Psora – The First Delusion

thegirlymum
Sep 18
4 min read

From psora arises the vast host of human suffering, yet it is also the restless striving that keeps mankind moving forward.

A miasm is more than a disease pattern.

It’s an inherited archetype of suffering — a survival mode passed down through generations that shapes how we experience illness, fear,

and even our relationship with our creator.

In homeopathy, every chronic condition carries the imprint of a miasm.

And at the root of them all is the first one: Psora.

“All disease begins in the spirit.” James Tyler Kent wrote this,

but you don’t have to be a homeopath to know it’s true.

Long before the body shows a symptom,

the roots of suffering have already been planted in the generations before us.

My life typically mirrors the themes of my writings and in true Lindsay-fashion,

I saw this psora show up in myself just last week.

I had been pushing at full speed —

ran my longest run in years, eating my weight in protein,

carrying the sense that my whole family's survival was riding on my back.

Thought I was killing it. Scaling walls.

And then suddenly, a headache dropped me in bed for days.

When I finally came up for air, I realized something had shifted.

The burden I’d been dragging — the sense that everything depended on me — had lifted.

I could feel what I’d been missing: the experience of being held.

That delusion of carrying it all alone?

That was separation.

That was Psora.

The Meaning of Psora

The word Psora comes from the Greek for itch.

Hahnemann used it to describe the ancient itch-disease, scabies.

But it didn’t just mean parasite.

It meant the restless, never-satisfied state of being human —

the itch that can’t be scratched,

the ache that drives us to seek relief in every possible direction.

Psora, he said, is the foundation of all chronic disease.

The mother of miasms.

Separation as the First Suffering

Every wisdom tradition has its own way of telling this story:

In Genesis, Adam and Eve’s first pain wasn’t physical but spiritual — they recognized their skin - they felt shame, fear, and hid from God.
In Buddhism, the First Noble Truth names birth itself as suffering, because we cling to what is impermanent.
In Hinduism, maya (illusion) is forgetting our true Self and oneness with Brahman.
In Jewish mysticism, the “shattering of the vessels” scattered divine light into fragments.
In Taoism, turning away from the Tao, (what simply is) brings striving and imbalance.
In Indigenous traditions, disconnection from land, ancestors, and spirit is the root wound, with healing found in reconnection.

The details differ, but the thread is the same:

the first suffering is not pain,

but the illusion of being cut off.

This is Psora — the ache of separation, the itch of discontent.

The Itch That Can’t Be Scratched

Think of scabies: an itch that drives you mad, that no amount of scratching can satisfy.

That is Psora in the body — and in the soul.

Spiritually → fog, forgetfulness, the restless search for God.

Mentally → looping thoughts, worry about the future, anxiety that “something will go wrong.”

Emotionally → loneliness, dissatisfaction, the feeling that life is always just out of reach.

Physically → eruptions, eczema, itching skin, chronic weakness, poor digestion.

Psora is not just a diagnosis.

It’s an archetype you know in your own life.

If you’ve ever thought,

“I’ll feel better when I have more money, more time, more love, more health”,

you’ve felt Psora.

If you’ve ever itched with restlessness, scrolled endlessly at night,

or believed happiness was just one step away — you’ve met Psora.

For me, Psora looked like carrying everything myself —

finances, family, survival — until the burden became unbearable.

Only when that illusion cracked did I feel what it meant not to be alone.

Rubrics of Psora

Homeopaths have described Psora in thousands of rubrics, but they all share the same core:

Fear of poverty.
Anxiety about the future.
Restlessness; constant desire for change.
Hopelessness mixed with striving.
Religious melancholy; guilt; fear of judgment.
Weak digestion, poor assimilation.
Skin eruptions: itching, psoriasis, eczema, dermatitis.
Weak joints, chronic back pain, poor recovery from illness.

Kent called Psora “the underlying cause of most disease,”

but he also noted its restless striving was

the very thing that keeps humanity moving forward.

A Gentle Reflection

If you've already identified that you fit in this miasm, you're right.

We all do. This is our collective beginning of suffering.

Pause here for a moment.

Where in your life do you feel the itch of “never enough”?

How does your body echo that feeling — in your skin, your digestion, your fatigue?

What if the itch isn’t proof of lack, but a signal pointing you back to connection?

The Hope in Psora

If Psora is the first wound, then it’s also the first door we want to get back to in healing.

The itch is a reminder.

It tells you where you’ve forgotten your wholeness.

It drives you to seek, to scratch, to long —

until you finally remember that you were never actually separate.

Ways to Soothe the Psoric Itch

Practical steps to bring your system back into connection:

Pause before striving → When you catch yourself thinking, “I’ll be okay when…”, stop and notice the present moment. Breathe.
Skin rituals → Apply a simple oil (like coconut or jojoba) with attention. Let your skin feel tended instead of scratched.
Ground through nature → Walk barefoot on the earth, sit with your back against a tree, or watch the sky for a few minutes. Psora longs for reconnection.
One thing less → Simplify a to-do list item. Ask: “What can I set down today that I was never meant to carry alone?”
Gratitude practice → Write down three things that already are, instead of what’s missing. This re-patterns the restless “not enough.”
Connection ritual → Whisper a prayer, light a candle, or journal a line beginning with: “I am not alone when…”