THE WISCONSIN PROJECT

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

By Ken Sheetz

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

Is the meditation done yetWe must remain patient despite the fact things will still look messed up on our world for sometime.  You see, I was told in Antarctica for 6 days, starting 12.12.12 to help halt the pole shift and transmute all that negative energy into a shift of human consciousness through a series of meditations I was guided to perform there, that the shift into the Golden Age will still take 50 years to manifest fully.  The ETs explain  earth manifests at this planetary scale at the rate of a large tree growing from seed to maturity.

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

THE WISCONSIN PROJECT

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

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

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

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

Mashup by Ken Sheetz from Nasa Photos
Mashup by Ken Sheetz from Nasa Photos

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Talk With 1991 Me

It’s 2014. I’m meditating in my new home in Sedona, trying to make contact with my 1991 self.

I see myself at age 39, working late in my offices at 303 West Madison in downtown Chicago, on the 19th floor. The staff has gone home. I’m still grinding—working harder and longer than everyone else, as usual.

It’s January 4, 1991. Snow drifts past the big dual-pane office windows.

On my desk is an invitation to a late New Year’s Eve office party a competitor is throwing in the East Loop. I’m debating whether to go. Parties weren’t my thing in 1991—and they aren’t now. My brain hurts at parties. I’m a one-on-one person.

Across the street looms the under-construction skyscraper I’m the managing partner of: One North Franklin. I’m tense as hell. The curtain wall—the skin of the building—is badly behind schedule. If the project is late, I stand to lose $8 million in guarantees.

So 1991 me paces the office like a caged animal.

Back in 2014, I’m thrilled to discover this time-machine compartment of my brain—one that’s always been there, waiting for me to open the hatch and fire it up. I can easily read my 1991 mind:

Dammit. Is the GC still working? Should I chew his ass out now for screwing up my building—or wait until Monday?

It’s worth noting: I’d been having conversations like this with myself long before my spiritual awakening in 2010—before Italy, before the ET-angel encounters, before the meditation work that eventually took me to Antarctica. (If you want the wider arc of that journey, it lives over on DreamShieldPlanetaryMeditations.com.)

So answering myself now feels oddly natural.

“It won’t matter,” I say to my 1991 self. “Nothing you do is going to save this project. Go home to your wife and kids.”

1991 Ken stops dead mid-pace.

“Where did that voice come from?”

He hurries to the door and peers into the empty hallway.

“I’m in your head,” I say.

“Gloria said I was working too hard and would go nuts.”

“Your wife is right about the working too hard part,” I reply. “But you’re not going nuts.”

A phone call from a client snaps the connection. An hour later, I’m back—this time riding along in his emerald-green Jaguar as he drives home to Lake Forest.

“I’m back,” I say—nearly causing him to swerve off the Kennedy Expressway.

“Who are you—and how are you inside my head?”

“Who do I sound like?”

“Dad?” he asks, uneasy.

“Way off. I’m you—Ken Sheetz, 23 years in the future.”

He laughs nervously. “Time-traveling from the future? Prove it. Tell me something no one else could possibly know.”

I don’t hesitate.

“You and Gloria had a terrible fight on your honeymoon night when she didn’t want sex.”

He goes quiet.

“Jesus. You are me. Or I’m losing my mind.”

“I can prove it another way. Tomorrow—January 5, 1991—the Redskins beat the Eagles 20–6. The final score comes from a third-quarter field goal. Randall Cunningham throws for exactly 205 yards.”

“What’s Google?” he asks.

“A company that will become the source of almost all human knowledge.”

He shakes his head. “If that game happens exactly like you say, I’ll believe you.”

“It’s as real as that Jaguar you won’t be driving much longer.”

“What—am I going to crash tonight?”

“Worse. You’re heading for a complete financial meltdown. In a year, you’ll be returning that Jaguar on foot.”

The unraveling comes fast. Commercial loan failures. Banks seizing properties. By 1994, nearly every Loop building goes back to lenders. One North Franklin becomes the poster child. Barclays Bank loses $80 million—and makes an example of you.

“You’ll survive,” I tell him. “But not as the man you are now.”

By 1992, I’m broke. By 1995, I’m making films. By 2002, I’m in Hollywood. The money sucks—but I’m happier than I’ve ever been. (That pivot—and everything after it—connects to the broader body of work at OveractiveImaginationPictures.com.)

Gloria leaves when the money disappears. The divorce is brutal. The kids are hurt badly. One nearly doesn’t survive their teenage years.

“This isn’t a warning,” I finally tell him. “It’s a gift.”

I urge therapy. Anger work. Gentleness. Putting family first. Leaving the skyscraper deal early. Taking cash—any cash. Starting a small corporate film company. Naming it BuzzBroz.

I tell him the truth I never wanted to face:

The wealth was a trap.
The rage was inherited.
The collapse was the opening.

He tries to fight it. Of course he does. 1991 Ken is ruthless—Chicago real estate tough. A man built out of pressure, swagger, fear, and a need to prove something to a drill-sergeant father who never offered the kind of love you can actually stand on.

And then 1991 Ken—my 1991 Ken—does something surprising: he gets creative.

“What if I change the past,” he says, “and a new future splits off? No paradox. You’re just one version of my 2014 possible selves.”

“That’s actually quite possible,” I say. “A 21st-century theory called multiverses.”

As he pulls into the driveway of my Lake Forest mansion, I push one last time—faster, like the signal is fading.

“Be kinder to Gloria. Get out of the deal before spring. Take whatever you can get. Cash in the bank is king. Don’t wait for pride to do your accounting.”

“And therapy,” I add. “I mean real therapy. I didn’t do it until after the divorce, when I almost killed myself from suicidal depression.”

“Christ,” he says. “This gets grim.”

“Yes,” I say. “But you’re made of indestructible stuff. The question is whether your wife and kids have to pay the price for your anger.”

There are entire libraries on what trauma does to families—and how anger gets handed down like a cursed heirloom. If you want a grounded, mainstream overview of how therapy helps people rewire emotional patterns, the American Psychological Association’s psychotherapy resources are a solid place to start.

He threatens to bet big on the Redskins. He threatens to invent time travel and beat my ass. We laugh—tearfully—because even at my most intense, the heart was still there.

Then he opens the front door.

Gloria and our two kids—Jon and Janelle, ages 12 and 9—run to greet him with hugs and kisses.

And in that instant, both versions of me know:

It’s not too late.

I end the meditation in tears.

This really happened(s). This is not fiction.

I save(d) a family. My own.

And I still had time for my daily meditation hike in Sedona. If you’re into meditation as a practical tool—not as a personality—some of my calmer work lives at CoolestMeditationEver.com, and my civic sanity project lives at PoliticalCoolDown.com.

Peace.

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.

FirefoxScreenSnapz050
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?”

IMG_0542
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.

DreamShield’s Oneness Dance Celebration

“Unity to be real must stand the severest strain without breaking.” – Mahatma Gandhi

DreamBlogger – Ken Sheetz

Bob and Laura

I was back a week in Hollywood from Nashville, Wisconsin, Florida, Nassau and the Bermuda Triangle from 7 back to back planetary meditations from such amazing stuff as closing the damaged Merkabah in the Bermuda Triangle, reducing hurricanes, curing earth of addictions, making a backup copy for all the love of the earth and more.

Exciting and uplifting as it all was, promoting, filming, conductimng the meditations and distributing it all on the web in the various outlets I’d created for the work to achieve DreamShield’s heavenly task to help 1 billion people to meditate as one to shift us in to a new golden age, I was exhausted.

Despite my exhaustion I was getting “angel” messages that a 3.11.11 meditation was a critical mediation date and that we should dance.

Laura De Leon, who blessedly for me and the planet gives the DreamShield project so much of her great spiritual experience and talent, was busy helping her husband take her mother-in-law through hospice. So I was minus her usual contributions.

Bella

On top of that I was then busy helping Laura get back and forth to Bob at the nursing home and doing some simple chores at their lovely home near Universal Studios.  So I was minus me.  It was the first time in my life I’ve humbled myself to simply be of service to friends in need.  I especially enjoyed caring for the Jenkis family’s little dog Bella.  Laura had done so much helping me with the complex grief of losing my father it was the least I could do.

When I walked into the nursing home, dropping Laura off to Bob and his sweet mother, who was a little nearer to death each tender day, I passed old folks.  I’m in my 50s but as the old eyes raised to look at me from their wheel chairs I felt like a kid.  The angels had gifted me by taking away my old fear I had of dying in one of these places one day myself.  You see, I’d been an orderly in a nursing home in college and feared the homes ever since.

But stiill all this helping of the Jenkis family and 25 back to back meditations since 10.10.10 was burning the candle on both ends and 12.12.12 was still a long way off.

After taking the wonderful light worker, holistic doctor and palmist Sarah Larsen away from her family for a week in Nashville at Lee McCormick’s Spirit Recovery Ranch and Mt. Shasta I did not feel I could ask her to step up.  Mica Monet had also just hosted a Valentine’s mediation.

ONENESS CANNOT BE STOPPED

Kara Mooney and Ramon Govea

On 2.25.11 I was was still getting those pesky angel signals, just two weeks before 3.11.11, so I sent out a request for help to the amazing and growing DreamShield Facebook group, along with emails to a few key team members who I thought might be fresh.

Ramon Govea, a young multi-talented Hollywood friend who has been at my side since DreamShield began was in touch immediately and volunteered to host 3.11.11. His co-host would be Kara Mooney who I had recently learned was interested in DreamShield from on Facebook.

The angels had told me they wanted us to dance on 3.1.11.  As usual they loved to surprise me and we only had a little over two weeks to pull major event together.

As 3.11.11 neared I felt I was working in my sleep.  So imagine how pleased that Kalix Sky our DJ that Kara and Ramon had hired for the event was helping us draw a crowd.  Kalix was just what we needed.  Laura and Sarah each let me blast out invites to their facebook friends on their behalf and soon we had about 100 people coming.

Laura and Bob’s mom passed 3 days before the event.  I’d prepared Ramon and Kara for the fact Laura might miss the event. But Laura cares so much for the work that she still performed that night and performed beautifully.

Ramon gave a great and personable presentation on 2012 along with Kara who in turn performed a lovely meditati0n on forgiveness.

Here’s how it all turned out.  And as you see at the end of the video the angels did give me a vision, the stinkers.  I stood upon the dance floor at 11:11 a recited what I was seeing to some awesome music Kalix had whipped up for us.  I saw the angels fly from the dance hall, their feathers brushing the guest as they took off flying right through the skyscrapers of downtown LA. And I channeled a message from the archangel Michael who surprised me when he ended my vision with a personal message to the crowd:

“Dance your asses off!” – Archangel Michael

AFTER VISIONS WHILE DOG WALKING

Angelic DJ Kalix Sky

Next day as I walked Bella one last time an eyes open after vision began.  I sometimes get my best visions when my mind is distracted by the mundane like shaving.  Now dog walking can be added to the list of vision points.  I stopped in my tracks in wonder, Bella tugging at the leash.

I was back on 3.11.11.  I saw archangel Michael fly off from our our dance hall with impossible speed and grace that would make Superman envious. The angels followed Michael to various junction points on the crystaline grid, a grid for 2012’s work the ascended masters had built eons ago to assure our successful transition.  Using the energy from our fantastic human dancers at the Oneness event Michael and his legion of angels strengthened the grid 11 times 11 over.

Next, flying in formation, Micheal led the angels to spin the energy bands that power the DreamShield, refreshing the shield and hopefully me and the rest of our global dream team of cutting edge light workers!

The work for a gentle 2012 was flying along and getting cooler and more fun all the time.

Dance with the angels of DreamShield!

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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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“ENOUGH” AT LEE MCCORMICK’S MEDICINE WHEEL

It’s often just enough to be with someone. I don’t need to touch them. Not even talk. A feeling passes between you both. You’re not alone.  -Marylin Monroe, on the topic of Enough

DreamBlogger – Ken Sheetz

Lee McCormick’s amazing 2000 acre Spirit Recovery ranch, site for the 2/12/11 DreamShield Planetary Addiction Meditation, had only one drawback for out of towners… lack of nearby restaurants.

Me and my fellow spoiled brats from LA for this trip, Bradley Quick and Dr. Sarah Larsen, were desperate for the health food choice we enjoy back home.  The only restaurant options, still about a 15 minute ride from the ranch, are McDonald’s or an all you can eat buffet, where the choices are… fried this or fried that.

So when Renato Longato, world famous UFO expert, finished his presentation on ETs and their role in 2012 and Lee herded us back to the all fried food you can eat spot again, I let a groan slip out.  But, even though the food was deadly, the company of large group who stuck us for the meditation made up for it with their lively passion and curiosity about DreamShield.

I griped to Lee that all this bad food was going to blur my visions at the wheel.  Lee simply chuckled and went on eating his fried chicken. Lucky for me not much phases Lee.  As a recovery guru and cattle rancher he’s seen it all.  Lee was the perfect host for this spirit shindig to balance out all my nervousness and exhaustion over this very personal mediation.  You see, I had just given the eulogy at my father’s funeral only 3 weeks prior to this event.  A father whose drinking escapades were legend in my home town of Milwaukee. Drinking which had decimated my childhood and made me into the lovable neurotic who blogs this stuff as much for self-therapy as to report to you on the birth of the New Age.

Reports I make as objectively as I can, while being the dude having all these visions to help usher in a gentle 2012 and trying to film it all at the same time.  How about a budget for an assistant and camera man, angels, ETs, whatever you are?  Maybe even a private jet as they’ve told me I need to do DreamShield personally in all 24 times zones and activate a billion people by 2012.  Guess they like to keep me humble with lack of funding.  Makes this funnier and they do love to laugh at this cynic of a psychic.  I swear this all is some kind of futuristic reality show at times where we are the cameras.

Heavy snows two days before had turned the field, where Lee 10 years earlier had built the medicine wheel, to mud.  My inner Larry David of a perfectionist said about the mud and cold, “Couldn’t the angels have picked a pleasant day in May for all this?”  But I stopped myself from griping out loud before I annoyed Lee again.  “Enough with the whine festival, ” I told myself.  “This mud is going to be perfect for grounding this great group of people to the earth.  We are electrical energy after and and what better conductor than the mud the fates had provided?”

The medicine wheel was working already.  I had officially stopped my negative self-talk that re-erupted in me after Dad’s funeral, like some dormant volcano of fear.  I was feeling up to the task of this great day my higher self had brought about.  Laura De Leon of MyMysticMuse‘s work finally kicked into gear. I was ready to do battle with addiction.  Or least not go off and down a bottle of tequila out of fear of messing all this up for earth’s gentle 2012.

“A church without walls”, as one of ranch hands described Lee’s medicine wheel, is the perfect description.  The energy of the growing crowd was palpable.   Lee personally selected the stones of his medicine wheel from the old Pinewood estate after it had burned.  The stones of that estate have great energy because Pinewood’s owner would buy slaves and then set them free on these lands!  Lands where also a great Native American people had ruled in total freedom before the white man came along and poisoned the tribes with their fire water.

Yes, I sensed the Native American spirits wanted this addiction meditation to work.  I sensed also the spirit of Kokopelli leading his people in this mighty task for earth many times on this trip.  He was showing up in pranks.  Kokopelli is part trickster spirit after all.  I had almost named my film company for him eight years ago when I moved to Hollywood before chickening out.  Maybe when I am done with all this 2012 stuff and can get back to making movies I will name a new film Kokopelli Films in his honor.  Yeah.

Lee’s medicine wheel for this DreamShield meditation to free earth of addiction by 2012 was therefore a perfect choice.  More perfect than I knew at the time of my vision, complete with diagrams of how to shape and work the group that came to me in dreams months ahead of time.

Lee McCormick walked the medicine wheel while Sarah Wellborn placed crystals from Mt. Shasta on the stones.

The group grew as trucks made their way through the muddy field loaded with cargoes of excited people.  People who felt so empowered  for the work by Lee’s great day of events leading to this that I could feel their passion for today’s work from a mile off.  I mean that literally, a mile off.  Putting my inner cynic aside, I can sense amazing stuff ever since Italy, where my DNA got activated and my life got turned upside down.

Here at Lee’s wheel, I realized the angels — or ETs who guide this strange and wonder filled work from a cloud or spaceship or my own overactive brain — had picked this sacred spot for this DreamShield meditation, as much for it’s location on the earth’s chakrah system for the amazing Tennessee folks who were now showing up in droves.  Numbers of people I’d not expected in such a remote location 40 miles from Nashville in the middle of Lee’s cattle ranch that doubles as one of America’s leading recovery centers.  Such is Lee’s respectability in the amazing Conscious Nashville group he has helped foster.

I made sure I had pals Sarah Larsen and Bradley Quick beside me as I was still feeling weak from the funeral and nearly 3 months of non-stop DreamSheild planetary meditations without any real budget.  I was running a global project from modest social media fees via my BuzzBroz company.  It had all seemed so simple after Italy.  Have a 10.10.10 global celebration and then go back to my normal life.  That was 26 planetary meditations ago…

So I was exhausted for the big one.  The meditation that meant more to me personally than any other.  I had not evolved much,  I had simply become a spiritual-aholic instead of a work-aholic.  Yeah, this meditation was needed for me personally.  I’d missed most of my kids’ childhoods working to be Chicago’s number 1 commercial real estate broker.  Nothing was ever enough.

VISIONS AT THE WHEEL

What energized me was Lee’s advice to me and the crowd, shouting over the stiff cold wind, “We gather today for a noble cause.  Our reality is what we choose to make it in this world.  And we choose to believe there can be an end to addiction on this world.  It’s time.  And the cool thing is we don’t have to believe in this work for it TO work.  We just have to show up and express our intent.  Feel it with our heart and soul.  In our bones.”

With that Lee turned it over to me.  “This is Ken Sheetz of DreamShield who will conduct this planetary meditation.  He sees things.”

Smiling at Lee’s perfect intro, I went with the flow and got the crowd laughing saying, “Think of me Larry David of the spirit world.  I don’t know how or why the angels chose me in Italy for this work… when I don’t believe in them half the time.  But Lee is right.  Somehow the job gets done anyways when I just show up where they tell me to go.  I’m happy the angels let me see what they are doing, despite my lack of 100% faith in what they let me somehow see.” Excited relief spread through the gathering as I added, “And don’t feel bad if you don’t see what I see or see nothing at all in this meditation.  You might even count yourself lucky you see nothing all this angels stuff has turned my life upside down.”

Later a meditation guest would thank me for “keeping it real.”

I passed the mediation ball to Dr. Sarah Larsen to open this meditation with her beautiful OMs.  She picked 13 OMs as the number to get the group into an energized connected space.  As Sarah OMed, the magic in my mind began to happen once again.  I saw, eyes closed, hundreds if not thousands of earth angels watching us 60 souls gathered to form the intent to rid the world of addiction.

My voice cracked as I told the crowd what I was seeing.  You see dear reader, I’d thought my visions were somehow at an end but here they were a host of angels ready to protect us and amplify our energy as we set the intention to end earth’s addiction at Lee’s medicine wheel!

This art piece by Gore Dustave is very close to what I saw.  I opened my eyes and shared my relief and excitement with the group.  “These are not like the angels I saw in Italy.  The are human formed, earth angels.”  I felt proud these were not the wonderful, if scary, ET angels from Italy working this meditation with us.  These were are kindred earth angels curing the earth of addictions.

I closed my eyes again and for the first time with such a large group and shared vision as they came into my head.  About my head for a bit.  I feel it’s overly large and that I’d easily weigh in under 200 pounds with a more normal sized head.  But I digress. Back to Lee’s medicine wheel…

I told the crowd, “I see a golden tumbler that holds the DNA code in this earth chakra beneath the medicine wheel.  We are going to unlock this tumbler of gold.  Gold that represents, according to some ET experts, humanity’s enslavement from the time we were genetically engineered from apes to mine this world of gold.  And it’s this ET engineered drive to never have enough that lies at the heart of all our addiction here on earth.  The time has time for us as a species to rise above our enslavement.  Let the ancient aliens have their gold we want to be free!”

Note: All this is as close as I can recall my words or anyone’s at the wheel.  I don’t have a camera crew at this stage of this underfunded and over ambitious gentle 2012 project.  So I may have inadvertently made myself sound better than real life in this blog.  Such is the benefit of not having a camera crew.

I then led the group in a meditation chant while we visualized a golden triangle forming within the black hole that lies within each of us as follows:

“Happy.  Healthy.  And whole!” Four times we repeated this simple triangular mantra together.  Success.  I saw another tumbler in the earth unlock like a telescope of gold that extended to the earth’s core.  It fed us an enormous energy surge I could feel in the mud as I held out my hands.

An angel whispered to me at the wheel, “You will become a new species of homo sapiens.  One that will care for each other and this world as equals in ways you cannot even imagine.”

My head was happily spinning in this deep waking dream of healing for earth in the mud at the wheel. This was going far better than I had possibly hoped.  I introduced Sarah Wellborn of the west coast spiritual mecca Mt. Shasta.  This other Sarah, many Sarah’s have appeared in this work as their name means “Light of God”, had earlier told me she had some very special songs she wanted to share at the wheel.  I saw at this moment that her songs were sonic codes to unlock the golden DNA tumbler in the earth’s chakrah.

As a former builder, a man of schedules and budgets who built Oprah’s Harpo studios, I often wonder why the angels don’t give me more clear plans ahead of time.  But I went with the divine guidance flow and turned things over to Sarah Wellborn.

The group and I chanted along with Sarah Wellborn’s very beautiful and other worldly sounding singing, singing that I hope to God Lee’s videographer captured for history and I was too busy running a mediation to film.  Just as I was fussing about this to myself in my hyper mind I saw the Virgin Mary in glory, radiating healing energy down upon us from a cloud above.  You heard me.  The Virgin Mary.

UFO expert Renato had told us in his lecture before the DreamShield that ETs, looking not to shock us, would appear to one race as say Shiva, or Muhamed or as the Virgin Mary depending on  your cultural heritage.  I wonder now as I write if this was what was going on here at Lee’s amazing medicine wheel.  You see I am not religious.  So I’d be about the last guy you’d expect to see angels, let alone the mother of Christ.

Note: This is not the the best photo of what I saw of the Virgin Mary, unlike the fairly accurate angels one depicted above in the blog.  This Virgin Mary was more classic in my vision and radiant in all directions not just her hands.  Without a CG artist I can’t describe the majesty of the parting clouds that Mary appeared to me from.  Sigh.  This is hard on me as filmmaker as I want to truly share all this amazing stuff with you fully.  I guess in the hopes you might believe me more.   That’s silly I know.  The best books do not come with pictures.

It’s taken me days to get the nerve up to write of this because it all sounds so crazy.  I keep thinking the men in white jackets are coming for me when, as Lee said, I “see things.”  Well, at least I am getting faster at accepting these amazing visions.  It took me three months to get up my nerve to report on the angels in Italy.

Yes, dear reader.  This blog is the first I am sharing of the Virgin Mary vision.  The goddess as the light workers see her, the divine feminine was with us.

I relaxed into Sarah’s beautiful song deeper.  She invited us all to join her in our own tones.  We sounded alien.  A bit like the choir from 2001, only prettier. That damn song annoys me after a while.  Sarah’s song was beautiful, but 2001-like-ape scene is how it felt.  We were like the apes ready to evolved when we unlocked the golden DNA tumbler in the earth here 40 miles west of Nashville.  Lee had explained to me our DreamShield team earlier that day that the earth on this part of the globe holds huge limestone deposits and is naturally one of the purest points on the planet for what we were doing.

I held forth my trembling hands and grabbed hold of the golden tumbler I could see in my mind’s eye.  With each of Sarah’s new combination tunes and chants I turned the giant golden lock within the earth.  Gone was the scared, little Ken, I was fully my higher self working with the spirits of angels, Indains, cowboys, the Virgin Mary, ETs an my new Nashville and old LA friends.  I smiled at Sarah Larsen and Bradley Quick who had somehow moved, without my directing them, into the triangular pattern you see in this diagram that came to me in a dream last fall.

Diagram for Addiction Meditation that Came to Ken Sheetz in a Dream in 11.1.10

Suddenly I saw my father having a Guiness in bar in heaven.  He downed half a glass and with a pleased look of satisfaction said, “Enough.”

Then Dad smiles at me as he pushed away from the heavenly bar.  I shouted this vision to the group and asked if anyone else was seeing visions or feeling something.  A young man shouted, “I see a new golden leaf!”

“Yes!”  I shouted back like an excited kid.  “New growth for the Golden Age that dawns here today!  I see the DNA beginning to shift!”

Sarah Wellborn’s amazing song of alien sounding stopped.  She paused and said, “This next one is very playful.  It’s for the elementals.” Her song for the elementals that followed was so playful and joyous that it kept me from getting to serious over my Dad’s Guinness appearance at the wheel. Not at the wheel but in a dream the next morning I would see these brown muddy fields we stood filled with grass of a green spring and thousands of white elementals dancing about Lee’s medicine wheel.  The playful white creatures looked a like the elementals in SPIRITED AWAY, only not so weird.

The shift was on, as singer Shawn Gallaway had sung the night before at the Lee’s Conscious Music before a packed crowd of 300.

Later I’d tell my middle brother only the part of my vision of Dad pushing away after half a Guinness, who before the trip to Nashville had expressed complete disbelief in this DreamShield meditation’s ability to heal earth’s addiction.  My brother, who been an even bigger cynic than me about this addiction meditation, was touched and said, “Yeah, Pops never left a drink half-finished beer in his life.”

It’s my deepest wish and desire that we accomplished the mission of freedom for the earth from all addiction.  But for me and my family the vision of Dad in heaven satisfied with his half Guiness means more to me than all my visions since May in 2010 put together.  Sorry, Virgin Mary and host of angels.  I’m just being honest here while thanking you for all your blessings and help.

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1.1.11 Happy New Age!

“The only real stumbling block is fear of failure. In cooking you’ve got to have a what-the-hell attitude.”
Julia Child

DreamBlogger – Ken Sheetz

Confession:  For a guy who runs a social media company I’ve not been very social.  But I found my groove at the groovy 1.1.11 Butterfly Meditation DreamShield event at diva Laura De Leon’s amazing home with her amazing hubby Bob Jenkis, who is one of Hollywood’s top editors, and the help of the always playful Dr. Sarah Larsen.

At the global 10.10.10 event I spent the better part of my time hiding behind the camera and in my hotel room running the 24 hour webcast on my Mac.   But 1.1.11 was different.  I am stepping up into my role as a spiritual leader and visionary, shy though I still am.

To help me step up, Laura did some amazing healing on me, one where I could see in my mind’s eye that she removed a dragon of red energy that was wrapped around my core.  Visit Laura at MysticMuse.com And with Sarah at Dr.SarahLarsen.com, who guides me to be more social almost daily.  Add to that since Mt. Shasta, with Marta and Mica where we’ve held a place of love that we are keeping up through the  solar eclipse on 1.4.11 and beyond.

More prep, Sarah and I went on a huge shopping trip on 12/31/11 and gathered the list of stuff for the 1.1.11 party only to learn at the cashiers they did not take Visa, the card my roomie loaned me, and Sarah had forgotten her wallet.  Costco was kind enough to put our cart in storage and we headed to Laura’s for a rehearsal and we swung back for the stuff later and I kept my cool.

This may not sound like a big deal. But my style of work as a producer, and former real estate developer who built Oprah’s studios, is all about precision through plans, schedules and budgets. So in the past this Costco hiccup would have freaked me out.  Instead, I enjoyed the comedy and beauty of the coming together of all this.  Sarah is about going with the flow and Laura is a meticulous performer.  So we made a great team for this important event.  It was such an honor to stand beside a great performer and healer like Laura De Leon, the band and Sarah.  There no more hiding in the New Age.

Here’s a taste of the amazing Butterfly meditation party at Casa De Leon.

And let me share the vision I had during the meditation and a promise to share in the moment for the next event tomorrow, the solar flare meditation on 1.4.11, we formed a new universe with the power of the Infinity Cookies for our friends here on earth to explore and enjoy. 1.1.11 was the birth of the Butterfly Universe!

Here’s the recipe for the heavenly DreamShield Infinity cookies that came from the Celestials.  Make some of your own and grow the Butterfly Universe!  Special thanks to Nadia Avalero for cooking this up based on the recipe from above.

DreamShield Infinity Cookies: Love is the Secret Ingredient

DREAMSHIELD INFINITY COOKIE

Organic, Raw, Vegan 

1 cup Chia seeds
…1/2 cup Shredded coconut
1 cup Walnuts
1/2 cup Sugar Cane Crystals
1/4 cup Coconut Oil
TT Cinnamon
Pinch Sea Salt
TT Sesame seeds
Water, to consistency

Separately finely grind chia seeds, coconut shreds and walnuts in coffee grinder. Mix all with melted coconut oil, water (add mixture is too dry), sugar crystals, cinnamon and sea salt.

Form into desired infinite shape with infinite love. Top with sesame seeds and refrigerate. Enjoy when solidified!

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

MERLIN AT THE DREAM INN

No man, no matter how great, can know his destiny.  He cannot glimpse his part in the great story that is about to unfold.  –  From the ScyFy TV Series MERLIN

Dream Blogger – Ken Sheetz

The all night 9 hour ride from LA passes quickly and smoothly on a cloud of joy and love.  After a snowy ride into Mt. Shasta and breakfast at the Black Bear Cafe, our 4 person part of the dream team heads over the Woodsman Inn to check in.  But the rooms we had booked are not ready because the heavy snows kept the housecleaning staff away.

After checking with the Dream Inn where I had stayed in November we are all set.  Dr. Sarah Larsen, Mica Monet and Marta all love the fact we have a floor of a house all to ourselves; complete with a two bedrooms, a full bath, kitchen, living room and dinning room, all filled with spiritual knickknacks.

Mt. Shasta’s pure air fills me with energy.  And even after going 36 hours without sleep Sarah and I venture across the street and film this video.  Sorry for the time warp in the title.  I was going to fix it but I love the fact it’s 12/20/2012, eve of the New Age.  A Shasta Vortex adventure indeed!

Filming finally made me became sleepy.  After 36 hours without sleep I was out like a light.  This was perfect as we were going to be up most of the night for meditation in a lunar eclipse meditation pyramid that was built on 9/9/09, just for groups like our looking to raise Earth’s vibration.

I began to dream about reporting to the Galactic Council in a giant auditorium in a great cavern beneath Mt. Shasta…

M.E.R.L.I.N.

Ben Stiller from The Oscars

The snow storm and cloud cover was doing a fantastic job of hiding our spaceships that had come for this meeting. A meeting of all the worlds fostering intelligent life in this galaxy to take a vote on Earth’s freedom and admission as a protected world of the Galactic Federation.

I am once again Ohom, a 7 foot tall blue being with wings, pleading before the full council of a rainbow of alien races.  A few creatures bigger than whales, housed in great tanks, are scattered in an alien crowd that George Lucas would love.  I almost wake up to my human Ken Sheetz form at that thought but fight to remain with the council as Ohom.

“Ladies and Gentlemen of the Galactic Federation Council, I implore you to vote with your hearts. Vote for Earth, not only as protected world, but to lift the veil of forgetfulness from all its inhabitants.”

Grak, my Reptilian nemesis interrupts me, as always, “Madame Chairman!  Can we please stop this infernal game?  I weary over a program Ohom himself designed, put himself into and forgot he forgot.  The cursed MERLIN.”

All eyes of the council turn to me.

“I was Merlin?”  I say.

A Lumarian in the front row can no longer contain his laughter and soon the entire cavern beneath Mt. Shasta roars with the thunderous laughter of thousands of beings from all across the galaxy.

Grak glares at the Lumarian who stops laughing along with the crowd, “MERLIN is not a person but a program.  A cursed program that you yourself devised to create the veil of forgetfulness.  The legend of Merlin was created as a way to help you remember on this very day.”

“Ha.  You can’t toy with me, Grak.”  I say not sounding very confident.

More roars of laughter before I can open my mouth again.  A stab of pain takes me to my knees and the laughter stops.  And suddenly I remember…

“Dear God, MERLIN.  It wrote the code.  M.E.R.L.I.N.: MIND, ERASING, RANDOMIZER, LINEAR….  LINEAR.  Too painful.  Can’t remember the rest.”

Grak leans over me, his snake like tongue darts out.  For a second it’s terrifying but then I see the pity in his orange and black eyes. “LINEAR, INFINITE, NULLIFIER.  That last part of the spell, old friend, your spell for confusing the head Chakra of the Earth, has nullified you from seeing all the good my Reptilian race has done for this world and for you.”

“But you killed Cara.  Last council!”

My lover, beautiful Cara, stands in the crowd and giggles and blows me a kiss. “Ohom! Here I am!”

“How?!” I shout overjoyed.

“The Randomizer part of your damn Merlin program, it bedazzles the mind with false memories.  I’d no sooner kill Cara than you, old friend. Remember our young days in Atlantis? Think!” Shouts Grak into my face while shaking me with his great strength.

A thousand memories flood into my mind in an instant: A young Ohom and a young Grak swimming with Dolphins, playing dice in a casino on the moon, teaching caveman humans to make fire…

“Yes!  Grak, my brother! How can I have forgotten?” Now it’s my eyes that fill with tears.  Tears of shame.

Grak hugs me to him.  He’s nearly 2 feet shorter and his skin feels like a basketball I had as the human child Ken Sheetz.

Grak’s dazzling Reptilian eyes look up to me, “Wanna know the really sad thing, Ohom?”  To my fervent nod Grak says,”Come sunrise you forget about MERLIN and we will all Randomize and start this nightmare over again for the millionth time.”

Cara shouts from the now somber crowd.  “We are all stuck in an endless jumbled non-linear time loop, Ohom.  You must crack the Merlin code to free not just Earth, but the Universe.”

But before I can ask how to begin a sound wakes me with a start that takes away my breath.

KNOCK, KNOCK!  BACK AT THE DREAM INN

I awake, back at Dream Inn, Ken Sheetz an aging overweight filmmaker once again.  Me.

I stumble around in the dark looking for where the knocks are coming from.  Dr. Sarah Larsen and Mica, Marget are nowhere in site. I remember they have headed off for a hot spring. I open the door and a lovely woman, covered in snow, introduces herself as Saralise.

Saralise is passionate about the great work she is doing in Mt. Shasta as she urgently speaks to me.  But with only 2 hours sleep her words are not getting through to me.  She tries to brief me on Mt. Shasta’s important mission in the New Age to come but she may as well be briefing a brick wall.

Soon the dream team ladies are back and all are chatting with Saralise  All this is a blur to me as I write.  The dream of the MERLIN Program is more clear and shocking.

“I am crazy?” I wonder in my dream addled mind to myself as the girls chatter. To imagine I was an alien responsible for so much misery on this world caused by our forgetfulness of past life experience is a horrible shock.  It’s then I realize that this revelation is more the reason for my disconnect with Saralise than the exhaustion of the 9 hour ride from LA.

We have a little time left for some late dinner before our planetary meditation in the 20 person capacity plywood pyramid and head off for a Thai restaurant in town in the snow.

As the snow whip at the windshield like shooting stars and my dream team of light workers chatter I am happy knowing my life has become more exciting than any movie or dream.  It’s the dawn of the new era in human consciousness and we are in Mt. Shasta to meditate on healing the ozone layer.

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

TECTONIC VISION AT MT. SHASTA

“Dreams are today’s answers to tomorrow’s questions.” – Edgar Cayce, American Psychic 1877-1945

Dream Blogger – Ken Sheetz

November 10, 2010.  I awake in Mt. Shasta City, in Northern California, after a night of amazing “downloads”, as Reiki master Dorothy Donahue calls them.  I’d been doing social media via my BuzzBroz.com service for 6 months for a show called LIFE CHANGES with Filippo and in exchange was blessed to take some amazing trips — no drugs Dorothy simply uses her awakening gifts, LED glasses and drumming — on her couch.

Dorothy’s light induced trance journeys began the awakening of my higher self that’s been revealing itself now for 9 months, culminating in the vision in Italy and all the after visions of that have become DreamShield: Planetary Meditations for a Gentle 2012.

It was on Dorthy’s magic couch that I began to see the codes of many cultures, pyramids, spinning DNA strands and decks of alien spaceships that have filled much of my nightly dreams to this day and propelled this 58-year-old former real estate exec with over $1 billion of experience into the New Age head-first.

Night at the bed and breakfast, discovered by Cali Rosen for our three person dream team, is pleasant to say the least.  My soft king sized bed is far more comfortable than the hard tiny twin I sleep on at a charity client, The Cool Change Foundation, that I donate social media in exchange for rent for in North Hollywood.

I rub the sleep from my eyes as I try to process scores of amazing dreams that I had channeled in the clear crisp Mt. Shasta night air at this B&B aptly named The Dream Inn.  The air is so fresh my smog abused lungs are thrilled with every clean breath.

As I shave I look at the spiritual guy in the mirror who I barely recognize from my old corporate self.  A corporate self that caused me to doubt for many months the angelic mission I was sent on in May of this year in Italy at a SoulDrama group meditation.  An angelic mission that asked me to honor the dates of 10/10/10 with a global web celebration.

After months of putting it off I finally got on the job and DreamShield 10/10/10 became a huge success with live coverage from LA, Nashville, home of sponsors Spirit Recovery and Princes Know it All and Greece, plus a non-filmed 3 day event in Italy

Conferring with Dr. Sarah Larsen, my lovely co-host for the LA event that had drawn 200 guests, I told her of my hopes that I’d not be called to do more work for DreamShield until 11/11/11, the next huge binary code date.  But here I was waking up over coffee at The Dream Inn, about to do 4 more planetary meditations over the next 2 days with Hollywood power couple Cali and Chris Rosen and the angels.

Over breakfast I ask Dave, keeper of the B&B, if he’s ever seen a UFO.  He chuckles “No!” and we learn, despite his place looking so heavenly, that Dave does not believe in any of the legends of Mt. Shasta. Though he shares with us the New Age legend that Mt. Shasta is thought to have once been part of Atlantis, back in the Pangea era.  The grounded Dave Ream is a great host and the place is named for him, D for David mixed with Ream, his last name, makes the “D-ream” for the Dream Inn.

Dave and Chris hit it off best, as Dave believes, like Chris, that none of the UFOs or spiritual stuff said to happen regularly on the American mecca of a mountain is true.  Including a tale Dave shares of Mt. Shasta being the Native Americans’ Garden of Eden where the first Native American was created by God, stepping down from heaven onto the great snow capped mountain peak.

This doubting Thomas of an inn keeper is clearly not what I expected to find at Mt. Shasta, but I somehow find it grounding in this fantastical place.  Chris’ spiritual and ET doubts, however, I am well prepared for having gotten to know Chris over the past few days.  Chris shares, over a course of grapefruit, that he has never in all his hundreds of hours air time, as a jet pilot and vet, ever encountered a UFO.  I realize as I write that this is perhaps a big part of what makes Chris cynical about DreamShield’s ET/angel work.

In spite all Chris’ doubts, he has come along to support his wife Cali who loves the work.  So it’s amazing that time after time later, on this three person DreamShield excursion, that it will in fact be Chris who notices the angel signs we are on the right path.

On the gorgeous 9 hour drive up to Mt. Shasta I had gotten an angelic message that Castle Crag State Park is to be the site of the first Mt. Shasta meditation.  Dave’s wife Lana tells us about a dirt road where we can get into the park the back way and save on Park fees.  We are grateful given we are all filmmakers on a tight budget.  So we finish up our Eggs Benedicts and we’re on our way, Cali at the wheel.

Exiting the 5 onto the narrow paved road fronting Soda Creek, it quickly becomes  little more than a dirt goat path. One wrong turn of the SUV and we are in for a crash.  But Cali holds the course until we reach a dead end about 5 miles in at a place, not kidding, called Dream Ranch.  There are so many “No Trespassing!” signs that we have no choice but to turn back.

But on the way to the dead end I had fortunately spotted what looked like a cool meditation spot beside the fresh rapids of the Soda Creek we turn back for.  Driving slowly, we wind our way to a small clearing nestled nestled in the pine forest beside the Soda Creek.

The circle of rocks sitting squarely at the center of the clearing seems the place to meditate.  When Cali suggests we perch upon the rocks I’m a little wary.  Last night’s light snow has left the rocks slippery.  But I manage, as you can see in the photo at the top of this post, to overcome my old corporate conservative ways and climb atop the rocks.

We gaze up into the little forest clearing to the blue sky and invite the angels to do the work, work which they actually started in LA at the other end of the San Andreas fault line in Tujunga Park begins…

VISION FOR TECTONIC PLATE ACTIVITY REDUCTION

I am blessed on this project with an angelic editor who was a great TV writer in life, he’s telling me to let the video do the talking now.

ANGELS SHUTOUT DOOMSDAY!

After we finish the planetary meditation to reduce tectonic and earthquake activity I am so moved by the work that I am nearly in tears.  This angel powered planetary work is so pure and powerful it cannot be described in words.  The closest I can come is the feeling of a million invisible Super Bowl fans cheering you on.

The angels love this DreamShield work and I love what they are doing for our world to ensure the negative 2012 visualizations we are having crammed down our throats by the mainstream media daily are totally canceled out.

Yes, in the end, come 2012, DreamShield’s success will be measured by the things that never happen, from asteroids not hitting us to nuclear wars that never occur.

A hard thing to measure, that which does not happen.  Easy thing, in fact, to say nothing was done at all if you are a cynic.

I’m glad I don’t have to be a cynic anymore.  My faith in the work, experiencing it’s magic first hand, has transformed me forever.  I’d really be a fool for it not to.  I am blessed to have my faith in more than what meets the eye restored since the vision for a gentle 2012 in Italy took over my life.

In the world of angels there is no such thing as time.  2012 has already happened and the angels’ work, facilitated by humanity, has succeeded.  There is no need or place for doubt or fear in this good work.  And DreamShield I am happily learning is but one player in many such positive meditations happening on the binary dates all over the world.

But back on Mt. Shasta as the meditation’s vortex where the Soda Creek was diverted to cool the earth’s core is closed, unlike some of my other DreamShield meditations, I am sad I am not seeing visions of angels.  No sooner do I utter those words to Cali when some distance out of earshot Chris points out angel shaped flying clouds over our meditation spot!

And there would be more signs like this photo to the right and top of the blog that I developed at few days later where angelic orbs we saw in the visions can be clearly seen.

“Moisture from the snow,” the skeptics will say.

Ah, but my new self answers, “Does it really matter if the angels made that moisture appear at just the perfect angle on the camera’s lense to see the image of an angel?”

There’s no time to ponder doubt at Mt. Shasta on 11/10/10.  Our little dream team of three must now race to a dormant volcano some miles from the Soda Creek back road we are on and we must get there within the hour of 1PM!

As we hurry to the SUV I spot at piece of plastic tape with magic marker letters scribbled on it that seems to hold an angelic message for Chris.  More on that next blog “Volcanic Vision at Mt. Shasta.”