Mushroom Wisdom Quotes

A bay is a noun only if water is dead. When bay is a noun, it is defined by humans, trapped between its shores and contained by the word. But the verb wiikwegamaa—to be a bay—releases the water from bondage and lets it live. “To be a bay” holds the wonder that, for this moment, the living water has decided to shelter itself between these shores, conversing with cedar roots and a flock of baby mergansers. Because it could do otherwise—become a stream or an ocean or a waterfall, and there are verbs for that, too. To be a hill, to be a sandy beach, to be a Saturday, all are possible verbs in a world where everything is alive. Water, land, and even a day, the language a mirror for seeing the animacy of the world, the life that pulses through all things, through pines and nuthatches and mushrooms. This is the language I hear in the woods; this is the language that lets us speak of what wells up all around us.[…] This is the grammar of animacy.

Puhpowee, she explained, translates as “the force which causes mushrooms to push up from the earth overnight.” As a biologist, I was stunned that such a word existed. The makers of this word understood a world of being, full of unseen energies that animate everything. I’ve cherished it for many years, as a talisman, and longed for the people who gave a name to the life force of mushrooms. The language that holds Puhpowee is one that I wanted to speak. So when I learned that the word for rising, for emergence, belonged to the language of my ancestors, it became a signpost for me.

The Aztec word for the psilocybin mushroom was teonanacatl, which means literally "god's flesh"; when it was eaten in religious ceremonies, it gave many the experience of a direct encounter with God.

In fact, I learned that the mystical word Puhpowee is used not only for mushrooms, but also for certain other shafts that rise mysteriously in the night.

The mushroom is the visible tip of something deep and elaborate, like a thick lace tablecloth knitted into the forest floor.

Supporting a dictator is no different than eating a poisonous mushroom!

● Cabbage ● Cactus (nopal) ● Cauliflower ● Celery ● Chayote squash ● Cucumber ● Eggplant ● Garlic ●     Greens: beet, collard, dandelion, mustard, spinach, kale, chard, turnip greens, spinach, watercress, bok choy, arugula, etc. ● Tomatillo ● Tomato ● Green beans ● Kohlrabi ● Leek ● Lettuce: endive, escarole, iceberg, romaine, “baby” greens, etc. ● Mushroom ● Okra ● Onion (all types)

Puhpowee, she explained, translates as “the force which causes mushrooms to push up from the earth overnight.

I learned that the mystical word Puhpowee is used not only for mushrooms, but also for certain other shafts that rise mysteriously in the night.

To be a hill, to be a sandy beach, to be a Saturday, all are possible verbs in a world where everything is alive. Water, land, and even a day, the language a mirror for seeing the animacy of the world, the life that pulses through all things, through pines and nuthatches and mushrooms. This is the language I hear in the woods; this is the language that lets us speak of what wells up all around us.

books are safety and escape and wisdom and peace and the things that get you through. Whether they are showing you the best way to prepare mushroom soup, or breaking your heart with someone else’s loss so you can better bear your own, or making you laugh when there is nothing funny in your life, or making you afraid so that real life seems less fearful.

A few individuals sensitive to these changes questioned the ability of markets and private property to erase these social problems, leading to Socialism, a new school of thought. With socialism as the leitmotif, many ideas mushroomed in response to largescale human misery. Socialism soon

Oh, don’t be afraid of being a skeptic, Patrick,” Elsie said. “It’s the duty of each generation to examine the ‘wisdom’ passed on by the previous generation. We’d

Los Angeles—the dream-making capital of the world—serves as the backdrop for a number of the stories I recount. Some readers who cut their teeth in the urban centers of Europe or on the East Coast of America may prefer to dismiss what happens in Los Angeles as from a place apart, the aberrations of a migrant’s city within a migrant land. Such sentiments are understandable. Awash in the solar energy of a subtropical paradise, Los Angelinos engage life in the moment. The pace is fast, the music loud, and money is on display. Part of me, too, would prefer to dismiss such an existence as a mythmaker’s parody. But the place is real. In its immediacy and in its magnification of the familiar, Los Angeles creates its own reality and in so doing offers a “fast-forward” simulation of our collective future as a migrant culture. As Americans we must now decide whether such a future is of our choice, and whether it is sustainable. In the pages that follow, it is my goal to help inform that choice. Will we learn as a people to constructively channel the opportunities and individual enticements of the Fast New World toward an equitable social order, as Adam Smith had envisioned, or will the material demand for economic growth continue to erode the microcultures and intimate social bonds that are the hallmark of our humanity and the keys to health and personal happiness? Have the goals of America’s original social experiment been hijacked by its commercial success, threatening the delicate dance between individual desire and social responsibility, or will the nation in its migrant wisdom effectively apply its market and military dominance to remain a “beacon of hope,” enhancing the well-being of all the world’s peoples? This is a critical time in America, a time for careful thought and diligent action, for we have discovered in our commercial success that in an open society the real enemy is the self-interest that begins with a healthy appetite for life and mushrooms into manic excess during affluent times. Americans are again in the vanguard of human experience, and the world is watching. It is again a time for choosing.

The human omnivore has, in addition to his senses and memory, the incalculable advantage of a culture, which stores the experience and accumulated wisdom of countless human tasters before him. I don't need to experiment with the mushroom now called, rather helpfully, the "death cap," and it is common knowledge that that first intrepid lobster eater was on to something very good. Our culture codifies the rules of wise eating in an elaborate structure of taboos, rituals, recipes, manners, and culinary traditions that keep us from having to reenact the omnivore's dilemma at every meal. One way to think about America's national eating disorder is as the return, with an almost atavistic vengeance, of the omnivore's dilemma. The cornucopia of the American supermarket has thrown us back on a bewildering food landscape where we once again have to worry that some of those tasty-looking morsels might kill us. (Perhaps not as quickly as a poisonous mushroom, but just as surely.) Certainly the extraordinary abundance of food in America complicates the whole problem of choice. At the same time, many of the tools with which people historically managed the omnivore's dilemma have lost their sharpness here—or simply failed. As a relatively new nation drawn from many different immigrant populations, each with its own culture of food, Americans have never had a single, strong, stable culinary tradition to guide us. The lack of a steadying culture of food leaves us especially vulnerable to the blandishments of the food scientist and the marketer, for whom the omnivore's dilemma is not so much a dilemma as an opportunity. It is very much in the interest of the food industry to exacerbate our anxieties about what to eat, the better to then assuage them with new products.

Wisdom comes out of the wilderness, they say.” “Only the wisdom that people want. And mushrooms.

Puhpowee, she explained, translates as “the force which causes mushrooms to push up from the earth overnight.” As a biologist, I was stunned that such a word existed. In all its technical vocabulary, Western science has no such term, no words to hold this mystery. You’d think that biologists, of all people, would have words for life. But in scientific language our terminology is used to define the boundaries of our knowing. What lies beyond our grasp remains unnamed.

Some people might spot a premature palm tree and feel the urge to tap it. However, it's essential to be cautious, as not only will the premature palm tree not yield palm wine, but its premature decay won't even give rise to mushrooms. It's important to understand that everyone has their own unique maturation period.

You know that books are safety and escape and wisdom and peace and the things that get you through. Whether they are showing you the best way to prepare mushroom soup, or breaking your heart with someone else’s loss so you can better bear your own, or making you laugh when there is nothing funny in your life, or making you afraid so that real life seems less fearful. You understand.

Jean’s resplendent tree wasn’t shaking like mine; either Jean was more courageous than I was—of which I had little doubt—or the tree was stouter. A true elder. Leading, commanding, dignified. Its crown deeper and more imposing than those of its neighbors. Providing shade for the younger trees below. Shedding seed evolved over centuries. Stretching its prodigious limbs where songbirds roosted and nested. And where wolf lichens and mistletoes found crevices in which to root. Letting—needing—squirrels to run up and down its trunk in search of cones to store in middens for later meals. And to hang mushrooms in the crooks of branches to dry and eat. This tree alone was a scaffold for diversity, fueling the cycles of the forest.

Thamel" A narrative written by Avijeet Das The feelings of Paarijat linger as an epiphany and the smoke and aroma of incense sticks welcome you into a dream land. Myriad Thanka paintings splash colors in your eyes and the melodious chants of the Buddhist monks add tranquility to your heart. Cafes and restaurants mushroom here all the year round as does the grass in the valley around Kathmandu. While drifting in these lanes of Thamel, you feel like Alice in Wonderland, discovering the magic of hand crafted wooden sculptures, pashminas and yak wool shawls. And meeting foreign tourists from all around the world, smiling and greeting you a "Namaste" will serenade you with the fragrance of Nepal, intoxicating one and all!

in the 2018 Anderson, et al. study, researchers tested microdosers and found them to score higher on “open-mindedness,” which they hypothesized considering recent findings on increased openness with higher-dose sessions.120 They also found microdosers to score higher on tests of “wisdom,” which they defined as being able to “reflect learning from one’s mistakes, consider multiple perspectives when facing a situation, being in tune with one’s emotions and those of others, and feeling a sense of connection and unity.