Out of damp and gloomy days, out of solitude, out of loveless words directed at us, conclusions grow up in us like a fungus: one morning they are they, we know not how, and they gaze upon us, morose and gray. Woe to the thinker who is not the gardener but only the soil of the plants that grow in him.
~ Friedrich Nietzsche
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I like that idea of tending to what is planted in us. We can weed out some of that bad stuff or repurpose it to help the good things grow. We have some agency to create change and manage ourselves - our inner lives as well as the ways we engage with the outer world.
But sometimes the fungus that grows in us is morel mushrooms. In which case - yahoo!
The morel of the story is you can be a fungi or a boring guy. Mush of life is up to us.
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