January 27, 2023January 26, 2023 Mago WorkLeave a comment

(Art) What’s So Radical About Feminism? by Glen Rogers

Title: What’s So Radical About Feminism? Medium: Mixed Media Artist Book on Amate Paper Page size: 7 1/2″x 6″ Book size: 7 1/2″ tall x 26″ long x 6″ deep In Read More …

The Crow’s Nest by Sara Wright

Photo by Sara Wright Bare tree shadowy veil old snow won’t let go. Beaded Judges shift spring tides hide predators with eyes. Crows reveal old bones… March is the month when crows scream, screeching and mobbing as they soar through indigo skies – their harsh declarations hurt my ears though I know they are mating and nesting. Although crows are as bright as the rest of the Corvids they are also mobsters, bullies who haunt the forest to harass sleeping owls; next month they will be stealing birds’ eggs or killing the songbirds themselves. With three billion birds extinct, their predatory nature might be considered a threat. And unlike most avian species their numbers are not decreasing. Crows will consume virtually anything; carrion is a favorite. And the latter quality, much like their intelligence reveals a more ‘positive’ side because crows strip the flesh from the bones of the dead. But overall, these ‘hooded’ (European terminology) birds are associated with death ‘A murder of crows’ is an apt description. Even new age folks associate them with the presence of the Shadow side of Reality. Women are often described as ‘old crows’ even if age is not a factor, and I believe there is truth behind this description. Patriarchal women, that is women who have rejected their own Motherline for the ‘Power of the Fathers’ fall prey to patriarchal domination, a system that is presently extinguishing the lives of humans and non – human species alike through capitalistic greed and indifference. The effects of this destructive way of life may manifest differently for men and women. Here I focus on women. The astounding absence of compassion, harsh judgments, the use of silence or screaming as a means of control, rigidity, bullying, knifing other women in the back, an unwillingness to wander across the isles, a refusal to examine personal shadow are qualities that reveal the character of ‘crow women’ who often obscure themselves by acting ‘Nice’. That is, until they strike with vengeance. I’ve known too many. Every year when I come round to March I face the dark side of the serpent, as I relive my mother’s absence in my life. I was an unwanted child, and because the mother – daughter bone was broken I floundered, and flounder still while enduring a seasonal spring descent as best as I can. Persephone rises but in my story no mother rejoices at this daughter’s return. As an adult I acquiesced, raged, mourned, and eventually held my mother and myself accountable for damages done. Then I tried to let go and couldn’t. Because I did the necessary work I didn’t know why. Enter the crows who helped enlighten me… Acknowledging the powers of death is important; feeding those powers is not. Once my mother fed the crows… and her mother did too. Now I have a neighbor who feeds her crows too.. years ago I periodically left food for these corvids before I lived here until I understood that by feeding the crows I was repeating an old patriarchal story, one that fuels the serpent who has wrapped itself around the earth four times and is gradually squeezing the life out of our planet (Martin Shaw). We are destroying Our Mother. I will not destroy mine. I continue to search for memories of my mother that are not associated with betrayal, confusion, silence, or loss. To my great surprise there are some and as each one surfaces, I wonder how I could have ‘forgotten’. A poignant example is a brief essay on wildflowers that I wrote for publication in which I ‘re -membered’ that my mother’s love for wildflowers was a gift that she bequeathed to me as a child. Yesterday, to celebrate this bond between us, I bought spring flowers. And remembered a son who once carried a giant stone egg from one side of an island to the other… Old crows are picking the bones… https://www.magoism.net/2014/12/meet-mago-contributor-sara-wright/
(Art) 3D Painting: Global Warming: Trust in the Infinite to Answer your Deepest Prayers in the Darkest Times – Snatam Kaur by Sudi Rakusin

This artwork is about global warming. Many of the animals within this piece are endangered. There is a sadness. We are facing this bleak day together. The title is from lyrics by peace activist Snatam Kaur. There are times I feel a parallel existence. My life carries on with the quotidian – working in my studio, feeding my dogs, running errands, reading, going to the kitchen for food. The predictable. The usual. Simultaneously, I can feel the dry heat of the savannah where my kin, the elephants, are traveling to the next water or food source. I can hear the pounding of their feet, the earth trembling from their weight. Surrounding them are human predators who will take their lives for the ivory of their tusks, murdering their young or leaving them to die of broken hearts. They are not safe, these big majestic creatures. There is so much pain and sadness in this reality. I know all elephants carry this betrayal with them. I wonder how long it will take the collective to rid itself of the circus. This is just one species I am drawn to and care deeply about. https://www.magoism.net/2016/05/meet-mago-contributor-sudie-rakusin/
(Prose poem) The Mark of the Bear by Sara Wright

Leaving the sanctity of evergreen forest and still wrapped in winter wool, he warily approaches me. I stand riveted to a wet nose and open mouth sniffing and tasting the evening light; the bear’s gaze rekindles an ancient fire. A golden arrow pierces the shadow of my longing, forcing me to acknowledge the depth of my grief. Hungering for details I scan his face, noting his widow’s peak, mole brown-marbled eyes; curved claws pop the top off the can. Recognition parts the Veil of Bears as I acknowledge him for the second time. One image of my Beloved is this bear.
(Prose) Metamorphosis by Deanne Quarrie

Sometime between the ages of 35 and 55, give or take, a woman enters a phase in her life that can only be described as metamorphosis. Yes, most call it peri-menopausal or menopausal, but truly such changes occur in each woman’s life at this time and it truly is a metamorphosis. It is that time in her life when she stops producing as much estrogen but the production is often haphazard, sporadic and certainly unpredictable. This affects every aspect of her life. She might notice her eyes being dry in the morning, feeling like grating sand when she tries to open them. Her bleeding times may come on at different intervals or not at all. She may bleed more – she may bleed less. She may experience hot flashes – you ask, “What does that feel like?” Imagine a wave of hot air hitting you in the back of your neck and head – instantly causing you to break out in a sweat. You might even get red in the face! All of this, of course, is without warning, and happening at the most inconvenient times. You will often exclaim, “Is it hot in here?” Night sweats – now these are fun! You will find yourself waking up in the wee hours of the morning, sometimes able to go back to sleep but often not. It may take awhile for you to notice that along with this wakefulness come the drenched bed covers and sleepwear! Ye gads! This, my sisters, is the best of it. There is more you ask? Oh my, yes! Let’s talk about the mood swings! Imagine PMS every day – now, not all day – but all of the emotional expressions of PMS become your regular friends. Bitchiness, bad temper, impatience, foul moods, unexpected tears, and a general “leave me the heck alone” feeling! Your friends and family will wonder what is happening to the sweet, levelheaded woman who used to be in their lives. Actually, this is a very beneficial process of pushing aside all of the garbage we load ourselves down with and the phony fronts we feel we have to put on to be what is expected instead of who we really are. This process is truly a shedding – you are the Sacred Snake of Becoming! My whole world as I knew it, my relationships with friends and co-workers – everything changed for me when peri-menopause set in. I had spent my entire life up to that point controlling every emotion, making sure that what surfaced for others to see was “acceptable” to others. Having been raised in a very “British” home, emotions were something not displayed in front of others. Not silly laughter, not anger, and certainly not tears. I had a hysterectomy (uterus only) when I was 43. Because I had healthy ovaries, I knew that one day I would experience menopause as does every woman. But somehow, because I no longer had a period each month, it took me awhile to figure out who this new woman was that I was becoming. Everyone had always known me as steady, level, un-flappable. Never seen before were the sudden eruptions of temper or the instant fits of weeping. Even more important was the fact that I also, did not know this new woman emerging. It was frightening, to say the least. Fortunately, I had just recently found the Goddess and so when I figured out what was going on with my emotions, I decided to accept this new me and ride the ups and downs, the ever turbulent roller coaster of my life. I also decided to do it without hormone help and was far too new at this to even consider herbal assistance. It did not take me long to figure out that my anger would not kill me or anyone else. I also learned that I did not die from my flowing tears. I am not sure why I thought I would. Perhaps I had transferred my earlier fear of parental wrath into fear of the emotions themselves. One thing I did know, I was free of that paralyzing fear – free of embarrassment and free to fully experience the “feeling” me, the emotional woman I had buried deep inside. Gone were the muscle spasms of pent up tension. Gone were the headaches I had suffered for years. Gone too, were those I thought to be friends but who were not accepting enough to accompany me with love on this ride. Surprise, surprise, I have never missed them! If your friends wonder – share that with them. Tell them that you are the Sacred Snake shedding Her skin! You may even feel like “hissing.” This is your time of metamorphosis and in the end, a magnificent Crone will appear. Guaranteed! Oh, did I tell you that your hair will mysteriously disappear from all over your body as well? Ye gads, someone ought to tell you that pubic hair is not forever! Nor are thick eyelashes or shapely eyebrows. Those will suddenly grow in every direction imaginable. You might even get nose hair! The good news is you won’t have to shave your legs near as often and if you are like me – you will just quit shaving altogether! All of this is your practice zone for the Crone that is coming. The Crone who won’t give a darn what people think. This is your training ground for letting go of all of those “people pleasing” ideas. This transitioning time will allow you to test the waters for being outrageous and of course, will give your friends and family a taste of what is yet to come! This is your time to shed all the cumbersome clothing and the clinging trappings of a sedate life and learn to fly – even if one day you might need a cane! My advice for you is to accept this as a normal part of your life. Welcome the surging emotions for …
Kaalii Cargill

Read all posts by Kaalii Cargill. Kaalii Cargill, author of DON’T TAKE IT LYING DOWN: LIFE ACCORDING TO THE GODDESS, lives and works in Melbourne, Australia. She has been involved in women’s consciousness raising groups, home birth, attachment parenting, home and parent-run schooling, and she co-developed Soul Centred Psychotherapy, a therapeutic modality based on the feminine principle. Kaalii has worked extensively in sacred ritual space and currently runs ongoing dream groups. Kaalii inherits a sense of mystery from Calabrese, ‘strega’ grandmothers and a healthy resistance to enculturation from her Romany ancestors. Kaalii’s latest novel,
(Poem & Art) The Place of the Next Light by Arlene Bailey

The Way-Shower, Arlene Bailey, ©2020 I’ve held it all in, all the hopes and dreams, the cries of despair… Held it all in until today. Until today when I felt this net of despair fall over me choking me, strangling me, blocking the air so I couldn’t breathe. I saw her tears – Lady Liberty – as we locked eyes and knew in our hearts that the soul of our nation is now on the auction block. I keened for hours in the woods. Keened for what has already been lost… what is currently being lost… what is potentially still to come. I made altars and offered ritual. Screamed guttural prayers to the Mother of All that enough is enough! Still the tears came, but the keening vocals grew quieter as I had no more to give. Even the crows and hawks went silent sensing a pause of sacred reverence. Where to now I asked? Where do you want to go She replied? I don’t know. I’m tired and disillusioned and want to crawl into my cave and have the Old Ones wrap their arms around me. Then that is what you do. But before you go, you offer… One last prayer to the dreamtime… One last offering of hope planted in these darkening times… One last ritual of rebirth that even now gestates in the womb of the Mother, that gestates in the womb and heart of you… One last offering given with all the fight of the Warrioress that lives within you. Then you rest and wait and trust the Ancient Ones to guide you through to the place of the next light. What if there is no more light I ask? Only darkness and evil? Evil has and will always exist She said, but so does the light. Find that place and know the light always returns. Perhaps dimmed, perhaps brightly illuminative, but the light always returns. Until that time… Rest so you are able to still build altars to new possibilities and keen over the bones of what is lost. Rest until that time you can give voice to the both/and. Until that time, vision and dream and allow the Ancestors to wrap you in ancient wisdom, ancient knowing as you embrace the sacred dark. Until such time the light rises like the woman you are, blazing and empowered and screaming like the Banshee taking no prisoners, as you build altars to the sacred new. As you remember you are a Daughter of the Cosmic Mother… Daughter of the As Above, So Below you aspire to the heights and plunge the depths as you walk between the worlds. So scream like the Banshee and keen over the bones. Light the fires of ritual and offer prayers to the Ancient and Future ones. Though the world may change, and perhaps Not in the way you desire, you will survive and even prosper IF you remember who you are and the power you hold. https://www.magoism.net/2020/04/meet-mago-contributor-arlene-bailey/ __________________________________________ The Place of the Next Light by Arlene Bailey, ©2020
(Poem) The Dead by Susan Hawthorne

Opera di circa 220mq realizzata a San Gavino Monreale col contributo dell’Associazione Culturale Skizzo, Wikimedia Commons i The dead press their faces up against mine. They speak to me endlessly of the past. Souls clamour as I near the caterwauling realm of the dead. I seek my mother, but cannot find her in this murky-aired vault. They speak to me. They tell me stories of their lives. But all I want is to speak with her. They say, First you must listen to us, you must hear our grief. Then you are free to speak with her. The bench is hard. I will not eat of the food of the dead. This much I have already learned. The table is filled with fruit: apples, pomegranate, plums, grapes, wild roses. Red onions, carrots, plaited bread and a glass of red wine are left to tempt me. The storytellers take their places around the table and begin. ii My name is Charlotte. She brushes back her corn blond hair. My mother, her sister, my great-grandmother, my great-great uncle, my great uncle and much later my mother’s mother, my grandmother all perished by their own hand. Despair was inherited with the blood of my family. I was the last. They came and took me away, took me to the camps, where their final kindness was to end the family curse. There they gassed me, along with thousands of others. But they could not kill my spirit, my life which lives on in the thousands of paintings I made. The theatre of my life. iii My name is Anonymous. I speak for all the other women whose names are unknown, but whose stories reverberate around these rooms like thunderous storms. I am not long dead, my memories still torment me. I stand in a crowd of tearful women, waiting and wailing. Willing that the lives of our fathers, brothers, husbands be spared, or if they are dead, that they did not die cruelly. The veil of a woman screams with her expired breath, seeing the names of those she loves on the list. Those of us who wait, who return to wait again and again shiver, wanting and not wanting to know. I return to my daughters in the camp and resolve to flee into the Afghani mountains when the list bearing my beloved’s name is nailed to the gate. My daughters and I will run between the flying bullets. iv I found freedom in the underworld, where circus jesters, acrobats and long-limbed stilt walkers play Russian roulette with their souls. I hardly recognise her. Is that you? Is that really you? I ask, repeating the question. Fire breathing women walk by, each question punctuated by a flaring of the mouth. Her soul retreats again and I reach out to grab her hand. Death is wheeled by on a cart such as Athena once invented. The underworld is not technologically literate, but a primitive world full of primitive passions. Death casts her eye over me and passes on. Not yet. Not for me, at least. There she is again. Mum, I call. She turns, her eyes owl-grey, where once they shone blue. A beach ball flies between us, light as a ghost. I hold her hand, cold, and press it to my hairline. Her gaze passes over my left shoulder and I wonder who she sees. I want to talk, but no speech can creep between my lips. When her mouth opens, I see neon words fly like birds but no sound … I strain to hear but there are only the faint strains of an accordion, like a circus passing by on a distant road. She makes the leap as Death cruises past again and takes her place on the horse-drawn cart. No backward glance, no regret, simply passing on. As I turn to leave the world of the dead, my eyes catch another face I know. No warning and the dead throttle past me in their rush for eternity. v And another and another. Is there no end to the greed of Death? Crossing the road in her prime, Death steers straight for her. Didn’t she notice? Did neither notice? Death did. Death stood by the bed for days. Pushed and pulled by life’s will. But Death is a bad loser, knowing that her endurance outlasts all. I spin the wheel waiting for the next game. A pomegranate rudely torn open tempts me, a glass of red wine is proffered. Souls bristle into the seats nearby, the storytellers take their place around the table and begin … May 1994-October 1996 Notes When my mother died in May 1994, I grieved for a long time. This poem references Persephone and Demeter. Persephone in her role as Queen of the Dead, who is tricked by Hades to staying in the underworld for six months of each year. The poem also tells the story of Charlotte Salomon who was captured by the Nazi’s and sent to Auschwitz. I stumbled upon a book of paintings by her called Leben? Oder Theater? (Life? Or Theater?) while staying with two German friends living in Berkeley. I was very moved, not only by her tragic story, but also by her extraordinary paintings. This life and all the other lives of women who are unnamed are important to remember, especially around the time of Halloween and All Souls Day. This poem is from my book The Butterfly Effect (2005). https://www.magoism.net/2013/12/meet-mago-contributor-susan-hawthone/
(Prose) What Goddess Feminism, Activism, and Spirituality means to me by Joanna Kujawa

My encounter with Mary Magdalene My encounter with Mary Magdalene was unexpected. Being brought up a Catholic, I was aware of her though I believed the dominant narrative of Mary Magdalene as a penitent adulteress. When I was growing up, there was not really much spoken about her being a prostitute but rather she was viewed as a young adulteress. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, I had always liked her. She seemed to me, even in those days of dogmatic ignorance, the only real person in the narratives around Jesus’ life. I thought of her as a sensual rebel who did not give in to the limitations of her time, who made her own choices. I liked this view, and she was also so very different from the very obedient Virgin Mary. “The good girl’’ of the Virgin had no appeal for me, as she was forever surrendering to whatever Fate had brought her, a passive female of the patriarchal imagination. Just as Mary Magdalene was very real to me, the Virgin had always felt like a figment of that imagination. It was not until I was well into my 30s that I began to learn the truth about Mary Magdalene, firstly through contact with the Gnostic Gospels. I remember well the moment when a friend passed me the Gospel of Mary Magdalene. I gasped at the fact that she had her own Gospel. Even in my former religious indoctrination, Mary Magdalene having her own Gospel somehow suited her. Mary Magdalene the independent woman, the woman in charge of her destiny, the woman in charge of her sexual choices. By the sheer presence of its existence, the Gospel of Mary Magdalene has changed my life. I began to research, first about her Gospel and then about her. The Gospel of Mary Magdalene was first discovered in 1896 in Egypt by a British adventurer, then other parts of the Gospel continued to be discovered in the area of Akhmin in Egypt. Scholars argue about the dating of the Gospel, as some fragments are written in Coptic but were translations of earlier Greek versions. Eventually, the first edition of the Gospel was placed at sometime around 150 CE. This dating is not surprising, as even the so-called canonical Gospels of the Bible were not written by the disciples themselves but by their disciples. Similarly, the Gospel of Mary Magdalene was most likely originally present in oral form and then put on paper for the benefit of posterity – very much the same way as the canonical Gospels were. And here she speaks to us in her own words, not those of some dogma and indoctrination, but words reflecting the inner knowledge of a bearer of secret teachings that were not given to other disciples. Soon I also learned that Mary Magdalene was never a prostitute, that it was Pope Gregory, who in the year 591 CE in his Homily 33 made convenient ‘scriptural mistakes,’ and that even the Catholic Church denied her connection to prostitution in 1969. Yet this seems too little too late. Many other documents have been discovered which confirm Mary Magdalene’s status as an independent woman and the receiver of the most secret teachings. These documents include another Gnostic Document, the Gospel of Philip, discovered in nag Hammadi, Egypt in 1945. In both of these documents she was the favoured and most spiritually evolved disciple who was envied by the male disciples, especially Peter. It is interesting that in the Christian tradition it is Peter who is revered and not Mary Magdalene. It is even more interesting that all documents stating Mary Magdalene’s position as the Apostle of the Apostles, or the first among them, were deemed as heretical at the Council of Nicea in 325 CE while the ones with Peter leading were considered ‘true’. But this is not the only betrayal that Mary Magdalene and her name have endured. Apart from the exclusion of the Gospels which claim she was the prominent figure in the movement, and even apart from the ‘mistake’ of Pope Gregory in the sixth century that made her into a prostitute. Jane Schaberg, an ex-nun, in her book Resurrection of Mary Magdalene traces how the Biblical removal of Mary Magdalene as the ‘beloved disciple’ was gradually carried out until she was completely replaced by John through a process of sheer speculation because – who else it could have been? In the patriarchal minds, certainly not that woman, right? So my encounter with Mary Magdalene has awakened in me a desire to know the truth. It has awakened in me a sense of justice. It has awakened me to the fact that greater social powers, often disguised as the ‘leaders’ of society, manipulate the truth to their advantage, that they want some of us to be disempowered. Moreover, my encounter with Mary Magdalene has taught me that this kind of manipulation of the truth is no longer possible and, as with all forms of suppression, the truth is coming up to the surface with a greater power than ever before. It has taught me that activism also has a spiritual and scholarly aspect to it and that both are powerful tools in making a shift in global consciousness. And that there is no stopping now. [This piece was previously published in She Rises: What… Goddess Feminism, Activism and Spirituality? Volume 3 (Mago Books, 2019).] (Meet Mago Contributor) Joanna Kujawa, Ph.D.
Deep Time Big Dream by Sara Wright

Photo by Sara Wright I am standing on top of a mountain looking over a landscape of unspeakable wild natural beauty that stretches as far as I can see. This is the ‘long view’ the dream -maker tells me. The trees are stretching out their lush green needles to the sky as if in prayer, and they are whole. The forests, clear waters, the animals, birds, insects, and All of Nature has been returned to a State of Grace. An Old red skinned Indian Man appears. He is a Grandfather. He is on the mountain with me but also stands below (both and). He speaks to me. “Sit, listen, this is the Song of Life”. A finely crafted flowing red clay seat appears below (it flows like a wave) although it is situated a few inches above the earth. Almost hovering. I also see a drum made from deerskin and red clay on the ground. There is a four directional equilateral black cross on the skin of the drum. The cross is thick and around the cross an intricate design is etched/inked into its skin also highlighted in black. The Grandfather speaks again. “Sit and play this drum”. I protest mightily. “I don’t know how. I know nothing, I say.” He replies: “Play! It is the song of a life”. My life? I am still protesting, but I know I will play the drum. I will do as he says, though I don’t know how. The drum is a prayer. Now, I am sitting below in front of the drum that is situated on the ground. I wake up. I will play the drum. Big picture context: For Indigenous peoples the drum is the Heartbeat of the Universe and for some Native peoples Red Earth is sacred. Indigenous peoples have been crucified since the European invasion that has destroyed the beauty of this beloved country. Indigenous peoples are the intergenerational seed savers, the story tellers that live on. Personal context: Rain. I write a story called Gary’s Garden about the joy of growing plants for him, plants that include a scarlet runner bean that is one of three of my precious heirloom seeds that uncannily survived being neglected, forgotten, saved in an unripe state last fall and miraculously came back to life again. Scarlet runner beans are Native to the Americas, one of or the oldest beans cultivated by Indigenous peoples. This bean sprout was a surprise for my Vet. All the other plants Gary has seen every time he has visited for months. In the story I am overjoyed to be able to share in the excitement of passing on these beloved beings that are already so loved by this man. And the scarlet runner was my special gift! I was aware that by seeding this bean for him that I was passing on the seeds of an unknown future in the Indigenous way, one that follows global collapse. In his story I write some words that I don’t really understand…. Plants have invisible roots that attach themselves to the person who loves them for who and what they are. Did the rooting plants catch him the way he once caught me? Rooted underground. This is, I believe, the second big dream that I have that reveals that Earth has been restored a Peace that is beyond our present comprehension (if we are living the Reality of Breakdown). The first big dream of this kind I had in New Mexico when I held an earth in my hand that was wild and untrammeled except that it was encased in plastic. For the second time (over a period of years) in a big dream there are no people. The edge of hope in these dark times lies in “deep time” millions and millions of years… Robin Wall Kimmerer gives us another example: “Mosses are the coral reef of the forest. I have faith in photosynthesis. The plants know what to do. They know how to sequester carbon. They know how to cool the air. They know how to build capacity for ecosystem services and biodiversity. Will the world be different? It will. Will there be tremendous losses? There will. Heartbreaking losses. But the evolutionary creativity of the plant world will renew itself. Plants will figure out how to come back to a homeostatic relationship with the planet.” Mycelial networks stretch back even further taking us back to the beginning of all plant life as they crocheted their webs of hyphae just below earth’s surface. And before that alga floated on warm shallow waters until she met her first fungal partner. One ate light the other ate rock and together they moved to land. Life will begin again. Blessed Be. https://www.magoism.net/2014/12/meet-mago-contributor-sara-wright

(Special Post Isis 3) 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 3 Isis, Arab Women Revolution, and Black Goddesses Naa Ayele Kumari Going back to the original topic of the post…. Some quotes ” Women are in half the society… How come there are only 7 in the Assembly… and they are all Islamist! ” I can’t beat up my wife and almost kill her and call it discipline… this is not discipline… this is abuse and insanity” http://youtu.be/y4umifTLSII 12-Year Old Explains Egyptian Revolution in Under 3 Minutes www.youtube.com Max Dashu It is tremendously heartening to see these insights being expressed, and spread. The Salafis have made such inroads, and now the pushback is happening. Harita Meenee Dear Naa Ayele Kumari, thank you actually reading my post and commenting something relevant to it. It’s refreshing when someone does hear what we have to say instead of projecting their own notions. Building a solidarity movement with those who are oppressed but fighting is very important during these critical times! Harita Meenee See also: https://www.facebook.co/intifadat.almar2a?fref=ts The uprising of women in the Arab world انتفاضة المرأة في العالم العربي حرية الفكر ، حرية التعبير ، حرية الاعتقاد ، حرية التنقل ، حرية الجسد ، حرية اللب…See More Glenys Livingstone … as you say Max …” way too much of it going on” – amongst people who should know better (I would have thought): “Dark goddess as terrifying, challenging, white goddess as benign; “black magic” as harmful; I see way, way too much of this going on out there.” And related to that in my mind is all the “love and light” business that is so common: the Ground of Being is Dark … it seems to me that mystics have always understood the quintessential darkness of Love/Deity. Max Dashu Sure. I would just like to add that the critique raised here addressed issues much broader than the substance of the article, which made some good points. But once the choice of graphics flagged the issue of representation, people had much more to say about that old yet still very fresh wound which is constantly reopened by the cultural habit of whitening Egypt, or interpreting Africa through a eurocentric lens. It is not on any one person to carry the weight of that; we all have a responsibility to address the issues, but especially those of us of European heritage need to familiarize ourselves with how this plays out over and over. Just as men have a responsibility to speak up in support of women when patriarchal assumptions are on board. We all can learn something from each other, along all the various axes of domination, and overthrow them in coalition. Naa Ayele Kumari I have often considered where the roots of this psychology comes from. It is dualistic thinking that causes us to compare and contrast, then sum up judgement of good or bad and place a value on each. It extends into competition and justification for war. It also doesn’t escape me that often this came with certain civilizations who systematically destroyed others. It didn’t just happen with blacks in Africa… but blacks in Asia and the Indus Valley as well. With the Aryan invasions of India, came the eventual introduction to lighter divinities and more emphasis on male divinities. Southern Indians, Sri Lankans are very dark… even more so than many African Blacks. The caste systems implemented by the Aryan invaders did the same thing to them casting them as “untouchables”. With that came the marginalization of their black female divinities such as Kali. Kali actually has 10-16 forms… from compassionate mother, the fountain of wisdom, to she of great beauty but she is minimized as just destructive and terrifying… especially as Brhaman, Vishnuu, and Shiva grow in popularity. One of Kali’s statues has her black self standing on top of Shiva because she conquered him. Later there is a discussion in on of the Hindu text explaining Kali (as Parvati) after being subdued by Shiva she becomes lighter. Further they have stories about him rejecting her and calling her blackie which made her do austerities to rid herself of her black skin. Naa Ayele Kumari It should not be overlooked that in the Story of Alice in Wonderland… a story intended to keep Goddess elements for future generations, has the Elder sister ( the Queen of Hearts) portrayed as man, ego, and power driven who cuts off heads and has a fierce dragon…a clear reference to Kali. The White goddess as the younger sister is her opponent… and her mission is to usurp the throne of the Queen of Hearts even though she was the rightful heir as the oldest … or primordial. Stories like these also reinforce the stereotypes and negative iconography. Max Dashu Yes, it is pervasive in many cultures of domination. Demons are portrayed as black not only in Europe, which we know well, but also in China and in a lot of Buddhist iconography. In modern India, the sweet goddesses are shown as pink, the wrathful as black; and Krishna (name means “dark”) is turned powder blue. (Another of his titles, s’yam, also meaning dark, is the word translated as “green” in Green Tara.) The countercurrents (Black Mazu, loving Kali – esp in Bengal and south India, Black Madonna) bubbled up from the common people, who knew and longed for something other than the dominant racialized hierarchy. Naa Ayele Kumari I am just discovering Mazu ( Matzu/LuShui) in China today! Never knew about her. This discussion has led me to look deeper for black goddesses in Asia. Max Dashu Taoist spiritual tradition often refers to Xüan Nü, which can be translated in several ways. You’ll usually see it rendered as “the Mysterious Female,” a phrase that occurs in the Dao De Jing (Tao Te Ching), and this is a valid translation; but what is less emphasized is that it also means “the Dark Woman.” In […]
(Special Post 3) Nine-Headed Dragon Slain by Patriarchal Heroes: A Cross-cultural Discussion by Mago Circle Members

[Editor’s Note: This and the ensuing sequels are a revised version of the discussion that has taken place in The Mago Circle, Facebook group, since September 24, 2017 to the present. Themes are introduced and interwoven in a somewhat random manner, as different discussants lead the discussion. The topic of the number nine is key to Magoism, primarily manifested as Nine Magos or the Nine Mago Creatrix. Mago Academy hosts a virtual and actual event, Nine Day Mago Celebration, annually.] Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: Xiang Yao or Xiangliu is the Chinese equivalent to Hydra in Greek mythology. And Hercules is to Yu, the Great, founder of the Xia dynasty. We will see in the course of this discussion that the myth of Yu, the founding ruler of Xia, the oldest dynasty of China, who slains the nine-headed snake, is only a variation of its older prototype, the myth of Huangdi who fought Chiu, the alliance of the Nine Han Giants (East Asian/Korean Magoists). “According to the Classic of Mountains and Seas, Xiangliu was a minister of the snake-like water deity Gonggong. Xiangliu devastated the ecology everywhere he went, leaving nothing but gullies and marshes devoid of animal life. Eventually, Xiangliu was killed by Yu the Great, whose other labors included ending the Great Flood of China. In other versions of the story, Xiangliu was killed by Nüwa, after being defeated by Zhurong, but his blood was so virulently poisonous that the soil which it soaked could no longer grow grain.[1] An oral version of the Xiangliu myth was collected as late from Sichuan as 1983, in which Xiangliu is depicted as a nine-headed dragon, responsible for floods and other harm.” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Xiangliu Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: Ancient China had to demonize the pre-Han myth of the nona Mago because it bespeaks the matriarchal/gynocentric history that it overthrew… the past that had to be severed in order to fake patriarchal originality. With this in mind, we have a better look on patriarchal mythopoeia, which appears to be complex but, nonetheless, transparent in its motive to hide/hijack pre-patriarchal gynocentric histories. “One of the most harrowing myths from ancient China is the story of Gonggong’s rebellion. You can revisit the whole story here, but the quick version is that the evil water god Gonggong attempted to drown the world and was only prevented from doing so by the heroic last resort actions of the beneficent creator goddess Nüwa, who cut the legs off the cosmic turtle in order to set things to rights. In the chaos of the climactic battle, however Gongong’s chief minister and partner in crime Xiangliu the nine-headed snake monster completely escaped. Filled with bitterness about Gonggong’s failure, Xiangliu crawled away across the soggy lands of Szechuan (which were water-logged after the nearly world-ending floods). Wherever he went, the snake monster left permanent fens and swamps which were toxic to life. His very being had become steeped in poison, and his progress through the damp and moldy world had to be stopped. Yu the hero, the third of the three sage kings, finally caught up with the nine-headed monster and killed him in a pitched battle. Yet still there was a problem: Xiangliu’s pestiferous blood has poisoned the whole region, which now stank of rot. Crops would not grow and civilization began to falter. Yu dug up the blood soaked soil again and again, but the corrupted blood of the monster just sank deeper into the ground. Finally, Yu excavated a deep valley by Kunlun mountain and rid the world of Xiangliu’s toxins. With all of the land he had excavated he built a great terraced mountain for the gods. Yu then went forth to found the kingdom of Xia, the first civilized state in Chinese history. Of course some people say that Yu did none of this, that, it was the goddess Nüwa who once again came forth to battle the monster and undo the damage he had caused. Then, with accustomed modesty she let Yu take the credit and begin his kingdom (for Nüwa cared not for empty praise and hollow glory but only for the well-being of her children).” https://ferrebeekeeper.wordpress.com/2013/09/24/xiangliu-the-nine-headed-snake/ Max Dashu: These patriarchal heroes! Nova Scheller: What a fascinating thread…that the nine headed hydra correlates to the nine headed dragon as a linkage to patriarchy or gynocentric/ matriarchal beginnings…the root being in Korea! Dropping into your work of so many years…a privilege as well as informing some of my personal awareness. Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: Nova Scheller, indeed! The myth of slaining the nine-headed snake/dragon across cultures shows; (1) The onset of patriarchy did not come naturally but forcefully, which proves that patriarchy is not original. It was a reaction to what had been before, its matrix. Patriarchy faked its originality by inventing the myth of demonizing and killing the female principle. (2) Patriarchal rules established across cultures adopted the mythic motif of slaining the nine-headed snake or dragon, which appears to be of Chinese origin. (3) The Nine Mago mythic system preserved in Korean Magoism testifies to gynocentric/matriarchal beginnings, which were remembered by peoples of the ancient world. (4) Furthermore, Korean Magoist mythology explains the origin/meaning of the nona Goddess symbol. Let’s explore how the Nine Mago pantheon was remembered in East Asian myths and religions. For this, we need to unravel the patriarchal mythopoeia of Goma, the Shaman ruler of Old Magoist East Asia/Korea. Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: In principle, we can tell if an ancient rule/culture was patriarchal or gynocentric by the myth of the nine-headed snake/dragon. In the case of ancient China whose heroes are told to have killed the opponent, the nine-headed snake. Nonetheless, the people’s memory of pre-patriarchal gynocentric history never dies. The nine symbolism is still described as auspicious. It revives time and time again throughout history. In other words, ancient China was a small regional power, only modern scholarship seals it all mighty China. Find out what other ancient myths concern about the nine female symbolism. (To be continued) Join us in The Mago Circle https://www.facebook.com/groups/magoism/.
(Special Post 5) 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.] Annie Finch For me, Goddess is completely different from God–Goddess means acceptance of the sacred WITHIN the physical instead of transcending the physical; acceptance of death and life as equally sacred; and the holiness of changing cycles…. Annie Finch, Maine anniefinch.com Marie de Kock Why Goddess spirituality? Goddess spirituality is crucial for our survival and the survival of our planet. I’m referring to every woman’s connection and relationship with her own Spirit which resides in her heart, and her own divine ability to create, which springs from her womb. The womb is infinitely more than a reproductive organ; it is a replica of the Cosmic Womb or Mago. From that profound pool of infinite silent knowledge, women can access the solutions so urgently needed to recover the equilibrium the world with its God spirituality has lost, and women can dream the solutions into being. It is the intelligence of the heart and intelligence of the womb that humanity needs in order to balance out the ill effects of our noisy ‘rational’ left brained society. Women carry the keys to the wisdom within them. Female spirituality is the door. Marie is in Chile for now http://ninenormalwomenwithwings.com Leslene Della-Madre Goddess among many things to me is a verb–Goddessing. “Goding” isn’t the same. She is Love in action in all things–she is the cosmic gen-Her-ator bringing life into form from primordial chaos, the twin serpents of coming and going. She is the plasMA of the YoniVerse filling space with her divine essence creating great beaded necklaces of galaxies all connected to each other by electric pathways. She is the All and Eternal. Leslene Della Madre, California USA midwifingdeath.com Diane Horton Sacred Goddess Sisterhood Each of our stories as women who have come to embrace the Goddess are varied and interesting. Certainly interesting to each other, as our spirits long to resonate with another who has had a similar journey. Mine began while I was still a member of the Episcopal Church and a Christian. But relative to many, it was not that long ago, just 18 years. Some women have been knowing and worshiping the Goddess for more than 30 years, some have only just come to the reawakening and re-membering recently. Some of us call ourselves witches, some priestesses, or both. Some do not identify with either of those words and simply say they have immersed themselves in the Divine Feminine, or that they worship the Goddess. Some will say they are Pagan or Wiccan or Dianic Wiccan. Whatever we call ourselves, or do not call ourselves, we are all Sisters in Goddess, those who worship the Great Mother. And though our numbers are growing, seemingly almost daily, we are still in a minority. We need those who are articulate to voice our views and we need wise teachers who can share practices, philosophy and knowledge with those who are eager for such spiritual food. One of the great things about this Goddess Path is that, although there is much written and oral knowledge to be had for those who seek it, the deepest part of this path is experiential. Personal experience with Goddess, deep within ourselves, and having our eyes opened to Her all around us all the time, seeing and feeling Her magic in our lives, knowing Her love and nurturance in our hearts. We have no dogma, no set of rules or commandments, no rigid ideology. We have our own hearts to guide us into all acts of love and pleasure, compassion, humility and reverence which are Her rituals. When we express strength, hold our power and honor life, as well as giggle and laugh, those are Her rituals, too. There are the Women’s Blood Mysteries, which set women apart from men who worship the Goddess, but that should serve to unite women in a strong eternal bond, not alienate men. There is no place for hierarchy. We are all women equal to each other as daughters of the Goddess. We cannot, we must not, allow the patriarchal mindset to contaminate Feminine Spirituality. No hierarchy, no duality, no controlling others. If we want to see a world in which the Divine Feminine is prominent, the world that many of us believe is coming, we need to take a good, hard look at ourselves in the mirror of our Sisters’ eyes and all of us individually commit ourselves to Unity, Sisterhood and Unconditional Love. That does not mean we will never disagree, and sometimes disagree vehemently, but it does mean we do not allow those disagreements to fracture us as a body of women or to damage or destroy our Sisterhood. There are many teachers who have their own followings of students, their own coursework, their own publications and newsletters, their own festivals they work all year to organize and make manifest. This is a good thing! Especially with the national economy the way it is now many, many women cannot afford to travel very far from their homes, so the fact that there are festivals in diverse parts of the country is no doubt just as the Goddess desires. Those who know of Her and hear Her call are greatly benefited by all of these in mind, heart and spirit. We all need each other. We who can spread this information far and wide need to do so, not just think of and promote the one group or project we are involved in ourselves individually. This is the BIG PICTURE. This is how the movement moves forward. This is how the Goddess gathers Her women (and men). Unification of purpose. Standing together. Supporting each other in concrete ways. We are Women of Goddess. Her spirit […]

The Ceremonial Creative Cosmos by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an excerpt from Chapter 3 of the author’s new book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. The Cosmos is a ceremony, a ritual. Dawn and dusk, seasons, supernovas – it is an ongoing Event of coming into being and passing away. The Cosmos is always in flux, and we exist as participants in this great ritual event, this “cosmic ceremony of seasonal and diurnal rhythms” which frame “epochal dramas of becoming,” as Charlene Spretnak describes it.[i] Swimme and Berry describe the universe as a dramatic reality, a Great Conversation of announcement and response.[ii]Ritual/ceremony[iii] may be the human conscious response to the announcements of the Universe – an act of conscious participation. Ceremony then may be understood as a microcosmos[iv] – a human-sized replication of the Drama, the Dynamic we find ourselves in. Swimme and Berry describe ritual as an ancient response humans have to the awesome experience of witnessing the coming to be and the passing away of things; they say that a “ritual mode of expression” is from its beginning “the manner in which humans respond to the universe, just as birds respond by flying or as fish respond by swimming.”[v] It is the way in which we as humans, as a species, may respond to this awesome experience of being and becoming, how we may hold the beauty and the terror. Humans have exhibited this tendency to ritualize since the earliest times of our unfolding: evidence so far reveals burial sites dating back one hundred thousand years, as mentioned in the previous chapter. We often went to huge effort in these matters, that is almost incomprehensible to the modern industrialised econocentric mind: the precise placing of huge stones in circles such as found at Stonehenge and the creation of complex sites such as Silbury Hill may be expressions of some priority, indicating that econocentric thinking – such as tool making, finding shelter and food, was not enough or not separate from the participation in Cosmic events. Ritual seems to have expressed, and still does actively express for some peoples, something essential to the human – a way of being integral with our Cosmic Place, which was not perceived as separate from material sustenance, the Source of existence: thus it was a way perhaps of sensing “meaning” as it might be termed these days – or “relationship.” Swimme and Berry note that the order of the Universe has been experienced especially in the seasonal sequence of dissolution and renewal; this most basic pattern has been an ultimate referent for existence.[vi] The seasonal pattern contains within it the most basic dynamics of the Cosmos – desire, fullfilment, loss, transformation, creation, growth, and more. The annual ceremonial celebration of the seasonal wheel – the Earth-Sun sacred site within which we tour – can be a pathway to the Centre of these dynamics, a way of making sense of the pattern, a way of sensing it. One enters the Universe’s story. The Seasonal Moments when marked and celebrated in the art form of ceremony may be sens-ible ‘gateways’ through the flesh of the world[vii] to the Centre – which is omnipresent Creativity. Humans do ritual everyday – we really can’t help ourselves. It is simply a question of what rituals we do, what story we are telling ourselves, what we are “spelling”[viii] ourselves with – individually and collectively. Ceremony is actually ‘doing,’ not just theorizing. We can talk about our personal and cultural disconnection endlessly, but we need to actually change our minds. Ceremony can be an enabling practice – a catalyst/practice for personal and cultural change. It is not just talking about eating the pear, it is eating the pear; it is not just talking about sitting on the cushion (meditating), it is sittingon the cushion. It is a cultural practice wherein we tell a story/stories about what we believe to be so most deeply, about who and what we are. Ceremony can be a place for practicing a new language, a new way of speaking, or spelling – a place for practicing “matristic storytelling”[ix] if you like: that is, for telling stories of the Mother, of Earth and Cosmos as if She were alive and sentient. We can “play like we know it,” so that we may come to know it.[x] Ceremony then is a form of social action. NOTES: [i] Spretnak, States of Grace, 145. [ii] Swimme and Berry, The Universe Story, 153. [iii] I will use either or both of these terms at different times: I generally prefer “ceremony” as Kathy Jones defines it in Priestess of Avalon, Priestess of the Goddess, 319. She says that ritual involves a repeated set of actions which may contain spiritual or “mundane” elements (such as a daily ritual of brushing one’s teeth), “whereas ceremony is always a spiritual practice and may or may not include ritual elements.” The PaGaian seasonal celebrations/events are thus most kin to “ceremony,” although I do not perceive any action as “mundane.” However, “ritual” is more commonly used to speak of how humans have conversed with cosmos/Earth. [iv] Spretnak, States of Grace, 145. [v] Swimme and Berry, The Universe Story, 152-153. [vi] Ibid. [vii] Abram speaks of “matter as flesh” in The Spell of the Sensuous, 66, citing Maurice Merleau-Ponty, The Invisible and the Invisible (Evanston, Illinois: Northwestern University Press, 1968). [viii] Starhawk used this term on her email list in 2004 to describe the story-telling we might do to bring forth the changes we desire. [ix] A term used by Gloria Feman Orenstein in The Reflowering of the Goddess (New York: Pergamon Press, 1990), 147. [x] As my doctoral thesis supervisor Dr. Susan Murphy once described it to me in conversation REFERENCES: Abram, David. The Spell of the Sensuous. New York: Vintage Books, 1997. Jones, Kathy. Priestess of Avalon, Priestess of the Goddess. Glastonbury: Ariadne Publications, 2006. Orenstein, Gloria Feman. The Reflowering of the Goddess. New York: Pergamon Press, 1990. Spretnak, Charlene. States of Grace: The Recovery of Meaning in the Postmodern Age. San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1993. Swimme, Brian and Berry, Thomas. The Universe Story: From the Primordial Flaring Forth to the Ecozoic Era. New York: HarperCollins, 1992.
(Essay) Summer Solstice/Litha Within the Creative Cosmos by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an edited excerpt from Chapter 9 of the author’s book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. The dates for Summer Solstice/Litha are: Southern Hemisphere – December 20-23 Northern Hemisphere – June 20-23 A Summer Solstice altar The ‘moment of grace’[i] that is Summer Solstice, marks the stillpoint in the height of Summer, when Earth’s tilt causes the Sun to begin its ‘decline’: that is, its movement back to the North in the Southern Hemisphere, and back to the South in the Northern Hemisphere. This Seasonal Moment is polar opposite Winter Solstice when it is light that is “born,” as it may be expressed. At the peak of Summer, in the bliss of expansion, it is the dark that is “born.” Insofar as Winter Solstice is about birth, then Summer Solstice is about death. It is a celebration of profound mystical significance, that may be confronting in a culture where the dark is not valued for its creative telios. Summer Solstice is a time for celebrating our realized Creativity, whose birth we celebrated at Winter Solstice, whose tenderness we dedicated ourselves to at Imbolc/Early Spring, whose certain presence and power we rejoiced in at Spring Equinox, whose fertile passion we danced for at Beltaine/High Spring. Now, at this seasonal point, as we celebrate light’s fullness, we celebrate our own ripening – like that of the wheat, and the fruit. And like the wheat and the fruit, it is the Sun that is in us, that has ripened: the Sun is the Source of our every thought and action. The analogy is complete in that our everyday creativity – our everyday actions, and we, ultimately, are also “Food for the Universe”[ii] … it is all how we feed the Universe. flowers to flames – everyday creativity consumed 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.[iii] We, and our everyday creativity, are the “Bread of Life,” as it may be expressed; just as many other indigenous traditions recognize everyday acts as evoking “the ongoing creation of the cosmos,”[iv] so in this tradition, Summer is the time for particularly celebrating that. Our everyday lives, moment to moment, are built on the fabric of the work/creativity of the ancestors and ancient creatures that went before us; and so the future is built on ours. We are constantly consuming the work and creativity of others and we are constantly being consumed. The question may be asked: “Who are you feeding?,”[v] and consideration given to whether you are happy with the answer. It is the Sun that is in you. See how you shine. Summer Solstice is a celebration of the Fullness of the Mother – in ourselves, in Earth, in the Cosmos. We are the Sun, coming to fullness in its creative engagement with Earth. We affirm this in ceremony with: “It is the Sun that is in you, see how you shine.” It is the ripening of Her manifestation, which fulfills itself in the awesome act of dissolution. This is the mystery of the Moment. Brian Swimme has described this mystery of radiance as a Power of the Universe, as Radiance: the shining forth of the self is at the same time a give-away, a decline of the self – just as the Sun is constantly giving itself away. This Solstice Moment of Summer is a celebration of communion, the feast of life – which is for the enjoying, not for the holding onto. Summer and Winter Solstices are Gateways – between the manifest and the manifesting, and Summer Solstice is a Union/Re-Union of these, a kind of meeting with the deeper self. Winter Solstice may be more of a separation, though it is usually experienced as joyful, because it is also a meeting, as the new is being brought forth. The interchange of Summer Solstice may be experienced as an entry into loss – the Cosmological Dynamic of Loss, as manifestation passes. Beltaine, Summer Solstice and Lammas – the next Seasonal Moment, may be felt as the three faces of Cosmogenesis in the movement towards entropy.[vi] The light part of the annual cycle of Earth around Sun is a celebration of the Young One/Virgin quality of Cosmogenesis, with Her face gradually changing to the Mother/Communion quality; and through the Autumn, the dark part of the annual cycle, it is a celebration of the Old One/Crone quality, whose face will gradually change also, back to the Mother/Communion. They are never separate.In this cosmology, desire for full creativity has been celebrated as the allurement of the Cosmos, and being experienced as gravity, as relationship with Earth, our place of being, how She holds us. At both Solstices there is celebration of deep engagement, communion. REFERENCES: Livingstone, Glenys. A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. Girl God Books: Bergen, Norway, 2023. Spretnak, Charlene. States of Grace: The Recovery of Meaning in the Postmodern Age. San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1993. Starhawk. The Spiral Dance: A Rebirth of the Ancient Religion of the Great Goddess. New York: Harper and Row, 1999. Swimme, Brian. Canticle to the Cosmos. DVD series. CA: Tides Foundation, 1990. NOTES: [i] As Thomas Berry named the Seasonal transitions. [ii] Swimme uses this expression in Canticle to the Cosmos, video 5 “Destruction and Loss.” [iii] This is based on the traditional Litha (Summer Solstice) rite described by Starhawk, The Spiral Dance, 206. [iv] Spretnak, States of Grace, 95. [v] As Swimme asks in Canticle to the Cosmos, video 5 “Destruction and Loss.” [vi] Just as Samhain, Winter Solstice and Imbolc may be felt as the three faces of Cosmogenesis in the movement towards toward form – syntropy.
(Essay) Winter Solstice/Yule within the Creative Cosmos by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an edited excerpt from Chapter 5 of the author’s book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. Dates for Winter Solstice/Yule Southern Hemisphere – June 20 – 23. Northern Hemisphere – December 20 – 23 This Seasonal Moment is the ripe fullness of the Dark Womb and it is a gateway between dark and light. It is a Birthing Place – into differentiated being. Whereas Samhain/Deep Autumn is a dark conceiving Space, it flows into the Winter Solstice dark birthing Place – a dynamic Place of Being, a Sacred Interchange. This Seasonal Moment of Winter Solstice is the peaking of the dark space – the fullness of the dark, within which being and action arise. It is the peaking of emptiness, which is a fullness. As cosmologist Brian Swimme describes: the empty “ground of being … retains no thing.” It is “Ultimate Generosity.”[i] In Vajrayana Buddhism, Space is associated with Prajna/wisdom – out of which Upaya/compassionate action arises. Space is highly positive – something to be developed, so appropriate action may develop spontaneously and blissfully.[ii] In Old European Indigenous understandings, the dark and the night were valued at least as much as light, if not more so: time was counted by the number of nights, as in ‘fortnights,’ and a ‘day’ included both dark and light parts … it was ‘di-urnal’. I have been careful with my language about that inclusion in the ceremonial ‘Statement of Purpose’ for each Seasonal Moment. This awareness is resonant with modern Western scientific perceptions about the nature of the Universe: that it is seventy-three percent “dark energy,” twenty-three precent “dark matter,” four percent “ordinary matter.”[iii] The truth is that we live within this darkness: it is the Ground of all Being. In Pagan traditions since Celtic times, and in many other cultural traditions, Winter Solstice has been celebrated as the birth of the God; and in Christian tradition since about the fourth century C.E., as the birth of the saviour. But there are deeper ways of understanding what is being born: that is, who or what the “saviour” is. In the Gospel of Thomas, which was not selected for biblical canon, it says: “If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you.”[iv] This then may be the Divine Child, the “Saviour”: it may be expressed as the new Being forming in the Cosmogonic Womb,[v] who will be born. We may celebrate the birth of the new Being, which /who is always beyond us, beyond our knowing … yet is within us, burgeoning within us – and within Gaia. What will save us is already present within – forming within us. The Winter Solstice story may emphasize that what is born, is within each one – the “Divine” is not “out there”: it may be said, and expressed ceremoniously, that we are each Creator and Created. We may imagine ourselves as the in-utero foetus – an image we might have access to these days from a sonar-scan during pregnancy. This image presents a truth about Being: we are this, and it is within us, within this moment. Every moment is pregnant with the new. It will be birthed when holy darkness is full. Part of what is required is having the eyes to see the “new bone forming in flesh,” scraping our eyes “clear of learned cataracts,”[vi] seeing with fresh eyes. That is what the fullness of the Dark offers – a freshening of our eyes to see the new. And the process of Creation is always reciprocal: we are Creator and Created simultaneously, in a “ngapartji-ngapartji”[vii] way. We are in-formed by that which we form. In Earth-based religious practice, the ubiquitous icon of Mother and Child – Creator and Created – expresses something essential about the Universe itself … the “motherhood” we are all born within. It expresses the essential communion experience that this Cosmos is, the innate and holy Care that it takes, and the reciprocal nature of it. We cannot touch without being touched at the same time.[viii] We may realize that Cosmogenesis – the entire Unfolding of the Cosmos – is essentially relational: our experience tells us this is so. The image of The Birth of the Goddess on the front cover of my book PaGaian Cosmology expresses that reciprocity for me, how we may birth each other and the healing/wholing in that exchange. It is a Sacred Interchange. And it is what this Event of existence seems to be about – deep communion, which both Solstices express. Babylonian Goddess, Ur 4000-3500 BCE. Adele Getty, Goddess, 33. Birthing is not often an easy process – for the birthgiver nor for the birthed one: it is a shamanic act requiring strength of bodymind, attention, courage, and focus of the mother, and resilience and courage to be of the new young one. Birthgiving is the original place of ‘heroics,’ which many cultures of the world have never forgotten, perhaps therefore better termed as “heraics.” Patriarchal adaptations of the story of this Seasonal Moment usually miss the Creative Act of birthgiving completely, usually being pre-occupied with the “virgin” nature of the Mother which is interpreted as having an “intact hymen.” The focus of the patriarchal adaptation of the Winter Solstice story is the Child as “saviour”: even the Mother gazes at the Child in most Christian icons, while in more ancient images Her eyes are direct and expressive of Her integrity as Creator. NOTES: [i] Swimme, The Universe is a Green Dragon, 146. [ii] See Rita Gross, “The Feminine Principle in Tibetan Vajrayana Buddhism.” The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology 179-192. [iii] These figures as told by cosmologist Paul Davies with Macquarie University’s Centre for Astrobiology, Australia. [iv] Elaine Pagels, Beyond Belief: the Secret Gospel of Thomas, saying number 70. See https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/religion/story/thomas.html . [v] Melissa Raphael’s term, Thealogy and Embodiment, 262. [vi] The quotes come from a poem by Cynthia Cook, “Refractions,” Womanspirit (Oregan USA, issue 23, March 1980), 59. [vii] This is an Indigenous Australian term for reciprocity – giving and receiving at the same time. I explain it a bit further in PaGaian Cosmology, 256-257. [viii] An expression from Abram, The Spell of the Sensuous, 68. REFERENCES: Abram, David. The Spell of the Sensuous. New York: Vintage Books, 1997. Getty, Adele. Goddess: Mother of Living …
(Essay) The Emergence celebrated at Spring Equinox by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

The Spring Equinox Moment occurs September 21-23 Southern Hemisphere, March 21-23 Northern Hemisphere. The full story of Spring Equinox is expressed in the full flower connected to the seed fresh from the earth; that is, it is a story of emergence from the dark, from a journey, perhaps long, perhaps short, through challenging places. The joy of the blossoming is rooted in the journey through the dark, and an acknowledgement of the dark’s fertile gift, as well as of great achievement in having made it, of having returned. Both Equinoxes, Spring and Autumn, celebrate this sacred balance of grief and joy, light and dark, and they are both celebrations of the mystery of the seed. The seed is essentially the deep Creativity within – that manifests in the Spring as flower, or green emerged One. the full story: the root and the flower As the new young light continues to grow at this time of Spring, it comes into balance with the dark at Spring Equinox, or ‘Eostar’ as it may be named; about to tip further into light when light will dominate the day. The trend at this Equinox is toward increasing hours of light: and thus it is about the power of being – life is stepping into it. Earth in this region is tilting further toward the Sun. Traditionally it may be storied as the joyful celebration of a Lost Beloved One, who may be represented by the Persephone story: She is a shamanic figure who is known for Her journey to the Underworld, and who at this time of Spring Equinox returns. Her Mother Demeter who has waited and longed for Her in deep grief, rejoices and so do all: warmth and growth return to the land. Persephone, the Beloved Daughter, the Seed, has navigated the darkness successfully, has enriched it with Her presence and also gained its riches. Eostar/Spring Equinox is the magic of the unexpected, yet long awaited, green emergence from under the ground, and then the flower: this emergence is especially profound as it is from a seed that has lain dormant for months or longer – much like the magic of desert blooms after long periods of drought. The name of “Eostar” comes from the Saxon Goddess Eostre/Ostara, the northern form of the Sumerian Astarte[i]. The Christian festival in the Spring, was named “Easter” as of the Middle Ages, appropriating Goddess/Earth tradition. The date of Easter, which is set for Northern Hemispheric seasons, is still based on the lunar/menstrual calendar; that is, the 1st Sunday after the first full Moon after Spring Equinox. In Australia where I am, “Easter” is celebrated in Autumn (!) by mainstream culture, so we have the spectacle of fluffy chickens, chocolate eggs and rabbits in the shops at that time. There are other names for “Eostar” in other places …the Welsh name for the Spring Equinox celebration is Eilir, meaning ‘regeneration’ or ‘spring’ – or ‘earth’[ii]. In my own PaGaian tradition, the Spring Equinox celebration is based on the Demeter and Persephone story, the version that is understand as pre-patriarchal, from Old Europe. In the oldest stories, Persephone has agency in Her descent: She descends to the underworld voluntarily as a courageous seeker of wisdom, and a compassionate receiver of the dead. She represents, and IS, the Seed of Life that never fades away. Spring Equinox is a celebration of Her return, Life’s continual return, and thus also our personal and collective emergences/returns.We may contemplate the collective emergence/returns especially in our times. I describe Persephone as a “hera”, which of old was a term for any courageous One. “Hera” was a pre-Hellenic name for the Goddess in general[iii]. “Hera” was the indigenous Queen Goddess of pre-Olympic Greece, before She was married off to Zeus. “Hero” was a term for the brave male Heracles who carried out tasks for his Goddess Hera: “The derivative form ‘heroine’ is therefore completely unnecessary”[iv]. “Hera” may be used as a term for any courageous individual: and participants in PaGaian Spring Equinox ceremony have named themselves this way. The pre-“Olympic” games of Greece were Hera’s games, held at Her Heraion/temple[v]. The winners were “heras” – gaining the status of being like Her[vi]. At the time of Spring Equinox, we may celebrate the Persephone, the Hera, the Courageous One, who steps with new wisdom, into power of being: the organic power that all beings must have, Gaian power, the power of the Cosmos. This Seasonal ceremony may be a rejoicing in how we have made it through great challenges and loss, faced our fears and our demise (in its various forms), had ‘close shaves’ – perhaps physically as well as psychicly and emotionally. It is a time to welcome back that which was lost, and step into the strength of being. Spring Equinox/Eostar is the time for enjoying the fruits of the descent, of the journey taken into the darkness: return is now certain, not tentative as it was in the Early Spring/Imbolc. Demeter, the Mother, receives the Persephones, Lost Beloved Ones, joyously. This may be understood as an individual experience, but also as a collective experience – as we emerge into a new Era as a species. Thomas Berry and Brian Swimme speak of the ending of the sixty-five million year geological Era – the Cenozoic Era – in our times, and our possible emergence into an Ecozoic Era. They describe the Ecozoic Era as a time when “the curvature of the universe, the curvature of the earth, and the curvature of the human are once more in their proper relation”[vii]. Joanna Macy speaks of the “Great Turning” of our times[viii]. Collectively we have been away from the Mother for some time and there is a lot of pain. At this time we may contemplate not only our own individual lost wanderings, but also that of the human species. We are part of a much bigger Return that is happening. The Beloved One may be understood as returning on a collective level: …
(Mago Almanac Excerpt 3) Introducing the Magoist Calendar by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

Mago Almanac: 13 Month 28 Day Calendar (Book A) Free PDF available at Mago Bookstore. MAPPING THE MAGOIST CALENDAR According to the Budoji, the Magoist Calendar was fully implemented and advocated during the period of Old Joseon (ca. 2333 BCE-ca. 232 BCE) whose civilization is known as Budo (Emblem City). Indeed, the Magoist Calendar is referred to as the Budo Calendar in the Budoji. Budo was founded to succeed Sinsi and reignited Sinsi’s innovations including the numerological and musicological thealogy of the Nine Mago Creatrix. The Budoji expounds on the Magoist Calendar as follows: The Way of Heaven circles to generate Jongsi (a cyclic period, an ending and a beginning). Jongsi circles to generate another Jongsi of four Jongsi. One cycle of jongsi is called Soryeok (Little Calendar). Jongsi of Jongsi is called Jungryeok (Medium Calendar). Jongsi of four Jongsis is called Daeryeok (Large Calendar). A cycle of Little Calendar is called Sa (year). One Sa has thirteen Gi (months). One Gi has twenty-eight Il (days). Twenty-eight Il are divided by four Yo (weeks). One Yo has seven Il. A cycle of one Yo is called Bok (completion of a week). One Sa (year) has fifty-two Yobok. That makes 364 Il. This is of Seongsu (Natural Number) 1, 4, 7. Each Sa includes a Dan of the big Sa. A Dan is equal to one day. That adds up to 365 days. At the half point after the third Sa, there is a Pan of the big Sak (the year of the great dark moon). A pan comes at a half point of Sa. This is of Beopsu (Lawful Number) 2, 5, 8. A Pan is equal to a day. Therefore, the fourth Sa has 366 days. At the half point after the tenth Sa, there is a 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.[12] KEY TERMS Calendric Cycles Jongsi (終是 Ending and Beginning): Cyclic periods Soryeok (小曆 Little Calendar): One year Jungryeok (中曆 Medium Calendar): Two years Daeryeok (大曆 Large Calendar): Four years Names of Year, Month, Day, Week Sa (祀 Rituals, year): One year refers to the time that takes to complete the cycle of rituals. Gi (期 Periods, month): One month refers to the period of the moon and menstruation cycle. Il (日Sun, day): One day refers to the sun’s movement due to Earth’s rotation. Yo (曜 Resplendence of seven celestial bodies, Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn, week): Each weekday is dedicated to seven celestial bodies. Bok or Yobok (曜服 Duties of the Celestial Bodies, completion of a week): One week refers to the veneration of the seven celestial bodies. Names of Monthly Transition Days Hoe (晦 Eve of the first day of the month, 28th) Sak (朔 First day of the month, 1st, the dark moon) Names of Intercalation Days Dan (旦 Morning): Leap day for New Year Pan (昄 Big): Leap day for every fourth year Names of Time Units Gu (晷 sun’s shadow): Time measure, 1/300 Myo Myo (眇 minuscule): Time measure, a total of 300 Gu Myo-Gak-Bun-Si (眇刻分時 minuscule, possibly 15-minutes, minute, hour): Time measure, 9,633 Myo-Gak-Bun-Si is equal to a day Names of Three Types of Numbers in Nine Numerology Seongsu (性數Natural Number): 1, 4, 7 in the digital root Beopsu (法數 Lawful Number): 2, 5, 8 in the digital root Chesu (體數 Physical Number): 3, 6, 9 in the digital root THREE SUB-CALENDARS The Way of Heaven circles to generate Jongsi (a period, an ending and a beginning). Jongsi circles to generate another Jongsi of four Jongsi. One cycle of jongsi is called Soryeok (Little Calendar). Jongsi of Jongsi is called Jungryeok (Medium Calendar). Jongsi of four Jongsis is called Daeryeok (Large Calendar). The universe is infinite without beginning and ending. Everything runs the course of self-equilibration in relation to everything else. The Way of Heaven or the Way of the Creatrix circles and makes possible the infinite time/space to be measured and calculated. As the Way of Heaven circles, we are able to perceive Our Universe in finite measures of time/space. Time becomes measurable, as space is stabilized. Seasons and days-nights are demarcated in cyclic patterns, as the Earth makes the three cyclic movements of rotation, revolution, and precession. Calendar, born out of the inter-cosmic time, synchronizes human culture with the song/dance of the universe. The term Jongsi, which means an ending and a beginning, is equivalent to “a cyclic period” that is marked by the beginning and the end. Time (a day, a month, and a year) circles, as space (the Earth, the Moon, and the Sun) spirals. The Magoist Calendar has three sub-calendars: The period of one yearly cycle is called Little Calendar, whereas the period of two yearly cycles is called Medium Calendar and the period of four yearly cycles, Large Calendar. To be continued. (Meet Mago Contributor, Helen Hye-Sook Hwang) Notes [12] Budoji, Chapter 23. See Bak Jesang, the Budoji, Bak Geum scrib., Eunsu Kim, trans. (Seoul: Gana Chulpansa, 1986).
(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.

(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 …
(Essay 1) How Did I Fall In Love with Korean Historical Drama? by Anna Tzanova, M.A.

Go to online class, Korean Historical Dramas. “To become a kairomancer¹, you need to learn to trust your feelings as you walk the roads of this world, to develop your personal science of shivers, to recognize in your gut and your skin and in free-floating impressions that you know far more than you hold on the surface of consciousness. You need to take care of your poetic health, reading what rhymes in a day or a season. You want to expect the unexpected, to make friends with surprises, and never miss that special moment.” ~ Robert Moss² After a year and a half of work without a day off; driving 100-150 miles every other day; writing past midnight every night; at the end of July 2011, overwhelmed by fatigue, I finally decided to take a weekend off. Little did I know, that time off would last over seven months, during which I would not only change my job, but also acquire a new passion.
(2018 Mago Pilgrimage) Peak of Nine Wells in Yeongam (Spiritual Rock), South Jeolla by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D.

[Author’s Note: This essay comprises a summary report and its unfolding awakenings to be unraveled in sequences. I dedicate this essay to my 2018 Mago Pilgrimage companions, Narayani Ankh, Kate Besleme, Hyunsuk Jee, and Julie Jang. Learn more about Mago Pilgrimage.] Hike Report The town, Yeong-am (Spirit Rock), emanates an aura from its Magoist natural, historical, and cultural legacies. Among them, what grabbed my attention include Wolchul-san (月出山 Moon Rising Mountain), Dogap-sa (Dogap Temple), and Gurim Village, known for the birth place of Doseon Guksa (State Master Doseon), a prominent Buddhist monk, the 9th century of Silla (827-898). I was most attracted to the Peak of Nine Wells (九井峰 Gujeong-bong) as well as the Loom Cave shaped in the form of a vulva, part of the Moon Rising Mountain ranges. Our goal was to hike the Peak of Nine Wells (hereafter Gujeong-bong). We took the seemingly shortest trail, through Cheonwang-bong (Peak of Heavenly Ruler), the highest peak of Moon Rising Mountain, 809 km above sea level. It took about 8 hours for the entire hike took about 8 hours and it was one of the two most strenuous and significant ones that I have taken. About 30 years ago, I climbed Mt. Halla in Jeju Island and had received the vision of my life. No longer a youth, I had a much clearer vision about my life and the act of high altitude hiking this time. With my two companions, Narayani Ankh and Kate Besleme, who showed no sign of hesitation or tiredness in the beginning and throughout the course, I embarked my day’s journey. With occasional breaks, we were able gain distance and progress. Beautiful streams adorned the valley. Rocks were emitting the oldest song of the earth. Our talks continued and deepened, when we had breath to spare. It was such a blessing that I had these two co-hikers from elsewhere! My mind zoomed in and worked in detail. All thinking and feeling became registered. Impromptu, I began to count my steps up on stiff wooden stairways. My counting one, two, three… and thirteen carried me to the top of the stairs. The 13 counting chant worked; There was no medium between me and WE/HERE/NOW. We were gifted a 360-degree bird’s eye view on Cheongwang-bong. Several ridges with the depth of Magoist history came within a vision. We took a small lunch break. On a high mountain top wherein all remains visibly related, everyone becomes kin. On Cheongwang-gong, we were instructed by the rangers we met along the journey about the ridge path to Gujeong-bong. Gujeong-bong would be about another one and half hour hike away from us. We passed by a few masses of gigantic boulder formations for which Wolchul-san is known for. Among them was the standing stone called the Phallic Rock, a name that I suspected to be original. For standing stones are called the Rock of Mago Halmi in other regions of Korea. In any case, the very existence of the Phallic Rock (남근바위 Namgeun Bawi) heralded the appearance of the Loom Cave, a misnomer for the Yoni Cave (여근바위 Yeogeun Bawi). Heart beatings escalated as we approached our destination. We finally reached the Loom Cave, which closely resembled the vulva. The cave was made of a huge boulder, three times taller than an average person in size. A small pond sat inside the entrance made the cave a real yoni of nature. I was pulled into the state of trance, as we made a final climb up the stairs around the left side of the Loom Cave. I was able to see that the Peak of Nine Wells is located on the top plain of the Loom Cave. It is part of the yoni cave! I saw a number of wells pocketed in various sizes of ponds. They numbered more than nine, about 13, variable in number in that a couple of them were made in between adjacent boulders. The biggest well was larger than one meter (3.3 feet) in diameter. Moderns do their typical things in a time like this, indeed odd out of other options or necessity to share with others: I took photos of the wells and my companions, which were absolutely beautiful as they were. However, mental imprints were not able to be contained then and in nature. WE/HERE/NOW embraced all on the spot, perhaps like a black hole. Casual conversations wouldn’t continue. The silence and the oneness fast permeated our time/space. Our minds worked on layers. The deepest mind was stored in the reservoir of the unspoken. Descending is good as a time/space of tuning/balancing oneself to the power of WE/HERE/NOW. There wasn’t much time left for us to return, while the sun was still out. We hurriedly descended a different tail. I was no longer the same person I was prior to the experience of hiking Gujeong-bong. No need to dig up and count the number of branches in one’s root. To live means to grow and evolve, as we are meant to be. To be continued. (Meet Mago Contributor) Helen Hye-Sook Hwang.