Reincarnation lies at the heart of the long running BBC TV series DR. WHO. The clever creators of DR. WHO disguise reincarnation, for Christians and Muslims who prefer the belief in an afterlife, as regeneration.
When the doctor reaches the end of a useful life in one body he regenerates into an entire new body. Like rebirth in reincarnation, the doctor’s regenerations are painful and chaotic. The Time Lord, last of his race, is always disoriented at first adapting to his new body. Much like we are as reborn babies, starting the life-cycle all over again as we’ve done countless times in the longest running reality show called “Life on planet Earth”.
Since 1966 when the series premiered, and soon to celebrate a 50-year anniversary as the longest running TV series on earth, twelve equally amazing actors have played the 2,000 year-old Dr. Who. I have watched so many of these Dr. Who regenerations over my lifetime that it’s hard for me to imagine a life without this coolest of sci-fi shows.
Heck, I was only 14 when the show began, though I began watching it on PBS in the 1980s in my 30s during the Tom Baker DR. WHO years. I love how you never know in what form the doctor will regenerate, complete with a new wardrobe style and interior redecorated time machine called the Tardis, bigger on the inside than the outside.
An outside that’s supposed to camouflaged into the landscape, but that cool Tardis function is broken. So the doctor’s time machine is frozen in the form of a blue London police phone booth from a desperate 1966 mission to save Earth, just it has been since the show began in 1966 as the only constant in the ever changing Dr. Who series. This broken but still powerful Tardis is the doctor’s only tool, along with his trusty multi-use sonic screwdriver, for saving the world. Which the doctor does every season on regular basis.
In season eight, a bit confusing as it would be season 27 but they chose to renumber the series when it revived in 2005 after being off the air since 1996, Clara Oswald, who I feel is hands down the best in 50 years of Dr. Who companions, is beautifully played by Jenna Coleman. Clara is repulsed when the hot young Dr. Who, played by Matt Smith, that she crushes on, is regenerated into a cantankerous old Scott, played masterfully Peter Capaldi, with touching and hilarious results for them both.
Thus Clara bridges from one Dr. Who to the next, a process we as the audience all go through too. Yes, every time there’s new doctor the BBC message boards are filled with dislike for any new Dr. Who. But soon we fans, along with Clara and her predecessor companions, are comforted by the fact that, despite Dr. Who’s new look, that he demonstrates by action and character he remains the same vibrant world saving hero underneath the skin. The same soul living in a new body, just as in reincarnation, Dr. Who continues to grow and develop new complexities of character and compassion, while he is constantly humbled and rescued many times by his human companion. An incredible metaphor for relationships that are the key to our souls’ evolution in reincarnation.
It’s wild how the show makers masterfully overlap all the Dr. Who’s and along with his change of companions like 2015’s Clara. Just as we do in real-life, if you believe as I do in the endless cycles of reincarnation. We mortals are constantly changing lives in an immortal cycle of regeneration. Like the water of lakes that vaporizes to fall as rain endlessly, we are ever dying and reborn, re-meeting our companions of the past, sometimes as human beings and sometimes other life forms, all mostly made of water.
In other words, dear dreamers of a better tomorrow, we are all Claras and Dr. Whos in a Tardis called Me.
This blog posting dedicated to a real-life Dr. Who I have had the honor of helping bring a new sonic mind tool into the world called the NEO Neurophone, Dr. G. Patrick Flanagan.
“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
Happy 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.”
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.
At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet. – Plato
By Ken Sheetz
The world ends at midnight today, July 25, 2013. At least according the Mayans per expert Stephanie Sutton, wife of scientist Patrick Flanagan who I am filming here in Sedona for THE FLANAGAN EXPERIMENTS.
This makes today a once in a many lifetimes day to wax nostalgic and share past lives this past 5,125 years. Which was your favorite past life? Please post your favorite past life below!
Ah. I am happy just thinking back over so many amazing past lives I connect to in meditation.
One as Samuel Warner where I founded Warner Broz. (typo intentional) and saw the birth of Hollywood. A life cut short when I died at 40 of a sinus infection. I battle sinus infections in this life too, one almost took my life 5 years ago. My bum nose is my kryptonite.
I’ve had an incredible life as a Native America shaman named Laughing Skies. I lived here on the Sedona area in the 1800s . My people were all slain by the white man as I did a vision quest gathering dreams on my dream shield.
I’ve learned just this week, as the old world winds down, that dream shields unlike dream catchers were not used to block dreams but used by shamans, like I was, as projection screens to share visions with the tribe.
I truly had no idea how aptly I named the Big Bang of my visions in Italy of ET building a dream shield about the earth for our aid in evolution. And so I could not resist Facebooking my producer friend Barnet Bain, who made the amazing WHAT DREAMS MAY COME, starring Robin Williams.
You see, when I first began DreamShield in 2010, I talked to Barnet about it as I thought I might be losing my marbles. Barnet encouraged me to share my visions, but he passed on getting aboard with DreamShield.org as he did not like the name. Barnet said DreamShield seemed fearful, this warding off of dreams. As good pals in film, he on the silver screen with epic films and me modestly on PBS and YouTube with much smaller budgets, we both get a chuckle that a dream shield is actually for sharing dreams in groups and a precursor to our modern-day dream shield of sharing dreams with crowds on the movie screens of all shapes and sizes from the movie theaters to cell phones. All of them dream shield’s of we modern-day film shamans.
Laughing Skies spirit visits me often as a guide to me in this life on how to heal the white man to be more like the Native Americans, more at one with the mother earth and father sky. A shocking fact considering the white man killed all his people and family. I vividly remember when I was Laughing Skies tossing all my dead tribe, wife, son, daughter and mother, on a funeral pyre and then diving into the flames to join them.
But of all the past lives I have so far gotten in touch with, my favorite is when I was the warrior-mayor of ancient Athens. Time travel with me to ancient Greece when Athens flourished as the flower of mankind.
TURKOS AND THE MERMAID’S QUEST – A True Past-Life Story
One, cool for August, summer day I ride from Athens for the beach atop my horse Pegasus, named for the steed of Greek legend. My real-life Pegasus, white also but without wings, and I have won many battles together. We ride as warrior brothers.
I tether Pegasus to a cypress tree and make my way down to the port of Piraeus to inspect new fortifications.
Afterwards I stroll the white beach, loyal Pegasus, following behind at a respectful distance as I ponder matters of state. Rain threatens. The sea air is fresh. A seagull cries out overhead and I say to Pegasus, whose ears perk with understanding, “I thank Zeus for all this beauty! We are blessed, Pegasus!”
As the youngest general ever of Greece, who saved the city of Athens from raiders, my skills with sword and shied are second to none. I am named warrior-mayor before the age of thirty. I am a fierce berserk er style warrior, who will never taste defeat in combat or contest.
I love the beach to keep my fighting skills sharp and go through sword lunges that have ended the lives of many an enemy of Athens.
A dazzling Oriental mermaid leaps from the sea and perches herself on an outcropping of rocks. Pegasus rears and whinnies in terror. I laugh grabbing his reins, “Ha! Brave Pegasus who has ridden into Hades with me, you fear mermaids!”
The mermaid laughs as I finally calm Pegasus, “Hail, great warrior-mayor Turkos! I Hato, Mermaid Queen of the East, swam far to seek you out.”
I bow and say, “And for what purpose do you seek of me, fair Mermaid Queen of the East?
“You are called by the god Poseidon to a quest, great Turkos.”
“A quest. What does the mighty Poseidon ask of me?” I say.
“Your excellence with sword and shield. Great Poseidon asks you slay an evil dragon plaguing the coastal cities of the Orient!”
My answer comes swift and sure. “I am honored by Poseidon’s request to aid you in your hour of need, beautiful mermaid queen,” I say offering a sword salute from my to my heart to Hato’s and add, “However, my wife Penelope, my three young children and Athens would be left defenseless against the dragons of the north. So I must refuse.
“You dare decline Poseidon, a wrathful god?” says Hato in shock, her tail flapping nervously on the rocks.
“Yes, Mermaid Queen. I respectfully decline and ask Poseidon seek another to slay the evil dragon attacking the Orient. My quest is here in Athens, protecting those I love.”
Hato ponders for a long time, shocked at my refusal to come to her aid. Obviously, this is the first time anyone has ever said no to the gorgeous siren.
Whinnies from Pegasus break the hypnosis of the waves and Hato says, “I offer you my protection against Poseidon’s wrath. For he is sure to be sorely vexed with you.”
I am touched Hato is more worried for me than disappointed at my decline to the quest. I bow to her and say, “Thank you, Hato, queen of the mermaids. I am sure your beauty will protect us all in Athens from Poseidon’s rage at my selfishness.”
‘”Selfishness? No, fair warrior! Sweet Athens and your family are blessed by your love and talents. I honor your decision made from a pure heart of love,” says Hato. She bows graciously with a loving smile that pierces my soul. Hato dives back into the azure Mediterranean waters.
I live out my long life as Turkos the warrior-mayor of Athens with honor and love. I never regret declining Hato the merimaid queen’s call to action as I will save many citizens and loved ones before hanging up my sword and shield. But I always felt bad I could not be in two places at once and help Hato the mermaid queen.
One day, as a very old man in his 80s, my battles far behind me, most of my family gone of old age, I sit in mediation on the beach. Hato leaps from the sea onto the very same rock some 50 years earlier. Though I am old and gray, Hato is as young and dazzling as ever.
“Hato! Thank you for all your protection from Poseidan’s wrath all these years!”
“Hail, Turkos. Your life has been long and honorable,” says Hato.
“What brings you back to my shores? My Pegasus is gone and I am old, certainly not another quest?” I exclaim.
“You are passing to the next world soon, great Turkos. I want to free you of doubt in your choice as a young man.” says Hato as she transforms her fins into legs and walks to me and sits down at my side in the white sand.
“Ah, yes. Seldom has a day passed with my wondering if you found a replacement to slay the dragon.”
Hato places her hand on my forehead. Her touch is as cool as the sea. “You made the right decision. I found another warrior to slay the dragon plaguing my seas. The world is filled with warriors.”
“I am so glad you and your people were saved, Hato,” I say, tears of gratitude welling.
“Be at peace, Tukos, and listen. For though I found a warrior to take your place with sword and shield, I’ve never found a man who loved his own kind so deeply as to risk the wrath of a god.”
My eyes close and I pass happily into death to the gentle sound of the ocean waves and the cool feel of Hato the mermaid queen’s hand on my fevered brow.
TEACHER’S PET OF THE DAMANHUR
When I share some of this story with the amazing Shama Viola, much of it has come to me more fully in meditations over the past year, the light worker from Damanhur of Italy smiles at first.
I am with a group of seven other students, in Shama’s past life workshop. We are in a teepee at Great Spirits ranch in Malibu. It’s summer 2012 and the fan is not keeping the teepee cool. I am covered in a sheen of sweat when my turn comes to tell the class the past life of Turkos.
I am always teacher’s pet as a bright, if rambunctious student, and I await Shama’s praise of me as the ace past life traveler right out of the box.
Shama instead scolds me,”No, Ken! No! Turkos is a wonderful past life, Ken, but not the past life our Damanhur oracles in our underground temples have chosen for you to study today!”
“But it’s a great life. I was so happy!” I say in shock at Shama’s scolding.
“Look deeper. You have led thousands of lives. Tune to the life we have chosen for you to study,” says Shama.
Shama moves onto all the other students and I am the only one who has not tuned into the right past life!
Besides feeling like class dunce instead of my usual ace role, I am frustrated beyond measure and think, ” I want to know more of Turkos and his amazing life. Now I have to find another life? Why? Turkos is the first past life I ever know about. Ha! And Shama is displeased as though I can just can dial-up another past live like an Iphone? The nerve of these Damanhurs! ”
My ego is deeply inflamed and I remain stuck on the Turkos life the entire first day of the Damanhur workshop. I fall behind all the other students, some of whom have come from as far away as the east coast. Finally, on day two, breaking a sweat in meditation I find the past life Shama wants me to study.
I am shocked I was a woman. My name was Maya, a powerful female shaman who lived in the rain forests of Brazil on the banks of a great river. After a lifetime of healing thousands, Maya transforms into an eagle feather as she passes from this world. Now Shama is happy and I quickly catch up to the other students as Maya’s life pours into me.
It’s a profound experience I highly recommend. Shama’s Damanhur Past life workshop travels about the world and is not to be missed.
But I still shudder thinking of the dress Shama made me wear in role-playing as Maya! 220 pound me, 6′ tall me and a 6’4″ tall buddy named Marvin, whose past life was a slave girl from Egypt. Not a pretty sight we two men in drag on a spirit dude ranch in Malibu.
Wonderful as Shama and the Damanhur are in getting me in touch with Maya and the healing powers Maya passed onto me for ongoing work dor freeing people from the Matrix via my social mind over media work at BuzzBroz.com, I still wish we had been able to also work on my life as the mayor of Greece. A man who knew how to love so well. A skill I struggle with in this life, as I am great at giving love, but feeble at receiving love.
Stay tuned to the blog as I travel in the fall the Italy and visit the eco-city of Damanhur itself in search of the answers. My next life the Damanhur want me to study is that of a 19th century Russian physicist. Fortunately, you get clues of who you were after your first class. So Turkos I know is not my next life. My five most important past lives to this one have all been determined. I hope one of them is the brave lover Turkos.
THE NEW GOLDEN AGE DAWN JULY 26th 2013. TOMORROW!
It’s also my hope and dream that tomorrow, the first official day of new Golden Age, that I, and the many like me who cannot accept love easily, will be able to fully open our hearts like Turkos. I am filled with excitement and hope here in the red rocks of Sedona toiling with Patrick Flanagan of PhiSciences, a master of past life study, to bring you videos that will change the world.
Enjoy this video I made of Patrick sharing his life as Nikola Tesla. This remarkable story that will be the opening of the movie I am writing about Patrick’s amazing life.