Dreamspace: Mushrooms
Tuesday, November 3, 2009 by the BCth
(I've never tried any hallucinogens, and I don't feel the need to do so, although I am OK with people using them as a shortcut [and only as a shortcut] to experiences and states of mind that might otherwise require lifetimes of work to attain.)
I dreamed about mushrooms last night. As far as I know, they weren't entheogenic mushrooms, just the regular, edible kind.
I was walking through a spruce forest. It was shady and the ground was covered in brown needles. There was hardly any green to be found. A rather dead place. I had a woven basket, and I was wandering around, looking for mushrooms. For some strange reason, the bottom of the basket was covered in little rocks. It's like I wanted to feel some kind of weight in there, even if it wasn't the thing I was after. All I had found so far was one little piece of a mushroom, just enough to prove that there were mushrooms to be found. After much fruitless wandering, I was feeling quite discouraged.
A couple of elderly women passed by, dressed in white, carrying white baskets that appeared to be quite full of mushrooms. They looked with amusement at my basket of rocks. They didn't speak with their mouths, but I caught the impression of a thoughtform:
"Those rocks'll make a tasty soup, I'm sure! (laughter) Good luck, boy. Keep looking!"
Somehow, I knew in my heart that I had to keep searching and not give up. So I kept on, guided by this inner knowing that it would all be worth it in the end. And sure enough, I finally found a whole cache of mushrooms as big as my hand, already sliced and stacked in neat piles. As soon as I saw it, I remembered: I picked these myself earlier!
There were more mushrooms than I could even fit into my basket!
So I dumped out the stupid rocks and started to fill my basket with precious, delicious mushrooms... the treasure and the true, spiritual food of angels!
I dreamed about mushrooms last night. As far as I know, they weren't entheogenic mushrooms, just the regular, edible kind.
I was walking through a spruce forest. It was shady and the ground was covered in brown needles. There was hardly any green to be found. A rather dead place. I had a woven basket, and I was wandering around, looking for mushrooms. For some strange reason, the bottom of the basket was covered in little rocks. It's like I wanted to feel some kind of weight in there, even if it wasn't the thing I was after. All I had found so far was one little piece of a mushroom, just enough to prove that there were mushrooms to be found. After much fruitless wandering, I was feeling quite discouraged.
A couple of elderly women passed by, dressed in white, carrying white baskets that appeared to be quite full of mushrooms. They looked with amusement at my basket of rocks. They didn't speak with their mouths, but I caught the impression of a thoughtform:
"Those rocks'll make a tasty soup, I'm sure! (laughter) Good luck, boy. Keep looking!"
Somehow, I knew in my heart that I had to keep searching and not give up. So I kept on, guided by this inner knowing that it would all be worth it in the end. And sure enough, I finally found a whole cache of mushrooms as big as my hand, already sliced and stacked in neat piles. As soon as I saw it, I remembered: I picked these myself earlier!
There were more mushrooms than I could even fit into my basket!
So I dumped out the stupid rocks and started to fill my basket with precious, delicious mushrooms... the treasure and the true, spiritual food of angels!
