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!

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.