in our arrogance, we have claimed lordship over the natural world—we have let the talons of profit claw at our sacred mother and our duty to defend the forces that give us life…but the earth remembers—and our mother speaks…she speaks through the trees and gives voice to the dreams of our ancestors—she writhes erotically in deeply subterranean caverns of pleasure and ecstasy…we have seen forests as resources to conquer—we clearcut and frack and strip-mine…we destroy whole mountaintops in search of the last vestiges of our mother’s capacity to supply us with fossil fuels…yet western science is now confirming a picture of the arboreal subterranean that our indigenous elders have long understood…everything is connected and all the pieces matter—underground fungal highways connect the roots of trees in proximity enabling elder trees to nurture the young…the roots trade nutrients and sustenance for the sacred gift of consciousness and communication…the magic of fungi is spiritual, tantric, and expansive—capable of giving a casual consumer of psylocybin or an entire forest of interwoven trees the psychedelic trip of a lifetime…what if, for a change, we chose to learn from the trees?  what if we cultivated our own magical subterranean and treated the laws of ecology as sacrosanct—revered as a potent antidote to the toxic logic of profit?  mother earth is still holding on—dilating the present moment and trying to give us time and space to get our act together in pursuit of universal liberation…this is my ecology—and it gestates deep inside preparing psychedelic spores to empower our shamanic minds to connect, engage, and transform

visual art by Favianna Rodriguez: @favianna or



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