The morning sun filtered gently through the pine branches as Marsya Ancker‑Robert knelt by the luminous, cocoon‑like structure that held her father’s body.
It was June 2025, and unlike anything she had ever seen at a burial site, this “casket” was woven of pure white mycelium—mushroom roots designed to feed life, not consume it. It was the first-of-its-kind mushroom burial in North America, an emblem of hope reimagining how we say goodbye.
From Grief To A Living Memorial
Marsya, recalling her father’s love of the land, had always known his final wish: rest under the trees, naked and unfiltered. But finding a burial that honored both memory and earth felt impossible—until she discovered Loop Biotech’s “Living Cocoon.”
Crafted from mycelium and hemp, the cocoon matures in just a week, then returns to the earth within 45 days, accelerating natural decay while enriching the soil.
“Here he is, in his little cocoon in the woods, naked, with his favorite things next to him,” Marsya shared with quiet wonder.
Gardening on the spot turned her grief into gratitude—it was healing, hopeful, and deeply personal.
The Science Beneath Our Feet
Mycelium, the unseen web under forest floors, excels at recycling. It breaks down toxins—metals, petroleum, even microplastics—into nourishment. In the Living Cocoon, this fungal network transforms both the body and its container, cleansing rather than contaminating.
In Europe, thousands of these cocoons have already been used. Loop Biotech, the Dutch startup behind the design, estimates sales of over 2,500 caskets across Netherlands, Germany, and more, with each cocoon cultivated in just seven days and buried within 30–45 days decomposing entirely, body included, in 2–3 years.
Pioneers And Perspective
Long before Loop, however, ecological death was brewing in creative minds. Artist-scientist Jae Rhim Lee conceived the Infinity Burial Suit—spores embedded in a full-body garment to neutralize toxins during decomposition.
Luke Perry, the actor, chose such a suit for his 2019 burial, saying it transformed his body into nutrients that would “[enrich] the earth and foster new life.”
Meanwhile, burial practices from across the globe—natural urn pods, tree burials, aquamation, and human composting—are gaining ground as people shift away from chemically embalmed wood caskets or carbon-emitting cremation.
Why Now?
Environmental urgency: In the U.S. alone, the death care industry uses 4.3 million gallons of embalming fluid, 20 million board-feet of hardwood, and tons of concrete annually. These materials contaminate the soil, leach chemicals, and deplete resources.
Cultural shift: Surveys from the National Funeral Directors Association show 60–68 % of families are now exploring green burial options, up from around 55 % in 2021.
Regenerative promise: Nature-based interment offers more than neutrality—it’s an act of renewal. Mycelium enriches soil; tree-pod burials plant living memorials; reef urns create new marine ecosystems.
Concerns In The Bloom
But even blooming ideas have thorns:
Regulation Gap: The green market remains lightly regulated. Some providers exaggerate eco-claims; cases of improper burial and poor oversight have been reported.
Greenwashing Risk: Coffins made of imported woven fibers may carry hidden environmental costs, and not all rurally claimed ‘natural burials’ are certified by trusted bodies like the Green Burial Council.
Effectiveness Unknown: While mycelium is proven as a recycler in labs, its real-world burial efficacy continues to be evaluated.
The Hopeful Horizon
Despite these concerns, the mushroom coffin stands as a symbol of mindful grief and earth-first mourning. For Marsya, planting seeds over her father’s cocoon and envisioning the garden to come became an act of deep regeneration. It’s not just about death—it’s an invitation to transform loss into life.
Loop Biotech has launched in the U.S. this June (World Environment Day), and currently sells cocoons for approximately US $1,500–1,700, comparable to many traditional coffins but far more planet-positive.
Conclusion: Endings That Blossom
In a world that often clings to permanence, mushroom coffins remind us that endings can seed beginnings. They don’t merely break down—they build up, cultivating living memorials in place of stone monuments. And as green burial options expand—from fungal suits to reef urns—they reflect a growing desire to harmonize death with ecological stewardship.
In burying a body in a mycelium cocoon, families aren’t just laying a loved one to rest—they’re planting hope. In that quiet forest clearing in Maine, a father’s memory now nourishes life, his grief-stricken daughter tending not sorrow, but soil—and future green growth.
