January 26, 2017October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Poem 1) this arse (still so terrified of pears) by Kerryn Coombs-Valeontis

this arse –(still so terrified of pears) (bottom too dreary, backside reserved for aphrodite) born of the mother: pears reclining on daybeds on drowsy veranda’s in the temple of Read More …

(Prose) Water, Spiritual Source by Deanne Quarrie

We are creatures of water. Water is our original source as well as what makes up at least 70% of our bodies. It is part of every cell and fiber in us and is our essence. What if water were the common denominator weaving all of life (earth, animal, human, and plant) together? Is it what connects us all? It is pretty incredible when you realize that the water we have here on Earth right now is the same water that has always been here. Do you suppose there are messages contained within water? Do you think it is possible for our ancestors to speak to us through water?
(Story 1) The Spirit in the Teapot by Carolyn Lee Boyd

Art, “Woman with Bountiful Bowls” by Nanri Tenney Lucia poured water into the tea kettle and set it on the stove. She then measured two scoops of tea leaves into her grandmother’s century-old teapot, too distraught to notice their tangy aroma or curling beauty, before replacing the lid. Only rarely did the teapot leave the battered cabinet where Lucia kept her precious family mementoes, but today she hankered to touch its round, inviting belly, admire the delicate designs winding around in a never-ending circle, and savor again the hours that she and her grandmother had spent chatting while drinking tea when she was a girl. It was a simple teapot just like hundreds of others made by the same factory so long ago, but to Lucia it was a gateway to all she had lost and did not know how to regain. She had been laid off from her part-time, minimum wage job in the morning and spent the afternoon in line at the neighborhood food pantry. She had never before asked for help, but she needed milk or bread for her son and daughter when they came home from school. A freezing panic set into her stomach as she glanced at the calendar and realized that rent was due next week. Without her job she would never be able to pay it and she was already two months behind. If she and her children were evicted, where would they go? She thought of her grandmother who had brought the teapot with her on the long voyage from the home country she had fled when war made life too dangerous for her family and village. She was just a small girl traveling alone because there was only enough money for one family member to escape. The teapot, a memento, had been wrapped in the few clothes in her suitcase along with a letter to a distant relative begging her to take Lucia’s grandmother in. Lucia had learned all this from her mother, now long since passed away. Her grandmother had never spoken of it. Lucia wondered how her grandmother had survived so much, even more than she herself was facing now. She pondered how her grandmother cherished every flower in her garden, every human being she met, every day as being made up of moments of grace. She always seemed as if she knew she was where she was supposed to be, doing what she was meant to do, even if she was just washing dishes, or, in her last months, sitting quietly in the dayroom of her nursing home. Lucia remembered having such transcendent moments herself as a child, but now she was so busy with trying to keep herself and her children fed, clothed, and sheltered that she had no time for the luxury of contentment. Lucia’s reverie was interrupted by the whistle of the tea kettle. She waited a moment for the water to stop boiling, then poured it into the teapot. The faint sound awoke one of the Spirits who Goddess had assigned to Earth as a caretaker of the world’s living beings. She had given this Spirit the special task of serving the world’s women. The Spirit had taken a short nap, only a few thousand years, merely the wink of an eye in terms of human history. Other Spirits had continued on during her rest, answering the cries of those in despair, gazing down with compassionate eyes, always offering just what was needed even if the humans thought they wanted something else. The whistle reminded her of the delightful hums, chants, and music that had come from all the Goddess sacred sites around the world when she had first fallen asleep. She wiped the mist of millennia from her eyes and flew down to Earth to see where the music was coming from. She looked in vain for a globe full of caves, temples, shrines, groves and other sites sacred to the Goddess. The Spirit found that so many had been abandoned and razed that entire communities existed without a single image of Goddess. The places that had once been so holy were now silent, bereft of human hearts and minds. In many places, the names and images of Goddess were now reviled or forgotten. Her hymns and stories were no longer told and her music no longer filled the air. The Spirit, first puzzled, then troubled, sought out the humans who were so dear to her and searched their souls. Too many women who once saw themselves as the sacred givers of life and had served as shamans and priestesses, now no longer knew that Goddess was within them and their voices were banished from holy places. To the Spirit, the destruction that had taken place was epitomized by the desecration of the serpents. All over the planet she saw the sacred snakes cut into pieces, made into objects of fear and revulsion. For millennia, snakes had been symbols of the renewal of life and transformation and had accompanied the priestesses in their ceremonies. In many culture, the serpent was the symbol of wisdom and enlightenment and the life energy within all humans, ascending upwards when awakened. Could the sacred serpents be made whole and once again bring their life-giving power to humans, the Spirit wondered? Could people as isolated from one another as the pieces of the serpent ever find each other and their own sacredness within themselves? Nanri Tenney Artist Statement Woman with Bountiful Bowls, a symbol for forward movement and positive feminine energy in our times. This spiritual woman on a teapot lid is offering bowls of food to all. She is holding the world in balance with her nurturing creativity and sustainability. The round teapot represents the world in the process of returning to a healthy state. The spout and handle morphs the globe into a peaceful serpent dragon, a vehicle for positive transformation. The cut-up dead snake below the teapot is the shadow world and represents the …
(E-Interview) Luciana Percovich by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

At the Culture Indigene di Pace Conference, Torino, 2012 I have the honor of staying connected with Luciana Percovich, an Italian feminist advocate, writer, and researcher, for almost the last three decades. Details are fading in my memory on when exactly we first got connected. What cannot be forgotten is that our deeply felt influence by Mary Daly’s radical feminist thought brought us together. Rather, Luciana reached out to me when I was just beginning my scholarly career as a returning graduate student in the Women’s Studies in Religion program at Claremont Graduate University. One day out of the blue I was contacted by Luciana from Italy telling me that she had invited Mary Daly for the feminist event. Luciana was one of my serendipitous allies when I was very isolated but fully surrounded by my research tasks. I was comforted by Luciana’s interest in the topic of gynocentric-cosmogony and my work on The Magoist Cosmogony. I am thankful that you have agreed on doing an E-Interview with me and answered my questions that I thought important to introduce you to our RTM readers and beyond. Hwang Tell us about your Goddessian research. How did it begin? What made you take it up as a topic for your scholarship? Percovich My research began after I had spent many years within the Women’s Movement in Milano, where I arrived in 1967 to attend university. These were the years of the students’ movement, when a whole generation began questioning the core of the social economic and political structure. Very soon I encountered the first women’s consciousness-raising groups and engaged in some pioneering projects (women’s health centers, bookshops, brand new women’s only independent publishers). At that time, the first American and English feminist authors were being translated. Some books arouse my attention: Patriarchal Attitudes (1970) by Eva Figes, Witches, Midwives and Nurses by B. Ehrenreich and D. English, A Literature of One’s own by E. Showalter and, a little bit later, A Feeling for the Organism, by E. Fox Keller on Nobel Prize Barbara McClintock. It was then that my commitment to translating/publishing began as editor-in-chief for a series of books by women. I was exploring different paths to find answers to the reasons why we as women were always treated as second class citizens. In the 1990s, with a friend of mine and our two children, we decided to travel to Australia (to attend the 6th International Feminist Book Fair in Melbourne, July 1994), which was destined to open a new horizon in my search. All of a sudden, while visiting a small museum in Alice Springs that housed a collection of the work of T.G.H. Strehlow on the Aranda culture of central Australia, I discovered the indigenous vision of life/nature/religion. What most touched me was their vision of life centred on female and male complexes of myths, traditions, and rituals, both of equal importance and handed down by separate lines of transmission. More so, “creation” was not something that happened once at the beginning of time, but something that needs to be re-created, day after day. No transcendent God the Father, no dogmas to believe in. I embarked on the path of the Sacred Feminine, that is a radically different vision of the terrain occupied by monotheistic male religions in Europe and elsewhere. Another cosmos-vision (or cosmic-vision), another set of values, another place for women, conceived from the ancient past, were possible! I had found the spiritual dimension which I had missed as I was becoming an adult, the dimension where the basic questions about the sense of life can be posed and answered, and which informs the social, economic, cultural, and religious assets of a people. The dimension that had been refused by my materialistic generation as it sought to launch a Marxist revolution. When I returned to small and crowded Europe, I began investigating shamanic practices, while devouring books written by the pioneer women anthropologists and theologians of the 1970s and, eventually, The Language of the Goddess by Marija Gimbutas. The focus of my research became reconstructing Her-story (or History before the advent of patriarchy), reclaiming a cosmos-biological vision of the “divine in nature” (or “inclusive transcendence” in the words of the radical feminist Mary Daly), investigating myths and symbols of societies with “women at the centre”. In perfect synchronicity, I read Mary Daly’s Quintessence, got in touch with her and she came to Italy twice (invited to conferences in Milano, 2002, and Bologna, 2004). The translation of her book opened a new series of books dedicated to women’s history and spirituality, that still endures, Le Civette Saggi, for the independent publisher Venexia Editrice, in Roma. In the following years, the works of many women authors, including Merlin Stone, Vicki Noble, Marija Gimbutas, Starhawk, Tsultrim Allione, Phyllis Currott, Kathy Jones, Genevieve Vaughan, Heide Goettner-Abendroth—and many others—I apologize for not quoting here—have been made available to Italian readers. In more recent years, with the Laima Association, the International Indigenous Cultures of Peace conferences have been organized in Torino (2012, 2013, 2015) and in Rome (in honor of Marija Gimbutas, 20 years after her death, 2014) and now and then I’m invited to speak at international conferences, as in 2015 to the Parliament of World Religions, in Salt Lake City, USA or in 2016 to the Goddess Conference in Glastonbury, Great Britain. At the Culture Indigene di Pace Conference, Torino, 2012 Hwang How and why do you study the topics of Creatrix and matricentric/gynocentric cosmogony? What are your insights? Percovich The twentieth century has been a crucial century for the re-emergence of the Goddess, and our generation was the first to become fully educated, which means that we finally had access to all the fields that, until that moment in time, had been reserved only to men. Just these two factors, the “unexpected in history” (Carla Lonzi), are proving to be an explosive mixture, able to re-open questions that the patriarchies of the West had vainly thought to have eliminated forever during the …
(Essay 2) Baba Part II: The Drowned Girls (A tale of Vasilisa) by Jillian Parker

With a sudden clatter, Marya, Varya, Darya, Varya, and Zarya began to shift back and forth on the table, as if attempting to dance, and they squeaked all at once, “You’d better take us outside to see Vasilisa.” So Vera, with fumbling fingers, assembled the dolls in their proper order, slipped them into her apron pocket, grabbed her own coat, and donned her own summer shoes, which, like Vasilisa’s, were plaited from birch bark.
(Novel 2) The Singing of Swans by Mary Saracino

Note: This is an excerpt from the first chapter in Mary Saracino’s novel, The Singing of Swans (Pearlsong Press 2006). Used by permission from the publisher. For more information, visit http://www.pearlsong.com/thesingingofswans.htm Chapter 1 continued. Read part 1. Night Riders Four times a year, on the Ember Days this benevolent tribe took leave of their mortal bodies to do battle with their archenemies — the Malandanti — the ones who had perverted their supernatural gifts in the pursuit of power and greed. Theirs was a battle as ancient as time. Every three months these opposing forces engaged in ritual combat. The livelihood and protection of their townsfolk lay in the hands of Ziza and her band of Benandanti warriors. This night they would affect the outcome of the grain, the vineyards, the livestock. Would there be enough wheat to reap and store? Enough grain to grind into flour to make bread and pasta? Would it be enough to see their village through the long winter? Would the grapes ripen and yield exquisite wine? Would the sheep and cattle give birth to healthy offspring, provide sufficient milk, supply ample meat when it came time for slaughter? It was yet to be determined. Would these Benandanti be brave enough, strong enough to overcome the Malandanti? Health and harmony ruled when the Benandanti were victorious. Empty storage bins, sparse larders, inadequate libation, even starvation held sway when the Malandanti triumphed. This night of nights it would be decided. On a stretch of stony field, at the stroke of midnight, on the night before the new moon, the battle would be waged. In the darkness the factions would fight until one side overcame the other, driving them to the riverbed in defeat. Matters of life and death hung in the balance. For centuries it had been this way. And the score was far from even. Ziza and her compatriots slipped through the coal-black silence like night geese, joined by others en route to their farmland battleground. Paolo the eldest of their town’s Streghe, placed the Benandanti banner in Ziza’s right hand. Its white silk fabric, embroidered with a golden lion, instilled courage in the hearts of these soldiers of good. In her left hand, Ziza gripped a stalk of fennel. As was the custom, this herb was to be her warrior’s saber, for fennel was sacred to St. Lucy, the patron of the blind and of deeper ways of seeing. Streghe, such as Ziza and her Benandanti companions, revered Lucy, not as a Catholic saint — although they made pretense to do so to assuage those in the Church who would condemn them as heretics. No, Ziza and her kind cherished an earlier, lesser known manifestation of Santa Lucia, the Mighty Goddess, Isis, one of the many pre-Christian manifestations of the Divine Mother. They honored the time before God dwelt solely in the realms of the masculine, a time before the female voice of spirit was silenced and forgotten. With a furious wave, the Benandanti shook their fennel stalks at the air, invoking their Protector. They beseeched St. Lucy, imploring her to shed light on their endeavors and guide their battle through the waning, moonless night. Across the field, the Malandanti hovered behind their banner of red silk and raven-colored wolves. Ready with their sabers of sorghum stalks they chanted to rouse their courage. The wind howled and the leaves swirled around them. Stands of oak and olive trees witnessed the impending struggle. Night creatures big and small gathered to watch. The Benandanti sounded a collective whoop and charged over the wheat field at their enemy. Fennel slashed through the night sky; sorghum tore at the air. Stalk chafed against stalk as the wind moaned. Banners waved and spirits cried out, wounded and weary. The air was foggy with groans and dusty with plant residue. Benandanti clashed with Malandanti. All were swift and brave, strong and determined.
(Essay) Mary as Christian Goddess by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This is an edited version of a radio program by the author in 1994, on 2BLU 89.1 FM, Blue Mountains, Australia, in the context of a series called “Remembering the Great Mother”. It could be said, and has been said, that Goddess has survived through the Christianization of many global cultures, as Mary. Geoffrey Ashe in his book The Virgin argues that the world’s nostalgia for a Mother Goddess created a place in theology for Mary, the mother of Jesus. He cites evidence that Mariology was a religion in its own right … the people offered bread in her name; as they had always done in the name of various Great Goddesses. According to Ashe, the Christian church of the fifth century integrated into itself the flourishing Mariology, thus taking the sting out of a rival religion and co-incidentally building itself up in a time of chaos and weakness. Mary, as mother, as womb, represented refuge in an age of peril and insecurity. It was well received by the people when the church proclaimed Mary as the Mother of God at 431 C.E. in Ephesus. Geoffrey Ashe argues that the struggling Christianity would not have survived that period without the swallowing of its “shadow religion”, which he says “filled the gap between earth and heaven, satisfied ancient needs, fulfilled ancient myths, which Jesus (on his own) could not.”[1] Marina Warner, in her book Alone of All Her Sex, also notes that veneration of Mary was encouraged at “times of stress and entrenchment”.[2]
(Essay) Ceremonial Celebrants as Evocators of Presence by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This article is an edited excerpt from Chapter 6 of the author’s book PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion. Gathering for Lammas ceremony, MoonCourt, 2016 In presiding as Mistress of Ceremonies/Priestess in the Seasonal ceremonies that I facilitated over the years, I have been conscious of the importance of my voice, my invocation of the reality of which I speak, when I speak. Spoken words – everyday ones – are actually always an invocation, a spelling of reality, but in ceremony/ritual this may become more conscious. The celebrant and/or co-celebrants are participating in the calling forth of Presence; within the consciousness of those present: calling forth this sacred depth. They will be enabled in that process by prior meditations upon, and awareness of, the truth of the Poetry they speak. They will also be enabled by the confident use of their breath and voice; and for many, this capacity would be enhanced with some singing or voice lessons, and expressive therapies (since so many of us are well-schooled in self-abnegation). Then when there is confidence in the self-expression and in understanding of the Poetry, in their voice: ” … the meaning is inseparable from the sound, the shape, and the rhythm of the words … it remains rooted in the sensual dimension of experience, born of the body’s native capacity to resonate with other bodies and with the landscape as a whole[i].” All others present participate in the calling forth of this Presence, in themselves and in others, and may take roles in this regard in some of the processes. It is my understanding that the Poetry itself has its own integrity, as does the speaker, and as do the recipients; the Poetry is not a monolithic inert slab of information, It speaks to our depths in a relational particularity – each person “selecting” Its valency for them. As Charlene Spretnak tells it in States of Grace: in the ceremonial creation of sacred space, the narrator and listener become “engaged witnesses, weavers of a web of being” where articulations of mythic dramas are “acts of relation that place all participants in deep accord with the life processes of the unfolding universe[ii].” The role of priestess or celebrant is a deeply relational role; it is not just putting out questions, statements. She is evoking, drawing forth, and is already in response to the particular person’s being – how they “select”/elicit a particular approach from her. The celebrant or co-celebrant listens deeply to the response, so the person is received. Sometimes, a particular invocation/blessing may be passed around the entire group, allowing individuals the opportunity to bless another, and to speak it. This kind of participation may also be structured into the creation of the sacred space – the remembering of the elements of Water, Fire, Earth and Air – whenever possible, enabling individuals to practice speaking with or “to the world”, instead of about it[iii]; that is, to practice relationship, which I understand to be the essence of PaGaian ceremony. NOTES: [i] David Abram, The Spell of the Sensuous,p.74-75. [ii] Charlene Spretnak, States of Grace, p.141. [iii] David Abram, The Spell of the Sensuous,p.71. REFERENCES: Abram, David. The Spell of the Sensuous. New York: Vintage Books, 1997. Livingstone, Glenys. PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion. NE: iUniverse, 2005. Spretnak, Charlene.States of Grace: The Recovery of Meaning in the Postmodern Age. San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1993.
(Mago Pilgrimage 3) Seonam-sa (Seonam Temple), Suncheon, South Jeolla Korea by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

Seonsam-sa, located in Suncheon City, South Jeolla Province, is one of many ancient Buddhist temples in Korea. It is among the seven Korean Buddhist temples designated as UNESCO World Cultural Heritage Sites this year. I visited Seonam-sa during the Mago Pilgrimage to Korea in 2014. The name, Seonsam-sa (仙巖寺 Seonam Temple), drew my attention immediately for the first two characters “seon (read sun)” and “am (read ahm)” of its title convey Magoism. It remains esoteric that Seon-am (仙巖 Precipice of Seon) is an alternative of Mago-am (Precipice of Mago) also known as Nogo-am (Precipice of Nogo). “Nogo” (老姑 Primordial Goddess) is a popular epithet, which is often interchangeably used with “Mago” in place-names and folktales. That said, the character “seon or xian (仙)” refers to Magoists rather than Daoist Immortals, a topic that requires another space to explicate. Fork traditions have preserved its Magoist meaning (Mago or Magoist) in place-names and stories. One prominent exmaple is “Mago Seonnyeo” to convey a Maogist Female Seon. Below I use it as Seon without transliteration. It is rarely recognized by the public that Seonam-sa is imbued with Magoist mytho-historical-cultural memories. This is not to say that Korean Buddhist temples are as a whole independent of Magoism. I have discussed, among others, that the main hall (Daeung-jeon) of many Korean Buddhist temples is dedicated to Goma, the Magoist shaman queen founder of Danguk (3898-2333 BCE), also known as Daeung (Great Hero), as follows: Korean Buddhism is characterized by its idiosyncratic feature of Daeung-jeon (Hall of the Great Hero), its main building, in most Buddhist temples. That Goma is enshrined in Daeung-jeon accounts for the Magoist root of Korean Buddhism.[1] Seonsam-sa has some intriguing unorthodox Buddhist characters. While its foundation is debated to be in the mid 6th century by Ado Hwasang in 592 or the second half of the 9th century by Monk Doseon (827-898), we have stories about Monk Doseon , the alleged founder. Monk Doseon, according to the story, had a revelation from the Heavenly Ruler of the Holy Mother (聖母天王) of Mt. Jiri who told him “If you establish three Amsas (Precipice Temples), Three Hans will unite and there will be no wars.” Doseon founded the three precipice temples known as Seonam (Seon Precipice), Unam (Cloud Precipice), and Yongam (Drago Precipice).[2] Three Hans (Samhan) refers to the descendants of Old Joseon (ca. 2333-232 BCE), the Magoist people of ancient Korean states including Goguryeo, Baekje, Silla, Gaya and their remnants who sought to restore the bygone rule of Magoist confederacies.[3] In short, the foundation story of Seonamsa reflects the mytho-history of Magoism. Also intriguing is the fact that Seonam-sa has Seungseon-gyo (Bridge of the Ascended Seon) and Gangseon-ru (Pavilion of the Descended Seon), which are evocative of such Magoist place-names as Mangsoen-gyo (Bridge of Anticipated Seon) and Biseon-dae (Point of Ascending Seon), to name a few. In addition, Seonam-sa is, among numerous halls and shrines, noted for Sansin-gak (Mountain Deity Pavilion) and Samseong-gak (Three Sages Pavilion), the indigenous faith practices that are incorporated in a Buddhist temple. We were enrolled in Seonam-sa’s Temple Stay. Later I detected that the monk who guided us was unenthused about our interests in indigenous elements of Seonam-sa. Out of honesty, he mentioned that Seonam-sa needed to purge itself of indigenous shrines. It was sad to hear that but I could see where he was coming from. It appeared that monks were not all in agreement with him, however. Our visit to Seonsam-sa seemed to end with a somewhat uneasy stroll with the monk. Lo and behold! As we were about to leave the temple, we ran into a female Buddhist novice who took interest in our queries. Together with her, we hurriedly payed visit to Sansin-gak and a couple of indigenous shines located in the backside of the main sectors. While on a brief leisurely stroll with our new guide, she finally led us to an unlikely place, the unseen heart of Seanam-sa by the public. She showed us the place wherein monks gather to begin Dong-angeo (Winter Retreat), an annual three-month-long winter medication practice. Inside this ordinary-looking Korean traditional house was a traditional style kitchen stove. Above the big iron cast cooking pot was hung a tablet that reads “Nammu Jowangsinwi,” which means “Take refuge in Jowang Deity who is present here.” Faith in Jowang Deity was still alive among Buddhist monks!!! Jowang-sin or Jowang Halmi, the Kitchen Goddess or the Hearth Goddess, is one of the many indigenous Goddesses of Korea. It is known today that she was enshrined in the kitchen and widely venerated by women in the past. Today, She is still worshipped in Muism (Korean Shamanism) as the deity of fire, children, and wealth of the household. (Meet Mago Contributor) Helen Hye-Sook Hwang. Notes [1] Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, “Goma, the Shaman Ruler of Old Magoist East Asia/Korea, and Her Mythology” in Goddesses in Myth, History and Culture (Lytle Creek, CA: Mago Books), 293. [2] Sanghyeon Kim, “Suncheon Seonam-sa,” in Hanguk Daebaekgwa Sajeon (Encyclopedia of Korean Culture). http://encykorea.aks.ac.kr/Contents/Item/E0028783/. August 12, 2018. [3] Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, “Mago, the Creatrix from East Asia, and the Mytho-History of Magoism” in Goddesses in Myth, History and Culture (Lytle Creek, CA: Mago Books), 29-34.
(Poem) To Befana Baubo by Susan Hawthorne

the hours of talk were long and they have agreement Baubo is leading a morning ritual she is flanked by Demeter and Medusa it begins as a low belly rumble releases into a wide open laugh laughter ricochets around the circle infecting each one of us Baubo makes Demeter laugh again Medusa laughs her head off La Befana is running around with her other half Perchta handing out honeyed figs and dates their broomsticks are for sweeping the sky not sweeping floors we laugh at our pain we laugh to stay sane [Author’s Note: this poem dedicated to Befana (Jan. 4) is from my book ‘Lupa and Lamb’.] Also see it in Celebrating Seasons of the Goddess (Mago Books, 2017). Read (Meet Mago Contributor) Susan Hawthorne

(Review) Journey into Dreamtime by Munya Andrews, reviewed by Glenys Livingstone

Although the term “Dreamtime” is often not considered an adequate translation of the cosmology, religion or spirituality of Indigenous Australians, Munya Andrews of the Bardi people from the Kimberley region of Western Australia, acknowledges this and chooses to name her recently published book with it, explaining that: “I love the term … For me, it conjures up a magical and mysterious world.”, and she feels that the term aligns perfectly with the common global religious concept that Diety is beyond words and human understanding. For me, as Munya Andrews describes “Dreamtime”, it seems resonant with the sense of “ever-present Origins”[1]; that is, original space and time that is omnipresent. This is a space/place that I understand to be referred to as “between the worlds” and “beyond the bounds of space and time”, by Indigenous Europeans (Pagans), a tradition with which I am familiar. I understand it to be a sentient world in which we are immersed actually, and which may be revealed to the observant person in synchronous moments. With practice one may live with clearer everyday connections with this world, and Munya’s book is an important contribution to making those connections from within the cosmology of her people; and for “all beautiful souls to keep the Dreamtime alive”, as she says in the book’s dedication. This book provides informative story that should be part of every Australian’s education at various levels: it lays a groundwork and also elicits deepening understandings. The teachings offered in Journey into Dreamtime should be considered essential knowledge for living on this land named Australia, whereas heretofore most present occupants have often not had easy access to such learning. This very readable and small book provides some basic facts: for example, that there are “250 or so Indigenous nations, each having their own language, their own names and ‘country’ or tribal lands.”; and that terms such as Koori, Nunga or Murri are “pan-Aboriginal” names taken on since colonisation, for the sake of asserting a distinct Indigenous identity, in the face of forced removal from families and land. In the course of the seven chapters Munya develops understanding of Dreamtime, and also understandings of Indigenous Law, Songlines, sacred sites, bush doctors/bush medicine, Rainbow Snake, and Kindredness. I found all of this really helpful, an invitation into a world of being and relationship; and it is told with frequent analogies from Western science and academic and spiritual texts, with which the reader may be more familiar, enabling the bridge into Indigenous science and worldview. There is a list of suggested readings offered, along with links and details for further connection and learning. At the conclusion of each chapter of Journey into Dreamtime there are “Dreamtime Reflections”, posing questions for personal consideration, inviting personal participation and pathways into some actual sense of an alive self in relationship with the alive world described. This book needs to be in spaces/places where everyday people can read it, like waiting rooms of all kinds (where there are frequently Bibles); as well as in every library, and especially Australian libraries. I highly recommend Journey into Dreamtime as an educational resource, for your self, for educational programs, and/or for any group that you may gather. Aunty Munya, as she names herself, has an impressive track record of speaking engagements, mentioned at the conclusion of the book, and invites you to have her speak to your organisation. She describes her life purpose as “to create better understanding and appreciation of Aboriginal people and to leave behind a legacy of Dreamtime wisdom for generations to come.” May it be so, as readers of Journey into Dreamtime absorb its teaching and resources. To order a copy of Journey into Dreamtime visit Evolve Communities NOTES: [1]“ever-present origin” is the English translation of Jean Gebser’s Ursprung und Gegenwart, Stuttgart, Deutsche Verlag, 1966.
(Special Post 1) Why Goddess Feminism, Activism, or Spirituality? A Collective Writing

[Editor’s Note: This was first proposed in The Mago Circle, Facebook Group, on March 6, 2014. We have our voices together below and publish them in sequels. It is an ongoing project and we encourage our reader to join us! Submit yours today to Helen Hwang (magoism@gmail.com). Or visit and contact someone in Return to Mago’s Partner Organizations.] Introduction by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang and Wennifer Lin-Haver Helen Hye-Sook Hwang I am asking each of us to consider writing a sentence or paragraph on “Why Goddess Feminism, Activism, or Spirituality?” This idea is prompted by Wennifer Lin-Haver, Founder of Mother Tree Sanctuary, and I agree that we need to and can create a sort of collective writing on the topic. What we write below will be included and published in The Girl God, Mother Tree Sanctuary, and Return to Mago. As a subaltern minority as we seem at the current point of time, Goddessians/Magoists [the term Mago means the Great Goddess] need to make extra efforts to make our voices and presences exposed to the public and inner circles. Length and style are open. Please also include your name, region/state/country, title, and/or website URL. We strongly encourage you if you are located in a place where Goddessians are rarely around. We intend to make a collective testimonial tapestry of WE as Goddessians/Magoists! Please keep this in your mind and join us in this collective effort. Thank you in advance. March 6, 2014 AF (Archaic Future)! Wennifer Lin-Haver Our “call” started as a conversation between Helen and me where I was expressing to her the real need for Mother Tree Sanctuary to be more articulate with exploring the significance and importance of Goddess in our lives. I was prompted to give such a response, when asked “why” we had to differentiate God and Goddess. “Isn’t everything God?” She asked. And “Isn’t Goddess also God?” “Isn’t it all the same as long was we’re all coming from our ‘higher’ self?” she asked. So I saw this warranted a longer and much deeper discussion. I initially thought I should formulate a response and post it as a Page or Tab in our website, but after some reflection with Helen, I saw how much better it would be if we replied to this question as a diverse and creative collective. I surely do not have all the answers as an individual but perhaps together, we can come up with something more whole, colorful and satisfying. I do hope you will contribute a little something! We are always grateful for all that you have to share.
(Special Post 3) Why Goddess Feminism, Activism, or Spirituality? A Collective Writing

[Editor’s Note: This was first proposed in The Mago Circle, Facebook Group, on March 6, 2014. We have our voices together below and publish them in sequels. It is an ongoing project and we encourage our reader to join us! Submit yours today to Helen Hwang (magoism@gmail.com). Or visit and contact someone in Return to Mago’s Partner Organizations.] Helen Hwang I study and advocate Goddess feminism or Magoism because it is a way of living for me. I find myself in Mago (the Great Goddess) who in turn leads me to the Way wherein I learn how to become the person who I can be. It has to be Mago, the Female Divine, because She is real! She is the Primordial Mother who is the Beginning and the End of everything to us on the planet Earth. She teaches me the real. I can’t negotiate Her to anything less. Helen Hye Sook Hwang, Ph.D. California http://magoism.net Bridget Robertson A Goddessian I was introduced to a form of meditative journeying by a resident in my grandmother’s retirement community. She approached to me. I know she was at least part Native American, and that alone made her the topic of much gossip in the building. Her Rose colored lipstick, deep brown eyes, wrinkles that only helped illuminate her face and a chiffon scarf that matched none of her clothes. I thought she needed help with her groceries. She didn’t. She had me stop the elevator. and directly asked about my looking tired. My response was about being, busy balancing all the areas of my life. In fact I was exhausted doling out time like pieces of pie.

(Essay) Walking with Bb by Sara Wright

Walking with Bb: a story exploring the psychic connection between one woman and her bear. Preface: The black bear – hunting season in Maine is brutal – four months of bear hell – five if one includes the month where hunters can track bears for “practice” with hounds – separate mothers and cubs, terrorize them, tree them and do anything but legally kill them. During the legal slaughter, Hunters bait bears with junk food by putting old donuts etc. in cans and shoot the bear while he or she is eating. Most bears (82 percent) are slaughtered in this manner, the rest are killed by hounding and trapping. The season begins in August and lasts through December. Trapping, by the way, is illegal in every state but Maine. Black bears are hated, and that hatred will, of course, eventually result in their extirpation. I had a shy (male) year old black bear visiting my house this past summer with whom I developed a friendship, and what follows is part of our story: Last Saturday I was walking down the road when I remembered that I had not done my daily “circle of protection” imaging for Bb (standing as he was the day he visited me at the window early in August). When I began to do this another picture of Bb moving on all four feet with his face turned towards mine super-imposed itself over his standing image. I could almost see his expression, but not quite. I didn’t know what this imaging meant beyond that we were communicating in some unknown way, and he was in the area (not a good thing on hunting Saturdays). He had not been coming in most nights and I was worried… That night he came. He is still making nightly visits five days later, the most sequentially consistent visits since September 15th, the day I believed that he had been shot. This experience prompted me to write about telepathy and precognition. It is close to All Hallows and the full Hunter’s moon (Nov 3). I keep listening to Charlie Russell’ story which reminds me that loving bears (especially male bears) is hard, almost a sure recipe for disaster, and that I was not alone in this deep concern for and fear of losing Bb. I can barely stand to remember my other bear losses and I can’t stand feeling them. Even after I wrote about the incident with Bb, the experience seemed to carry a charge that didn’t dissipate. Had I missed something? Next I wrote “Root Healer,” exploring the possibility that as I continued to act as Bb’s “little bear mother” now employing psychic techniques to keep him safe (in some desperation as it was the only means left open to me to protect this very vulnerable yearling), that Bb’s presence might also include a gift for me and that it might involve some kind of root healing for my body because Nature thrives on reciprocity. One idea I missed completely, for it was so obvious. Bb’s image was communicating to me that we were having a psychic conversation in that very moment. It was the first time in three months of imaging protective circles that moved with him that I had confirmation from him that we were communicating effectively in this unknown way. This rarely happens. Normally when I do this kind of work, I just do it. I don’t get direct confirmation that it’s working from the animal itself (except with Lily b). Knowing this helped me make another decision I might not have made so intentionally. The hunting season will last into mid December, and I will be traveling during that last month. I keep thinking that putting actual physical distance between Bb and I might pose more of a threat for his life and I have to remind myself that psychic phenomena are not distance dependent. I should be able to image that protective circle every day and feel that it is working. Bb has already shown me that it can but I fear adding distance because I don’t completely trust my own perceptions.* I suspect believing might be an additional dimension of ensuring success when it comes to psychic protection for this bear. But how do I incorporate belief into a picture that is so clouded with personal/cultural doubt? Half the time I don’t believe myself and virtually no one except Rupert Sheldrake, Iren and Harriet have ever taken my experiences seriously. I have to remind myself that I have done this work many times dealing with doubt and it worked anyway. The point of writing this reflection might be to put me on a new edge of increasing Bb’s odds of survival. If it’s possible that an attitude that embraces believing in what I do could help me protect Bb more effectively until hunting is over and its time for him to den in peace I want to claim it. The question I need to answer now is how to go about moving into a more trusting self as a woman who continues to walk with a bear at her side? The night after I wrote the above paragraph I dream of the doubters in the roles of my parents, and in a friend. I take these dreams seriously as doubters inside me and out. These dreams may be telling me that it is unreasonable to expect me to believe that what I do works when no one else does? The problem with this idea is that on some level I do believe. I feel as if I am walking with this bear, every single day. I think about him constantly. The only thing that got me out of the house yesterday was that he was out of chocolate donuts. Something is intensifying my relationship with Bb although I never see him. I am caught in a field of bear energy and information, perhaps through some version of beauty and the beast. That an archetype is …
Summer Solstice Poiesis by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

Seasonal Wheel of Stones Both Summer and Winter Solstices may be understood as particular celebrations of the Mother/Creator aspect of the Creative Triplicity of the Cosmos (often named as the Triple Goddess). The Solstices are Gateways between the dark and the light parts of the annual cycle of our orbit around Sun; they are both sacred interchanges, celebrating deep relationship, communion, with the peaking of fullness of either dark or light, and the turning into the other. The story is that the Young One/Virgin aspect of Spring has matured and now at Summer Solstice her face changes into the Mother of Summer. Summer Solstice may be understood as a birthing place, as Winter Solstice may also be, but at this time the transiton is from light back into dark, returning to larger self, from whence we come: it is the full opening, the “Great Om”, the Omega. I represent the Summer Solstice on my altar wheel of stones with the Omega-yonic shape of the horseshoe. I take this inspiration from Barbara Walker’s description of the horseshoe in her Woman’s Encyclopaedia of Myths and Secrets, as “Goddess’s symbol of ‘Great Gate’[i]”; and her later connection of it with the Sheil-na-gig yoni display[ii]. Sri Yantra. Ref: A.T. Mann & Jane Lyle, p.75 Summer Solstice is traditonally understood as a celebration of Union between Lover and Beloved, and the deep meaning of that is essentially a Re-Union: of sensed manifest form (the Lover) with All-That-Is (the Beloved). This may be understood as a fullness of expression of this manifest form, the small selves that we are, being all that we may be, and giving of this fullness of being in every moment: that would be a blissful thing, like a Summerland as it was understood to be. The boundaries of the self are broken, they merge: all is given away – all is poured forth, the deep rich dark stream of life flows out. It is a Radiance, the shining forth of the self which is at the same time a give-away, a consuming of the self.In traditional PaGaian Summer ceremony each participant is affirmed as “Gift”[iii]; and that is understood to mean that we are both given and received – all at the same time. The breath is given and life is received. We receive the Gift with each breath in, and we are the Gift with each breath out. As we fulfill our purpose, as we give ourselves over, we dissolve, as the Sun is actually doing in every moment. The “moment of grace”[iv]that is Summer Solstice, marks the stillpoint in the height of Summer, when light reaches its peak, and Earth’s tilt causes the Sun to begin its “decline”: that is, its movement back to the South in the Northern Hemisphere (in June), and back to the North in the Southern Hemisphere (in December). Whereas at Winter Solstice when out of the darkness it is light that is “born”, as it may be expressed: at the peak of Summer, in the warmth of expansion, it is the dark that is “born”. Insofar as Winter Solstice is about birth, then Summer Solstice is about death, the passing into the harvest. It is a celebration of profound mystical significance, which may be confronting in a culture where the dark is not valued for its creative telios; and it is noteworthy that Summer Solstice has not gained any popularity of the kind that Winter Solstice has globally (as ‘Christmas’). The re-union with All-That-Is is not generally considered a jolly affair, though when understood it may actually be blissful. Full Flowers to the Flames Summer is a time when many grains ripen, deciduous trees peak in their greenery, lots of bugs and creatures are bursting with business and creativity: yet in that ripening, is the turning, the fulfilment of creativity, and it is given away. Like the Sun and the wheat and the fruit, we find the purpose of our Creativity in the releasing of it; just as our breath must be released for its purpose of life. The symbolism used to express this in ceremony has been the giving of a full rose/flower to the flames. Summer is like the rose, as it says in this tradition[v]– blossom and thorn … beautiful, fragrant, full – yet it comes with thorns that open the skin. All is given over. All is given over: the feast is for enjoying With the daily giving of ourselves in our everyday acts, we each feed the world with our lives: we do participate in creating the cosmos, as many indigenous traditions still recognise. Just as our everyday lives are built on the fabric of the work/creativity of all who went before us, so the future, as well as the present, is built on ours, no matter how humble we may think our contribution is. We may celebrate the blossoming of our creativity then, which is Creativity, and the bliss of that blossoming, at a time when Earth and Sun are pouring forth their abundance, giving it away. In this Earth-based cosmology, what is given is the self fully realized and celebrated, not a self that is abnegated – just as the fruit gives its full self: as Starhawk says, “Oneness is attained not through losing the self, but through realizing it fully”[vi]. Everyday tasks can be joyful, if valued, and graciously received: I think of Eastern European women singing as they work in the fields – it is a common practice still for many. We are the Bread of Life Summer Solstice celebrates Mother Sun coming to fullness in Her creative engagement with Earth, and we are the Sun. Solstice Moment is a celebration of communion, the feast of life – which is for the enjoying, not for the holding onto. We do desire to be received, to be consumed – it is our joy and our grief. Brian Swimme says: “Every moment of our lives disappears into the ongoing story of the Universe. Our creativity is energising the whole[vii]”. As it may be ceremoniously affirmed: we are (each is) …
(Prose & Photography) Equinox Reflection by Sara Wright

Photography by Sara Wright I gaze out my bedroom window and hear yet another golden apple hit the ground. The vines that hug the cabin and climb up the screens are heavy with unripe grapes and the light that is filtered through the trees in front of the brook is luminous – lime green tipped in gold – My too sensitive eyes are blessedly well protected by this canopy of late summer leaves. The maples on the hill are losing chlorophyll and are painting the hollow with splashes of bittersweet orange and red. The dead spruces by the brook will probably collapse this winter providing Black bears with even more precious ants and larvae to eat in early spring. I only hope that some bears will survive the fall slaughter to return to this black bear sanctuary; in particular two beloved young ones… Mushrooms abound, amanitas, boletes morels, puff balls, the latter two finding their way into my salads. The forest around my house is in an active state of becoming with downed limbs and sprouting fungi becoming next year’s soil. The forest floor smells so sweet that all I can imagine is laying myself down on a bed of mosses to sleep and dream. The garden looks as tired as I am; lily fronds droop, yellowing leaves betraying the season at hand. Bright green pods provide a startling contrast to fading scarlet bee balm. Wild asters are abundant and goldenrod covers the fields with a bright yellow garment. Every wild bush has sprays of berries. My crabapple trees are bowed, each twig heavy with winter fruit. Most of the birds have absconded to the fields that are ripe with the seeds of wild grasses. The mourning doves are an exception – they gather together each dawn waiting patiently for me to fill the feeder. In the evening I am serenaded by soft cooing. One chicken hawk hides in the pine, lying in wait for the unwary…Just a few hummingbirds remain…whirring wings and twittering alert me to continued presence as they settle into the cherry tree to sleep, slipping into a light torpor with these cool September nights… Spiders are spinning their egg cases, even as they prepare to die. I can still find toads hopping around the house during the warmest hours of the day. Although the grass is long I will not mow it for fear of killing these most precious and threatened of species. I am heavily invested in seeing these toads burrow in to see another spring. My little frogs sit on their lily pads seeking the warmth of a dimming afternoon sun. Soon they too will slumber below fallen leaves or mud. I am surrounded by such beauty, and so much harvest bounty that even though I am exhausted I take deep pleasure out of each passing day of this glorious month of September, the month of my birth. Unlike many folks, for me, moving into the dark of the year feels like a blessing. Another leave -taking is almost upon me, and I am having trouble letting go of this small oasis that I have tended with such care for more than thirty years… I don’t know what this winter will bring to my modest cabin whose foundation is crumbling under too much moisture and too many years of heavy snow. In the spring extensive excavation will begin. A new foundation must be poured and this work will destroy the gardens I have loved, the mossy grounds around the south end of the house that I have nurtured for so long. In this season of letting go I must find a way to lay down my fears, and release that which I am powerless to change. Somehow… I have no idea what I will return to except that I have made it clear that none of my beloved trees be harmed. I am grateful that Nature is mirroring back to me so poignantly that letting go is the way through: That this dying can provide a bedrock foundation for another spring birth. As a Daughter of the Earth I lean into ancient wisdom, praying that this exhausted mind and body will be able to follow suit. (Meet Mago Contributor) Sara Wright.
(Essay) Contemplating How Her Creativity Proceeds by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an edited excerpt from the conclusion of chapter 5 of the author’s book, PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion. It is a chapter on the process of the Wheel of the Year. for the Northern Hemisphere version: https://pagaian.org/pagaian-wheel-of-the-year/ It seems to me that the main agenda of the Cosmos is ongoing Creativity, “never-ending renewal” it may be termed, and that this is expressed in Earth’s Seasonal Wheel through the transitions of Autumn,Winter, Spring, Summer; and in the ubiquitous process of a Cosmic Triplicity of Space to Be, Urge to Be and this Place of Being, a dynamic that has often been imagined as the Triple Goddess. In the flow of the PaGaian Wheel of the Year, the Seasonal transitions of the Wheel and the Triplicity of the Cosmos come together. There are two celebrations of the Old One/Crone or the Cosmogenetic quality of autopoiesis creating the Space to Be; and they are Lammas/Late Summer and Samhain/Deep Autumn, which are the meridian points of the two quarters of the waxing dark phase. At Lammas, the first in the dark phase, we may identify with the dark and ancient Wise One – dissolve into Her; at Samhain, we may consciously participate in Her process of the transformation of death/the passing of all. The whole dark part of the cycle is about dissolving/dying/letting go of being – becoming – nurturing it (the midwifing of Lammas/Late Summer), stepping into the power of it (the certain departure of Autumn Equinox/Mabon), the fertility (of Samhain/Deep Autumn), the peaking of it (at Winter Solstice). The meridian points of the two quarters of the waxing light phase then are celebrations of the Young One/Virgin or the Cosmogenetic quality of differentiation, the new continually emerging, the Urge to Be; and they are Imbolc/Early Spring and Beltaine/High Spring. At Imbolc, the first in the light phase, we may identify with She who is shining and new – as we take her form; at Beltaine, we may consciously participate in Her process of the dance of life. The whole light part of the cycle is about coming into being: nurturing it (the midwifing of Imbolc/Early Spring), stepping into the power of it (the certain return of Spring Equinox/Eostar), the fertility (of Beltaine/High Spring), the peaking of it (at Summer Solstice). In the PaGaian wheel of ceremony there are two particular celebrations of the Mother, the Cosmogenetic quality of communion; and they are the Solstices. If one imagines the light part of the cycle as a celebration of the ‘Productions of Time’, and the dark part of the cycle as a celebration of ‘Eternity’, the Solstices then are meeting points, points of interchange, and are celebrations of the communion/relational field of Eternity with the Productions of Time. This is a relationship which does happen in this Place, in this Web. This Place of Being, this Web, is a Communion – it is the Mother; the Solstices mark Her birthings, Her gateways. The Equinoxes then – both Spring and Autumn – are two celebrations wherein the balance of all three Faces/Creative qualities is particularly present: in the PaGaian wheel, the Equinoxes have been special celebrations of Demeter and Persephone – echoing the ancient tradition of Mother-Daughter Mysteries that celebrate the awesomeness of the continuity of life, its creative tension/balance. Both Equinoxes then are celebrations and contemplations of empowerment through deep Wisdom – one contemplation during the dark phase and one during the light phase. The Autumn Equinox is a descent to Wisdom, the Spring Equinox is an emergence with Wisdom gained. I like to think of the Equinoxes, and of the ancient icons of Demeter and Persephone, as celebrations of the delicate ‘curvature of space-time’, the fertile balance of tensions which enables it all. Her Creative Place The Mother aspect then may be understood to be particularly present at four of the Seasonal Moments, which are also regarded traditionally as the Solar festivals; and in this cosmology Sun is felt as Mother. I recognize these four as points of interchange: at Autumn Equinox, Mother is present primarily as Giver – She is letting Persephone go, at Spring Equinox, She is present primarily as Receiver – welcoming the Daughter back, at Winter Solstice the Mother gives birth, creates form, at Summer Solstice, She opens again full of radiance, and disperses form. The Mother is Agent/Actor at the Solstices. She is Participant/Witness at the Equinoxes, where it is then really Persephone who is Agent/Actor, embodying an inseparable Young One and Old One. The Old One is often named as Hecate, who completes the Trio – all seamlessly within each other. Another possible way to visual it, or to tell the story, is this: The Mother – Demeter – is always there, at the Centre if you like. Persephone cycles around. She is the Daughter who returns in the Spring as flower, who will become fruit/grain of the Summer, who at Lammas assents to the dissolution – the consumption. At Autumn Equinox She returns to the underworld as seed – Her harvest is rejoiced in, Her loss is grieved, as She becomes Sovereign of the Underworld – Her face changes to the Dark One, Crone (Hecate). As the wheel turns into the light part of the cycle She becomes Young One/Virgin again. Persephone (as Seed) is that part of Demeter that can be all three aspects – can move through the complete cycle. The Mother and Daughter are really One, and embody the immortal process of creation and destruction. Demeter hands Persephone the wheat, the Mystery, and the thread of life is unbroken – it goes on forever. It is immortal, it is eternal. Even though it is true that all will be lost, and all is lost – Being always arises again: within this field of time there is never-ending renewal, eternity. This is what is revealed in the ubiquitous three faces of the Creative Dynamic/ She of Old, the Triplicity that runs through the Cosmos. The Seed of Life never …
Lammas – the Sacred Consuming by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

Lammas, the first seasonal transition after Summer Solstice, may be summarised as the Season that marks and celebrates the Sacred Consuming, the Harvest of Life. Many indigenous cultures recognised the grain itself as Mother … Corn Mother being one of those images – She who feeds the community, the world, with Her own body: the Corn, the grain, the food, the bread, is Her body. She the Corn Mother, or any other grain Mother, was/is the original sacrifice … no need for extraordinary heroics: it is the nature of Her being. She is sacrificed, consumed, to make the people whole with Her body (as the word “sacrifice” means “to make whole”). She gives Herself in Her fullness to feed the people …. the original Communion. In cultures that preceded agriculture or were perhaps pastoral – hunted or bred animals for food – this cross-quarter day may not have been celebrated, or perhaps it may have been marked in some other way. Yet even in our times when many are not in relationship with the harvest of food directly, we may still be in relationship with our place: Sun and Earth and Moon still do their dance wherever you are, and are indeed the Ground of one’s being here … a good reason to pay attention and homage, and maybe as a result, and in the process, get the essence of one’s life in order. One does not need to go anywhere to make this pilgrimage … simply Place one’s self. The seasonal transition of Lammas may offer that in particular, being a “moment of grace” – as Thomas Berry has named the seasonal transitions, when the dark part of the day begins to grow longer, as the cloak of darkness slowly envelopes the days again: it is timely to reflect on the Dark Cosmos in Whom we are, from Whom we arise and to Whom we return – and upon that moment when like Corn Mother we give ourselves over. This reflection is good, will serve a person and all – to live fully, as well as simply to be who we are: this dark realm of manifesting is the core of who we are. And what difference might such reflection make to our world – personal and collective – to live in this relationship with where we are, and thus who we are. We all are the grain that is harvested and all are Her harvest … perhaps one may use a different metaphor: the truth that may be reflected upon at this seasonal moment after the peaking of Sun’s light at Summer Solstice and the wind down into Autumn, is that everything passes, all fades away … even our Sun shall pass. All is consumed. So What are we part of? (I write it with a capital because surely it is a sacred entity) And how might we participate creatively? We are Food – whether we like it or not … Lammas is a good time to get with the Creative plot, though many find it the most difficult, or focus on more exoteric celebration. May we be interesting food[i]. We are holy Communion, like Corn Mother. Meet Mago Contributor Glenys Livingstone NOTES: [i] This is an expression of cosmologist Brian Swimme in Canticle to the Cosmos DVD series.
(Poetry & Photo Essay) Pongal by Susan Hawthorne

I am a secularist rather than a ritualist, but I can’t help but be drawn into the celebrations that people make when they honour the passing of the seasons. Even as a child I felt the disconnect between Christmas and the hot dusty days of summer. When Christians invaded and colonised Australia they brought their holidays but did not consider changing the dates to match the seasons. I was in India recently, invited as a speaker at the Hindu Lit For Life Festival in Chennai where I had lived ten years ago. The last day of the festival was the first day of Pongal. A friend, feminist economist Devaki Jain, who had grown up in Chennai eighty years earlier invited me to join her in a car ride to see Pongal celebrations in the streets. This is a Tamil festival dating back at least a thousand years, a sun festival, welcoming the next six months of the sun’s journey, also a harvest festival. During this time many women produce beautiful drawings, known as kolam. In my book Cow I wrote a poem about kolam which I think says more than I can explain here. what she says about kolam where they are drawn and when is all important early morning is auspicious it sets the shape of the day the hard ground is cleaned points of white grain sprinkled she works quickly she knows her design for the day runs the powdered grain from point to point it is a mandala a yantra a sign so the forces of the universe align themselves with her intentions Back to Pongal. The festival goes for four days. On the first day, which is called Bhogi, people are on the streets with the fruits of harvest, piles of tumeric and stacks of sugar cane tied in bunches. My friend, Devaki, bought flowers to take back to her room in the hotel. The second day, called Thai Pongal, I was invited to a harvest lunch at the house of my friend Mangai who is a playwright, theatre director and human rights activist. The word ‘pongal’ means ‘boiling over’ or’ overflow’ and I saw this in the cooking of the sweetened rice dish into which each of the twelve people present poured some water and milk as it almost overflowed the pot. This sweet rice dish was added to the collection of other dishes on the table. I cannot tell you what they were, but the meal was delicious. After lunch everyone relaxed, someone sang, we talked and caught up on news. The third day, is called Maatu Pongal, and cattle are at the centre of celebrations on that day. I don’t know if this line up of cattle had anything to do with the day’s celebration but there they were tied up alongside a very busy main road. These were not cows and I did not see any cows with decorated horns and flowers on their heads. on that day as I have on other occasions. On the fourth day, Kaanum Pongal, things begin to wind down. One of my co-speakers at the festival said she would be visiting family members on that day. The kolams are drawn again, sugar cane is consumed and people go back to their daily lives. What I liked about being in Tamil Nadu during the Pongal festival is that it felt absolutely right. The time of the year, the connection with harvest, so I did not feel the discomfort I so often feel in the midst of the out-of-season commercialised holidays as they are celebrated in Australia. Susan Hawthorne’s book Cow is available worldwide from distributors in USA, Canada, UK, from all the usual online retailers or from Spinifex Press. http://www.spinifexpress.com.au/Bookstore/book/id=215/ © Susan Hawthorne, 2019 (Meet Mago Contributor) Susan Hawthorne.

(Photo Essay 5) ‘Gaeyang Halmi, the Sea Goddess of Korea’ by Helen Hwang

Part 5: Gaeyang Halmi, How Does She Relate with Mago? The field research concerning Gaeyang Halmi was undertaken with the thought that Gaeyang Halmi is related to Mago in some way. Such assumption is on the grounds that the folktales of Gaeyang Halmi and Mago Halmi substantively share the same motifs. In fact, I had thought Gaeyang Halmi is another name of Mago Halmi. A scrutiny has proven that the picture of their correlation is far more complex than I first envisaged, exposing the hidden nexuses of Old Magoism. This last part aims at disentangling the grips. It is indispensable for me to invite my readers to the task of reconstructing ancient East Asian mytho-history. Gaeyang Halmi embodies a partial manifestation of Mago as the Sea Goddess. Nonetheless, such a statement lacks complex subtexts that this topic involves. The Gurang (Nine Maidens) mytheme of Gaeyang Halmi sheds light on the mytho-history of Old Magoism (read Magoism in pre- and proto-Chinese times characterized by shaman rulers). To be specific, Gaeyang Halmi in the gurang pantheon suggests a yet-to-be-known shaman ruler, “Ungnyeo” (Bear/Sovereign Woman), founder of the confederacy of the nine states, which I call Danguk (ca. 3898 BCE-2333 BCE). The gurang represented by Gaeyang Halmi is no small clue to the pervasive yet misunderstood civilization of Ungnyeo. “Ungnyeo” is eponymous of the female symbolism of nine, such as the nine-tailed fox in East Asia and the nine muses and the nine forms of Durga beyond East Asia mentioned in Part IV. In short, Gaeyang Halmi oscillating between “Mago” and “Ungnyeo” in Her identity testifies to the suppressed history of Old Magoism. Methodically, I have two types of mythological texts to decipher the overtones of Gaeyang Halmi’s mytheme: folklore (oral narratives) and the written myth. Goddess mythemes, malleable yet immortal, constitute the grammar blocks of the gynocentric language that often appears “awkward” if not “ridiculous” to moderns. They need to be analyzed and interpreted. Feminist techniques are apt to sort out the sediments and decipher the diastrophic disturbances caused by patriarchal advances in the course of time. Some parallels between Gaeyang Halmi and Mago Halmi folk stories are overt. Their stories are so similar that they appear to be an identical goddess: A: The motif that Gaeyang Halmi walks on the sea, often described as wearing namak-sin (wooden shoes) or only beoseon (Korean traditional socks), is also commonly told in Mago stories especially from Jeju Island[i] and other coastal regions. B: That Gaeyang Halmi walks around in the sea to measure its depth is also told in the stories of Mago from other coastal regions. C: The mytheme that Gaeyang Halmi had eight daughters recurs in the stories of Mago, especially from the region of Mt. Jiri. Mago is said to have had eight daughters and sent them to eight provinces. Given the above, it is evident that Gaeyang Halmi lore resembles that of Mago. Were the populace confused about these two goddesses? I hold that the confusion was not a mistake but a way to convey that Gaeyang Halmi is related to Magoism rather than Mago Herself. In folklore, “why” and “how”are the questions to be interpreted, not to be read.
(Essay 3) The Magoist Calendar: Mago Time inscribed in Sonic Numerology by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

[Author’s Note: This is my latest research that has led me to restore the 13-month, 28-day Mago Calendar, which will be included at the end of its sequels. See Mago Almanac: 13 Month 28 Day Calendar (Book A), published in 2017.] THE SECOND CALENDAR Then, the Earth had increasingly so much work in all regions. Biodiversity went overboard. The terrestrial song became uncontrollable. The initial calendar became defunct. Lifeforms were left uncoordinated. The Earth fell into disorder, as she had no one to tune the song of earthlings in harmony with the cosmic music of creativity. The Earth was in need of sentient beings who could undertake the task. Mago’s descendants were to be born. Humans were entrusted to cultivate the earthly sound property by the Nine Mago Creatrix. The Budoji writes:
(Photo Essay 4) ‘Gaeyang Halmi, the Sea Goddess of Korea’ by Helen Hwang

Part IV: Revival of the Gurang (Nine Maidens) Gaeyang Halmi There is more to reveal. As I write this part of the photo essay, I have encountered new information, previously made available online by individuals and organizations. It is reported that the “Suseong-dang” (水聖堂, Sea Saint Shrine) was once called the “Gurang-sa” (九娘祠, Nine Maidens Shine), of which I never heard before.[i] That Suseong-dang is a fake name blew my mind! Note the difference of gender between “the Nine Maidens Shrine” and “the Sea Saint Shrine”! The female-connoted term was stolen just like that! “Gurang-sa,” a female-referenced term as the character “rang” means a maiden, had to go due to its overt female representation. It is not without grounds that I was taken aback to see its present logography, “the Sea Saint Shrine,” on the information board.[ii] I almost heard a voice warning me, “This is not the place that you think it is!” That voice attempted to force me to leave the place without further investigation. However, I intuitively took a mental note, “Something is not correct here.” And I was right! Its name change sheds a consistent light on the meddling of patriarchal distortion/deception done to the tradition of Gaeyang Halmi. Readers are reminded of the lost painting of Gaeyang Halmi, which was replaced by that of the Sea God explicated in Part 2 of this photo essay (also Part 3). Like “the Sea God,” “the Suseong-dang” constitutes no reality. It is not only a conceptual deception but also a theft of the intangible cultural heritage, righteously committed by faceless patriarchal men disappeared into the lapse of time. It is clear that systematic erasure of the Female/Goddess has been in operation. Female power embodied whether in the name of the shrine or in the iconography was stripped away. However, it is proven once again that the Female is immortal because it constitutes the root of patriarchy. People smuggled the forbidden knowledge of the Female to later generations through oral stories. Thus, we find the folklore of the Female subversive.