Purple Crust fungus essence is mind-boggling, literally. Pulses of source energy, high frequency, entered my body through my hand touching it, pulses dissolving something…what? I just relaxed into it, allowed and received it…big, it dissolves something big–reality. What reality? Not material, not mental–the best that came to me was a phrase my Bars-buddy Johanna used when she came back from Rikka Zimmerman’s Toronto 5-day: “unsubscribe from this reality.”
That’s what Purple Crust essence does even more, not just unsubscribe. It dissolves the compulsions, the connections, the hooks. Like a total reboot of our OS to upgrade to the New Earth crystalline “grid.” I so dislike that word, grid, it’s so rigid! My perception of this informational/energy level is that it flows, bends, it’s more like a spiderweb flexing in the wind, than an urban grid of numbered streets that gets gridlocked with traffic. That’s what folks call it so I’m mentioning it here, and then I’m calling it the golden crystalline net. Matrix is actually a beautiful word for it, as its root is mother, which Earth is. Matrix has been coopted by the movie though, in which it means something sinister.
I digress! Purple Crust essence dissolves the old paradigm reality structure in our body-mind field. Then we can choose what we’d like, either to replace that with the New Earth matrix-web-net, or to live free in the question of infinite being.
Then I started reading my newly purchased and printed-out pages of the Access Consciousness reference notes for Foundation/Level 1, all 388 pages. And thank you to flower essence customer Linda Harrison for clueing me in to the existence of this amazing material! There’s a whole section, pages and pages and pages of explanation and clearings, on the supermind. A couple pages into it I perceived that this supermind is what the Purple Crust essence dissolves. How does it get any better than that? I love the synchronicity of making an essence and writing my descriptions about the deva’s communications, and then finding more words for it in a book or poem, movie or song, or AC reference notes.
Check out the awesomeness of how this essence came to me: my husband is planning to buy a motorcycle. He’s ordered a shed for the motorcycle. The shed is going to go next to our driveway, where we planted some rhododendrons last year (or maybe the year before–can I remember? is it relevant?) Tromping through the woods, I scouted new locations for the rhododendrons. I cleared away branches we’d tossed there, and that had fallen in a recent storm. This essence literally fell from the sky at my feet.
Suddenly I saw purple. (Remember the passage from the novel and movie, about seeing the color purple in a field, and how that lifted the protagonist out of everyday reality?) Purple on a fallen branch. I’d never seen that before. I picked up the branch in wonder. This wasn’t just purplish, or lavenderish, this was purple.
Purple is an unusual color in the fungus realm. There are some purple mushrooms. This isn’t a mushroom, it’s a crust fungus. This sounds like what it is: a fungus that grows along a surface so it appears there’s this crust layer of fungus over it. For those of you who are grossed out by fungoid subjects, please be enlightened: fungi growing in the forest are totally different from mold that grows in your veggie drawer or bathroom or wherever. Molds of this type inhabit areas of stagnant, low energy. Their presence is the universe telling you to make a shift in the energy in that area.
Forest fungi are particular about where they grow. Like wild mushrooms, they need the right kind of wood to inhabit, of a certain age and type. These fungi that I see on fallen branches have been growing high in the trees, inside branches and beneath bark exposed to light and wind and rain and snow. They spend years developing invisible mycelial networks, saturating an area of wood or earth before encountering another fungi of the same species, exchanging DNA, and fruiting.
Fruiting is what it’s called when threads of mycellium transform themselves into a mushroom or other shape that is visible, exposed to the outer air. Unlike plants that create flowers in order to exchange DNA with other flowers and make seeds, fungi fruit with the next generation’s DNA already combined in their spores. The Purple Crust that caught my eye in the forest is shedding embryos.
Purple! I am amazed each time!
I couldn’t find any purple crust fungi in my books. There’s an indigo blue crust, very different color. So I don’t have a Latin name for this, or even a common name. This is not unsual; close to a third of the fungi I encounter in my rambles aren’t in my books. What else is possible?