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Ancestral Grief III: Recognising Conditioned Self-Hatred

Growing up, I’ve had a dislike for most things German. Or rather for the things I was taught were German (I’ll get back to this soon). 

 

I hated modern German TV series and films from the 2000s. The bad acting, bad plots, unappealing lighting and filters.


I found the mainstream German art style for kids’ shows and illustrations horrendous.


I didn’t even like the sound of my own native language. Even before I could read, I knew I wanted to learn English and understand all those cool English songs on the radio. They were much more melodious and appealing than the majority of jarring German pop. I had my exceptions, of course. Folk songs, for example.


What I actually hated was the artificial flavour of it all.


Back then, I had no word for it, but artificial, rigid, and synthetic is the frequency transmitted in modern German content.


Have you ever eaten a bag of chips that’s been opened some time ago? That’s what it feels like to me.


Stale. Lackluster. Flat.


And that’s because it is.


See, the German content I liked was the old stuff. From really old black-and-white to the pre-modern early 90s films. Actors like Heinz Erhardt, Hans Rühmann, Rolf Hoppe, Loriot. Names the older German generations know well.


I love(d) the dialogues, word choices and expressions, the clear cinematography, locations, everything.


That’s the kind of German my heart connected to.


That’s not the kind of German the mainstream wanted me to connect to.


I never cared about the mainstream then and now I don’t either.


But this one connection point didn’t shake the overall apathy towards most other aspects of German culture—which are plentiful and vastly different from state to state. There actually are no “Germans”. Until the late 1800s, “Germany” was the Holy Roman Empire which consisted of many independent states, duchies, and cities with their own unique history, political interests, and group identity.


Germanic, yes, but not German.


That’s a big difference!


I’ve never connected to being called a German. It means nothing to me. It’s a plastic name tag. And I know this is the overarching sentiment in the country, too. And good luck telling an Austrian “You’re a German.” Or a Swiss. Or a Lichtensteiner.


That’s because words carry frequency. Language is internal sensation packaged into sounds for the external to understand us on an emotional, embodied level.


Of course I felt nothing calling myself a German. It’s a synthetic label forced upon me that’s void of my actual essence.


Prussian (or rather Preuße, since the native word carries the full drop of truth) feels like light spreading through me with the clunk of “Yes. This. Here it is.” into my pelvis.


The sky is blue.


Grass is green.


I’m a Prussian.


It’s the same obvious clarity.


It relaxes my muscles and deepens my breathing. It lights up my body.


(Are there individuals who do feel connected to calling themselves German? Probably. But if they were the majority, we wouldn’t see the external effects of cultural self-hatred right now.)


A Bavarian will always be a Bavarian. A Hessian will always be a Hessian. And a Prussian will always be a Prussian.


Except the Prussian identity has been deliberately eradicated after WW2.


The heartbreaking truth is I barely know anything about East Prussian culture. What I do know I picked up from my grandparents and the books I’m reading.


But the education system? The media? Ads? Other people?


Nothing.


For people who grew up within a cultural identity, this will be impossible to empathise with.


What does it feel like to have no connection to one’s lineage, home, history?


I’ll tell you.


It feels apathetic. Apathy is one of the lowest emotional frequencies.


It feels like your country, your people, your shared values don’t matter—because none of those things even exist. You’re alone. If you’re lucky, you have a loving family. But if not, you’re isolated.


There’s no bigger picture. There’s no red thread to follow backwards or forwards in time to explore where you came from and where you ought to go. There’s no famous people of the past to learn from or orient your principles on.


So who cares if your culture gets destroyed when you don’t even have a culture to protect?


All of that is insane.


Now that my body has physical access to this spot of shared history and belonging, I can safely say that.


It’s insane.


It’s insane that the majority of Prussian descendants live internally fractured, whether they know it or not.


I certainly didn’t know it.


I had no fucking idea I’d be feeling my entire upper body for the first time in my life after touching this specific pocket of grief and anger.


And a whole lot more is still inside my tissues.


Reconnecting to my nation flipped a switch. The energy is so steady, so smooth, so nourishing, so heated, that my lowest frequencies just can’t survive. It’s been two months and there’s still physical pain when my numb tissues get roused by its heat.


That’s another reason why you have to be able to sit with discomfort sometimes. This is a healing kind of pain that I have to feel.


So, how do low frequencies get stuck in the body in the first place?


View trauma as a soul fracture. A part of you breaks away, leaving an open space, and that space then gets occupied by something that is ‘Not Love’. Many teachers call it an entity, but that sounds scary to most people (it’s not though).


You can picture it as a vacuum cleaner feeding off your life force by having your mind trapped in a shame/guilt/fear/anger/other low frequencies loop.


That’s what it felt like to me. I’d get into these moods where I’d be a shell of myself. My mind would visualise the worst things happening to me or loved ones, and I’d agonise over those scenarios.


It’s self-hatred and self-abandonment.


It’s a collapse.


It’s being reduced to a heap on the floor and an invisible vampire sucking you dry.


When you have unintegrated trauma, when you’re not fully embodied, then your body’s energy is available to any outside force to twist your mind into doing its bidding.


I don’t mean demons. I mean other people, mob think, propaganda.


Personally, I know an external force was feeding off of me, and I’ll tell you my experience purging it (or part of it) next time.


So many people walk around with that energetic open wound, having no idea how dissociated they are.


And at the same time, I know it’s all perfect in the big picture. This is where we are, so this is our starting point.


There’s a specific trajectory to this “Prussian frequency”. It’s not interested in my saviorship or fantasies. It asks to come through by me integrating the pain it shakes loose, sharing my process to serve others in their awakening, and embodying it. I’m also very clear that it’s not my soul itself. Instead, my soul chose this body with this specific generational trauma for a reason—like every soul chooses its “avatar” for a reason.


This frequency feels like the sun expanding my solar plexus. It reaches all the way to the back of my heart which is a very painful spot. It hurts like when you’ve fallen and the wind gets knocked out of you. I’m slow in that spot and can only brush my metaphorical fingertips over it.             


This frequency feels like a cuddly blanket I can put on everywhere. It’s calm and peaceful and seeps into me like honey. It’s earthy and warm; a cocoon for the pain to pulsate and settle until the wound is cleaned of pus and able to heal.


It’s all love, really. Beautiful and wonderful.


And every single Prussian deserves to feel this connection to who we are.


If you’re living from your mind, you might not understand how to connect. Well, it’s not something you can force or command. It’s entirely physical.


For me, the “socket” was always there. The first time I learned about Prussia, I felt drawn. It was the only topic I really cared about in history class.


Now that my body is so much more open and receptive, I’d describe the feeling as “home”. The warm hearth.


Anything showing Prussian life lights my body up.


I also feel into every stereotype, insider, joke and caricature.


When I found the stereotype that Prussians are loud, I burst out laughing. That alone gave my throat so much more permission to speak. An entire populace that’s infamous for being assertive and opinionated? I’m holding that pole.


At this point, I’m completely unashamed of my ancestry. This doesn't mean the conditioning has vanished without a trace. It runs too deep for that to happen within months. Even as I write, that self-hating part whispers, "You can't say that!"


But here I am, saying it anyways.


“But X and Y happened!” I don’t care.


I’m unattached to whatever “education”, rescuing, or projections someone has here.


I’m here to fully back the energetics of the Prussian lineage in my body.


The movie “The Captain of Köpenick” feat. Heinz Rühmann is my new favourite. I mentioned his name earlier, but this movie with him I’d never seen as a kid. No wonder. I just checked its latest Free TV stream which was in 2015, and the previous few streams were all around noon or other inconvenient times for a kid who has to go to school.


That movie is based on a real story and gets so misinterpreted, I can’t not clear it up here.


The gist of it is that a thief managed to besiege the town hall of Köpenick and steal money by dressing as a military captain and ordering soldiers to do his bidding, without needing to show papers of his identity or other official documents.


Predictably, many people used this incident to point fingers at the danger posed by the authority of the Prussian military: Anyone can put on a uniform and be obeyed.


Well, no. That’s not why he managed to pull that off.


It’s because Prussian society was so high trust, high functionality, high inner safety, high self-responsibility, that no one ever would’ve expected a fellow Prussian to abuse the system.


That is a sign of a very healthy, flourishing society!


The thief was the first person to ever try abusing it like that!


Modern Western civilisation doesn’t come close to that kind of reciprocated trust in the government, police, or any higher institution really.


In fact, we’re so conditioned into paranoia and mistrust of each other, we can’t even hold discussions without someone claiming “I’m a victim!” anymore. And that loss of mutual cohesion is another pocket of grief in me.


Am I claiming that Prussia and Prussian society as a whole didn’t have misalignments? Of course not. On a spiritual and energetic level, there were misalignments so askew that the whole country called its own abolition upon itself.


I’ll dive deeper into this topic another time, so for now I’ll just say that the ‘Expansion vs Collapse’ cycle is a historic pattern in Prussian history.


That cycle is a symptom of low capacity nervous systems.


This is doubly interesting since Germany is now stuck in that same pattern, which tells me this pattern exists in the collective consciousness of the population.


That means this pattern lives inside most Germans and Prussians. If it didn't, we wouldn’t see its country-wide effects.


Which then means we have to individually find the ‘Expansion vs Collapse’ cycle in us, how it plays out in our lives, and then expand our capacity to hold sensation to eject ourselves from the loop.


Grass-Roots energetic law.


As you can see, this frequency is intensely revealing.


And to be fair, I do feel that life has shielded me from being exposed to this frequency too early, when I couldn’t have received it with such an open heart. Aside from not stumbling across any Prussia-related media growing up, I was also raised in the only Northern state that wasn’t a Prussian province, so there’s zero historic Prussian influence here. In Saxony and other ex-provinces, we still have Prussian residence castles etc.


We do have lots of locals who are resettled Prussians though. I’ve brought the topic up with people I see regularly, and to my surprise they all have/had Prussian grandparents.


We’re quite many!


So how come we lack all sense of unity?


Let me tell you another aspect of how I rejected German culture: learning lots of languages. English, French, Spanish, some Italian, Russian and Chinese, dabbling into Hungarian and Japanese. 


That’s where I found the aesthetic beauty I thought I missed in the German language. 


And I was aware of it, too!


Do I regret knowing different languages? No. It’s an enrichment to my life. It’s also a good example of how you can channel a low frequency (in this case, my apathy towards my native language) into a learning experience.


The underlying energetics of this invisible anti-German conditioning remain though. Because I wasn’t raised anti-patriotic or anti-German. Nationality just wasn’t a topic. And yet, I felt an intrinsic rejection of what society presented to me as “German”. 


Because, again, “German” is synthetic. The word frequency lacks soul connection. 


I want you to understand how automatic this self-rejection is. I wasn’t taught it. I grew up with it getting installed into my being without consent or choice. 


It’s a mind virus. 


Yes, the constant emphasis of WW2 and the guilt tripping plays a big role. But I wasn’t exposed to it more than anyone else. Besides, the youth isn’t responsible anyways. So by itself, it wouldn’t work to manipulate an entire country. 


A much bigger factor is the erasure of Prussia and Prussian culture from before 1914 (start WW1). 


This treasure trove of soul-expanding connection to our lineage has been locked and hidden away in the darkest cellar. Our sense of belonging. Our shared collective consciousness. 


And on top, they built this artificial house of mirrors without exit where you become your own enemy. You see no one else. You’re trapped. So of course you break the mirrors eventually and destroy yourself with a million cuts. 


Honestly, I can’t think of another folk this has been done to. It must be the most impactful, spiritual inversion that’s ever happened to an entire nation. 


Imagine abolishing the USA and splitting the land between Canada and Mexico like, “The USA and Americans don’t exist anymore!” and then conditioning the next generations of Americans that their national identity isn’t a thing and that America’s past has nothing to do with them. Now all Americans and their descendants are told they’re Canadian or Mexican, depending on where they fled. American history has nothing to do with their lives.


This is the twisting of love, joy and connection into shame, guilt and self-hatred, and then injecting those frequencies into an entire nation. 


What spiritual consequences does this have? 


Really ask yourself that. 


What’s the energetic cost of suppressing the ancestral truth of millions of people? 


Lies are costly. Manipulation is costly. Anything that’s not the truth has to have tremendous energy invested to keep itself alive until the dam eventually breaks. 


Truth has all the time in the world. Until one day, it slams forth and clears everything that’s untrue. 


That’s why I’m unconcerned. Sooner or later, the energy always brings equilibrium. 


I’m called to smooth the path though. Increase the speed a little and guide people through the process. To heal collective pain, it first must be made visible. Making the unconscious conscious.


And the light and radiance that stem from the reclamation of yourself?


It’s so good.


Indescribable.


That awes me so much about Prussian marches. They sound like festive jubilations. They’re confident and regal, and at the same time playful and shamelessly joyful. It’s music I can’t not dance to. The Helenenmarsch remains my personal favourite piece of music ever written.


There’s these statements about how modern music is tuned to discordant keys, and I can’t say I disagree. Modern music has always pulled on my mind and thoughts. Instead of letting the melody vibrate my cells, I created fantasy and daydreams.


It’s the opposite for Prussian marches. They go right into my blood and energise my body, not my mind.


And I want to immerse myself so much more. I’ll go in as deep as I possibly can and let myself have every drop of nourishment.


After 27 years of feeling like I don’t belong, I feel home.


I know I’m exactly when and where I need to be.

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