MUSHROOM m i n d

By Steph Raymond All Rights Reserved ©

Other / Poetry

g r o w t h

The season of

g r o w t h

is always upon us,

even in winter.

Nature has a way of revealing what is hidden,

or simply blind to the unconscious eye.

I walked up to the largest Oak tree in the forest, touched its trunk and looked up.

There I saw the overlapping leaves and kaleidoscopic

s u n b e a m s

shining through them.

I understand now,

the truth was here all along.

Here I do not feel hate for those who have wronged me.

Here I am not anxious in my body,

Here I am not alone.

My sickness has a way of bringing my wounds to

l i g h t

to then press on them until they bleed out-

Crippling me in my thoughts,

changing me from a euphoric woman to a scared child.

I would think about when I reached out to my mother after trying to end my life...

how I tried desperately to grasp the hand of my mother

but instead gripped uselessly at the

a i r .

I had turned myself into an abandoned child in my head

but here...

Here I can see that I am not my mother’s daughter,

but her sister.

We are children of the universe

both wounded by the cruelties of the unconscious human spirit,

both grieving for the cancer that is now invading my brother,

both scared of the uncertainties of life.

I realized that I could no longer blame the others around me

for being frightened too...

for not knowing where to find truth

and how to apply it.

Nature’s powerful essence brought forth

the simple answers we seek

to life’s complicated questions.

Life is both for learning and unlearning;

reclaiming our true selves means to reclaim our lower minds and higher mind

and then to redeem them.

We must first be

a w a r e

and come to accept the darkness

in ourselves before we can use light to

t r a n s f o r m


This is perhaps my greatest challenge.

I closed my eyes to feel all the ways that I have been hurt,

and all the ways I had projected that hurt onto the people around me,

as the others had done to myself.

The cycle of pain spinning around in my head like a broken carousel.

But this time the thoughts did not lead me to panic with

self-loathing and isolation.

Instead they led to something more powerful than the legion of demons that haunted her psyche.

F o r g i v e n e s s .

Forgiveness for the projected complexes of others,

but most importantly forgiveness for myself.

For taking so long to understand,

for punishing the skin that cocoons me,

and punishing the people I love for not understanding me.

For not seeing me.

Struggle would certainly not end here, it was laughable to think such a thing at any age.

But this beautiful moment of

c l a r i t y

had taken root in me and I am different now.

I now have the courage to know myself,

In light and darkness

the courage to love myself there-

the courage to live my life as authentically as I can.

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