Sa Lilim ng Kabute: Rediscovering the Sacred in Philippine Soil

Sa pag-ambon ng madaling-araw, sumisibol ang kabute—tahimik ngunit may dalang alaala. Sa mga bitak ng lupa, nananahan ang sinaunang kaalaman na matagal nang nakalimutan.

Before they were written into Western lore as toadstools and fairy seats, mushrooms in the Philippines grew with the rain and thunder, whispered into existence by lightning. The kabuteng bukid (Agaricus campestris), sprouting unexpectedly after a storm, gave birth to the phrase "sumipot na parang kabute" to describe things that emerge suddenly, mysteriously. But there is little mystery here—only memory.

Filipinos have long had a relationship with kabute, not just as food, but as something tied to rhythm, weather, land, and lore. While Western myths saw mushrooms as magical because they symbolized the unknown, local belief grounded them in nature’s cycles. And yet, somewhere along our history—with colonization, modernization, and erasure—our ancestral connection to fungi faded.

Today, mushrooms are being remembered. Not just as sustenance, but as potential medicine for the spirit. Microdosing, a practice that involves taking sub-perceptual amounts of psychedelic substances like psilocybin, is quietly emerging in Filipino communities, particularly among seekers, creatives, and the mentally weary. Psilocybin-containing mushrooms like Panaeolus Cyanescens (locally known as Blue Meanie) grow in carabao fields, around manure, and only after rain. Recognizable by white caps, black gills, and a bruising blue hue, these fungi have been noted by local law enforcement for their underground popularity, often sold online and praised for their alleged therapeutic effects.

While most Filipino mushrooms remain non-psychoactive, such as kabuteng saging, dayami, shiitake, and oyster mushrooms, the therapeutic potential of psilocybin varieties is capturing attention globally. From the labs of Johns Hopkins and Imperial College to Silicon Valley boardrooms, microdosing is being studied for its ability to enhance mood, creativity, and mental clarity. But here in the Philippines, we must ask—what does it mean to reclaim a practice that was perhaps never lost, only unspoken?

Mushrooms have always been with us, whether in folklore or fields. The history of mushroom cultivation in the country is well-documented. In 1917, Filipino researcher Vicencio, under the guidance of Professor Charles Baker at the University of the Philippines Los Baños College of Agriculture, began studies on Volvariella. The 1970s and 80s saw massive strides in mushroom research and cultivation through institutions like UPLB, DOST, and IRRI, leading to the widespread farming of both edible and medicinal fungi. From Tagaytay burger joints to Baguio greenhouses, from supermarket shelves to international exports—kabute is not exotic here. It is ours.

Perhaps it is time to explore a new path—a path where science and spirit walk together. One that looks not to escape, but to return—to the body, to the land, to the mind. The resurgence of microdosing and mushrooms is not merely a trend. It is a reminder of what was always here, in the soil, in our rituals, and in our consciousness—waiting to be rediscovered.

Ang daan pauwi sa sarili ay maaaring dumaan sa ugat ng isang kabute. Sa pagtikim sa lupa, baka doon natin muling matagpuan ang ating mga ninuno, ang ating katotohanan, at ang ating paggaling.