The magic of mushrooms
Updated: Sep 2
I have been overdosing on a book lately.
It’s been telling me how it’s okay to feel it all. Every easy, every hard, and every confusing feeling. For feelings are to feel completely. All of them.
I’ve always done that anyway but reading and re-reading this book makes me believe in its power. I’ve cursed myself for being such an emotional energy sponge and while it’s unreal how disempowering it can be, it also allows me to live my most authentic and true story. I’m often told how being strong is one of my greatest qualities but it comes after hours, days, weeks of feeling it all and not squirming for an instant resolution when it starts building up.
Last week, I dived a little deeper within, into the darkest corners of my body and soul, with the help of a compound that is found abundantly in nature. After two years of changes surrounding my family, career, cities and my dog dying, I didn’t know what I’ll tap into. So, as always, I went into it, without any expectations but with all the knowledge I’d attained after reading up some hundred research papers, watching documentaries and wholeheartedly validating what I was going to get into. I wanted to clear up space for any panic that’ll come my way and be fearless of the unknown. Sure enough, half an hour is all it took to rummage through my insides and say hello to my inner child. I couldn’t see her, I couldn’t touch her but I became her. I could feel her energy, curiosity, fearlessness and laugh. During those few hours of being under the most natural spell, that I had the crazy privilege of accessing, I was able to navigate parts of me I had unknowingly shut behind iron doors. And yet, there I was, under a blanket, alive with eyes open wide, in the darkness. Child like, naive, and pure. Honest, safe and free. I didn’t want it to end. The road took me down to the Shrine of realisations, and then the Book Society of my imagination. But my favourite was, when we were able to off road to a lush valley to find my Museum of memories. I saw my mom, she had this beautiful smile she doesn’t remember. And I saw myself as a one year old, with a mushroom hair cut, light brown hair and big bulbous eyes; I was on my father’s shoulders. I could hear us giggle and feel that joyous moment pierce my heart open with so much light. It didn’t matter what our relationship was now, but in that moment, on his shoulders, is where I was the happiest. I also looked for my deceased dog in places but couldn’t find him anywhere- his soul had fulfilled its purpose and was truly gone. And lastly, I could see the inner child of the love of my life. We were both under that blanket, exploring different parts of ourselves, pulling out tangents from the revolving circle of our being. I’d step out again and again to explore my insides and come back to him each time. He was my touch tree. I couldn’t see him but I could feel him. His inner child was mine to protect. For a moment, I felt as if we’d known each other not for two years but since forever. He’s my twin flame; I’ve never loved like this.
Hours passed and something inside me told me it was going to end soon. I began to sense chills down my spine as it felt unreal to get back to my present self, to my reality. I was suddenly feeling the pressure of my insecurities and sadness, the baggage my physical self carries in her daily life. That was the bridge I was waiting for. The bridge between my inner child and my present self. The bridge between innocence and self sabotage. The bridge that I had to eventually cross because the psilocybin was going to wear off. I got up to go for a long walk. I didn’t know where I was going to go but I needed to get out of that cottage. It was a cold night so I wore a warm shacket and put on my boots. And left. It wasn’t as dark as it was under the blanket, the moon was guiding me somewhere. The leaves were dewy, some were illuminating in moon light, the wind was playing with the trees and adding music to my soulful climax. Upon walking for a few hundred meters, a wider path opened up with a fallen tree as its only decor. I got closer and then looked up. It was a full moon night; I could feel divine feminine energy swirling all around me and encapsulating me with warmth. And then I sat. A tear rolled down my right cheek and I could hear the words flow out of my mouth. I was muttering a promise to the moon. A promise that I will stop dishonouring my inner child by living with insecurities and sadness. I will protect her, live for her and always consider her before taking any action. I sat with the moon as it played hide and seek. I sat, knowing it was almost the end and made peace with it. My beau had followed me into the forest and now sat beside me, staring at the moon, living his own story. We then held hands and walked ahead only to realise that we can’t cross over. And, as I turned around, I saw an ox tied to a rope, waiting to fall asleep. She was white and majestic with her blue painted horns. I went closer, gained her trust and gave her a massage. Her eyes gleamed in the light she was unintentionally borrowing from the moon. I was born an empath and she knew it. Hell, I was getting to know it.
Moments later, we’d walked a little more and reached the edge of a tea estate. I was no longer feeling cold. My body was producing heat like never before. I put my shacket on my partner and we talked some more. Suddenly, as I acknowledged how everything comes to an end one day, it was gone. I was back to my present, to my self and to the moment. The fear of the unknown was gone. I was going to explore each moment like my inner child.
That’s when I knew, life’s not about doing it right or wrong. It’s about acknowledging it’s never going to be easy.
Just try and float through it all.