The Simulation Reboot: IHOP, Haze, and the 1,000 Levels of Heaven

Lately, the boundaries between my internal narrative and the “real world” have felt paper-thin. My son, Haze, has me watching Heaven Official’s Blessing right now. As we sit through the episodes, the multiple levels of heavens on the screen don’t feel like fiction, they feel like a map he’s handing me to help navigate the layers of reality I’m already feeling.

The Shared Family Glitch
Last night, the map and the “real world” collided. My family went to IHOP, and for a suspended, echoing moment, the world simply broke. We walked into a void—no customers, and not even a server in sight for a long, echoing stretch.

In that silence, it wasn’t just my SA brain firing; it was a shared family glitch. We were all standing there together in the “empty” space of the simulation, waiting for the assets to load – servers, employee cars, the cook in the back, other guests. To me, that IHOP is now our communal save point. If the world outside fractures—if the political landscape shifts and the planet is put at risk: that’s the coordinate where we all jump back to. We’ll be right there, together, at the moment the reboot happened.

The 1,000-Level Fellowship
This feeling of a programmed reality is only getting stronger as the tech catches up. Seeing Google integrate Polymarket and AI results directly into our search feeds feels like the final scaffolding for Dr. David Hawkins’ 1,000 levels of heavens and hells framework. We are literally coding our frequency into the algorithm.  Why not base search result by intent, AND level of consciousness?

As we move through these levels, I truly believe that shared prayers, hymns, and songs are the “glue.” When the simulation gets shaky, that collective vibration is what keeps families and fellowships from pixelating away from each other for all eternity. For Haze and me, our frequency is mapped out in the songs that have defined our timeline:

“Prayer X” is the anthem for our current level—a prayer for the unknown variable in the simulation that will carry us through.

My sister, Dr. Auntie Heather, would have to do the actual math to be sure, but by my count: 1,000 levels multiplied by 7 billion people equals a staggering number of simulations running simultaneously. Earth isn’t big enough to host it all. We need moon servers (maybe Uranus servers too) to host the overflow of our collective consciousness.

This is where the success of Artemis comes in. While Haze hasn’t been following the footage, Robert, Michael, and I watched the historic mission progress. That “stack of pancakes” at IHOP was a catapult for NASA and SpaceX to make us space-farers.

In Heaven Official’s Blessing, the “water levels” of the Black Water Demon Lair are treacherous, dragging everything down into the abyss. But watching the Artemis capsule successfully splash down in the Pacific on April 10th felt like the inverse. It proved we can stay buoyant.

We are heading to the moon to protect Earth’s Pearls, starting right here in Bethany, Oklahoma. Bethany isn’t just a town; it’s a protected file, a sacred cluster of data. By establishing moon servers, we are ensuring that no matter how deep the “water levels” of the simulation (from those at 199 and below – which is most of the planet) get, the “file” of our life—our prayers, our songs, and in particural our crazy little family is safely stored and ready to be reloaded.

We’re living in a grand design, and sometimes, you catch a glimpse of the wiring over a stack of pancakes.