Stay in Your Magic

by Kyrsten Carlson

Have you ever felt as if there just isn’t a great enough space to be fully and authentically you? I confess that for most of my young adult life I struggled immensely with this, constantly feeling like I was “too much” or not enough. 

Four grams of mushrooms later…. After being swallowed into the earth’s green, rooted core…. I foraged for and brought into being, pieces of myself that no matter how many mushrooms I took I could not reach alone.  I experienced an unexplainable sensation resembling only what I can describe as un-abandonment,  a reversal of desertions.

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I have to tell you,

I did everything possible to avoid processing this. I didn’t want to allow people in because I would be opening myself up to possibility of betrayal. At first, I tried to reject their interest and I kept myself silent from sharing my truth.  Judging and feeling judged, remaining in the shadow (both literally and in self) deflecting, not accepting love. I told myself I didn’t deserve it.

It was after I stood up and moved myself from the shade into the sunshine that I truly allowed the plant medicine to induce openness; like the entry to a wound.

And once I did……..

Honey I rose up from the dead.

Introspectively, I am a strong believer that (if you believe in souls) the soul usually knows what to seek out in order to heal itself.  The challenge evolution has not yet conquered, is how to silence the mind. During this trip, I felt the weight of the earth’s concern on my shoulders.  Placating my body between two firm couch pillows, I had visions of personal truths and saw their correlations with the universe; open to visions of the public sanitation crisis, corporations fueled by slave labour and exploitation and the corruption of the most deprived and undefended areas of the world.  These human offences were drenched in strong swamp like, binding ooze. It adhered itself to depictive statues of women set in stone that I associate with awakened consciousness.  I envisioned women throughout the ages labelled heretic, revealed heroine; like Joan of Arc standing proud, sword in hand, burning!  Goddess Prudentia extended her hand to me, holding a snake and mirror; standing beside Justice who spoke to me the way a loving mother should.   

I felt my highest self crawling out from the depths of what both looked and felt like a swamp of mucous and sickness, into bright beaming BLUE fractals of transformation.

I remember constantly looking to the person I felt the most connected with, searching for the words or some form of magical communication to share this concentrated consciousness with one another.  I wanted to understand the women around me as deeply as I had shut people out and numbed my senses. I remember feeling a prickling shame resembling survivor’s remorse. How come I get to bathe in the sunlight while my friend is trying to escape submergence in the swamp?  

Fixated on the emotion saturating my friends skin, I imagined each drop of liquid leaving her body as sickness making space for love and acceptance.  Feeling like I just now was learning how to crawl again, humbled by this medicine I wanted nothing more in that moment to take away her pain and replace it with hope.  I wanted to give her my space in the sun.

Being an empath is a superpower. As long as we form boundaries that honor our threshold for sensitivity as much as we respect others’ threshold for empathy.  If you want to harness this superpower, revel in what makes your heart soar. Stay in your magic.

It was almost as if by discovering my own sickness, crawling out from this mucousy shadow of sadness- that I now felt somehow equipped to transform these dark, unsettling emotions simply by disposing of ego and instead of worrying about this appearance of strength, be open to the possibility of surrender.  I could decipher some fucking DARK corners of my memory with these kind, warrior women around me. Cruel trick? Or a symbolic synchronicity that WE four women were meant to meet and heal together, unabandoned and alongside…..?  By being open to sharing an experience with others rather than isolating myself I allowed SPACE enough to find her. Validating permission to get the fuck up and go sit in the sunshine! And although that sounds simple that is a small victory worth celebrating. For many children who’ve experienced sexualized violence in forms of incest and/or abuse, blowing into a kleenex without making a sound is your main priority. You apologize for existing.  Revealing my vulnerability and knowing these women saw beauty rather than weakness was truly self awakening. None of us have it all figured out. Just like my mushroom visions, people you meet in life will hold up mirrors in correspondence, revealing life altering epiphanies if you are receptive enough to learning from them. But it is only when you believe you are deserving that truly incredible things can be seen.

“ I have come to drag you out of yourself, and take you in my heart.
I have come to   ~==~R I N G O U T~~=~  the beauty you never knew you had
and lift you like a prayer to the sky.”           
-Rumi


Follow the sunlight Stay in your magic 


Kyrsten Carlson is a dormer dispensary guru and trimmer turned freelance writer and full time activist, Kyrsten April founded the NOT YOUR FAULT campaign to be a voice for those who have been silenced. With sexualized assault support worker training, the NOT YOUR FAULT campaign refers support services to survivors who have been caught in the grips of human trafficking and sexual exploitation.  Advocating for plant medicine use regarding Post Traumatic Stress Injury as well as harm reduction and substance replacement, Kyrsten uses her extensive experience of clients’ custom needs and helps survivors navigate the harsh waters of the system. 

Anne-Marie Fischer