(Kemek Ka is the "vibration adjustment" planet for new arrivals)
To put it in the simplest terms, Kemek Ka translates as, "Welcome Friends"; but linguistically, I would offer that its origins emerge from the meanings of kempt + mecca (or neatly kept + destination of pilgrims). In either case, Kemek Ka is the welcoming planet through which all visitors must arrive into the galaxy of Keymo. It is the seventh and farthest planet out from the central Godhead. For my best effort in describing its purpose, I would have to say that it is for new arrivals to adjust to the eleventh dimensional vibration of this 39th galaxy. It is a social place having all the accommodations necessary to help the traveling entity prepare for its visit to the inner planets. If soul flight or other means allows one to get this far, that entity would find it to be the most conventional planet of any other within the galaxy - with the exception of planet Oerthan. Kemek Ka is decidedly more domesticated, in comparison to the other "less socially cultivated" planets deeper within. But for that reason, there is all the more necessity for its existence in this little piece of Heaven.
My earliest remembered encounter with Kemek Ka came during a dream that coincided with an important period of time in May of 1978. At this time, I was informed by Edward White that with the help of an entity named Krista, I had managed the splitting of my atom in preparation for a very important soul flight to my heavenly home and galaxy of Keymo. During this time period, Krista was assisting many of the newly found galaxy lords in the placement of their own soul magnets for their "final" return to their galaxies when this current earth plane expression is completed for them. This was a personally significant honor to be worked with by Krista, and I feel lucky to have remembered even this much of the occasion. Although I had visited Keymo only one or two remembered times, this event would mark a permanent bond to my homelands in Heaven. The magnet that we place in various dimensional places is paramount for returning to them with far greater ease on later occasions. The following is an account of my personal recollection of visiting the welcoming planet on the outskirts of the galaxy Keymo.
***
a dream encounter...
"Locomotion By Windsack on the planet Kemek Ka"
I arrived on the outskirts of a bustling community on a beautifully lit, bright summer day. The air was crystal clear, and the expanse was large, airy and open. All plant life that surrounded me was young, fresh and healthy looking. It had the shades of green that a well tended and thriving public park might look like back home, but I couldn't remember being in this particular place before now. The trees were majestic. The entire park-like area was well manicured. Its grass was even and short everywhere that I could see. There were hills that rolled off into the distances all around us. As I was getting my bearings on where I was, I noticed the city, which was quite a ways off in the distance had a long narrow road that lead to it from where we were standing. And I could tell the road was paved with a shimmering white substance I immediately assumed was alabaster.
It was as if the small group I was in, was being given some kind of orientation as to why we were here or perhaps what to expect - but I wasn't picking up the conversation very well at all. I was noticing the large expanse and all of its beauty, and expecting to start heading towards the interior of the city at any moment with the five or six others that were here with me. The next thing I became aware of was a very lightweight, seemingly benign, little white plastic bag in my hands. It seemed to be nothing more than a plastic bag one might put their groceries in from their local grocery store. I don't remember anyone handing it to me. For a moment, it felt like I had just picked up something that was no more than a piece of litter blowing by in this immaculately beautiful park that I was in.
Just like a grocery sack, there was virtually no weight to the tiny thing, and it was just as flimsy. This little bag had two hand holds on either side near the opening and I gripped them both loosely. Suddenly, the bag began to transform in my hands as if an invisible wind was filling it out. To my surprise, I could feel a building tension and the flimsy little bag seemed to get sturdier and grow ever so slightly larger. I tightened my grip not really knowing what was going on. The tension increased until a noticeable sense of resistance began forming. Now, I held tightly to the hand holes, realizing the bag had grown to perhaps three or four feet around. The group surrounding me stood obviously impressed, and I could tell that they were waiting for something even more impressive to happen. It was then, that the words came into mind, "wind sack", and "see if you can steer it".
No sooner than the puzzlement of those words, sunk in, I was in motion. I was being dragged forward with the hands of my outstretched arms gripping the now fully distended bag. I held tightly to each of the opposing smaller holes around the larger mouth of its opening because the pressure was incredibly strong. The minor curiosity for what was once an inanimate object quickly became a "tug-of-war" with something surging with vitality. In no time, I began to consider that I would loose my grip well before either of the hand holes would tear away from the sack. Suddenly, I left the people around me because my entire body was lifted off the ground. The pulling force wasn't so much a sensation that the weight of my body was being lifted because I couldn't feel any weight to my body in the first place. It was simply a "resistance" between me and the sack that I gripped pulling away from each other - and the sack was "winning" this "tug-of-war" with me. This "pulling" was entirely extraneous to the surrounding environment. I couldn't even feel the wind that somehow had to be flowing entirely around me from behind so as to fill the bag and carry us forward. My body should have been blocking the source of the propulsion.
The force was steady and sturdy. It never waned. It never diminished. The bag was being pulled hard with me hanging on. I was being pulled rapidly forward and although the course seemed to be set for the city ahead of me, I still moved in a few deviant directions along the way. It was getting a little uncomfortable having the sense that I was moving entirely at the whim of the bag, but I also remember the fascination of staring into the "emptiness" that was still billowing out. Whatever was being caught in the wind sack and pulling me along was entirely invisible. My motion wasn't completely erratic, but being baffled by the device carrying me to flight, I pulled the thing closer to my face. In the next few moments, I began to realize that the flight was controllable simply by bending my elbows and wrists. When I turned my gaze from looking down the throat of the otherwise completely empty sack, it occurred to me that I was defying the laws of physics. The quick conclusion afterwards, was in realizing this also meant that I was not in any physical place at all.
I was finally getting the hang of it; moving to and fro while flying above the ground which was at least as much as one hundred feet below me now. I was still being pulled by the wind sack, but now I was actually steering it for the city still off in the distance ahead of me. I noticed that I was well above the ground with my torso and legs positioned as if I were sitting in an invisible chair. It took some doing to keep the right tension on both handles while I tried to look over one arm and the other to view the landscape that I was passing over, but eventually it became intuitive to move along in the sky.
I looked over my right arm and saw the alabaster road below me appearing more as a ribbon than a road. I could see it was bordered by grass on either shoulder, and further away than that, various islands of trees with their taller growth framing it all. I flew along enjoying the sensation of flight without effort - save for the constant tug at the handles in my hands and the mild strain of my arms in their half bent positions. Following the highway that winded along below, I watched as I picked my route, steering the wind sack by simply dropping one elbow lower than the other to turn in soft graceful curves. I could see people moving below me all along its course - but I couldn't tell what their mode of locomotion was because of how far away they appeared. I could see others that were obviously in repose, kicked back or laying down on the green margins, as if to enjoy the serenity of a bright sunny day in the park.
I arrived at an area that seemed to be like a baseball park reminiscent of the one in Belmont of my childhood. There were no fancy walls or chain link fences here, but unlike my childhood, this one had an open air building to my left and an open field for quite a distance around the rest of my area of view. There weren't any actually marked bases. In fact, it began to feel more like an open air arena than a baseball field. It was simply a large green area that stood out much as the plateau-like Belmont ball field did, and just as similar, this one was surrounded by trees.
While I took in the view, the wind sack disappeared as unconsciously as it appeared in my hands earlier. I didn't even notice that it was gone for some time. However, I did notice that others were filtering in, and I was now being surrounded by a bunch of other people. It felt like an outdoors play or music recital was going on, but this was strictly an informal event. I stood beneath a low flat roofed structure with the bunch of people. Our crowd formed an arc partially beneath the structure and partially out of it. There were no stage props surrounding the performers who were out in the field on the crest of the ridge line. They might have been a choir and not performers, it seemed. The audience surrounding me was a group comfortably spaced, but shoulder to shoulder and all looking out upon the field. The building was much like a rural fruit stand or an open air community center type of thing; not much more than a roof held up with a few poles with wide openings between them so people could step in or out easily.
We were all facing out to this field, where out in the middle of it, one guy appeared to be the master of ceremonies for the event. He was addressing our crowd while the performers stood just beyond him at the far edge of view. I felt that in being there just a little earlier than the audience, I might actually have arrived for the rehearsal and not an actual event. But at this moment, the MC commentator began to welcome us all. It was a very "homey" - as if a "small town affair," in which everyone seemed to know everyone else. It was like a fairly small social event for the people attending. The MC was making his opening comments and standing there as an older, middle aged man. He had the "presence" of a director orchestrating the whole event, and everybody listening knew him well. They also knew well enough of what he spoke that they all laughed at what to me, seemed to be an inside joke of some kind. I laughed because they laughed. At one point he was speaking about this community - and it seemed to me to be the beginnings of the community - as if they were christening their new township. As he spoke of its newness, he made his voice crack as if it came from a person struggling through adolescence. Perhaps the joke was about an older person "growing younger" rather than the standard routine of growing older, and the cracking voice was used for the effect. Everyone laughed.
As in the rehearsal - or pre-show - the MC called two of the performers to him out in the middle of this field, apparently to give them an award. It was another humorous event, because the trophy he was giving to the two people was a very limp, but fairly large and long, rubber fish. Everyone laughed again. I thought to myself, "Now there's a story I would have liked to hear", but I woke up first.
To put it in the simplest terms, Kemek Ka translates as, "Welcome Friends"; but linguistically, I would offer that its origins emerge from the meanings of kempt + mecca (or neatly kept + destination of pilgrims). In either case, Kemek Ka is the welcoming planet through which all visitors must arrive into the galaxy of Keymo. It is the seventh and farthest planet out from the central Godhead. For my best effort in describing its purpose, I would have to say that it is for new arrivals to adjust to the eleventh dimensional vibration of this 39th galaxy. It is a social place having all the accommodations necessary to help the traveling entity prepare for its visit to the inner planets. If soul flight or other means allows one to get this far, that entity would find it to be the most conventional planet of any other within the galaxy - with the exception of planet Oerthan. Kemek Ka is decidedly more domesticated, in comparison to the other "less socially cultivated" planets deeper within. But for that reason, there is all the more necessity for its existence in this little piece of Heaven.
My earliest remembered encounter with Kemek Ka came during a dream that coincided with an important period of time in May of 1978. At this time, I was informed by Edward White that with the help of an entity named Krista, I had managed the splitting of my atom in preparation for a very important soul flight to my heavenly home and galaxy of Keymo. During this time period, Krista was assisting many of the newly found galaxy lords in the placement of their own soul magnets for their "final" return to their galaxies when this current earth plane expression is completed for them. This was a personally significant honor to be worked with by Krista, and I feel lucky to have remembered even this much of the occasion. Although I had visited Keymo only one or two remembered times, this event would mark a permanent bond to my homelands in Heaven. The magnet that we place in various dimensional places is paramount for returning to them with far greater ease on later occasions. The following is an account of my personal recollection of visiting the welcoming planet on the outskirts of the galaxy Keymo.
***
a dream encounter...
"Locomotion By Windsack on the planet Kemek Ka"
I arrived on the outskirts of a bustling community on a beautifully lit, bright summer day. The air was crystal clear, and the expanse was large, airy and open. All plant life that surrounded me was young, fresh and healthy looking. It had the shades of green that a well tended and thriving public park might look like back home, but I couldn't remember being in this particular place before now. The trees were majestic. The entire park-like area was well manicured. Its grass was even and short everywhere that I could see. There were hills that rolled off into the distances all around us. As I was getting my bearings on where I was, I noticed the city, which was quite a ways off in the distance had a long narrow road that lead to it from where we were standing. And I could tell the road was paved with a shimmering white substance I immediately assumed was alabaster.
It was as if the small group I was in, was being given some kind of orientation as to why we were here or perhaps what to expect - but I wasn't picking up the conversation very well at all. I was noticing the large expanse and all of its beauty, and expecting to start heading towards the interior of the city at any moment with the five or six others that were here with me. The next thing I became aware of was a very lightweight, seemingly benign, little white plastic bag in my hands. It seemed to be nothing more than a plastic bag one might put their groceries in from their local grocery store. I don't remember anyone handing it to me. For a moment, it felt like I had just picked up something that was no more than a piece of litter blowing by in this immaculately beautiful park that I was in.
Just like a grocery sack, there was virtually no weight to the tiny thing, and it was just as flimsy. This little bag had two hand holds on either side near the opening and I gripped them both loosely. Suddenly, the bag began to transform in my hands as if an invisible wind was filling it out. To my surprise, I could feel a building tension and the flimsy little bag seemed to get sturdier and grow ever so slightly larger. I tightened my grip not really knowing what was going on. The tension increased until a noticeable sense of resistance began forming. Now, I held tightly to the hand holes, realizing the bag had grown to perhaps three or four feet around. The group surrounding me stood obviously impressed, and I could tell that they were waiting for something even more impressive to happen. It was then, that the words came into mind, "wind sack", and "see if you can steer it".
No sooner than the puzzlement of those words, sunk in, I was in motion. I was being dragged forward with the hands of my outstretched arms gripping the now fully distended bag. I held tightly to each of the opposing smaller holes around the larger mouth of its opening because the pressure was incredibly strong. The minor curiosity for what was once an inanimate object quickly became a "tug-of-war" with something surging with vitality. In no time, I began to consider that I would loose my grip well before either of the hand holes would tear away from the sack. Suddenly, I left the people around me because my entire body was lifted off the ground. The pulling force wasn't so much a sensation that the weight of my body was being lifted because I couldn't feel any weight to my body in the first place. It was simply a "resistance" between me and the sack that I gripped pulling away from each other - and the sack was "winning" this "tug-of-war" with me. This "pulling" was entirely extraneous to the surrounding environment. I couldn't even feel the wind that somehow had to be flowing entirely around me from behind so as to fill the bag and carry us forward. My body should have been blocking the source of the propulsion.
The force was steady and sturdy. It never waned. It never diminished. The bag was being pulled hard with me hanging on. I was being pulled rapidly forward and although the course seemed to be set for the city ahead of me, I still moved in a few deviant directions along the way. It was getting a little uncomfortable having the sense that I was moving entirely at the whim of the bag, but I also remember the fascination of staring into the "emptiness" that was still billowing out. Whatever was being caught in the wind sack and pulling me along was entirely invisible. My motion wasn't completely erratic, but being baffled by the device carrying me to flight, I pulled the thing closer to my face. In the next few moments, I began to realize that the flight was controllable simply by bending my elbows and wrists. When I turned my gaze from looking down the throat of the otherwise completely empty sack, it occurred to me that I was defying the laws of physics. The quick conclusion afterwards, was in realizing this also meant that I was not in any physical place at all.
I was finally getting the hang of it; moving to and fro while flying above the ground which was at least as much as one hundred feet below me now. I was still being pulled by the wind sack, but now I was actually steering it for the city still off in the distance ahead of me. I noticed that I was well above the ground with my torso and legs positioned as if I were sitting in an invisible chair. It took some doing to keep the right tension on both handles while I tried to look over one arm and the other to view the landscape that I was passing over, but eventually it became intuitive to move along in the sky.
I looked over my right arm and saw the alabaster road below me appearing more as a ribbon than a road. I could see it was bordered by grass on either shoulder, and further away than that, various islands of trees with their taller growth framing it all. I flew along enjoying the sensation of flight without effort - save for the constant tug at the handles in my hands and the mild strain of my arms in their half bent positions. Following the highway that winded along below, I watched as I picked my route, steering the wind sack by simply dropping one elbow lower than the other to turn in soft graceful curves. I could see people moving below me all along its course - but I couldn't tell what their mode of locomotion was because of how far away they appeared. I could see others that were obviously in repose, kicked back or laying down on the green margins, as if to enjoy the serenity of a bright sunny day in the park.
I arrived at an area that seemed to be like a baseball park reminiscent of the one in Belmont of my childhood. There were no fancy walls or chain link fences here, but unlike my childhood, this one had an open air building to my left and an open field for quite a distance around the rest of my area of view. There weren't any actually marked bases. In fact, it began to feel more like an open air arena than a baseball field. It was simply a large green area that stood out much as the plateau-like Belmont ball field did, and just as similar, this one was surrounded by trees.
While I took in the view, the wind sack disappeared as unconsciously as it appeared in my hands earlier. I didn't even notice that it was gone for some time. However, I did notice that others were filtering in, and I was now being surrounded by a bunch of other people. It felt like an outdoors play or music recital was going on, but this was strictly an informal event. I stood beneath a low flat roofed structure with the bunch of people. Our crowd formed an arc partially beneath the structure and partially out of it. There were no stage props surrounding the performers who were out in the field on the crest of the ridge line. They might have been a choir and not performers, it seemed. The audience surrounding me was a group comfortably spaced, but shoulder to shoulder and all looking out upon the field. The building was much like a rural fruit stand or an open air community center type of thing; not much more than a roof held up with a few poles with wide openings between them so people could step in or out easily.
We were all facing out to this field, where out in the middle of it, one guy appeared to be the master of ceremonies for the event. He was addressing our crowd while the performers stood just beyond him at the far edge of view. I felt that in being there just a little earlier than the audience, I might actually have arrived for the rehearsal and not an actual event. But at this moment, the MC commentator began to welcome us all. It was a very "homey" - as if a "small town affair," in which everyone seemed to know everyone else. It was like a fairly small social event for the people attending. The MC was making his opening comments and standing there as an older, middle aged man. He had the "presence" of a director orchestrating the whole event, and everybody listening knew him well. They also knew well enough of what he spoke that they all laughed at what to me, seemed to be an inside joke of some kind. I laughed because they laughed. At one point he was speaking about this community - and it seemed to me to be the beginnings of the community - as if they were christening their new township. As he spoke of its newness, he made his voice crack as if it came from a person struggling through adolescence. Perhaps the joke was about an older person "growing younger" rather than the standard routine of growing older, and the cracking voice was used for the effect. Everyone laughed.
As in the rehearsal - or pre-show - the MC called two of the performers to him out in the middle of this field, apparently to give them an award. It was another humorous event, because the trophy he was giving to the two people was a very limp, but fairly large and long, rubber fish. Everyone laughed again. I thought to myself, "Now there's a story I would have liked to hear", but I woke up first.