What Mycelium Can Teach Us About Childhood

The first time I learned about mycelium, I was captivated.

Like many people, I had always noticed the mushrooms. They seemed to appear overnight after a rainfall, decorating the forest floor with tiny umbrellas and unexpected bursts of colour. But I soon discovered that the mushroom is only a small part of a much larger story.

Beneath the forest floor lies mycelium: an intricate network of delicate threads that stretches silently through the soil. This hidden web connects plants, trees, fungi, and countless other organisms, helping forests share nutrients, respond to change, and support one another in ways we are only beginning to understand.

The more I learned about mycelium, the more I found myself thinking about children.

As adults, we often celebrate the parts of childhood that are easy to see. A child learns to write their name. They count to twenty. They tie their shoes for the first time. These milestones are exciting, and they deserve to be celebrated.

But just like the mushroom, they are only the visible part of growth.

Much of childhood happens beneath the surface.

Every meaningful conversation. Every comforting hug. Every muddy adventure outside. Every conflict resolved with a friend. Every question that begins with “Why?” These moments may not end up on a worksheet or hanging on a classroom wall, but they are quietly shaping the person a child is becoming.

Confidence grows beneath the surface.

Curiosity grows beneath the surface.

Empathy grows beneath the surface.

A sense of belonging grows beneath the surface.

These invisible foundations support everything that comes later.

As an early childhood educator, I have found that this perspective has changed the way I think about learning. Rather than asking, “What did the child produce today?” I find myself asking different questions.

Did they feel safe enough to take a risk?

Did they make a meaningful connection with someone else?

Did they spend time wondering, exploring, creating, or caring for the world around them?

Those experiences matter because relationships are not separate from learning. They are the foundation of learning.

Children grow through relationships with their families, educators, peers, communities, and the natural world. They learn by observing, experimenting, asking questions, and feeling connected to the people and places around them. Growth is rarely linear, and it is almost never as visible as we would like it to be.

That is one of the reasons I chose the name Little Mycelium.

To me, mycelium is a beautiful reminder that the most important work often happens where we cannot see it. Beneath every confident child is a network of relationships, experiences, encouragement, challenges, and moments of wonder that helped them become who they are.

I hope this space becomes a reflection of that idea.

Here, you’ll find reflections on childhood, nature, play, education, and the quiet moments that often go unnoticed. I’ll share ideas inspired by my work as an educator, my love of the outdoors, and my belief that children deserve time to wonder, explore, and build meaningful relationships with the world around them.

This isn’t a place about rushing childhood or chasing milestones.

It’s about slowing down.

It’s about noticing.

It’s about trusting that growth is happening, even when we can’t always measure it.

Just as a healthy forest depends on the unseen connections beneath the soil, children flourish when we nurture the relationships that support them. When we invest in those invisible roots, we aren’t simply helping children learn—we’re helping them grow into curious, compassionate, and resilient people.

Perhaps that’s the greatest lesson mycelium has to offer us.

The strongest growth is often the growth we cannot see.

🌿 Beneath the Surface

Before you move on, I'd like to leave you with one question.

When you think about a child in your life, what invisible roots might be quietly growing beneath the surface?

Maybe it's confidence.

Maybe it's kindness.

Maybe it's resilience, curiosity, or a growing sense of belonging.

Whatever it is, remember that some of the most important growth is happening long before we can see it.

Until next time,

Jess
Little Mycelium