May 19, 2017October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Poem) Lavender by Andrea Nicki

You have come to understand that if women are like flowers you are most like lavender: wild, earthly, resilient, abundant

(Book Excerpt 3) Nun too Clever by Elaine Drew

[An excerpt from the the mystery novel Nun Too Clever, which looks at what life as a queen was really like for the fairytale maiden who landed the prince.] “Let’s start at the beginning,” I suggested. “What was Elfwinne doing here?” “Her relatives brought her when her husband died.” “Why?” I wondered. At last I had her attention. “I don’t know. Maybe she didn’t want to remarry, and they didn’t want to take care of her. I admit I thought, at first, that her calling was a whisper rather than a shout, but over time she proved me wrong. Elfwinne prayed alone, day after day, kneeling on the hard clay of the stable.” “I can believe she was on her knees in a stable,” I said, “but I somehow doubt she was praying.” I got a withering look. I am used to it from Athelflad. I persisted. “Why pray alone? Why did she prefer the stench of livestock to the serenity of the chapel?” “She had her reasons.” “Do you know what they were?” Athelflad sighed. She wasn’t in the mood to explain. Instead she recited this history: “One morning the abbess noticed that Elfwinne had missed lauds, prime, and terce. Naturally, Mother was concerned. And angry at what looked like shirking. Mother demanded to know where she had been.” Athelflad set down her pen and drummed on the writing table. “Elfwinne said she had been praying in the stable.” I pressed her. “I suppose she had good cause?” “She did, even if it isn’t anything you can understand.” Athelflad was too upset to think clearly, but I would be a poor Christian if I didn’t believe that redemption is possible. I suspended disbelief. Maybe Elfwinne had changed. I shut up and let Athelflad tell the story as she saw it. “Elfwinne,” she said, “confessed an early life of dissolution. She grew up in the Mercian court, the child of the king’s mistress. After years of witnessing bad behaviour, she succumbed to wickedness. She knew nothing else. She didn’t fear God.” “That Elfwinne rings a bell,” I said. “Elfwinne cried and begged to be allowed this indulgence.” This sounded logical, maybe too logical. Is redemption that straightforward? Athelflad was still talking. “Elfwinne said it was an exercise in humility that she needed after the years she had spent at court. You could learn from her, Cynethrith.” Was Athelflad trying to convince me that Elfwinne was on the up and up, or did that barb cover her own bothersome ambivalence? “Did anyone expect Elfwinne to die?” I asked. “Had she been ill?” “No.” Athelflad picked up her pen and tapped it sharply on the parchment, splattering tiny droplets of ink. She stared at them. “She was robust.” “Am I to assume that Elfwinne had become so holy that God decided He must have her immediately?” Her mouth turned down. “Yes,” she said, as if that settled it. “That must be it.” “Tell me what happened. Don’t leave anything out.” “There isn’t much to tell. The bishop, stabling his horse, spotted her body prone on the floor. He raised an alarm. There was nothing we could do.” “When can I see the body?” “It’s too late. We buried her immediately.” “Why the rush?” I asked. “The bishop thought we should. He said there might be devilish spirits hovering, trying to claim someone so saintly. He said it was by God’s grace that he had happened along, since he could officiate.” Athelflad hadn’t told me everything. “There’s something else,” I said. “Yes,” she admitted. “Let’s hear it.” “We suffered another loss yesterday. It’s wrong to equate the two, but I can’t help it. Elfwinne’s death was the second dreadful thing that happened. I know God grants suffering to those He loves, and I accept it with all my heart—” She started to cry. I hugged her and prayed God might agree that she had suffered enough for a while. She went on. “This morning we realised that St. Eugenia was gone.” St. Eugenia is a reliquary. The sisters love her with the fervent devotion of an infant for her mother. She is the comforter, the one who loves us with all our imperfections. From the day of her arrival, St. Eugenia has presided in a place of honour in the chapel. There sat the gold and bejewelled saint, dressed in the men’s clothing she preferred, for as long as I could remember. An opening in the back of her head, which sadly the living saint lost in her martyrdom, contained two of her teeth, four thorns from Christ’s crown, and two hairs from the coat of St. Jerome’s lion. St. Eugenia brought pilgrims from all Wessex to the abbey, and many of them, proclaiming the saint’s miraculous healing powers, filled the abbey’s coffers with their offerings. The loss, both spiritual and material, was considerable. (End of the Excerpt) https://www.magoism.net/2013/07/meet-mago-contributor-elaine-drew/
(Poem) Butterflies, Goddess, Love, and Freedom by Carolyn Lee Boyd

Photo credit: By Michele Castagnetti, CC BY-SA 4.0 Wikimedia Commons This poem revolves around three actual events: a couple of months ago I was lying under a rose scented geranium when what looked like a caterpillar dropped into my hair (though inside in winter, which means it couldn’t have been an actual caterpillar and I still don’t know what it was, rather than outside in summer), while I was sitting at my mother’s bedside as she was dying I heard the melody from Madama Butterfly and felt deeply comforted, and, finally, a friend told me the story of how she was watching a monarch butterfly fly for the first time and, just as it lifted off, a flock of monarchs arrived and they all flew off together. When I put the three events together, the message of this poem appeared. In a bold moment, risking oblivion for being’s adventure,The milky caterpillar unfurled her grasp on the leaf,Her emerald rose geranium nursery, and flung herselfLike a trapeze artist, into the swirling maelstrom of my hair, My Medusa’s snake strands winding and waving even at rest to catch herAs I lay on the cool, verdant Earth watching the roiling clouds. I had called the butterflies, the dragonflies and damselflies, the beesTo my garden, enticing with fragrant, nutritious milkweed, motherwort, Jerusalem artichoke.The mother butterfly answered with the gift of her larvae before heading home.I promised her I would lie on the ground, her child in the tangle of my hair,The place where women’s spiritual power nests.I promised her I would be still and comforting until the baby’s summer birth,My hands reaching into the soil and clasping fingers with the mycelium,Sending out the message that I am here for the duration.My eyes dim from the sunlight. My water evaporates to the heavens. To the ancient Greeks, the butterfly is the goddess Psyche, the soul,Essence of beauty and mother of joy.To the Nahua people in Mexico, the butterfly is the goddess Itzpapalotl, the soul,Who wears the symbols of death tattooed on Her face. Many years ago, as I sat vigil at my mother’s side while she was dying,I heard the melody from opera Madama Butterfly.It originated not from this realm,But from the portal opening for her to pass through,A leaving from this life that she loved but which was hers no more.Love is eternal. From that time, butterflies have symbolized to me grief and lossEven as I have craved witnessing their wings beating the air,Circling the garden’s blooms and berries.For years I have tried in vain to lure butterflies to my garden.Did they sense my bereavement and feel unwelcomeUntil now, right at this very moment? Outstretched on the embracing wet soil,The breath of herbs and grass soothing me,I have finally gained the message that my mother tendered to meIn the melody that had brought to my mind in that sad moment the flight of butterflies.“Freedom, freedom,” she had coaxed the angels to sing to me,In words untranslated for me till now.Like the butterflies breaking out of their cocoons,“With a mother’s love, with a Goddess’s love, with the Earth’s love,You are free. We could want no more and no less for you.” A butterfly rises from my hair, fluttering against my cheek.For one moment we see each other. She has human eyes,My mother’s eyes that are also my eyes,So that my mother lives on in me.The baby-no-more dries her wings as a flock of sister butterflies surrounds us.They fly away together and none looks back. I try to fly with them by willing my feet to rise into the skyBut I am heavy and earthbound.Now I am fully human, my fingers no longer part of the mycelium,My eyes no longer dim from the sunlight, my body no longer wet from dew.I take up my life again, myself but also more,With dried wings made not of filament, but of flesh and soul. Hello? Have you come to visit? Please, sit in my garden. We’ll have a cup of tea. We’ll chat. How are you? Did you know that butterflies have just come back to my garden this year? I welcome them when they come and wish them adieu when it is time for them to fly away. What else can I do? https://www.magoism.net/2016/08/meet-mago-contributor-carolyn-lee-boyd/
(Essay 2) We Need to Talk Frankly About Sexual Abuse in Paganism by Francesca Tronetti, Ph.D.

The non-structured nature of Pagan worship allows for many interpretations of beliefs and practices which can be very confusing to a newcomer. There is no master list of certified pagan groups, recognized and overseen by a committee to ensure that the teachings and practices of the group follow set standards. Pagan leaders don’t go to a seminary or receive a master’s in divinity. There is no Confederation of Pagan Churches, to investigate and police the actions of groups. This lack of oversight and accountability can enable evil individuals to make claims that they know the “true” spiritual path and draw in unsuspecting followers to abuse them. I came to Goddess paganism in the early 2000’s, and I remember a song a friend downloaded and shared with me. This friend had a large collection of pagan music, and we loved listening to it. The song was called “Witch War,” and some of the lyrics that I still remember were: So you’re a mystic sister, and you’ve been through puberty/And you think you might be pagan and you want community… he calls himself an elder but he’s only 23…. He takes you to a house, and the priest gives you a shove’in/Says if you f*** my friends and me we’ll let you in our coven/Cause we like polyamory and lots of carnal loving/ And if you want a family we’ll put one in your oven. As you might have guessed this song was more of a joke, like the Mountie Song. But satire is always based on some truth, and other pagans I have known have told me stories that make this seem more like a cautionary tale than a drinking song. A bisexual friend told me about a polyamorous pagan group she had once been part of where pressure was put on members, of both sexes, to engage in sex with the male and female leaders of the group. And she had heard the same stories from other pagans about other groups. Because there are no certification or membership requirements for forming a coven or group it is difficult to say if a leader is lying or making up a practice or belief system out of whole cloth. Especially since most discussions of Paganism take place on website and blog pages and many books are self-published. Now I don’t believe that we need a structure like that of Christianity, Judaism, or Islam. Paganism can continue to exist as individuals or independent groups. This is how it has been throughout history even in societies like Rome or Greece. There was no Pope or high council making sure everyone was worshipping in the same way. The festivals had the same names, and that was enough for the people. But we do need to be faster to address and acknowledge bad behavior among ourselves, and especially from our leaders. In past years, there have been multiple instances of Pagans in “leadership” positions and well-respected Pagans abusing their power. Gavin and Yvonne Frost wrote the Good Witch’s Bible in 1972 and were leaders in Paganism since the early 1970s. In chapter 4 of Good Witch’s Bible, they advocated for pedophilia and incest. The Frosts were confronted, and they threatened to sue their accusers to scare them into silence. Even today some in the Pagan community said that the Frost’s crimes should not be discussed because, again, it played into the narrative of Pagans as child abusers. Even after their support of pedophilia became widely known they were still invited to speak at large Pagan gatherings and lectures. Within Paganism there needs to be a concerted movement to address issues and allegations of sexual abuse of children and adults as well as emotional manipulation and spiritual abuse. By taking immediate action, we can hold a moral high ground and keep ourselves safe. If we, as individuals, can reconcile the truth, that some people will use any religion as a means of gaining access to victims, we can make it easier for others to report problems. Maybe you have been reading a blog by a self-proclaimed “high priest” who pushes members to engage in sex with him; maybe you heard a story from a friend about a creeper at a festival; maybe there is a family where the father talks about guiding his daughters into their sexual awakening. We need to talk openly, warn each other, and engage with law enforcement and other authorities when necessary. Then if someone calls us child molesters we can proudly say, “we report abusers in our community, how about you?” The high road is easy to claim when you are already doing the right thing. (End of the essay) (Meet Mago Contributor) Rev. Francesca Tronetti Ph.D.
(Essay) Beyond the Veil by Kaalii Cargill

The original Greek word for apocalypse – apokalypsis – does not mean “end times”. It means “to unveil”. This is the apocalypse we are living through: a process of unveiling and revealing. Patriarchy is not inevitable. It is not sustainable. If we are to survive and thrive as a species, we must first reveal it, and then undo it: in our systems, and in ourselves. Jess Hill, 2020, Privilege, power, patriarchy: are these the reason for the mess we’re in? https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2020/oct/18/privilege-power-patriarchy-are-these-the-reasons-for-the-mess-were-in Threshold of Corycian Cave, Mt Parnassus, Greece. Kaalii Cargill, 2015. When I read these potent words by Jess Hill, I pondered how it is that I reveal and undo patriarchy in my everyday life. This is what came to me: Sleeping and waking in Kairos time rather than Kronos time. Kronos is linear time, the time of clocks and calendars. It moves from a set past towards a determined future. Kairos time is the soul’s time. It spirals and shifts back and forth. It cannot be determined. Moving slowly, noticing my body, my bare feet on the ground, my breath: longer exhalations (breathing in cycles: in for 4, holding for 7, out for 8). Dressing in clothes for how they feel rather than how they look. Breaking the fast of the night with food and drink I enjoy. Gathering information about the world from sources that inform rather then indoctrinate – books; selected social media platforms; the quality of light. Living close to trees and birds and changing weather. Contributing to projects and movements that unveil and stand against and/or apart from abuses of privilege and power. Being curious. Walking through ancient doorways and crossing mysterious thresholds. Looking for Her everywhere. Being open to wonder and surprise . . . Kybele/Artemis, first Century CE. Ephesus Archaeological Museum, Selçuk, Anatolia. She is so much younger than many other Goddess figures, so Her numinous presence took me by surprise . . . Grandmother of Savignano, c22,000 BCE. Pigorini Museum, Rome. There She was, standing alone in a small glass case at the back of the room, waiting . . . How do you reveal and undo patriarchy in your everyday life? Where we live, how we get money, how we spend our money, who our friends are, what we eat, what we wear, what we do for fun, how we quarrel and how we make up, the art we make, who our lovers are and what we do with them, what organizations we participate in, how we relate to institutions of government and law, what rites and rituals we participate in, what we celebrate and how, and the language we use . . .always, everywhere, on any topic the language and languages we use . . .all these things align our energies and powers with or against (or ambiguously with and against) oppression, resistance, liberation. Marilyn Frye, from the Introduction to Marilyn Murphy’s Are You Girls Travelling Alone? Clothespin Fever Press, Los Angeles, 1991, p. 14. Meet Mago Contributor Kaalii Cargill
(Prose) Becoming the earth by Nane Jordan

Becoming the earth “Despite the difficulty and challenge of writing, I write to find the pleasure of its making, to put body and senses to text, in what Hélène Cixous calls “the earth of writing” where “we must work to the point of becoming the earth” (p. 156, Schoolof roots).” (Nané, Daughter of writing, 2015) During this past summer, between these research/work trips, between, and yet at home and in life with those I love, I hit a new (or old?) wall of frustration. When this frustration first appeared, I welcomed it. As if to notice that I can feel “frustrated,” what a luxury of energy! But what does it mean? It was distinct and continual, as I approached the production stage of my research, in work on publications, etc. At first, I was amused by it. Frustrated, now? After all this, you can feel frustration again? My illness of 3 years has curbed many of my edges, by dint of survival. I am learning to walk more carefully, mindfully, gently with myself, to not burn fast and hard in my work, and in relation to myself. In fact, I can’t burn much at all. Since the return of some energy, I don’t always manage this. But I pretty much always notice how I am. I can give a nod to myself, “Oh this again.” I noticed this past week in the LEGS workshops, I had so much excited energy to talk and be with all the women and gender scholars, to hear their work and share my own. It’s one of my favorite things, the exchange of ideas and life in groups, to move projects forward, and nourish good ideas and actions. Especially in this French academic context, I am learning about the work of scholars in France, and other parts of Europe. I had a hard time falling asleep, my energy revving ‘high.’ How to calm down and still interact, giving and receiving what I can with others. A lot is going on. A lot is manifesting. In the early summer, lying in the MA pose of “birth” with the Gestare art collective, I realized I still carry a sense of burnout. I don’t want to work myself too hard. There has to be rest and enjoyment. There has been much recovery, and happiness is being able to be well with my loved ones, and travel/work with new opportunities. Gratitude. But a continued need for regeneration, to regenerate lying on the earth, from the earth. Sitting in meditation in the Magdalene Basilica this morning, I felt this pull into the earth. It was her call back to me: No need to push production, let it come, it comes. This is the direction, beyond frustration. No words, mind empties, sensation of matter, deep internal release, movement downwards, spine rolling forward and head/skull hanging between knees, space opens between each vertebrae, mouth is loose, form shifts into its collection of matter, elements of themselves. The dark open space between particles arises. Hummmm of the earth. (Meet Mago Contributor) Nane Jordan, Ph.D.
(Art) Synesthesia and “The River Song” by Belinda Subraman

Age four I was called by the wounded earth smell of a freshly trimmed hedge the way honey sounds under a full moon breathing my grandma’s scent of polka dots… At the portal to fluid reality my karma scope cast lights of glad kindness and legends seeping through me. I remember sickness every childhood disease and talking to aliens (probably delirious with fever) but I remember there was magic in a mimosa tree and a belting for sharing knowledge of my anointment. They cut the tree down and forbade the utterance of anything not Biblical. I said little for years afraid of my tongue and shadows greater than my own. I’m past the noise of tidiness, posted regulations through 40 translations and constant derailment of what I might have been without cruelty and jumbled senses. From tasting pain in everything picked and dying to now it is the voice of the rock not the river I hear… with cinnamon periscope eye (Meet Mago Contributor) Belinda Subraman.
(Mago Almanac Planner Year 5 Excerpt 1) 13 Month 28 Day Magoist Calendar by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

[Author’s Note: This and its sequences are a newly added portion in the Mago Almanac Planner Year 5, equivalent to the Gregorian Year 2022. Because the Budoji did not explain further about time units smaller than 1 day, I did not follow through some possible implications in previous Mago Almanac volumes. Next year’s Mago Almanac Planner for Personal Journey: 13 Month 28 Day Calendar Year 5 or 5919 MAGOMA ERA is forthcoming in Mago Bookstore (October 25, 2021). PDF version is available for purchase.] Angbuilgu (仰釜日晷 Concave Sundial) dated in 1434 of Joseon Dynasty Korea (13 horizontal lines are engraved, indicating 24 seasons and 7 vertical lines indicating times of a day) UNITS OF TIME MEASURE At the half point of the eleventh Sa, there is one Gu of the big Hoe (Eve of the first day of the month). Gu is the root of time. Three hundred Gu makes one Myo. With Myo, we can sense Gu. A lapse of 9,633 Myo-Gak-Bun-Si makes one day. This is of Chesu (Physical Number), 3, 6, 9. By and by, the encircling time charts Medium Calendar and Large Calendar to evince the principle of numerology. 1 Gu (approx. 3.71 miliseconds) refers an infinitesimal discrepancy that occurs every eleven years or every ten and a half years precisely. Because Gu (a noncognitive time unit) is a time too small to count, Gu can only be treated as 1 Myo, equivalent to 300 Gu. As shown in the below table, Myo is still a tiny unit of time. 9,633 Myo equals 1 day, which is 288,990 Gu (300×9633=288,990). Because of this, there will be one extra day (9,633 Myo) every 31,788,900 years. This means, the Magoist Calendar has another (the third) leap day every 31,788,900 years (11 x 300 x 9,633). 31,788,900 years is a long time, which we will presumably not take into consideration for the Magoist Calendar dating 3898 BCE (the beginning year of Goma’s Danguk confederacy) that we are under. Because the units of Gak, Bun, and Si are not further explained in the Budoji,[1] it is difficult to designate what they indicate. Although the terms of Gak, Bun, and Si are familiar to moderns as time indicators, what each unit indicates is unknown. Given that 9,633 Myo (Gak-Bun-Si) equals 1 day (1 Il 日 일), it is conjectured that Gak-Bun-Si refers to time segments equivalent to hours, minutes, and seconds in today’s 24 hour a day scheme. 1 Myo is approximately 1.115 seconds, as 9,633 Myo is approximately 8,640 seconds. If we project the time of 1 day into a circle, the whole circle indicates 1 day. Doing this implies that time/space is inseparable in a circular notion of timespace. To specify a size of time smaller than 1 day, we can first divide the circle into two halves. Let’s call the half circle or a half day A. A (equivalent to 12 hours) equals 4,816.5 Myo or 1,444,950 Gu. Then, we divide the half circle into two halves. And let’s call it B. B refers to a quarter of 1 day or B (equivalent to 6 hours), which equals 2,408.25 Myo or 722,475 Gu. Likewise, C refers to one eighth of 1 day, equivalent to 3 hours), which equals 1,204.125 Myo or 361,237.5 Gu. A subsequent division by 2 aligns with the Physical Numbers, 3, 6, 9 in the digital root.[2] Given one sidereal day to be 23 hours, 56 minutes, and 4.0916 seconds or 23.9344696 hours, 1 A would be 11 hours, 58 minutes, and 2.0458 seconds. 1 B would be 5 hours, 59 minutes, and 1.0229 seconds. 1 C would be 2 hours, 59.5 minutes, and 0.51145 seconds. The circle represents the sidereal day of 23 hours, 56 minutes, and 4.0916 seconds. Note that the time divisions of 1 day (A, B, and C) follow the order of 1, 2, 4, and 8. Precisely, this is what the Magoist Genealogy of the first three generations that I illustrated above and elsewhere: The Magoist Cosmogony recounts that from one (Mago, the Great Mother) born are the two daughters (Gunghui and Sohui), which makes the triad. From the two daughters born are the four twins, which makes eight. This is observed in meiosis (cell division for sexually reproducing organisms) from one to two and to four and to eight and so forth. The Mago triad and the eight granddaughters are called Nine Magos.[3] The calendar is not just an indication of times or seasons. It is an indication of the life-organizing principle. The Magoist Calendar is a summary of cosmic and planetary life systems. From a microcosmic entity to a macrocosmic universe, all runs by the same force of Sonic Numerology, the metamorphic reality of WE/HERE/NOW. Beings, time, and space are the three inseparable aspects of one reality.(To be continued) [1] It is indeed regretful that the sequence book of the Budoji, Yeoksiji (Book of Calendar and Time), that treats calendar and time has been lost. We have only the Budoji available, the first book of 15 books of the Jingsimnok (Record of Cleansing Mind/Heart), a compendium of 3 volumes that have 5 books in each. Doubtless that the Yeoksiji (Book of Calendar and Time), the third book of Volume 1, would detail the rest of time measures and sub-calendars. [2] D would refer to one sixteenth of 1 day, equivalent to 1.5 hours, which equals 602.0625 Myo (3 in the Digital Root) or 180,618.75 (9 in the Digital Root). If we divide one eighth of 1 day by 3, it is one twenty-fourth of 1 day or E (equivalent to 1 hour). A total of 24 segments. E equals 401.375 Myo or 120,412.5 Gu. These numbers do not follow the suit of 3, 6, and 9, Chesu or Physical Numbers. 401.375 is 2 in the Digital Root and 120,412.5 is 6 in the Digital Root. [3] See this book, 112. https://www.magoism.net/2013/07/meet-mago-contributor-helen-hwang/
(Nine Poets Speak) Metacrisis by Harriet Ann Ellenberger

[Editors’ Note: Learn about how the “Nine Poets Speak” series came to be in place here.] Photo by Cassandra Moore, on Unsplash; Cassandra Moore (@cassanova) | Unsplash Photo Community MetacrisisThere is a sadness flowingbeneath the surface of my life,but it’s been forty yearssince I was able to cry.Now with our human world collapsing,I feel like crying for everyone,and still the tears don’t come.Ours was a global civilizationthat had to failbecause it was killing the earth.But the process of its decline is horrific.Now can I cry? Still no tears.Will human beings survivethe collapse of our modernity?No one knows.Now can I cry?I think now the tears will come. Author’s note: I wrote this poem after watching “How To Respond to Societal Collapse,” a talk given by Sarah Wilson on YouTube. Meet Mago Contributor, Harriet Ann Ellenberger – Return to Mago E*Magazine
(Poem) Supernatural by Robin Scofield

Isis grows tomatoes in the sugar skull of the Beloved who hangs onto a vine that climbs the gravestone where he delivers the quick and the dead, chivalrous, blessing every session with the wick and the creed, bread and hunger both used to induce visions that applaud the Goddess of all that is and was, and he, missing his one member the fish ate, not out of hate but instinct that ruins all the soldiers who need closure after they come back from war. Tell them every lesion ends in its season.

(Special Post Mother Teresa 1) A Role Model for Women? by Mago Circle Members

[Editorial Note: The following is an edited version of the discussion that took place spontaneously on Mago Circle from March 1, 2013 for about two weeks. It was an extensive, heated, yet reflective discussion, now broken into four parts to fit the format of the blog. We thank each and all of the participants for your openness, generosity, and courage to stand up for what you believe and think! Some are marked as anonymous. As someone stated, something may have been “written in the heat of the moment” and some might like to change it at a later time. So we inform our readers that nothing is written in stone. As a matter of fact, the discussion is ongoing, now with Magoism Blog readers. Please comment and respond as you wish.] Part I: Why are we talking about Mother Teresa? [The conversation began among Anne Wilkerson Allen, Helen Hwang, and Wennifer Lin in a personal message and editor’s group. We agreed that Mother Teresa’s Western (Albanian) identity is hardly taken into consideration in the public perception of her as a secular and religious leader. Then, we decided to bring the topic to the Mago Circle.] Anne Wilkerson Allen: [A] posted this today and I think it is discussion worthy. Mother Teresa: Anything but a saint… scienceblog.com The myth of altruism and generosity surrounding Mother Teresa is dispelled in a paper by Serge Larivée and Genevieve Chenard of University of Montreal’s Department of Psychoeducation and Carole Sénéchal of the University of Ottawa’s Faculty of Education… http://scienceblog.com/60730/mother-teresa-anything-but-a-saint/#IdkpoWrDtMAAVCAg.99 Anne Wilkerson Allen: It is not my desire to bash the Church – I think everyone here is fully aware of the evils of patriarchy and the way the Church has used women, abused and killed women…but Teresa is an icon in the West, in particular, of saintliness. Even non-Catholics love her. Why? And is what she did really worthy of role modeling? Anne Wilkerson Allen: This was also on the thread. Not a huge fan of Hitchens, and I think calling her work a “death cult” is extreme, but I am interested in your opinions please. Christopher Hitchens – Mother Teresa: Hell’s Angel [1994] In 1994, three years before her death, journalist Christopher Hitchens made this documentary asking if Mother Teresa’s reputation was deserved… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=76_qL6fiyDw Anne Wilkerson Allen: I would also like to talk about altruism and some of the areas we have touched on before…at what point is my “help” an imposition in a third world country? Is my desire to “help” spurred by years of programming or heart? I honestly don’t know anymore. Anne Wilkerson Allen: There is also a part of me that wonders if this deflection of blame and highlighting of Teresa’s faults now is yet another “Let the women take the fall” action. Anne Wilkerson Allen: NOT that I find her blameless – her advocacy against contraception and abortion is decidedly anti-female, but there is so much focus on the Pope and the priests now….I keep wondering when the abuses of the nuns is going to come to light. Anne Wilkerson Allen: I think Ireland recently had something in the news about this… Ireland apologizes for Catholic laundry scandal Ireland’s premier has issued a state apology to the thousands of Irish women who spent years working without pay in prison-style laundries run by Catholic nuns. Former residents of the now-defunct Magdalene Laundries have campaigned for the past decade to get the government to apologize and pay compensation to an estimated 1,000 survivors of the workhouses. Two weeks ago the Irish government published an investigation into the state’s role in overseeing the laundries. It found that more than 10,000 women worked in 10 laundries from 1922 to 1996, when the last Dublin facility closed down… http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-202_162-57570107/ireland-apologizes-for-catholic-laundry-scandal/ Anne Wilkerson Allen: One of my friends was one of these girls. [Z]: I have wanted to bring attention to this issue for a long time but did not have a chance or was biting my time. Now Anne is pointing out some of the crucial issues about her, Mother Teresa, I am so thankful for this opportunity for us to sort out and think collectively. Thank you Anne! [Z]: Yes, the Catholic Laundry Scandal was shared here too!!! Anne Wilkerson Allen: It’s hard. She is iconic for many women. I did not know the sordid details or the horrors – not that it excuses anything….but when I was young, I saw her as someone to emulate….and thus became immolated…. [Z]: I have been thinking all along the way that she should not be a role model for women. Can you believe that I did even as a once Catholic Sister?!!! I know that many religious women out there will agree with me too. [Z]: My critique is not much on her as a person. But the fact that she represents morality for especially women makes me mad. Oh, there seems a lot more about reasons why we should debunk the mystique of Mother Teresa. Anne Wilkerson Allen: One of the things Hirchens pointed out was that it made Westerners feel good that this wonderful white woman was helping the poor in Calcutta….though she rarely seemed to be in Calcutta. Another friend told me that he knew one of the sisters of charity and that she told him they were encouraged to flog themselves on a regular basis….sick sick sick Anne Wilkerson Allen: This is why I have a problem with the mentality that says evil exists to teach us something…..that suffering exists to highlight our joy….there is just something WRONG with that. Anne Wilkerson Allen: We are all dark and light and in-between. [Z]: I am not surprised. Yes, definitely. What a waste of time and intelligence if not already damaging many turning the navigation backward!!! [Helen Hwang calls out the individual names to join the discussion, and is responded by what follows.] [B]: In Minneapolis there is a charity founder, Mary Jo Copeland, who helps the homeless & hungry. She just received an award from the President. She seems selfless, like Mother Teresa did (at least in […]
(Special post) The Goddess Inanna: Her Allies and Opponents by Hearth Moon Rising

Inanna’s Descent to the Underworld is one of the most fascinating myths ever told. Not just because it is profound and enlightening, although it is certainly that. It’s an exciting journey that ignites the imagination, and female characters are at the hub of the action. This is a tale of power: power that is demanded, power that is won, power that is appropriated, and power that cannot be escaped. The story follows the fertility goddess Inanna, who brought civilization to Mesopotamia, as she seeks to expand her realm by venturing into the world below. Inanna’s experiences in the great below, her escape, and the wild events that unfold as a result of her caper are the focus of the tale.
(Special Post Isis 1) Why the Color of Isis Matters by Mago Circle Members

[Editor’s note: The discussion took place in Mago Circle during the month of July, 2013. Our heartfelt thanks go to the members who participated in this discussion with openness and courage.] Part 1 Is Isis White (European) or Black (African)? Harita Meenee What could Isis have to do with the political situation in Egypt? Read on to find out! Isis, Egypt and the Revolution For the past few years Egypt has felt like a second home to me. Some cherished friends and co-workers live there, to whom my thoughts often travel. Also, Isis, the Egyptian great goddess once worshiped all over the Mediterranean, has been an ever-present source of inspiration… By: Harita Meenee, Author https://www.facebook.com/notes/harita-meenee-author/isis-egypt-and-the-revolution/457348724361326 Rick Williams Isis and that picture for me is kind of offensive in 2013. KMT [Kemet, Egypt] and AUSET [Isis] “worship” is an oxymoron. Kahena Dorothea Can you explain, Rick Williams, how it is an oxymoron? I am curious. Rick Williams First, Auset as a deity was not a singularly honored symbolic personage. KMT taught principles of BALANCE and UNIVERSAL COSMOLOGICAL TRUTH. There are NO images from the dawn of that age depicting her as EUROPEAN. [Threads curtailed] Helen Hwang I would strongly suggest that Rick and others who see Rick’s point educate us in Mago Circle. I know this is very difficult but we are here to learn and express differences from each other. We are all centers and please share your perspective and knowledge so that others can learn. I am doing that with patience and tolerance as well. Thank you all! Rick Williams I try to be as honest and respectful when I can, Helen. I only personalize things when ONE person says something. Yet there are those who know that the people of that land now weren’t the same people who honored the deities of mythology and that image isn’t of Auset. When will folks stop promoting fictitious images and uneducated observations? I could have beat around the bush and politely asked about the statue, why that one isn’t truly the same of Auset’s time? Helen Hwang Okay, conflicts and contradictions are everywhere. Nonetheless, we can’t be beat by those. We are exploring ways to be empowered by addressing our differences in Mago Circle. We trust that we have good intentions and yet we are not perfect. I do Mago Circle and Return to Mago because I believe there is a way for us to meet and talk with our differences, I can’t let that hope go! Thank us for talking to each other. Naa Ayele Kumari I can see both points. Egypt has a long and ancient history… One filled with invaders.. wars.. people who stole the magic and manipulated it for their own purposes… Those invaders changed images to make them in their own reflections all the while slowly destroying the indigenous images of power and strength as well as the sacred tradition they were built on.. As a woman of African descent, it is sometimes difficult to see the Hellenistic images of our mother.. because her original images were a woman of color. Racism… whether we chose to admit it or not has played an immense part in our oppression as a people and that includes the struggle for Egypt today. It is especially a sensitive issue because those images play a role in how people see and view black women… even today. The dark goddess is stereotyped as being a part of our shadow while the white goddess is caste as being all that is good in the world. What black women struggle to tell the world is that those projections are simply racist projections… and so we reject them. Still, I recognize that people like to experience the divine in their own image and that our Mother has been taken around the world… and by extension absorbed many names and faces because after all, she is mother not to just Africans… but to the World. Right now, we have dominant tradition of Islam… that at its roots has a feminine basis… (Islam came from the word Isis) all the while oppressing women by its dogma. The indigenous people of Egypt, the Badarians and Nubians… are oppressed by Arab invaders who have taken control, projected their own religions all the while wanting to destroy the remainder of the images of the ancients. Injustice recognizes injustice… and all the ways that it shows up. At the root of Egypt…is Isis… called also Esi and Auset by the indigenous people. She has been oppressed by many layers of invaders… Her daughter’s voices have been muted… Timeless icon that she is, as the tides are turning, so are the heavy oppressions being lifted. Women are finding and re-remembering their power… and as they do… Mama Esi.. is taking back her throne. Naa Ayele Kumari This is the Isis on the walls and temples of Egypt. Harita Meenee Seeing the people of Egypt as all white or all Black means stereotyping them. In fact the inhabitants of Egypt are of different colors: some are white, others are Black and many others are something in-between. The same was true in antiquity and it’s reflected in Egyptian art. Rick Williams Harita, really? What does that have to do with your choice of misrepresentation of that image? Please enlighten me, thank you. Harita Meenee Τhere is no misrepresentation, dear Rick Williams. If you read my note carefully, you’ll see that it talks about Isis as a goddess who was worshiped all over the Mediterranean–I’m not referring to just her Egyptian manifestation. The statue depicted is in the National Archaeological Museum in Athens, Greece. I took this picture and processed it slightly so that it looks more like a painting than a sculpture. No change was made to the actual form or color of the statue. I’m attaching a photo of the museum label of this work of art. It may not be clearly visible, but it reads: Marble statue of the goddess Isis-Tyche-Pelagia. 1st-2nd century AD. The composite name means that, as was often the case in […]

(Video) An Autumn Equinox Ceremony by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

Autumn Equinox/Mabon Northern Hemisphere – September 21-23 Southern Hemisphere – March 21-23 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lRJNY1LSvIs&t=1175s …oOo… The purpose of this video is for ceremony, and I suggest pausing the video where it suits you, to add your own processing, embellishments and/or your own drum, percussion and voice wherever you please. I have made short spaces in the video where it could be paused. The script for this Autumn Equinox/Mabon ceremony is offered in Chapter 11 of my book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony, with all acknowledgements and references there. In particular I mention here, credit for the story of Demeter and Persephone as told by Charlene Spretnak in her book Lost Goddesses of Early Greece. For more full participation in the ceremony, you could have one or more stalks of wheat or native grain tied with a red thread/ribbon, a garden pot with soil, a small garden trowel, a flower bulb (daffodil type), food and drink, that may represent your “harvest” – ready for eating and drinking. The elements of Water, Fire, Earth and Air on the altar in this video are placed in directions that are appropriate to my region in the Southern Hemisphere, and East Coast Australia: you may place yours differently, and transliterate when I mention the direction (which I do minimally). The images used are a collage of footage and photos from the 2024 Autumn Equinox ceremony at my place in Wakka Wakka country, South East Queensland Australia, and from previous Autumn Equinox ceremonies I facilitated over the decades in MoonCourt, Goddess ceremonial space in NSW Australia, Darug and Gundungurra country. My partner Robert (Taffy) Seaborne who has participated in all the Seasonal ceremonies since Samhain 2000, adds his voice to this video. Image credits: Demeter and Persephone (500 B.C.E. Greece). Hallie Iglehart Austen, The Heart of the Goddess, p.72. Art of Demeter and Persephone on MoonCourt wall: Cernak Herself Music credit: “Gentle Sorrow” by Sky: which he has previously allowed me to use in my work. This piece of music is also used in the Autumn Equinox meditation on my PaGaian Cosmology Meditations published 2015.
(Poem) Samhain by Annie Finch

In the season leaves should love, since it gives them leave to move through the wind, towards the ground they were watching while they hung, legend says there is a seam stitching darkness like a name. Now when dying grasses veil earth from the sky in one last pale wave, as autumn dies to bring winter back, and then the spring, we who die ourselves can peel back another kind of veil that hangs among us like thick smoke. Tonight at last I feel it shake. I feel the nights stretching away thousands long behind the days, till they reach the darkness where all of me is ancestor. I turn my hand and feel a touch move with me, and when I brush my young mind across another, I have met my mother’s mother. Sure as footsteps in my waiting self, I find her, and she brings arms that hold answers for me, intimate, waiting, bounty: “Carry me.” She leaves this trail through a shudder of the veil, and leaves, like amber where she stays, a gift for her perpetual gaze. From Eve (Carnegie Mellon University Press, 2010) (Meet Mago Contributor) Annie Finch
(Photography & Poetry) Thoughts of Spring by Deanne Quarrie

Spring At the highest point on the tree, you stretch, reaching for the sun. Your pink petals elegant in their grace, you stand alone. Bravest of all, for leaves have yet to come to offer shade Branches bare except for furry buds that will soon follow in imitation of your daring first move. Intrepid flower of Spring, I feel like you in my yearning for the Sun!
Lammas/Late Summer within the Creative Cosmos by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an edited excerpt from Chapter 10 of the author’s new book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. Southern Hemisphere – Feb. 1st/2nd, Northern Hemisphere – August 1st/2nd These dates are traditional, though the actual astronomical date varies. It is the meridian point or cross-quarter day between Summer Solstice and Autumn Equinox, thus actually a little later in early February for S.H., and early August for N.H., respectively. a Lammas/Late Summer table The Old One, the Dark and Shining One, has been much maligned, so to celebrate Her can be more of a challenge in our present cultural context. Lammas may be an opportunity to re-aquaint ourselves with the Crone in her purity, to fall in love with Her again, to celebrate She Who creates the Space to Be. Lammas is a welcoming of the Dark in all its complexity: and as with any funerary moment, there is celebration of the life lived (enjoyment of the harvest) – a “wake,” and there is grieving for the loss. One may fear it, which is good reason to make ceremony, to go deeper, to commit to the Mother, who is the Deep; to “make sacred” this emotion, as much as one may celebrate the hope and wonder of Spring, its opposite. If Imbolc/Early Spring is a nurturing of new young life, Lammas may be a nurturing/midwifing of death or dying to small self, the assent to larger self, an expansion or dissipation – further to the radiance of Summer Solstice. Whereas Imbolc is a Bridal commitment to being and form, where we are the Promise of Life; Lammas may be felt as a commitment marriage to the Dark within, as we accept the Harvest of that Promise, the cutting of it. We remember that the Promise is returned to Source. “The forces which began to rise out of the Earth at the festival of Bride now return at Lammas.”[i] Creativity is called forth when an end (or impasse) is reached: we can no longer rely on our small self to carry it off. We may call Her forth, this Creative Wise Dark One – of the Ages, when our ways no longer work. We are not individuals, though we often think we are. We are Larger Self, subjects within theSubject.[ii] And this is a joyful thing. We do experience ourselves as individuals and we celebrate that creativity at Imbolc. Lammas is the time for celebrating the fact that we are part of, in the context of, a Larger Organism, and expanding into that. Death will teach us that, but we don’t have to wait – it is happening around us all the time, we are constantly immersed in the process, and everyday creativity is sourced in this subjectivity. As it is said, She is “that which is attained at the end of Desire:”[iii] the same Desire we celebrated at Beltaine, has peaked at Summer and is now dissolving form, returning to Source to nourish the Plenum, the manifesting – as all form does. This Seasonal Moment of Lammas/Late Summer celebrates the beginning of dismantling, de-structuring. Gaia-Universe has done a lot of this de-structuring – it is in Her nature to return all to the “Sentient Soup” … nothing is wasted. We recall the Dark Sentience, the “All-Nourishing Abyss”[iv] at the base of being, as we enter this dark part of the cycle of the year. This Dark/Deep at the base of being, to whom we are returned, may be understood as the Sentience within all – within the entire Universe. The dictionary definition of sentience is: “intelligence,” “feeling,” “the readiness to receive sensation, idea or image; unstructured available consciousness,” “a state of elementary or undifferentiated consciousness.”[v] The Old Wise One is the aspect of the Cosmic Triplicity/Triple Goddess that returns us to this sentience, the Great Subject out of whom we arise. We are subjects within the Great Subject – the sentient Universe; we are not a collection of objects, as Thomas Berry has said.[vi] This sentience within, this “readiness-to-receive,” is a dark space, as all places of ending and beginning are. Mystics of all religious traditions have understood the quintessential darkness of the Divinity, known often as the Abyss. Goddesses such as Nammu and Tiamat, Aditi and Kali, are the anthropomorphic forms of this Abyss/Sea of Darkness that existed before creation. She is really the Matrix of the Universe. This sentience is ever present and dynamic. It could be understood as the dark matter that is now recognized to form most of the Universe. This may be recognized as Her “Cauldron of Creativity” and celebrated at this Lammas Moment. Her Cauldron of Creativity is the constant flux of all form in the Universe – all matter is constantly transforming. We are constantly transforming on every level. a Lammas/Late Summer altar These times that we find ourselves in have been storied as the Age of Kali, the Age of Caillaech – the Age of the Crone. There is much that is being turned over, much that will be dismantled. We are in the midst of the revealing of compost, and transformation – social, cultural, and geophysical. Kali is not a pretty one – but we trust She is transformer, and creative in the long term. She has a good track record. Our main problem is that we tend to take it personally. The Crone – the Old Phase of the cycle, creates the Space to Be. Lammas is the particular celebration of the beauty of this awesome One. She is symbolized and expressed in the image of the waning moon, which is filling with darkness. She is the nurturant darkness that may fill your being, comfort the sentience in you, that will eventually allow new constellations to gestate in you, renew you. So the focus in ceremony may be to contemplate opening to Her, noticing our fears and our hopes involved in that. She is the Great Receiver – receives all, and as such She is the Great Compassionate One. Her Darkness may be understood as a Depth of Love. And She is Compassionate because of …
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.
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) …

(Budoji Essay 3) The Magoist Cosmogony by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

“Reintroducing the concept of the Mago Species has a profound implication, compelling one’s vocabularies to be changed to the Mother’s Tongue.” [This is a translation and interpretation of the Budoji (Epic of the Emblem City), principal text of Magoism. Read the translation of Chapter 1 of the Budoji.] There were Four Heavenly Persons at the four corners of the castle. They built pillars and sounded music. Four Heavenly Persons are the four clan leaders who reside in the four corners of Mago Castle, Primordial Paradise. They are entrusted by Mago to cultivate the acoustical effect of the universe (the original music). While the translation of “pillars” is provisional, it may mean a musical instrument of some primordial sort. Given the importance of stone, a theme reiterated in later chapters of the Budoji, the pillars may refer to the stone structure that supports a musical instrument. Or they may indicate stone chimes or an acoustical rock structure.
(Book Excerpt 4) The Mago Way by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D.

[Author’s Note] The following is from Chapter One, “What Is Mago and Magoism and How Did I Study HER?” from The Mago Way: Re-discovering Mago, the Great Goddess from East Asia, Volume 1. Footnotes below would be different from the monograph version. PDF book of The Mago Way Volume 1 download is available for free here.] This chapter,[i] interweaving the personal (how I came to study Mago) and the political (why I advocate Magoism), informs the general and particular tenets of Magoism. My study of Mago was, although it took the form of a doctoral dissertation, ultimately motivated by my self-searching quest as a Korean-born radical feminist. I came to encounter the Great Goddess known as Mago in East Asia by way of several detours on my life’s journey. Like my non-Western and
(Essay) The Mago Hedge School: Why Remember Mary Daly? by Helen Hye Sook Hwang

Prologue By writing this, I do not intend to defend Mary Daly’s position in any dispute. A controversial figure, Mary Daly never let go of her fight with those whom she thought on the other side of her feminist war. Like anyone else in history, Mary Daly belonged to her time and culture, and I leave her unresolved issues up to her. What I write here is my fond memory of her, whose feminist thought left an indelible mark on my being as well as humanity as a whole. Daly’s contribution remains to be reassessed from the fresh eye of new generations. In the meantime, I begin to speak for my part. Without Mary Daly’s thought, I would not have been in this place where I stand right now. It has empowered me to actualize my dreams to the fullest as a wo/man who was born and raised in Korea but had come from the One Home in origin. I first hear of the hedge school “Have you heard of the hedge school, Hye Sook?” asked Mary. “No, I haven’t heard of it,” I answered. This conversation took place during the conference called the Feminist Hullaballoo held in Santa Fe, New Mexico in 2007. We met there and spent three days as chums. Mary was with another friend, Yvonne Johnson, so the three of us hung out together. It was a very special time for me – I felt as if I were wrapped up in the eye of the storm. (In fact, my life feels so.) At the conference, someone asked me how I came to be invited as a featured speaker. I was among such renowned feminist speakers as Sonia Johnson, Paula Gunn Allen, and Mary Daly herself. They felt like giants to me. I told her that Mary Daly invited me. Mary had asked me if I would like to go and speak at that conference. I did not have an inflated ego. I would not have been hurt if I were not chosen. But I said “Yes” without hesitation. At the time, it felt like another one of the many “outlandish” adventures that I had undertaken throughout my life. In retrospect, however, this was a very special “Yes” to the beginning of my life’s new phase. It was my debut as a radical feminist, so to speak – the first time I spoke to such a large number of radical feminists. Mary sat in the front row and listened to my talk. She nodded her head saying “It was great,” when I finished and came down to sit next to her. Mary was just getting to know my research on Mago in that year; that was what she was referring to. Nonetheless, what mattered to me was not how well I presented my research, but that I managed to do it! The jitters were over! I was returning Home and had just been baptized in public as a Wo/man, the whole being. [This talk was later published in Trivia: Voices of Feminism.] My two dreams When I accepted Mary’s invitation, I was thinking of my two dreams. I am a dream-listener. Or to be more accurate, my dreams have led me through. These dreams with regard to Mary Daly are in fact old; I dreamt them before my arrival in Claremont, California, in 1997. In the first dream, I was in the crowd when Mary spoke to a large audience. The venue was an open plaza and the stage was far away from where I was standing. Then, out of the blue, Mary called my name and asked me to come up to the podium. It sounded like a call to my soul. So I did. Then, she passed the microphone to me. I blacked out, not knowing what to say, and woke up. This dream told me what I lacked, a message to deliver to the world, which I did not have for some years. The second dream was a brief but sweet one. Mary and I were standing in an old-style classroom as co-teachers. The dynamic between us was intimate and enjoyable. Honored and proud, I felt in the presence of my old friends. The classroom was a dream-like space within a dream, as if we were in a time machine! More than two decades have passed since I had those dreams, and now I see that they were indeed self-fulfilling dreams. The first dream was fulfilled through the event of my speech to the Feminist Hullaballoo conference. By then, it was clear that I was going to speak about the topic of Mago, which I had encountered for my Ph.D. dissertation. It was the topic that I had searched for without knowing and I found it. Now I see that it found me! It is the tradition of my ancestors that has beckoned me to come Home. In Mago, I found an anciently originated gynocnetric reality, which encompasses everyone regardless and named it Magoism. Mary and I meet in person The first time I met her in person was in early April of 1999, in Claremont, California. I had been in contact with Mary Daly for about four years before then. We had spoken over the telephone, faxed, and snail-mailed across the Pacific Ocean while I was living in Korea from 1994 to 1997. Mary was invited to speak by the committee of Claremont Colleges programs including the Women’s Studies in Religion Program at Claremont Graduate University, the program I was studying in. In fact, that was the program that Mary had suggested I apply for, and she had written a recommendation letter on my behalf. My first meeting with her is imprinted on my soul, and it feels as fresh as ever. It was an unusually cold spring day in Claremont. It even sprinkled some rain. She was staying at the Claremont Inn, only a couple of blocks away from my dormitory apartment. She had phoned me the day before her arrival. She called me …

Day: May 19, 2017

(Poem) Lavender by Andrea Nicki

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