Robin Williams’ Valentine’s Day Visitation

On February 15, 2015January 22, 2018 By Ken SheetzIn The Robin Williams Visitations3 Comments

Well, as you know, if you are a fan of my peculiar blog, Robin Williams spirit seemed, I must always be the doubter to some degree, so seemed to be visiting me often after his death. Incredible and whacky as that sounds, Robin drifted away from heavy contact to be conceived as a blue whale. He will be born this August.

“Takes a long time for a mama whale to make a baby blue! ” Robin explained to me over coffee, one day. “I’m making my comeback as whale to sing a new song of joy and love for the world!”

My nutty life since my 2010 awakening in Italy had gotten a lot nuttier. I worried to Robin, telepathically as the waitress noticed me placing mug of hot coffee in front of an empty chair only I could sense Robin sitting in, “To some skeptics it’s gonna seem like I am capitalizing on your death.”

Robin’s spiritual answer? “Fuck ’em! This is really happening, Ken. No one can prove it either way. Share this whale of tale. For some it’s gonna make ’em happy I’m still around. For one’s who don’t believe, it won’t mean whale doo doo. Ha!”

So with all the love in the world here the fuck goes again. Another “Robin and Why Not Me?” visitation story, first in a while. Not surprisingly Robin’s visitation are my most popular blog posts so far, more popular than my meditations in Antarctica to save the world that will one day both be gathered up into a book called “All The Way South.”

Seeking some solace I am not drifting into a sea on insanity I sought out the great sonic healer Tom Kenyon at the Conscious Life Expo last week. Sorry no pic, my assistant Gen was shy to join us.

Can’t wait for the day that amazing young woman gets over that shyness and does that part of the work what I hired her. I’m patient. She’s only been with me 5 months. No worries. She’ll get there. Yep. Ten years of meeting celebs in Hollywood has taught me that as long as you are respectful celebs love to be approached. It is, after all, the extrovert’s mission is to have fans.

I complimented Tom that he had done an amazing series of whale songs for his part in the Dr. Masaru Emoto tribute. Emoto is a FB friend I miss dearly. Not that we ever conversed much. I just loved him in my news feed. Tom was happy I enjoyed his Emotto, the water master, whale song tribute. Tom was such bad-ass in he took no intro and just silently exited the stage, after blowing all our minds.

I told Tom I am having visits from Robin as a whale fetus, and his story of the new whale song Robin will sing with his pod to shift the planet to joy and bliss. Tom, a serious man, smiled and nodded and said, “Yes, that sounds like something Robin would do.”

I shook Tom’s hand and said, “Well, thanks for taking me seriously.”

Tom added, “Definitely.” and excused himself to join his son.

I am back in Sedona, after visiting hundreds of friends in LA and deeply back into into my hermit persona that’s so different than how I am anywhere else in the world, Antarctica included. I first learned our persona and horoscopes are heavily influenced by geographic location from a powerful Canadian astrologer during my stint as the social media and sometimes event director at the Great Spirits Ranch in Malibu.

The Astrologer told me in LA is was weak on money attraction for me but back in my base of Chicago I was an epic money man. All true. Time to get a Sedona reading to see why solo life here is a factor.

It’s been a productive, if very lonely life, here in Sedona. I’ve tried two housemates for company in this isolated city with no pedestrian life to speak of, both ended abruptly and painfully. I lost a hiking buddy who works in the spirit tourism trade over his disliking my stance against chemtrails on FB. Chemtrails not real? Get real. Don’t get me wrong I won’t blow up a friendship over chemtrails. He did, attributing believing in chemtrails to being akin to fear of Gays. Huh! Walking papers sent.

One healer woman I met here is so lost and stuck here she barely leaves her home. I fight that urge with hikes, a Pilates class twice a week, eating out at Sedona’s highly limited restaurants. Quality here falls off fast after Cottonwood’s Bocce and Sedona’s Chocolate Tree. Most fare here in the red rock is GMO to the max here. A paradox you combat here by eating healthy organic for at home a lot. Thus back to isolation.

Frequent trips out of town are all that keeps me sane and connected to humanity, aside from the web where I work each day doing socially conscious social media.

I try to be social here in Sedona but it does not work out like it does for me everywhere else. I have about 500 real-life powerful friends on my personal email list. I make friends very easily. But not in Sedona. I was at small Sedona wine party Thursday. I was being social, but it felt forced. One woman sat all alone staring into space. We chatted a while and then she drifited away. Weird. I met an attractive divorcee, who had organized the party for promoting industrial hemp. Seemed promising, but her eyes glazed over when we got to the topic of chemtrails. Such denial our poison skies here. Once the party bunch reached a movie theater showing the film the party was about, cool movie about industrial hemp, I chose to sit alone. Felt so right.

My assistant Gen had a nice friend in town but the idea of being out with them on Valentine’s Day filled me with a dread. I declined and worked all day. I find here in Sedona I am withdrawing further and further from the world of people.

So you can imagine that the spirit visit with Robin felt warm and welcome this Valentine’s Day. Funny. It’s as though I am more connected to spirit people than living people here. Quite puzzling yet wonderful.

At any rate here, was my exchange with Robin today, posted to Facebook in real time. I do that live with Robin, who wants me to learn to imitate his voice for channeling and I am resistive of as it’s a bit manic, much as I love his amazing syle, for me.

ROBIN’S VALENTINE’S MESSAGE

Robin: Valentine’s is always my favorite holiday!

Ken: Why is that, Robin?

Robin: Well, I could make a wisecrack about how easy of a day Valentine’s is to get laid. Ha! But being a whale fetus has taken some of the edge off squishy me. So instead I’ll go spiritual on your ass, Sheetzy and say it’s because of all the love. Yeah, I know it was a god damn Hallmark Holiday for starts. But, man, breathe deep. Breathe the love, baby. The Hallmark corporates did something groovy by mistake. Score one for the light side of the force!

Ken: Yeah, been tuning in on the Valentine’s love from the living Neuro transmitter that is Sedona red rocks and crytals all day. Nice.

Robin: I wanna say to all the lonely hearts out there, like you, Kenny my man, that me and Mama Whale and all us whale cats are with you. Listen to us sing! I’ve already been teaching mama my groovy new frequency of love and joy from inside her big beautiful whale tum tum. We and the dolphins dudes and dudettes are gathering for a new song for Mama Earth! Yo!

Ken: I hear you, bro.

Robin: Actually, I’m a girly whale this incarnation, Sheeterino!

Ken: Well then I am with you, “sista” whale. I have a girl cousin named Robin so you don’t even need a name change.

Robin: Change, baby! Talk about it. I didn’t just have a sex change. I had a whole species change! Whoa! Awesomely epic! can’t wait for my first solo swim in August. Watch out Seven Seas!

Ken: Cool to hear from you so strong again. You were out of touch, just popping in for little giggles.

Robin: Hey, Kenster. It’s a lot of work building a whale fetus and teaching a new song for the earth. Cut me some slack. Hahahaha!

Ken: I am one uptight mo fo. Hahaha!

Robin: Well, speaking of hard work whale building. Mama’s telling me to stop transmitting. Happy VD. The good kind! Williams out!

Ken: Ciao, Robin. Talk again soon. Thanks for the pep talk. Love to you and the pod.

Well, Robin’s whale of a spirit is more conversation than I had with any living soul today, Valentine’s Day. Perhaps that’s part of why I am a hermit in Sedona. My only friends are all work or services related. Lots to ponder on this early morning after a solo Valentine’s Day of hard work preparing for a meeting with my main client.

Heart of the Forest

On May 21, 2014 By Ken SheetzIn Uncategorized1 Comment

Fire is a way nature renews it’s forests, like a heart renews the body with blood. A local Sedona anthropologist pal of mine, Ed Preston, commented to me on a hike a few weeks ago, that our firefighters do such a good job of putting fires out that we have too many trees, which leads to far worse fires in the end than is natural. Ed’s words echo today.

The heart of the forest goes out to our young firefighters, who are very much like our young soldiers, fighting a war that makes no sense to nature. The heart of the forest mourns for those who may lose their homes and possessions by building in areas best left to our tough mama, nature.

Photo by ABC15: http://www.abc15.com/news/news-photo-gallery/slide-fire-prompts-evacuations-road-closures-near-sedona

THE WISCONSIN PROJECT

On January 27, 2014March 11, 2014 By Ken SheetzIn Mayan Calendar, Planetary Meditations, The Shift, UFO, Uncategorized1 Comment

“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.

We 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.

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!

Water Wand

On August 25, 2013May 3, 2014 By Ken SheetzIn DreamShield, Planetary Meditations, UncategorizedLeave a comment

“Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgement. For even the very wise cannot see all ends”

― Wisdom of Gandalf from J.R.R. Tolkien’s, “The Two Towers”

By Ken Sheetz

I meditate this morning on putting out the raging California fires, some 56 of them. One of which has sent San Fransisco into a state of emergency. I use the giant 300 mile long version of a red magnetic magic wand from my childhood once again. It’s proven a faithful effective visualization tool in my planetary meditations for water healings I’ve been doing all week.

Since I am not done with meditations for cleaning Fukushima radiation in the Pacific yet, a series of 12 meditations the guides say are needed for that mess, I will the wand down from the dream shield, powered by the collective consciousness, which hovers at the edge of space. The dream shield is a tool of awesome positive power that I was blessed to work with ETs of the Orion star system to activate in 2010, precisely for urgent planetary emergencies like this one. The biosphere dream device can handle anything space tosses at us or we toss at ourselves.

I send the water wand plunging into the Atlantic. The wand turns from red to blue as it magnetically draws in seawater. The 300 miles long wand sucks in a great deal of water. Next, I levitate the water-soaked magnetic wand from the Atlantic ocean and begin to transport it to California. Not surprisingly, the wand is heavy and clumsy to levitate, holding many tons of water. With concentration the wand slowly makes its way over the US for the San Fransisco area, where millions are threatened. It is Sunday morning August 25th about 5 AM. A galactic portal day, many are saying on Facebook.

As I slowly carry the fire fighting energy of the Atlantic to California, I think back on my asking my brother Fred to help in this DreamShield powered meditation last night. Fred flatly turns me down, saying he is not ready to join me in planetary meditations, not now, perhaps never. That hurt, but I respect this work is not for everyone. Not even my brother.

Me right with Mom and Fred, circa 1950 — Me right with Mom and Fred, circa 1959

Fred and I have a lot healing to do with each other from a childhood where both our parents often pitted us, brother against brother. Fred told me last night once how, when I was senior in high school and he was a freshman, that I passed him in the hallway without saying hi. That hurt him deeply. I don’t recall the instance fully. Most likely, I was just preoccupied. I have mild ADD and I do not do well spotting people in crowds. But Fred’s reaction tells me he is carrying guilt of some kind.

Before I can dig into what that guilt might be, my brother asks if he might visit me in Sedona for a week for my September birthday coming up soon. Well, it was more like Fred me told me at first. Fred can be forceful at times. But Fred saw he was for once and apologized for being pushy. I reassure Fred I am happy he is coming.

Next day, I make plans to house Fred at the resort in his own room. Love my bro, but a week in same room is not my idea of fun. I will be working in advance with angel channel Mica Monet, my beautiful Sedona spirit friend, on healing the complex relationship I have with my brother Fred.

My brother Fred tells me that he wants to come to Sedona because he is awakening to new realms and abilities that began to emerge 2 weeks ago. He asks guidance and support from me, his closest relative aside from his son Joey and our mother. Fred says he also hopes to have a chance to meet my friend and client inventor Patrick Flanagan. I warn Fred I can make no promises about Patrick’s busy schedule.

A simple welder all these many years, by choice, Fred put aside college and a brilliant life as a scientist. Why? To follow in our bipolar father’s footsteps as a tradesman. Nobel hands on work, but the world was cheated of much of Fred’s genius when he dropped out of college. If Patrick is free to meet Fred it will prove an eye opener for my brother to speak with a man who has dedicated his life to inventing holistic remedies and is considered a reincarnation of Nikola Tesla.

Fred was smarter than me in school by far. Too bright for the normal classes that I could barely get by in, Fred took all the advanced classes. Then he turned his back on it all, just to be near dad in the trades. Fred’s reward was to be tormented by our bipolar father on the job. One time my father, as a prank, electrified a large metal container Fred was inside of welding. Fred was nearly electrocuted and never trusted my father again. I distanced myself from my wild father once I grew up, while Fred held him close.

I am happy that Fred is beginning to invent things again, for the first time since we were kids. He is working on a solar steam device and I have been lending him a little financial support, paying back some of the money he loaned me to chase my dream of being a Hollywood director. The least I can do.

For now, however, there is a fury in my brother that radiates from him. You can imagine it’s tough getting back on his true path at the tender age of 59. And, just as with my 2010 awakening, many in the family feel my brother has lost his mind. Why chase inventing versus the solid paychecks of welding as he’s been doing for nearly 40 years, they wonder?

Awakening has been overwhelming for my brother these past few weeks. Fred experiences a wild sense of euphoria mixed with fear and calls me every few hours; compared to our normal once a week hour-long calls. It’s been a strain on me. A part of my recent exhaustion. Fred’s intensely digs deep into things in ways that are hard for my active, less scientific mind to comprehend.

For 3 years the angels have been telling me one of my jobs, as an early awakened soul will be to help the new people waking up. I just never expected that work be this personal. My dear brother, a Gemini with a dualistic nature that has always baffled me. It’s going to be a challenge. But one I am up for here in Sedona with many angels both earthly and otherwise to help me.

On the phone Fred sounds like he’s drinking more than usual. And for a few moments I hear my father’s voice within Fred’s. An other worldly mix of anger and hope at war. A voice I don’t like hearing as my father beat me daily. Dad even broke my arm once by tossing me into a wall when I lashed back at his abuse with a punch to his jaw. I was nine.

On my 12th birthday my father nearly killed me with a belt beating. The crime did not fit my father’s belt lashing. I had hit my baby brother for teasing me. I didn’t like the savings bond gift Dad had got me. I wanted a spaceship toy. For hitting my baby brother Bruce my father goes berserk. Fred tells me, he is 10 at the time, that he feels so helpless as my father lashes me. It is like witnessing firsthand the horrific scene from Gibson’s Christ in the Passion, blood flows from my back to stain my white T-shirt. It takes both my mother and grandmother diving on my crazed father’s back to save my life.

As Fred recounts my sad birthday story from his point of view, he confesses to me for the first time that dad never even spanked him his whole life. Whereas I was beaten badly so often I’ve lost count. I process that revelation for an entire day and next day tell Fred he can feel free of any guilt about his free pass with Dad. Fred took plenty of mental abuse like some sort of co-conspirator/informant. I forgive my brother and feel his relief over the phone. He chokes back with tears his thanks.

Despite all this, my dear brother Fred struggles now with the fact I carry no more anger about our bipolar dad, resulting from my healing work that has gone on for 20 years and concluded here in Sedona with the help of many. Our brotherly rage fest with our father was always something we shared in common. Fred feels alone with his rage now and my breaking of wicked conspiratorial bonds he had to my dad. Fred’s had a powerful psychic surgery from our talks. His healing will take time. And beautiful Sedona will help when he visits me for more pleasant birthday than my twelfth.

Fred tells me he is bringing an old family album with him on his visit to me in Sedona. He says there is a horrific picture where my father’s “demon” was caught on film. I tell Fred there is no such thing as demons. Only repressed anger. But what’s in a name? Anger is a powerful negative force, if left untreated, a devil that wrecks all around us. But I bravely tell Fred I will look at the album to help heal my brother carrying so much shame about not being beaten the way I was. I already know that I will have no anger and fear looking at the photo, even if dad has horns in the photos. Those days of fearing my dad and raging on him are past for me. Fred and I will find a new more positive common ground in our life.

Lost in these thoughts of my brother’s rapid and sudden healing, I drop the water wand as it is passes over Arizona. Rather than get mad at myself, as I might in the past, or even blame Fred for his painful distractions, I send the wand back to the Atlantic and start the meditation over.

dolphin fire fighters — “Dolphin Firefighters” by Ken Sheetz

At last the Atlantic waters of the wand finally reaches the fires of California raging outside San Fransisco. A team of electric dolphins leap from the Pacific, grateful for the Fukushima meditations, join the Atlantic waters and pull a wave of the water soaring into the wall of flame. Living redwoods join to battle the fire by diverting rivers. It’s more epic the LTOR. And the fire dies in a cloud of steam.

I know Patrick Flanagan, who is in California now visiting the Napa Valley, with his amazing wife Stephanie, are both somehow joining this planetary meditation. Ha. They thought they were taking a vacation to the wine country. Angels work in funny ways.

Friday my brother received a gift from me of Megahydrate, an amazing health supplement of Pat’s Phisciences.com. Fred, a heavy smoker, tells me gratefully he feels the hydration instantly in his eyes and dry mouth. Cancer thrives in dehydration, I see in this meditation. Patrick’s gift may then save my smoker brother’s life. No wonder he wants to meet him so badly he is traveling all the way from Wisconsin, our family home.

Patrick’s amazing products are a prime example of how these meditations manifest in ways that our world can facilitate. Earth is, in fact, a manifesting machine. Our thoughts are things and we have far more power to shape this reality than we know.

The fire meditation a success, I find myself in a dream of a rehearsal of a young black singer. He’s a homeless kid I discovered to carry on the work of Michael Jackson. He looks a lot like the young MJ. He sings a newly discovered Jackson song that Michael wrote before his death. It’s angelic. I am blessed to still hear it echo in my mind as a I write you, dear reader. I am in tears as the young man finishes the love song called “Marlene”. I take the homeless MJ kid into a hug. He smells bad and it’s a grimy hug. Waking, I realize it’s a metaphor for my healing brother Fred who will bring a new song to the world from old steam power.

As I write to you, dear reader, I am having an open eye vision that makes it hard to see what I type. It’s a double-exposure where I walk the moist charred fire baked floor of the California forest. Steam mist rises into the air. The fires are out. San Fransisco lies safe in the distance. I again find myself hoping, as I have for three years now, that one day my brother Fred will join me in these amazing, if exhausting, meditations.

And then the ET angel Ohom of the Orion star system asks me to get out of bed and walk to the window of my Sedona area room here in Cottonwood at a cozy B&B called the Desert Rose. It’s time for some confirmation my meditations are real Ohom kids me, knowing I still harbor some doubts. I throw open the little bedroom window. I laugh at what the water wand dropped here from the Atlantic. It is raining in the desert. The first morning rain in my six month stay. Rain soon to visit California.

Enjoy my meditation video about healing fire with the amazing singer/actor Lynda Valliche. It worked here in Arizona, it will work for California.

WINNING A GREEK GOLDEN GLOBE

On August 18, 2013October 10, 2019 By Ken SheetzIn Conscious Media Reviews, DreamShield, The Shift, UncategorizedLeave a comment

“O Helena, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine!

To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne?
Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show
Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!”

– William Shakespeare, “Midsummer Nights Dream”

By Ken Sheetz

Sunday morning meditation 8.18.13. Sedona Arizona area.

I lay tucked in bed in my cozy room at the Desert Rose B&B, up for the day and doing my daily morning meditation. I have no idea I am about to have the biggest vision since the launch of DreamShield in 2010 when I saw 7 foot tall blue skinned ET angels.

I feel called off world and I astral project myself from the resort in Sedona and quickly rocket into space. In no time at all I am past the moon. I will myself to greater speed. Faster than I have ever traveled before in meditation or dreams, I break all laws of physics. I zip past galaxies faster than any human has ever traveled, an impossible one billion times the speed of light.

I come to stop and hover outside the universe(s). It’s a gorgeous vast tangle of galaxies, resembling the human brain’s trillions of neurons, majestically spread before me to infinity.

Now the galaxies shift into a pattern of symbols. A mega “download”. — A somewhat annoying New Age slang term for compressed wisdom transmitted from the spirit world of the ETs. One day we’ll have a better word than the robotic sounding download for these amazing transmissions of so much loving knowledge that takes up so little human drive space in our brains.

What I witness in this epic download is a mixture of Reiki symbols and new alien symbols never seen before by human eyes. I make a mental note to use hypnosis to recall them at a later date. Recording them using the pen and paper on my nightstand would end the vision before I could copy down more than a few of the 77 dazzling symbols made of trillions of galaxies floating before me.

All for later to recall this and share it. Or perhaps not at all as this may be a simple relay job for me. Much of my vision work is like that. Another reason not to disturb the vision by jotting down the amazing symbols formed of all the galaxies. I see now, like our Gaia, galaxies are living creatures. The galaxies have flown into these patterns, like a flock of birds, for me to see this message that will transform me and our world in ways we cannot even imagine. For now, laying peacefully in my bed, at my Sedona base of operations for DreamShield meditations and the incredible day job of filming THE FLANAGAN EXPERIMENTS, this cosmic majesty is more than enough.

TRAIN IN THE RAIN

I reflect on the night before, where I took the stars of the new hit web series with over 25 million views, Patrick Flanagan and his wife Stephanie, as my guests on the Verde Valley train ride. It rains the whole train trip, from heavy to light. I tell the amazing couple I am sorry for the rain blocking out the stars and moon. But as long-time residents of the desert, both are happy for the rain.

While the rain and rocks of the Verde river fly the windows, Patrick is lost in his virtual lab. An inner sanctuary where he perfects his inventions before bringing them out to share in this world. Stephanie and he have a passionate relationship I have been lucky to catch on film. Neither pulls any punches debating the Shift and their roles in it. And a little wine and champagne sets off another of their brush fire talks.

As always, I am amazed these two can argue so heatedly like this and be hugging and kissing five minutes later. It’s something I would enjoy to a smaller degree in my next relationship. They purge and a process oceans of male and female energies like nothing I have ever witnessed.

A big part of the train ride is spent coaching Stephanie on dealing with the criticisms of friends and strangers about her part in THE FLANAGAN EXPERIMENTS. These superb videos have been her first direct public exposure before the camera. I teach her that many people have hidden agendas and petty jealousies when they make comments. Extreme caution must be taken when listening to feedback. Truly honest and tasteful feedback people are a rare commodity.

Frankly, when Patrick told me he wanted to share the spotlight his wife Stephanie, who had never been on camera before, I was against it. But I listen to genius, one of my exceptions, and so I filmed Steph. I was blown away with her deep knowledge of the ancient Mayan calendar and how its’ still very much alive. I’ve learned from her the Mayan calendar didn’t really end on 12.21.12 like we all thought. Kind of embarrassing for a guy basing his whole life preparing for that date for three years. Click here to see Stephanie’s brilliant interview on the new Vimeo channel I am building for Patrick.

Patrick wants to stay in the first-class indoor car to keep working on his new invention. He literally creates electrical diagrams in his mind first before placing pencil to paper. Stephanie ‘s disappointed her husband is lost in thought and I escort her out of the train car into the rain. We have the outdoor viewing car mostly to ourselves, except for a worried old tour guide from the east coast who frets about us slipping on the wet deck. Stephanie and I grab a spot out of the direct rain under the awnings, normally meant for shade from the hot Arizona sun.

Here in the freshest damp air I’ve ever breathed, I teach Stephanie a bit about the Hollywood School of Hard Knocks skills on how to listen, sift what may be useful from viewer comments and move on. This hard-won skill took me years to develop. So I advise Steph to be patient with herself as she grows a thicker skin for her vital work as a new web celeb.

As the train winds through the rain-soaked desert, the smell of wet sage fills my lungs. It’s then I realize helping Stephanie overcome this negativity and other negativity that bombards her sensitive soul, is one of the reasons I’ve been brought here to Sedona.

DreamShield is uniquely positive in its mission. Wildly positive in the face of epic negativity. All will be well in the end no matter how bad things may look is its simple yet potent message of hope. I see in Stephanie’s face a lifting of the veil of the negative forces keeping her down. My heart soars as we sip our champagnes while the rain-soaked train steams past ancient Hopi ruins carved in the rock mountains.

The rain lets up and I coax Patrick to take a break, from inventing god only knows what, to venture out of the luxury train car onto the open air platforms where all the majesty of the desert surrounds us. Light rain pelts me and I now get why the dynamic couple are happy about the rain. Patrick rejoins his wife of eighteen years with hugs and kisses. No residue of their little argument remains.

Patrick, who has been in the public eye since the 1960s when LIFE MAGAZINE featured him as one of the top ten scientists to watch in the world, reinforces what I am teaching Stephanie about ignoring and filtering harsh comments of strangers and loved ones. I realize this new stress of being exposed on the web is Stephanie’s the source of physical pain in her leg that she complained of as our train pulled out of Clarkdale.

With her permission and Pat’s support, I give Steph a train ride Reiki treatment. I picture a globe of water energy soothing her cramped leg and send all tension down into the train tracks to be crushed. Soon as I finish the healing, Stephanie hops from the bench and starts dancing on the train car deck as PEACE TRAIN plays on the PA. I say to Patrick, “Wow. My best Reiki healing ever.” I only do these healings for friends, even though I constantly get heat from my Reiki teacher Dorothy Donahue in LA to hang up a shingle.

Patrick looks worried Stephanie is hopping around on the hurt leg so soon on the slippery wet train deck. I simply shrug in amazement.

As the train ride nears its end, we pass through an old slag heap from when this scenic train line used to carry copper, not sight-seers. The train track cuts through the heart of the slag heap. And the old train conductor explains, with his thick east coast accent, that the slag is has just been bought by a mining company to sift gold, silver and other raw minerals from it. Bought for 1.5 million dollars. Not bad for an old slag heap from 1911 when this train line was first built.

I hold forth my hand at the slag heap as the trains passes through the carved channel. I will the slag heap to send a healing surge into all aboard this train, pulled by an eagle painted engine car. A sign for yours truly who has an eagle pattern as a natural tattoo in his head from seeing angels in Italy. I see the sparkles of gold float into all of us. Another download.

WINNING A GOLDEN GLOBE

Back to the next morning meditation where I travel beyond the universe: The moist desert air from the train ride with Pat and Steph has done me good. I woke rested from my best sleep so far in Sedona. Usually, the dry desert air and my sinuses issue are a serious problem I battle here in Sedona all night long. Guess I am adapted to a lifetime the humid climates of Lake Michigan and the Pacific.

I record the epic sight of the universe(s) condensed to code with a mental snapshot to review later in hypnosis. I turn from the strange new symbols formed from galaxies to find myself standing at the front entrance of a small shop. I look up at the sign and it says “Golden Age Curiosities”.

A shop bell chimes as I enter the magical little store. The golden light of the shop is something you can feel as well as see.

A young goddess with sandy red hair looks up from her golden cash register. “Welcome to our little shop at the end of the universes. What reality can I help with you, Mr Sheetz?” she says gesturing to golden shelves filled with various realities held suspended in crystal globes.

“Cool,” I say, “I’m looking for something peaceful for Earth but not boring.”

“We don’t do boring, ” says the goddess shopkeeper, taking me by the arm. She guides me a few paces from her counter to browse new realities contained in beautiful globes lining her store’s golden shelves.

“May I suggest our Grecian Reboot model?” the goddess says with a dazzling smile. “Perfect thing for worlds like yours that need major overhaul.”

I am a power shopper in real life and I know when I’ve found the right thing, so I say, “Sold! What’s your name, miss?”

The graceful goddess lifts the Grecian Reboot globe from the shelf as she says, “Helena.”

“Wow. As in Helena of Troy?” I wonder.

“Just Helena,” she giggles, casually boxing my purchase of new reality for earth. Just another day’s work for this goddess.

Pardon my brief detour from recounting the meditation vision of Helena’s store. But as I write this I blog I just researched on Google, our modern Oracle, and I see why Helena giggles at me here in the re-telling of the epic vision. #1 it’s Helen of Troy. #2 Helena is a daughter of Zeus. Some references cite Helena, not as daughter but as a consort to Zeus. Yahoo says Helena was not a goddess of any particular thing. Not anymore.

I also just found the Shakespeare quote top of the blog, all found post-vision and note how amazing it is that it’s from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” here during midsummer in Sedona! All these clues are meant to show me and you, dear reader, to take these vision as real on another plane of reality. This globe of change is real that sweet Helena has gifted us.

I peer into the Grecian Reboot globe and see the Parthenon of Greece, restored to full glory, operating in energetic lockstep with a mock Parthenon in Nashville. A fit to all my recent visions of a Greece that never fell. A lost timeline of a Golden Age that never ended that we are rejoining .

“Will this really do the trick for my messed up world, Helena?”

“We guarantee all our new realities, Mr. Sheetz.” Helena says with a smile that fills my heart with golden light.

The dazzling vision of Helena’s shop fades. I lay contented in bed at the resort in meditation a while longer, awaiting more wonders. Then I realize I am being greedy. How the heck do you top a meditation about a golden globe given to you by the goddess Helena at the end of the universe for rebooting your home planet?

Eat your heart out, Hollywood. No wonder I don’t bother with TV or movies much anymore. Why with the wonders that lie within… free and easy to access? Just a little good breathing, some concentration and, zoom, your off the stars!

I chuckle at my old Matrix greed that lingers and hop from bed a freer man. Time for a bike ride in the desert and then coffee to blog about this while all is fresh in my mind.

Here’s my video about rain in the desert from 2005.

FORGIVING DR. JEKEYLL

On July 31, 2013August 2, 2013 By Ken SheetzIn Uncategorized1 Comment

“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.

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?”

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.

Media, Meditations & Musings

Tag: Sedona

Robin Williams’ Valentine’s Day Visitation

Heart of the Forest

THE WISCONSIN PROJECT

Water Wand

WINNING A GREEK GOLDEN GLOBE

FORGIVING DR. JEKEYLL

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