In a world intoxicated by expansion, productivity, and visible success, we've forgotten the art of closing. Not just ending. but closing consciously, with presence and grace. In this impermanent, ever-mutating world, it is not permanence that guarantees life, it is the willingness to surrender to the cycle itself.
The fungi kingdom knows this well. It has always known. Living in the liminal, between life and death, form and formlessness—the fungi do not resist the decomposing phase. They embody it. They thrive in it. Not as an end, but as a beginning in disguise. They are the ancient alchemists of the forest floor, transmuting decay into nourishment, endings into foundations.
And yet we barely speak of them.
Our language reflects our hierarchy: flora and fauna, as if the fungi were a ghost in the biological narrative. An invisible intelligence working quietly in the dark, holding the threads of renewal while the rest of us run toward the light, forgetting that true illumination is also found in shadow. The mycelium teaches us another way. A way not based in hierarchy or dominance, but in networked coherence. Hypha by hypha, they weave together a web that is not linear, not competitive, but deeply relational. A mutual support system, in which intelligence is shared, not hoarded. In the decomposing phase, nothing is wasted. Everything is listened to. The fungi ask: What is still useful? What must go? What must return to the earth so something else may live?
They do not fear death. They metabolize it.
And isn't that the deepest human fear? That if we stop creating, expanding, producing, we will disappear? That we will not matter if we are not becoming something grander?
But the fungi remind us that the deepest form of becoming is being with. Being with the dying, the decaying, the closing. Being with the silence after the exhale. Being with the compost before the sprout. Being with the parts of ourselves that are no longer aligned, and learning to release them with dignity, not urgency.
We must remember how to close.
To close relationships, chapters, projects, identities, not with shame or failure, but with reverence. To compost the stories we no longer need. To honor what has served its purpose. To integrate its wisdom. To become, like the fungi, part of a greater intelligence, one that feeds the future, even as it dissolves the past.
Because permanence is not about holding on. It is about knowing how to let go, wisely. This lesson arrived in my own life wrapped in paradox.
I am Sagittarius: the dreamer, the seeker, the one always looking toward the horizon. Ruled by Jupiter, my chart is laced with the desire to expand, to grow, to imagine bigger, brighter, wilder realities. For so long, I believed my optimism was only alive when directed outward, toward creation, toward motion, toward more.
But the fungi humbled me.
They didn't ask me to dream less. They asked me to root deeper. To stop running from the silence that follows completion. To stop avoiding the sacred quiet of closure.
They taught me to recognize the low frequency of endless expansion, a fantasy loop disguised as growth. And they invited me instead into a truer optimism: one that celebrates not just birth, but compost. Not just creation, but transmutation.
Now, I honor the adventure of endings too. The grace of letting go. The joy of making space.
This is the deeper wisdom of living.
And it was never mine alone to find
It was always ours.
Embodied Teachings
If this reflection speaks to you and you feel the invitation to not just read, but live, this process, you're welcome to go deeper. This entry has an accompanying downloadable PDF that guides you through an embodied integration process rooted in astrology, elemental journaling, aromatherapy, and guided meditation.
Inside the PDF, you may find:
- A prompt to locate where this cycle is active in your birth chart
- Journal reflections through the four elements (Earth, Water, Fire, Air)
- A personalized essential oil synergy to support each stage
- A downloadable audio meditation to integrate the theme somatically
This is a ritual space for those ready to anchor the soul's movements into matter. If you feel called, you can access the full entry and guided practice through the membership.
