need treatment not prison.

Mom comes from a generation unfamiliar with the dangers of drugs like crystal meth and crack cocaine and how they can transform a person into a criminal, make them lie and cheat and steal for the drugs of choice.  I’ve been doing my best to educate my mother and explaining why enabling can make things worse in the end for an addict.  The mortgage she co-signed compels her to take action.  Age 86 is not the time to lose your nest egg to a son who fell so low as to be negligent of his duties to care for a house Mom helped him get.

Before I broke off all conversation with my kid brother, he was relishing in a childhood memory of a nasty prank he pulled of disconnecting the transmission on mom’s car.  It totaled her silver blue T-bird and could have killed her.  I was furious that for all these years my brother had gotten away with pinning this evil prank on our drunken father.  Fred got mad at me for placing the blame where it belonged.

I am blessed to have never drank and drugged, aside from some college experiments and the famed 3 martini lunches of the 80s business world.  Addiction has never had a grip on me.  Seeing what my mother must do makes me ever more grateful that I am an addiction fighter.  See my blog about a meditation to end addiction in the world in Nashville in 2011 for more on this.

My brother Fred makes NBC News in Florida for all the wrong reasons.
My brother Fred makes NBC News in Florida for all the wrong reasons.

Someone asked me recently, “Aren’t you worried about sharing such personal stories about your brother’s problems?”

I answered, “Sadly he’s way out there in the public eye.”  My brother has even made the local Florida TV news and is featured for his supposed puppy abuse on a national website.  Fred’s gaunt face in mug shots looks drug induced to my sharp eye serving an addiction radio show as their media adviser.  One day if he wants to be in my life again he is going to have to prove he’s not been on drugs or admit and ask forgiveness for putting the family through his hell.

A powerful Sedona psychic says if Fred gets into recovery his life ahead is especially positive. Recovery treatment, even if this all just alcohol related, is mandatory in Fred’s possible reentry to my life.  After all I said he would be cut off from me to give him incentive to stay clean and sober not to truly give up on him.

My mother said, “Kenneth, aren’t you afraid of making Fred not sending him money in jail?  What if he shows up at your place in Sedona?  He knows where you live.”

“Mom, if I was not afraid of my abusive father why would I be afraid of a brother who has turned abusive.?  If he shows up on my doorstep without recovery plan that’s been in effect a year he’s in for a visit to the Sedona police and the AZ police are even tougher than Florida cops,” I said with a calm that surprised me.

Fear fighting is one of the primary mission of DreamShield.  I won’t live in fear of governments, corporations and certainly not messed up brothers.  I told mom, “I could die crossing the street if it’s my time to go.  If I die at the hands of drug addled brother I surrender to that.  I do not live in fear of anyone or anything and I suggest mom you do the same.”

Addiction is at the heart of much of the world’s issues.  And as a society we are addicted to war, oil, meat consumption and more.  I am proud of Mom and send her a DreamShield ET escort to watch over her for a safe return to Las Vegas, a place she retired to for her love of Keno.  Keno is her pet addiction.  One that’s well under control.  Mom plays with nickels.  Now, she plays in the biggest gamble of her life, saving her son’s life savings and freeing herself from his mortgage.

10467477_10152213797132029_1962029261_oUpdate:  Yay!  Happy to have connected to mom and wish her well on the journey.  My stepfather Nick is like an open book.  He’s not happy about the trip and all the driving ahead. 

Mom held my hand as I walked her to the car after treating her and Nick to lunch and said, “I know we met up on this trip to Florida with you for reason, Kenneth.”

I smiled.  Squeezed her hand and said, “Maybe it was for me to lend you my luck.  Stay focused.  Get yourself off Fred’s mortgage.  Use the police if any of druggy friends show up to cause trouble.  Fred’s the one in jail.  Not you. The law is on your side and you have a right to clean up this mess.”  And I then gave her a big kiss on the cheek for luck and I led them back to the freeway and off to Florida.

 

 

 

 

 

THE RICH AS VICTIMS

“Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” – Mathew 19:24

By Ken Sheetz

The rich 1% are victims of the system like the rest of us. I know this from being a rich man in the 80s myself. At age 37 I was worth about $12 million back in 1989. Or about $30 million in 2012 dollars. So I was on that lower end scale of the 1%. A poor rich man.

The level of work and dedication needed to build and maintain wealth is staggering. It left me with no personal life, a neglected wife and two neglected kids. My clients like Oprah and my Chicago skyscraper I was building had far more of my love and attention. That’s where the money was. My family was far down my list.

What was driving me? Lack of self-worth. I felt the more money I made the more I could fill the void. A void created by our society. A shared lie.

Is there some cabal of evil people creating this shared lie? No. Just some overachievers trying to make their meaningless life of the pursuit of money have meaning, like I used to do.

Me far right in 1991 with Oprah
Me far right in 1991 with Oprah

I did not choose to leave Mt. Olympus to seek these answers. The worst commercial real estate crash in history gave me the boot from money paradise. I lost over $80 million for me and my investors. To protect the family assets from the bankers we, legally and totally above-board, put everything we could into my wife’s name. Then she divorced me and kept it all. I left the marriage with the clothes on my back and a paperweight globe of the world I took from the living room curio.

I went into a dark depression that carried me to the shores of Lake Michigan, contemplating suicide one winter night in ’92. Alone and only getting to see my estranged kids, 10 and 13, who remain estranged some 20 years later, just every other weekend. I felt no one would miss me if I stepped off the snowy rock into the icy lake. I braced myself for the jump to my death.

But something stopped me. A voice of reason within said, “Let your old life die here, Ken. Begin a new life.” And I turned from the icy shore, got in my car and began my life over.

I still had my rep as Chicago’s 1987 broker of the year and the builder of Harpo Studios. I still had my wealthy business friends who owned half of Chicago. I still had all my creative gifts of great taste and style from my education as an interior architect. I still had my 40-year-old body, though in bad shape from lack of exercise I could rebuild that body.

Unfortunately I still had a low self-esteem from abused childhood. It still haunts me and thwarts my efforts to have a mate. I lack an ability to trust and a overreact to simple give and take in relationship. Far less than I used to but I accept some part of me asked to be this way for my work. A

I pledge to make this an amazing year for fans of my work. I have found myself and love me for who I am. Took me to 61 to get here. I live my BFA now. I live as an artist of film and the web. It’s not been easy getting here. I have had a lot of help from family and friends who bankrolled my film career that began at 40 when I walked away from the easy money of real estate.

It’s all converging now in my new home in Sedona I am renting. I have an amazing housemate I adore but the feeling is not mutual. But we are using this non-romantic relationship to grow further. I am learning to be less controlling, less angry, less manipulative and she is learning from me wealth attraction and managed anger. We call this home nestled at the foot of Chimney Rock the Green Sanctuary. At least this is how I see things. My housemate likely sees things as totally different. Perhaps that I am something of a jerk.

Still of Me and Patrick Opening Portal
Me Right 2014 with Scientist Patrick Flanagan

Most important in Sedona, my silly personal life aside, there’s much work to be done in 2014 helping great men like G Patrick Flanagan get his inventions that have helped me reach this new level of awareness and health and reverse aging.

I’ve even begun thinking when I am 37 again, the age I love me most at, of marrying and having kids and doing it all right this time. Family first. I will not be a slave to the lies of meaningless wealth accumulation. Not to say I will not become more wealthy than ever. But I will keep only what I need and enjoy and give back to help balance and save this precious world. And if not in this life, I am ready for the next.

So forget the conspiracy theories about the nine families seeking to poison and wreck the same world they share with the rest of us. Greed is the enemy, not the rich being manipulated by it. We need to rise above it all. To seek together all of rich and poor alike a new paradigm based on love for each other. It’s really about taking action and not just thinking it will happen. It’s about thinking and doing.

And what I am doing for Dr. Flanagan right now is building a crowd funder to make this a smarter world with his amazing Neurophone.  Click the link to join the pre-launch and learn how he is making the world a smarter place.

MIKHAIL’S VENUS CONNECTION

“Nature uncovers the inner secrets of nature in two ways: one by the force of bodies operating outside it; the other by the very movements of its innards.”— Mikhail Lomonosov

By Ken Sheetz

MikhailHappy first Sunday morning of the new Golden Age long predicted by the Mayans. It is a time for rejoicing and for new world answers to old world problems.

Much is rapidly unfolding for me in Sedona where I am filming famed scientist Dr. G Patrick Flanagan.

A year ago the Damanhur of Italy gave me a clue about a past life they said as a prominent Russian physicist who led a team of scientist in the 19th century.

The lead for this past life comes the Damanhur a highly advanced eco-friendly, ET believing, esoteric physics world-famed self-sustaining community that studies past life and much more. I bless them for the clue. It’s been a busy year and only now using the power of meditation and Google have I found the life.

I am thrilled that my first Sunday mediation of the Golden Age has connected me to a past life in the 19th century as Russian physicist.

“Curiously unsung in the West, Mikhail Lomonosov broke ground in physics, chemistry, and astronomy; won acclaim as a poet and historian; and was a key figure of the Russian Enlightenment.”

– PhysicsToday.org

Read my past life story here. http://www.physicstoday.org/resource/1/phtoad/v65/i2/p40_s1?bypassSSO=1

Today I ask the eagle to reconnect me. Eagles I have seen this morning fly to the heavens, to the morphic field, as Rupert Sheldrake has dubbed it, the shared field of our collective intelligence. There eagles, on behalf of all life, hunt for wisdom and bring it to earth.

I need that wisdom seek an answer to the biggest issue plaguing me and our world, love out of balance.

Wish me luck in my meditations.

Namaste,
Ken Sheetz
http://dreamshield.org/

PS The eagle rock formation I took the photo for this DreamShield art is from my train meditation yesterday. It’s called Angel Rock by the tour. An angel of an eagle from my train car’s angle.

Backup-Drive for Earth’s Love

‘The most pitiful among men is he who turns his dreams into silver and gold.” – Kahlil Gibran

DreamBlogger – Ken Sheetz

Dr. Sarah Larsen in Nashville on Valentine's Day

The day before Valentine’s Day Dr. Sarah Larsen was homesick for her kids and husband back in LA.  And who could blame her?  Since her amazing 10.10.10 LA event she had been on the road for DreamShield almost more than she had been home.

The angels had demanded much of her and she’d gladly answered the call.  Her love and wisdom have benefited this grouchy reluctant light worker greatly, and though her patience with me for all the times of wanted to quit had dimmed a bit, it still shone brightly in her imploring eyes.

So I checked with the airline to see if we could cut our trip a few days short and get Sarah home in time for Valentine’s Day.  Alas for the homesick doctor, airfares were to costly to make the change.   In better times I would have rewarded such a tireless worker with tickets but spirit work does not pay much in earthly terms and so the doctor would have to spend Valentine’s in Nashville.  Sarah made the best of it getting in touch with old friends while I caught up on my blogging about the trip.

On the eve before Valentine’s Day as I lay down on Rachel and Robert’s day bed I thought about an article I’d read on the plane from LA about the pole shift in Mayan predictions about 2012.  Some of these so-called experts on the human mind and 2012 speculate humanity will lose its entire memory due to this fact our thoughts are stored as electromagnetic energy.

I thought about Sarah losing memory of the love of her husband Greg and her kids Tye-Tye and Jamsine and of me and my family and friends in such a drastic pole shift.  Yep.  It was another one of those negative visualization fear things, the ungentle 2012 stuff we undo in DreamShield.

So despite my total exhaustion from the Medicine Wheel planetary addiction meditation that had brought us here, I asked the angels what we could do to protect the memory of everyone’s love for one another on our little blue world.

In a flash of divine inspiration I knew all the empty space left inside me that I was feeling from Lee McCormick’s Spirit Recovery ranch addiction meditation had made me a storage receiver, a vessel, to hold a back up copy all of earth’s love.  “Me?  Holder of earth’s love?” I grouched to myself or whatever angels might be listening.

I wrapped myself in blankets like a robe and sat myself up on the edge of the day bed.  I looked up at the eye shaped transom over Robert and Rachel’s front door.  The transom became a bright computer screen filled with data.  A beam of data shot from the transom as the memories of love of all earth’s billions flooded into my mind.  I’d had “downloads” – a light worker term that I think sounds too sc-fi –before, but nothing on this scale.  This was the mother of all downloads.

Now the next wave of love data for all living creatures, big and small, flooded into me.  I’d not expected to be this Noah’s Ark of love.  But I accepted it’s beauty with an amazed smile.  Next came the love of the trees for the sky.  Last even our bacteria’s love flooded me.  “Bacteria feel love?  Come on.” I griped to the angels who simply giggled at the sight of this exhausted middle-aged businessman turned reluctant light worker wrapped in a blanket like an Indian chief.

Yep, I feel many times I was picked for this work because it’s some kind of cosmic reality show.  I must be a hoot in the Orion’s belt system.

Next morning, Valentine’s Day, Sarah asked me how I’d slept.  “Not much.” I said, adding like this was all her fault somehow, ” I was a receiver of a back up copy of all the love of the earth all night.  Today sometime I’ve been told broadcast this love into the back up copy of the Parthenon in downtown Nashville.”

Sarah Larsen simply smiled and said, “Cool.  I’m going to call Greg and wish him a Happy Valentine’s Day.”  And with an attitude like this sort of thing happens every day Sarah headed off to another room to call Greg.

Later that amazing Valentine’s Day where I felt my head might explode it was so full of love, I in fact made the trip to the Parthenon on my own while Sarah went to an exhibit Greg’s art.  Years earlier the two met and fell in love here in Nashville before marrying and moving to LA.

Rachel and Sarah dropped me off promising to pick me up at 5:30 PM as my cell phone was out of juice.  I walked around the Parthenon, an exact copy of the original in Greece built in 1897, perfect for a back copy holder of earth’s love, walked about it three times I was told by the angels, I felt like some kind of lonely odd ball.  But I did my planetary meditation job and the couples perched on the steps kissed as the red lights of Valentine’s Day came up.

This made me all the more lonely.  I’ve not been in a conventional relationship in years.  Why pick a brokenhearted divorced man as the holder of earth’s love I wonder as I made the video you see below?  I suppose my empty heart left more space for the angels to make me a vessel of all earth’s love.

I asked as a reward for this crazy work — hey it never hurts to ask –as I circled the Parthenon, completing this ritual of love transmission to the statue of Athena within the structure, that one day through this work I can find a great mate who can put up with the paradox of my pessimistic yet optimistic nature.

So, dear reader, page mark this blog.  And if the the North and South pole’s shift come 2012, as many so-called experts predict, and you wake up without a memory of who you love, get thee to Nashville and the Parthenon.  The back-up memory of all you love awaits there in the heart of the statute of the goddess Athena.

What’s cool is the angels tell me they update the memories each night into Athena.  Angels are so clever.  The little stinkers.

PS.  In typical light worker fashion Sarah was late picking me up.  I was not dressed warm enough as the sun set over the Parthenon and I sat there shivering in the cold like some homeless nut case for over 20 minutes past the agreed to 5:30 pickup time.  I found myself wishing to be back working with my old Chicago real estate buddies, by whom you could set your watch, while making millions as I had in the past when I built skyscrapers instead of this silly nonsense.

Don’t worry.  I got over it when I saw Greg and the kids welcome Sarah home from Nashville at LAX with such love.  Yep.  I’m still on the job of a gentle 2012.  Here’s Sarah daughter Jasmine “Jazzy” singing along with her dad at an Agape concert.  Who wouldn’t be homesick in Nashville, on Valetine’s Day with love like this waiting for them back in LA?

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