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Magic Mushroom & Der Glueckspilz

Magic Mushroom & Der Glueckspilz

Sometimes, a metaphor comes hopping along and has a story to tell. Here is der Glueckspilz, the Magic Mushroom and the Magic Mushroom Fairy Tale.

It all began on a dreary morning of depression ... When the energy mind was asked for something to brighten up the day, it send The Glueckspilz.

This is from a German phrase, meaning an exceptionally lucky person, or Luck Mushroom.

Der Glueckspilz - Digital Illustration by Silvia Hartmann

Der Glueckspilz - Digital Illustration by Silvia Hartmann

Der Glueckspilz did the trick - much higher energy ensued and the day went remarkably well after that.

This all happened on Friday, the 13th of September, 2019, on the day of the Harvest Moon.

After some enthusiastic Harvest Moon celebrations, I had a lot of energy and it was already midnight.

So I made myself a 3D Happy Mushroom instead of sleeping.

At first I thought it was a Glueckspilz too but it turned out that this one was a MAGIC MUSHROOM instead :-)

 

Magic Mushroom 3D Object by Silvia Hartmann

Magic Mushroom 3D Object by Silvia Hartmann :-)

Of course, whenever high energy objects appear, Mens are immediately drawn to them.

Magic Mushroom in the Mens Garden

Magic Mushroom in the Mens Garden

Aaand ... the Magic Mushroom became a MEME.

he Magic Mushroom became a MEME.

The Magic Mushroom became a MEME.

 

And we were still not quite done.

A story, The Magic Mushroom, needed to be written.

And here it is.

 

Once upon a time, in a beautiful and blessed kingdom, there lived a young man who was even more sun blessed than everyone else.

He was extremely handsome, always had been, with sparkling eyes and delightful hair, a perfect body in every way, and not only was he loved and adored by all his kin, but everyone who saw him smiled at him, and liked him, and wanted to help him in any way they could.

He lived with his family in a small but happy house in the village, and across the cobble stone road, less than a stone's throw away, there was another house, and in this house, there lived another young man with his family, but he wasn't sun kissed, and he wasn't blessed.

Where love and good fortune followed the one, misery and misfortune followed the other; this was so from birth and continued through childhood and all the way to now.

The mother of the unhappy son grew increasingly desperate as time went on, and finally, on the 21st birthday of both young men, she went to the mother of the sun blessed one and asked her if she'd done something magical to make her son so wonderfull, so blessed, so lucky in every way.

The happy son's mother smiled and said, "Oh yes. When I was pregnant, I went into the magic forest, and there I found a special mushroom, the Luck Mushroom. I picked it, took it home, made a soup from it and drank it all up, and my child has been lucky ever since. It's marvellous, really!" she beamed with joy, with love and pride.

The other mother, whose son had lived in shadow all his life, went home and wondered if it was too late; but seeing that she was getting on in life and wouldn't be around to try and save her son again and yet again from all his darkness and misfortune, she decided to go forth to seek the Luck Mushroom, make a soup, and make him drink it, just for the off chance that it would make a change.

So she took her shawl, and a bundle with food, and a blanket, and went forth into the magic forest.

The magic forest is vast, and there comes a time, when all roads end, and all there is, is the forest.

Few venture forth at this point, but the mother was determined. She looked around, sought a direction, and heard the sounds of birds in the distance. Perhaps where birds are found, there could be mushrooms too, she reasoned, and started her way into the heart of the magic forest.

For days and nights she fought her way through undergrowth, over sticks and stones, following the sounds of the birds but never catching up with them, until one late afternoon, she came upon a small river, and decided to follow it, as it made walking easier.

She ran out of food soon enough and had to eat berries and roots, but she kept going, following the little river, until she heard a rushing sound ahead.

The little river plunged here from a high cliff into a valley below; and there was no way forward, no way down.

Below, in the valley lay the heart of the magic forest.

She saw the birds circling, great white birds high above in the deep blue sky, and tired and forelorn, the mother sat down on a rock and just watched the river plunge joyfully over the edge, and the birds above, and the valley below.

She sat for a long time and may have sat forever, if it had not been for a little voice that startled her.

"What are you doing here?"

She turned to see a small person, unusually small, wearing a green pointed hat and clothes the colours of the forest, standing before her by the side of the little river.

She sighed deeply, tried to collect her thoughts and remember why she was here, or even who she was, and then replied tiredly, "I seek the Luck Mushroom for my son."

"Oh," said the small person and came closer, sat down on a little rock not far from her feet. "The Luck Mushroom. It's been a while since someone came for that." They took off their hat, revealing bushy hair of the exact same colour of green beneath, rubbed their brow and continued, "A woman it was, half your age, half an age ago. I remember her well."

The mother nodded, filled now with excitement and renewed hope. "Yes," she cried, "I know her, and her son turned out to be the luckiest person in all the kingdoms! My son has never been lucky. I need to find that mushroom to put an end to his suffering, or perish in the quest!"

"Oh my," cried the little person in return, "This seems severe! I will take you to where the mushrooms grow, but it is quite a way, and you look famished. How would you like to come back to my house first, get something to eat and drink, and a good night's sleep, although my bed might be a little small for you ... but there's fresh hay in the stables ..."

The mother had already jumped to her feet and nodded furiously, clasping her empty bundle, so devoid of food or drink. "That would be wonderful," she cried, "You are so kind! So kind! Why, I'm not used to such kindness ..." and here she burst out into tears, put her hands before her face and sobbed.

The little person put their hat back on, straightened it, and went over to the sobbing mother, who, it is true, was much worn out by her life's troubles and the many tribulations on her quest. They stroked her leg through her woolen skirt, and said, "There, there now ..." until finally the mother stopped crying, sniffled and even managed a small smile.

"Which way to the food, and the hay?" she asked, and the little person beamed, held out their tiny hand, which the mother took and the two went on their way.


The house of the little person was likewise, small and it was mushroom-inspired too, round with a big top hat and there were little windows all around.

The mother had to squeeze in through the rounded doorway, but once inside, the mushroom house seemed very much larger. The mother was too big to sit on any of the chairs, so she sat on a rug instead, and the little person brought her cakes and loaves made from magic, and from forest fruits, and filled a little cup over and over again with a warming drink that tasted of sunshine, from a jug that was as big as the little person was themselves.

Soon, the mother grew very very tired, and fell asleep, right there on the rug in the little person's house, before a gentle warming fire. As the little person watched her drift away, they could see the deep grooves and wrinkles in her face beginning to soften, and then disappear, one by one; and by the time the mother was fast asleep, her face looked young, and radiant, and a small smile played around her lips as she began to dream of wonderous things, the kind a person doesn't even know to want or dream of, when their lives are hard.

The little person went about their doings, and the next day, the mother was still sleeping, and the little person did not wake her up. So she slept another day, and then, another night; another day and then, another night, and we can't quite know just how long the mother slept before the little person's hearth, but there was a morning, and it was purest gold and blue, when she awoke, and when she did, the grooves and wrinkles had quite gone, and she looked fresh, and new.

She stretched and yawned most mightily, and smiled the most starry smile at the little person, that made their little heart beat bigger, stronger in return, and after a hearty breakfast of mysterious things that sang and prickled in the mouth, danced on the tongue and made a person smile from inside out, the two went on their way to find the magic mushroom that would end the misery for this one mother's son, once and for all.

The day was sunblessed, sun kissed; radiant blue the sky and gentle winds made flowers nod, and grasses dance, and little leaves were fluttering as they went by. They walked where no trail could be known, amidst the meadows and then on into the magic forest, where giant trees stood like enormous ancient guardians and shafts of golden sunlight lit their way.

And finally, and up ahead, there was a shimmer of the brightest green, and so they stepped together and in awe into a meadow bathed in gold and green, and colours you have never seen, of flowers, leaves and yes, there were the magic mushrooms, sparkling shooting stars of magic just as though they were a fountain each, their lights like tiny beings taking wing and singing softly of the wonder of it all.

The mother, young and light of foot, ran forward, to the stand of mushrooms, and sank upon her knees into the soft, sweet grass before them, held out her hands and cried, and cried so many tears of joy, of gratitude, of a happiness so pure and undiluted, as she had never known before ...

... or had she ..?

And the mother remembered that she had felt this before, the moment when she held her son in her own arms that summer morning long ago, and she had known that she could love, and tried and tried to do her best ...

The little person stepped up beside her and placed a tiny hand on her back, for now the mother was crying in a different way, for deep regret and times that could be turned now never back, and loss, and sadness, so much grief ...

Tears fall and fall and then they gentle, they run out, and silence reigns; there is a time when we begin to breathe again, and live again, and know that we are still alive and there is still so much to do before this journey ends.

The little person said, "You are here now. Here are the magic mushrooms. They are the same, and they are not for luck, they are for love."

The mother raised her tear soaked face up to the sunlight, and the mushrooms, fountain sparkling little lights, and she whispered, "For love?"

The little person sat down next to her, and they said softly, "Yes, for love is all there is, and all good things, they come from love, and only from love."

The mother nodded and sighed. "Yes, it is right and true, and I thank you. Now may I take one of these wondrous mushrooms, and carry it back to my son, so that he may be healed at last, and his life can now begin?"

The little person shook their head. "No, I'm afraid, you cannot. That's not how it works."

The mother, shocked and scared, turned to him. Her eyes were enormous, and tears started gathering once more. "It's too late?" she whispered, "I should have come here half a lifetime ago? Like the other woman did? It's too late?" and here, she clasped her hands to her chest, for there was such a pain there, she thought her heart might be breaking.

The little person touched her cheek with an outstretched, tiny finger and said most lovingly, "No, it's not too late. But think! The other woman, did she give the mushroom to her son?"

And here the mother's eyes became even wider still as she gasped, "She ... drank the magic potion herself?"

The little person clapped his hands and laughed. "That's right!" they cried, "That's exactly what she did. It was for her, not for the child."

The mother sat back on her heels, folded her hands in her lap and looked at the sparkling mushrooms for a long time, as time flowed through her, and with every moment, every drop of time that formed a trickle, then a brook, a river and finally a mighty waterfall she understood that it was her joy, her happiness, her love that was the key.

She never screamed or cried; did not dance around the magic glen on wings of light. Instead, she reached forward, and took the very smallest of the magic mushrooms, right from the edge, the one that was growing closest to her, and gently asked permission for it to come to her. It instantly detached, nearly jumped into her hand, and she took it, held it to her heart, closed her eyes and then she popped it into her mouth, and swallowed it whole.

And there, the world turned on its axis; the stars spun fast; a million suns exploded into light, and when the mother did awake, she found herself on a ledge, on a sunny day, where a forest river turned into a waterfall, and she was young, and she was clear, and she was saved.

When she returned to the village a few days later, she found that her son had struck it lucky; found a girl who looked at him with starry eyes, and both welcomed her with joy, and endless love in their hearts.



Silvia Hartmann
September 2019




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