253. The Human Mycelium - Fernando Murillo
November 2020: Fernando’s first day of freedom after 24 years of incarceration
We are so much more than one individual, functioning person. We are mycelium, a network that creates and sustains life and growth.
On November 10, 2020, Gavin Newsom, the governor of California and my hero, granted me clemency. Ten days later, I walked out of prison as a forty-one-year-old man, after entering on a life sentence as a sixteen-year-old child. In those twenty-four years of incarceration, I really didn’t get to see trees up close.
Since my release, I have been enjoying hikes, enjoying my time with trees. California has some big, beautiful ones—redwoods, eucalyptus, oak, just to name a few. I tend to stare at them. I am amazed by all the life these beautiful trees support, for bugs, birds, rodents, as well as people, humanity. But what I am truly amazed by is what we cannot see: the mycelium, that underground fungal network that sustains and enhances life. Trees do not live and function on their own. They thrive and flourish through that unseen network beneath our feet.
Around the same time I started staring at trees, I learned about the Isolation Journals—my friend Suleika shared it with me after I got out. It has been a gift to read the stories people have shared about Covid, about cancer, about isolating as a means to survive. I read the prompt “Inside Seeing,” by Lou Sullivan and his mom Alexa; I thought about how, when I was locked in the concrete bunkers of Pelican Bay, I closed my eyes, and I reconnected with memories of friends and family. In my mind, I reconnected with humanity to keep myself alive.
We are so much more than one individual, functioning person. We are mycelium, a network that creates and sustains life and growth. The Isolation Journals is an example of this human mycelium. Even while socially distancing, we are finding creative ways to support one another, listen to one another, heal one another. We are not alone; no, we are very much connected.
Nature is so beautiful. I think of Tilden Park in Berkeley and all of its beautiful trees, the way they sound when the wind blows through them. I think about the many people who read of Lou and his mom, who wanted to hold them, fight for them, support them. Our natural human disposition is to be social. We need each other. These beautiful trees that I have had the privilege of seeing, touching, smelling, listening to—they’re teaching me an invaluable lesson.
Now that I am a free man, I have been paying so much attention to our mother (Earth); she has so much to teach me about my place here, and how I can make a difference. I hope with these shared experiences, we can continue to be that human mycelium, gravitating toward growth, hope, meaningful relationships, and life.
- Fernando Murillo
