ππΌ What Grows in Us πΌπ
I think about how mushrooms don’t ask
for perfect conditions—
they just take what life rotted out
and turn it into something
that can stand again.
And it hits me
how human that is.
How most of us weren’t raised in sunlight,
weren’t handed soft soil,
weren’t given a map
for how to become anything at all.
We learned to grow sideways,
through pressure,
through silence,
through whatever broke before we got here.
Maybe that’s the real philosophy of it—
not blooming,
not shining,
just quietly refusing to die
in places that were never meant
to hold us.
Some things rise tall.
Some things rise true.
I’ve always been the latter.
-πβ π€
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