Ancient Parasites & the Guardians of the Unconscious (Dave Oshana guest post)

Who wants to be out of their mind? If you value your identity, you will stay away from Dave Oshana.

Sadly, it is too late for me. I gave my finger and the enlightenment transmission is now taking my whole identity and more, my ancestry too. In the famous last words of a Roman emperor, “Vae, puto deus fio.”[1]

Not that I haven’t tried to escape. I have struggled mightily, and Dave has done all he can to help me slip away: he has been impossible, maddening, relentless, exhausting, irascible, the worst friend my identity ever had.

Don’t be fooled by all these blogposts and podcasts, I don’t recommend this. If you can avoid it, do so with your life. If not, don’t blame me. You have been warned.

My aim in handling the plutonium of this guest post by Dave Oshana (a compilation of five of his recent mini-online-articles) is to distribute it more strategically, while cleaning it up to both maximize its impact and minimize the dangers of premature exposure (if it’s even possible to do both things at once).

Ergo, my contribution here has been more about altering the medium of delivery to render the package more resonant with you, the reader. The revisions I have made are slight, but possibly enough for the auti-cultured to suspend their resistance or confusion in the face of this foreign substance.

Any additional commentary on my part I feel would only delay the delivery, possibly be forced, and even if not, appear contrived. If it is time to remove the kid gloves, the undiluted Dave is what you get, albeit passed on by someone whose hand you have hitherto been happy to shake.

That too may have been rash of you, for I too am not your identity’s friend. Nor necessarily that of your ancestors. Time will tell.

The rest of what follows is pure, unground Dave Oshana.

Thesis statement: The karmic responsibility of unpaid ancestral accounts just got dumped in your hands, activating your sleeper agency. 

Several thousand years ago, your ancestors got sucked into a psychosomatic vortex whose centuries-fugal action now seeks to whitewash Hell whilst thoroughly distributing disinherited fragmented entities of psychic disintegration to every level of human existence by installing GOTU (Guardians of The Unconscious), glorified gatekeepers to self-regenerating toxic mind-fields of crazy-making false selves. The degenerate are regenerating.

It is time, brave gentle folk, to enter the unprocessed wastelands.

Identity Virus

For thousands of years, the Identity has self-replicated like a computational virus, ensuring that every human being will be made in its image. Passing along all of its faults, insecurities and irrational fears, and mimicking the Ancestors, the Identity seeks complete control over everything that lives, breathes, or moves, or even anything presumed to exist.

Ages ago, imperceptible forces created a symbiotic live-in arrangement within embodied human consciousness which screwed up communication and relatedness within the self, and between others and Nature. We now have no choice but to deal with it.

Ancient Parasites of Human Ancestral Consciousness

The problem with this viral infiltration is that it is completely invisible: unless you know how to open your inner senses.

These forces, or more simply “things,” attach to and drain our life force and the situational flows between Consciousness and the body. They breed in the ancestral pool, then hitchhike like ticks from person to person, infecting the host with effluent, causing confusing sensations, brain fog and ultimately a living death. In this zombified state of reduced awareness, energy and ability, beingness and relationship disintegrates.

Unfortunately, the resultant cognitive/behavioural symptoms cannot be resolved by talking therapy because the causes are neither language- nor event-based. By contrast, the transportation of these unsupportive energies has no visible physical form.

Eerily, they could be compared to hungry ghosts, entities, vampires, succubi and flyers. This should not be over-thought, but simply “felt.” This contagion now maintains our current ancestral malaise.

To give a computational metaphor, these infections happen in an undocumented software layer of our make-up. This makes them difficult to identify, especially since the virus blinds the host. Out of sight, in this case, is not out of mind, only shielded from conscious perception and thereby enabling hidden backdoors into the mind’s dreamscape.

For this reason, in an attempt to enter and “see,” the current generation is taking psychedelic trips, not realizing that they may only be feeding the parasite.

Why I Will Be Washing Your Ancestors’ Dirty Undies Before Sunday

It’s such a dirty job that no one has been doing it—until now.

After last Saturday’s ‘Ancestral Pre-Wash: Ancestral Cleaning Blessing,’ which intensely focused on anonymised personal and group ancestral connection, I thought that participants would not require the same services for a while. To be honest, I was relieved because ancestral clearing is exhausting, unpredictable work. Literally anything could come up, and frequently does. But lo and behold, after Sunday’s ‘A Game of Identities,’ which was just as intense but focused more upon cognitive content than  ancestral connection, there was a feeling that something that could be addressed, wasn’t.

Hence, by Monday morning, I found myself in a Mexican stand-off with a gaggle of who-knows-whose ancestors, wondering why their ancestral laundry was still unwashed. This is why I frequently say that I don’t like this aspect of my vocation. Laundry is either clean or not. There is no room for spotty or patchy work. No one is content with half-washed, even if it is a huge improvement. They only see the dirt.

I get it, I have high standards too, higher even than the ancestors.  Ironically, the ancestors are the problem, and it’s impossible to get all the laundry clean unless the entire clan cooperates. And when does that ever happen? Never, ever, in human history. Because who admits to wearing dirty undies? As I thought, no one.

If families cooperated, then this work would be completed quickly. But lack of cooperation is part of the sticky problem that is repeated every generation. What comes around keeps going around, just like the proverbial COVID-19. The only thing not going around now is a fully locked and loaded soapy wash.

Despite, these issues, it is gratifying and fulfilling to actually negotiate with the ancestors rather than listen to their badgering bluster, and to come to an understanding without involving descendant egos. That of course means that you are the last to know and have to sit outside whilst the adults talk.

Even so, participants thankfully are prepared to show up and give time to this process. It is, after all, for them and their family’s descendants. In reality, the participants have to go this course, otherwise there would be no freedom from the blathering ancestors who drown out the better ancestors.

The Identity vs. the Ancestors

This war has been waged unseen for thousands of years.  The take-over is almost complete.

The Ancestors are like a hairy goat. They rule over the body, especially the emotions, passions, and hormones. They care mainly about mating, rutting and digesting. The Ancestors consider themselves very personable, a “let it all hang out,” in-your-face kind of personal.

By way of contrast, the Identity, having no empathy for the goat’s slavish compulsions to fill and empty its organs, disgusted by bodily fluids and hair, can be likened to a frustratingly impossible customer service chat bot that fakes niceness in order to control the customer with dumbness.

The Identity does not understand love, but knowing that love is extremely valuable, seeks to acquire all the love in the world by any means necessary. The emotionally volatile ancestral influences disturb the Identity’s fake acts of kindness, rationality and humanity.

In a bid not to lose face, the Identity seeks to rout and punish the ancestral influences, chasing them deep into the nervous system, and suppressing them at source by shutting down unrestricted expression and unbounded perceptions.

After such a millennia-long lockdown, nothing authentic comes through the body, everything is fake, vague, scripted, and as safe as possible. But not safe enough. The Identity, being neither alive nor dead, existing only within the mind and continually afraid of being wiped out, becomes obsessed with its survival and focuses upon the impossible goal of immortality (impossible for mortals).

The Identity’s lust for power is insatiable and, so far, unstoppable. The Ancestors never saw this coming (no one ever sees the Identity coming). The hairy goat and all its passions got subsumed by something it could never have imagined. They haven’t even noticed that the Identity has been running things for a very long time.

Ancestral Energy Transactions

Every human interaction is an ancestral energy transaction. All hell breaks loose when the ancestors don’t get what they want, and hell is contained when they do get what they want. There is always a hidden agenda, a payoff, an “ask,” a “get.” Sabotage, interruption, appearance, jealousy and dishonesty are just some of the means they employ. Typically selfish, often insatiable, left unchecked they will destroy us all.

Identities are “cut-outs,” cover-ups, fake narratives creating plausible deniability. Whilst preoccupied with the Game of Identities we never see the real game:  the Game of Ancestors. Both games control, restrict, and ruin us.

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. The ancestral patterns cross-pollinate to ensure their perpetuity. Rotten at the core, the rot eats away at the tree from the inside out, only showing up after many years, on the surface, in various forms. For humanity, it is almost too late to be restored. This is the age of bad apples. A devastating harvest ensues. Time is running out.

A participant wondered recently if my stated wish to save humanity was a joke. It’s neither a joke nor naive wishful thinking. You want to do the right thing, but you are confused. And yet simultaneously, somewhere inside, you know that, in good conscience, you cannot ignore this. Something obstructs your clarity, fearing that knowing the truth will upset the status quo, not understanding that healing would be the actual result.

All the while, something relentlessly bugs you, demanding resolution.

An Enlightenment Transmission group is a representative melting pot of assembled tribes and clans. The ancestral patterns show up at the tectonic edge where souls meet.

To taste life on that edge, and take the hairy goat by the horns, join the upcoming events or request replays of ‘The Real Heal: Ancestral Negotiations’ (this Saturday the 21st) and ‘A Game of Ancestors’ (Sunday the 22nd).

As well as this opportunity, there is a free Dave event the following week, on Sat 28th that is open to all. Sign up here.


[1] “Woe is me, I fear I am becoming God.”

17 thoughts on “Ancient Parasites & the Guardians of the Unconscious (Dave Oshana guest post)”

  1. This is interesting. Last night, I wondered if every emotion we feel is a choice. For instance, watching a football game, we choose what emotions we will feel simply by identifying with one team or the other. The exact same event will bring out opposite emotions depending on your choice of identification. I am starting to feel every emotion we experience is based on past choices of identification. For me, I seem to identify with rejection, thus every interaction I have, the emotions I feel are decided by my choice to identify with rejection. The initial fear before the interaction even starts, the quick anger and flight mode as soon as events don’t go as hoped, and even the distrust and suspicion when interactions turn out “good”. This rejection identity also leads to feelings of inadequacy and lack of confidence, in feelings of despair and further identification with the lone wolf or rebel. The quick mockery of others as a way to overcome these emotions. The constant need to prove myself in the eyes of others.
    A little more personal than intended, but I think I am on to something.


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