Lessons from the Almighty Mushroom

How many lessons I continue to come back with. Unresolved issues buried deep within the core manifesting in everyday life without us realizing. Or realizing…but putting it off until ‘later.’ How arrogant creatures we are to assume we have a later, tomorrow, next week, next month. Notice how often we execute this out of our senseless mouths. For me, these issues have been cutting ties with my mother. 
Narcissistic, BPD tormented soul. Beautiful, red-lipsticked devil in the flesh. Sucks you into her web, and poisons you with her words. Master Manipulator. When she loves, she loves fiercely. When challenged, she’ll devour you from the inside out. I could handle it, but when she interfered with my own child... I left. Throughout the following years, my doorstep has been and is greeted with food, packages, silent gestures. All I wanted was a sincere apology. 
I don’t care about the times she burned my hands with a knife held over the flame, blistered to the point I couldn't close my palms, or missing school because of black eyes from a shoe thrown at a wrong angle. I don’t care about all the beatings. I don't care being called a ‘useless piece of shit’ or announcing how much she regrets having birthed me. I know deep down it wasn't me she was angry with. Something deeper hurt, I just happened to be around. A child’s love is truly unconditional. 
Traumas from her own childhood have manifested into paranoia. Branded into her soul, much like a burn's scar is ingrained into the flesh. Any man, an instant threat: possible pedophile, rapist, hustler, liar, cheater, alcoholic. I don't think she ever had a positive male role model. Beautiful she was. Is. Raped multiple times by uncles, cousins, mother’s boyfriends. I can understand why there is no trust. A pattern I would eventually discover with crazy accusations of our male relatives and my own child’s father. Denial is one thing; making accusatory claims, another. 
Fast forward to years later, I never confronted her for these inflammatory accusations. All it would do was corner her into denial. She’d warp words, manipulate it to play victim. So I left. As time would progress, the anger dissolved into sadness for her. Humbly asking my Mushroom Master, ‘how do I handle this sadness?’ Mushroom responds, 'Forgive.’ 
It’s easy to remain angry than to forgive someone, isn’t?  Hold on to how we’ve been done wrong. Every day we encounter individuals who challenge our views, and if someone isn’t in agreement, or there's a misunderstanding, how often does that escalate to frustration? Easier to see the malice in someone for some of us, than it is to see an injured soul. Children yet are teachers in the way of forgiveness.
I never acknowledged the sacrifices she made for me. How much she worked always ensuring we had a clean, stable home. I never thanked her for the “Mommy’s Dearest” wardrobe she’d have me in when we pranced around town. To this day, I remember how proud she was for having us so dolled up. I pouted. But looking back, what did she have to do to garb my sister and me up? The dance classes, the recitals, the costumes? This was the only control she had, perhaps? Single mom-she never had a consistent support system, but she managed. She lashed out, the punishments were harsh-yet my anger has liquified into a bittersweet sadness over the years, because deep down I know...I know she tried. She loved me, she loved my sister: the only way she knew how. 
So recently I was wondering why I’ve been relapsing to nervous eating, facing contams again, and cluttered purging. The night Las Vegas shut down, I came home from work to a package of food. Food I couldn't acquire after my shift ended. Synchronicity. The Universe constantly speaking to us. Showing us signs. 
Just as we expect superior mycelium growth, the success of one or 100 pins surfacing, the care that goes into cultivation. Isn't that the same care we should be giving our own souls, our minds, bodies, others? We don't want contam in our jars, the dishes, in our casing. We rack our heads looking for best cheat methods to make our grows as pristine as possible. But how many of us, dive inwards…really inwards, right into our demons' mouths? 
I announce forgiveness, but does it hold any value, if I haven’t vocalized it to the person who hurt me, who hurt my daughter? Was she the only one doing the hurting? So I sent her a loving letter, without confrontations and boundaries established.
As every passing second, each heartbeat, every breath breathed…time dissolves. These moments have become part of the past. Honor the past. Being absolutely present, holding a high standard in everything we believe in, do, and say. Ensuring our hearts, souls, bodies are as untarnished as we expect our mycelium to be: Stable, growing, and divine. Becoming parents to the future. 
I thank my mother for all of it. She would be my first lesson of how adverse life could be. Just as she helped shape me, life experiences would help mold me, time consistently evolving me into more growth. Honor your past, honor your mistakes. Each moment that passes will be a test of how you respond.