🍄 The Mushroom Remembers
- Geri Watson
- Jan 9
- 2 min read

Grief doesn’t always speak loudly.
Sometimes it grows underground; slow, quiet, unseen.
Sometimes it lives in the body like mycelium, stretching across time and memory, connecting moments we thought were lost.
This is the wisdom of the mushroom.
This is the truth of grief.
🌙 Grief as Mycelium
Mushrooms are the fruiting bodies of something much larger; the mycelial network beneath the soil.
Grief is the same.
What we see:
Tears
Silence
Ritual
Memory
Longing
What we don’t see:
The way grief reshapes our nervous system
The way it connects us to others who mourn
The way it teaches us to listen differently
The way it grows beneath the surface, even when we feel numb
The mushroom remembers what the world forgets.
So does the grieving heart.
🍂 The Mushroom as Witness
Mushrooms grow in places of decay. They turn death into nourishment. They rise from fallen logs, from damp soil, from the places we’d rather not look.
They do not fear the dark. They do not rush the process. They do not apologize for growing slowly.
In this way, mushrooms are grief’s companions; reminding us that transformation is possible, even in the places that feel broken.
🕯️ A Ritual of Remembrance
If you are grieving; whether your loss is fresh or decades old; here is a gentle ritual inspired by the mushroom’s wisdom:
1. Find a quiet space outdoors or near a window.
Let the earth be part of your remembering.
2. Hold a mushroom — real, symbolic, drawn, or imagined.
Let it represent the grief that lives beneath the surface.
3. Speak one truth aloud.
It might be:
“I miss you.”
“I carry you.”
“This grief is still growing.”
“You are remembered.”
4. Place the mushroom on your altar, in the soil, or beside a candle.
Let it be a witness.
5. Close with a breath of gratitude.
For the love that made the grief possible. For the body that still carries it. For the mushroom that remembers.
🌌 Why This Symbol Matters
In a world that often rushes grief, the mushroom offers a different pace; a reminder that healing is slow, sacred, and often invisible.
It teaches us:
To honor what grows in the dark
To trust the unseen connections
To let memory be a form of nourishment
To believe that even in sorrow, something beautiful can rise
The mushroom remembers what we’re afraid to forget.
It holds the stories we thought were buried.
It reminds us that grief is not a failure; it is a form of love.
🕯️ You Don’t Have to Grieve Alone
At Orion’s Legacy Editing, I believe in honoring the quiet grief; the kind that grows slowly, the kind that lives in the body, the kind that transforms us over time.
Whether you’re creating ritual, writing your story, or simply trying to understand what your grief is teaching you, I’m here to walk with you.
Your grief matters.
Your remembering matters.
Your story deserves space.



Comments