Subterranean Wisdom: The Mycelium of the Unconscious

In a healthy garden, the most vital work happens where we cannot see it. Beneath the rows of flowers and vegetables lies a vast, intricate network of mycelium - fungal threads that connect plants, share nutrients, and carry information across the entire ecosystem.

In the landscape of the self, this is the unconscious.

The Mycelium of Memory

Psychodynamics teaches us that our current behaviors, triggers, and patterns are often the fruiting bodies (the mushrooms) of a much larger underground system. These are our "unnameable knowns" - experiences from our past, often from early childhood, that haven't been fully processed into words but continue to direct how we grow.

Just as mycelium stores the history of the soil, our unconscious stores the history of our relationships. If the soil of our early life was depleted or toxic, the roots we grow today might feel stunted or fragile. We may find ourselves repeating the same relational patterns or feeling a mysterious heaviness that we can’t quite explain.

Befriending the Undergrowth

In many traditional approaches, the goal is to pull the "weeds" or ignore the dark. But in somatic and psychodynamic work, we become curious about the subterranean. We realize that the parts of ourselves we have pushed into the shadows actually contain the very energy we need to bloom.

Through dream exploration, expressive arts, and authentic movement, we begin a dialogue with this hidden network. We ask:

• What is this tension in my chest trying to tell me about my history?

• What "nutrient" did I have to give up to survive that earlier season?

• How can I bring light to these roots without scorching them?

Composting the Past

The beauty of the garden metaphor is that nothing is truly "bad" for the soil; it is all potential energy. Psychodynamic work is a form of emotional composting. We take the old, decaying patterns - the shame, the secrets, and the unnameable fears - and we break them down through compassionate awareness.

As these old structures decompose, they release the nutrients of insight and vitality. The energy that was once used to keep those secrets buried is now available to fuel new growth. By befriending the unconscious, we ensure that our garden isn't just beautiful on the surface, but deeply rooted and resilient from the bottom up.

If you're curious about the 'mycelium' of your own history, I invite you to keep a dream journal this week and notice the sensations, not just the stories, that arise.