October 17, 2025September 17, 2025 RTM Co-Editor M Saracino2 Comments

(Poem) Kinship by Mary Saracino

Nature scene New Mexico, photo by Mary Saracino Trees and bees birds and beasts rivers and seas butterflies and whales flowers and weeds thistles and grains clouds and sky moon Read More …

Meet Mago Contributor, Donna Snyder (RIP)

Donna Snyder’s poetry collection, As Meaningful as Any Other, will be published by Gutter Snob Books in the summer of 2022. Other books of her poems include I Am South (Virgogray Press, Austin, Texas), Poemas ante el Catafalco: Grief and Renewal (Chimbarazu Press, New York City), and The Tongue Has Its Secrets (NeoPoiesis Press, Vancouver Island). She has read her work in Alaska, Boston, Denver, Los Angeles, Seattle, New York, and throughout New Mexico and Texas. Snyder previously served as an editor for Return to Mago magazine. She was fiction editor of an international anthology and chief editor of a chapbook for Unlikely Books. Snyder edited a poetry page for the El Paso Bar Journal, a magazine for local lawyers and judges. She also volunteered as poetry curator for Newspaper Tree, a borderlands political periodical, publishing poets from throughout the United States. She founded the Tumblewords Project, a grassroots literary organization, in 1995 and continues to organize its free weekly workshops and other literary events in the borderlands around El Paso, Texas. Her poetry and book reviews appear in a number of anthologies and journals such as Oxygen, Poetry Bay, She Rises, Original Resistance, Setu, Red Fez, Queen Mob’s Teahouse, VEXT Magazine, Mezcla, Miriam’s Well, Lummox, and Speak the Language of the Land. A translation of her poetry into Bangla will be featured in a small magazine in Bangladesh. She previously practiced law representing indigenous people, people with disabilities, and immigrant workers.
(Prose) Feeding the Birds…. Refuge by Sara Wright

Photo by Sara Wright It’s another gray snowy day with large white flakes falling from the sky… January lasts “forever” every single year. I feed chickadees on my window ledge until the squirrels show up; then I scatter seed on the ground. Chickadees begin their day just before 7 AM when it is still dark, coming to the ledge. Today the turkeys are absent, fluffed up monks still hidden under hemlock boughs. The blood male cardinal appears with his usual message. I peer into the forest as the turkeys make their way across the brook and start up the hill while gazing at sage green shield lichens and two pure white birches that stand out like sentries, peeling white skin. Some maples and many hemlocks border the brook that is running clear of ice. A multitude of twigs and evergreen spires sway, branches twist and bend filling every inch of space, a comforting sight, even though all the deciduous trees are bare. Global warming turns snow to rain and back again in every storm creating ice bound paths, easily traversed by my little dogs. Dangerous for me. Often now I am housebound. This gray world of mine needs animation from within… The birds and my little night- flying squirrel remind me that flight can be a good exercise, even if it is only in my mind – but any flight I may make must be attached to my body. My body needs solid grounding and the separation I feel from rich brown earth, now covered by snow threatens to sever one from the other, I know. That I need extra protection at this time of year is sharply etched in my psyche. I light sage daily as I invoke the Four Directions. Following my dreams closely I receive nudges like those I feel and sense when I am free to roam through my favorite forest. I meditate on a dream of a blue green serpent with red crosses on his back. Blue green earth and betrayal behind my back. I am forewarned… Paying close attention to my beloved dogs and indoor plants, I take deep pleasure from the fact that all are thriving. Twice now two plants have spoken; one imaged an offering I needed to make for personal protection. Another produced an illumination: The root connection to my children remains, part of the great underground mycelial network, regardless of their behavior. I feel ambivalence around this news having suffered for so long, and finally being purged of want or need, the latter a Life Blessing. A second dream tells me to add a frog to my enclosure, a place where a child that is also me lives … The next dream reveals that this child is no bigger than a little red berry (berries contain seeds) and that living inside a protected space allows her to thrive because she is safe. Yet another dream reveals an emerald evergreen princess pine, a diminutive forest ground cover shimmering through the snow. The meaning behind this plant dream remains obscure until I spy the spore bearing tuft in my winter bouquet. Severing the ‘candle’ from the plant I carefully spread the seed dust on the moss of my terrarium. Seeds! Offering or Intention – I am not sure – probably both. My terrarium is bursting with life. Last fall I collected wild plants from the beloved forest, where my little brother roams free, to fill a container…. By creating a miniature woodland without conscious intention, I created a safe space, not just for a child but for me. Every morning I open the doors to mist the air and let the sweet earth scent of a forest in miniature remind the adult that winter is but one of four seasons and spring will come. Inside this oasis a partridgeberry catches my eye immediately. Little stone frog sits at the edge of the pool, the She Bear is in the foreground, head bowed, her red heartline hidden. Both Zuni fetishes. Lichen and mosses abound, dripping from lichened wood. Hemlock heartwood, driftwood from the deep lies against the glass; two hemlock seedlings are planted just to the right. Death to Life. Rotting leaves curl, brown edged, like Pulmonaria, once common now a rare lichen. Gradually a few stones move in, chert from Changing Woman’s Mountain, granite from my friend an Oglala Sioux Medicine Man. The first two offerings I was instructed to leave here for Winter Protection… A few wispy turkey feathers lay against the back glass wall. The child directs who and what enters this space; plants and my dreams fill in the blanks. Imagination turns the key. Until this morning I thought we were finished with offerings, but I was wrong. As I read an article that Carolyn Lee Boyd had written about witch stones, I suddenly recalled my brother’s Algonquin amulet, one he used to wear around his neck. Rummaging through my old jewelry bag I discovered the leather thong, but inexplicably it had been cut. The round stone with its hand drilled hole was gone. How could this be? Bereft, I tore through everything I had before finding lost treasure. Clasping the stone in hungry hands it suddenly hit me. The anniversary of my brother’s death was five days away. Every year for the last 51 years there has been something that re -attaches me to him in a visceral way… Here was the final offering. This one for the dead. When I examined the petroglyphs etched on the stone I remembered the fish, the sun, and the arrow on one side. The opposite side held the end of the story picturing a teepee – like structure, a place to hang fish, and stars falling to earth. A prayer for good fishing? A Witch Stone. When I looked at the rounded edge I was stunned. I didn’t remember that a serpent circled the periphery, meeting up with a lizard, face to face. Serpents and Lizards – north and south. …
(Pandemic Poem 6) The New Ones by Jyoti Wind

Golden Rose, Photo by Jyoti Wind The New Ones The old Gods tumble like huge mountains, tumbling backwards on themselves. The land and seas take them back, bury them with love, as their time is over. The new Ones rise, hearts ablaze with love, light radiating from their brow, to illuminate the path they will walk with the people, partners in the new earth, come from far off finally to blaze forth the new time, the future Golden Age we were all born to initiate. https://www.magoism.net/2020/08/meet-mago-contributor-jyoti-wind/
(Fiction/Essay) What Foolishness is This? Cerridwen’s Cauldron is for All of Us by Carolyn Lee Boyd

Cerridwen. By Christopher Williams. Art UK, Public Domain “What foolishness is this?” Cerridwen’s voice railed in exasperation and anger over the drone of my inner voice as I reread Her myth. Not waiting for my reaction, She continued. “I look out over your world and see how my gift of inspiration has been misused, the opportunity for divine creation taken away from most people in your age of celebrity and the idolatry of fame and fortune, leading to a dulling of your world and imaginative catastrophe. My story as you have heard it has beauty and meaning but perhaps it is now time to change perspectives and see it also from another point of view. Let me tell you a second version of the story. J.M. Edwards ‘Y Mabinogion’, Wrexham., 1901, Public Domain “When my son was born he was called Afagdu, ‘Utter Darkness.’ Because he did not look like other children, it was feared he would never be accepted by society. What child is ugly to a mother? If no one else would love him, I would make up for it by loving him a thousand times more, not by having him drink some overboiled elixir. “Brew up a potion from herbs to give him brilliance and wisdom, they said. Do they think that I do not have the power to see into the future, that I do not know what would happen? That evil servant Gwion stole the concoction. And the cauldron burst open and poisoned the world. Or so they thought. I did indeed make a mixture of herbs, but not the one they believed. “They said I chased Gwion aided by my friends who let me borrow their bodies, the greyhound, an otter, a hawk, and a hen. Knaves. Why would I chase someone who stole something that can never be stolen, if indeed it had been genius? Or that, in reality, was worthless to him? Did they think I couldn’t make more potion if I had wanted to, if the potion had been what gave the gift of the muses? “They say I ate the traitor Gwion as a grain of wheat and gave birth to him as the great bard Taliesin. Who thinks I could be forced to unwillingly give birth to such a one? Gwion escaped our household and made up a tale to explain his odd origin when he wished to be perceived as a great bard of mythical origins. “I did give birth when I heard the story he had conjured, but not to a being, but rather to a revelation that inspiration belongs not to the gods and their chosen elite, but rather to all. Brilliance comes not from memorizing hundreds of stories, poems, and genealogies like the bards, but from hard-won life experience and the knowledge it brings that love is our only true muse. “But I let the story continue to be told far and wide. I did not speak against it because it uttered helpful truths, but here is another beneficial true story. How much love must a mother have for her child to carefully forage and prepare the herbs, then place them in a gigantic pot, and ensure they are carefully tended for a year and a day? Would not Afagdu have received from this not false genius, but the knowledge that, though he was reviled by everyone else, his mother deeply loved him? Might this have not given him the confidence he needed to find the virtuosity within himself to write dazzling poetry and be the most celebrated bard in history had not Gwion intervened? Might his name Utter Darkness instead have meant the womb inside the Earth and within each of us where we take the manifestations of love and make them into artistic jewels that shine, sometimes in their terribleness, sometimes in their joy of being? Might not the works of Gwion, later known as Taliesin, actually have been those of Afagdu, the credit stolen by history once both were long gone from the human realm? By Steve Jurvetson – Flickr: Dragon’s Breath, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=32756767 “When the cauldron broke, it was not poison that spilled across the world, it was imagination and artistry. The gods had wanted the genius of creation to be under their control, to be only for those they chose, with no love, grace, or passion for life’s everyday beauty. They thought that since I was immortal, too, I would be their servant and let Gwion steal the potion. But I did not, nor did they know that the potion was nothing more than random herbs and that the love of its making was the magic. “Instead, once Afagdu had been made luminous by the mixture made possible by my motherly love, I spread the potion over the whole world, into those places that ordinary humans, as the gods call them, (Are there ordinary humans? No, anyone who survives life as a mortal is extraordinary) venture but never the gods. I infused inspiration into the daily and seemingly mundane acts of romance, into human cries of grief heard only by themselves and those close to them, into the warmth of small acts of friendship, into the billion exchanges between parents and children that happen every day, into the often silent human yearning for the sea and forest. It is now inextricably part of everything on Earth that bridges humans to other elements of their cosmos, all that helps them find and fulfill their place in the realm of mortality. The bounty of the cauldron was not a potion, but love and the knowledge of how to use it to create works of beauty, wisdom, and truth out of the struggles and delights of daily human life. “Taking inspiration from the tyranny of the gods and giving it to humanity is how I now choose to use my own enlightenment.” And then Her voice was silent. In the 21st century’s world it can seem as if Cerridwen’s cauldron …
(Doll Art 2) The Spirit Dolls by Hannah Baek Wha

“Mary, Mari and Me” by Hannah Baek Wha The dolls came about through a series of synchronistic events, dreams and online communication, born from, inspiring and creating deep friendships with artists and medicine people of Native American heritage in New Mexico, Nebraska and of Mexico. Each doll was entirely hand assembled by Hannah, and created as a deeply spiritual meditation to connect to the unique “Spirit” heart of each individual. Hannah always treats each Spirit Doll with great care. If there is a face, she paints the face and eyes in only when the entire doll has been sewn, out of respect for the spirit of the doll in its creation. Once the face has been painted/acknowledged, the doll is then carefully wrapped in a shawl so that it feels safe and protected while watching it’s clothing being hand sewn. Once each doll is complete, there is a blessing ceremony comprising of smudging, drumming and spoken prayers before the doll is sent to its human spirit guardian. The name “Spirit Doll” was suggested for the dolls by her spiritual father, the Elder 3Crows of the Asanti Dakota tribe. The term Spirit Dolls is from a description in the book Fool’s Crow, Wisdom and Power Through the making of the Spirit Dolls, Hannah has been invited to the United States, to study the Red Road with a medicine woman in New Mexico, as well as her spiritual father 3Crows. (Meet Mago Contributor) Hannah Baek Wha.
(Pilgrimage 1) Eight Devi Temples in Kumaon, Uttarakhand, India by Krista Rodin

[Editor’s Note: This and forthcoming parts are the report of pilgrimage visits made during October 2022.] The province of Uttarakhand in Northwest India borders Nepal on the east, Tibet on the north, Himachal Pradesh on the west and Uttar Pradesh and Haryana to the south. It used to belong to Uttar Pradesh under the British, and before that for a short time most of the eastern portion, Kumaon (also spelled Kumaun) and a small portion of the west, Gahrwal, were conquered by the Nepali Gurkas and the region belonged to Nepal. The province broke away from Uttar Pradesh in the 1970s with the two major sections with their distinct cultures as one unit. Traditionally, there have been multiple capitals in the region. Today, the main provincial capital is in Dehra Dun in Garhwal, but Nainital still remains a major center as does Almora, both former capital cities of the Kumaon region. The entire province of Uttarakhand is called “Home of the Gods” and has many sacred pilgrimage sites. The region features prominently in The Mahabharata, the major Hindu epic chronicling the history of the deities and development of the world. The Pandava brothers, leading protagonists in the epic, were supposed to have settled in the region and had their last meal here before they transcended into heaven. The region is filled with myth blended history and this form of living tradition permeates local daily life. Having had the pleasure of visiting many sites in Garhwal in the past, I wanted to take this opportunity to visit the most sacred sites in Kumaon, especially the sites of the seven rishis. These were ancient, probably mythological, gurus who set the stage for the stories that comprise Indian mythology. The temples they are related to are in both of the former capital cities as well as Kausani and Ranikhet. Photo by Krista Rodin Naini Devi I arrived on the 8th day of Navratri, a festival worshipping the nine forms of Shakti/Devi – the Divine Feminine. The streets in Nainital were full of cars and people; it was mass tourism at its height – all with domestic tourists as Nainital is home to the renown Naini Devi temple. Naini Devi is associated with Nanda Devi, who takes her name from the mountain (or vice versa), and also with Durga. Nainital is also a Shaktipeeth site. According to legend, Shiva’s first wife, alternately called Umma, Sati, or Parvati, (depending on legend/purana) was the daughter of the King of the Himalayas and her father was upset that she married someone who he didn’t find suitable for his daughter. She married him anyway, but when a major festival came around and all the relatives were supposed to be present, Shiva wasn’t invited. This upset his wife so much that she threw herself in the fire. Shiva was devastated and went into a rage, which allowed the demon Taraka to cause havoc in the world. Vishnu, the one responsible for maintaining proper working order in the cosmos, took it upon himself to jolt Shiva out of his psychosis and cut up the deceased’s body spreading the parts all over the Indian subcontinent, so that Shiva would once again fulfill his mission of creating constant change. Sati’s eyes landed in Nainital, so a temple was built to honor the Goddess. There are differing accounts of how many Shaktipeeths there are, some say 51, others 54, yet others over 70, and a few say 108. I have found that there are local Shaktipeeths that are not recognized as official sites but are considered to be the place where part of Sati’s body fell by the local populace. This is especially true in Nepal. Nothing in Hindu legends is simple, and I’ve had to learn that my Western way of wanting a succinct logical response to questions in regard to Indian mythology or history is an exercise in futility. There are multiple truths as there are multiple gods as there are multiple ways of approaching and responding to situations. The Naini Devi Temple lies directly on the shore of the lake, with the Goddess watching over the waters and surrounding hills. Upon entering the site there is a large orange sculpture of Hanuman, which I found particularly odd as Nanda Devi kicked him off her mountain. When I asked whether I had mistaken the figure for someone or something else, I was assured that it was in fact Hanuman and that people in the region are partial to his worship, so he has his own temple at the entrance to the site. When one goes down a few steps to the temple grounds, Hanuman is directly in front to the right, the place to put one’s shoes to the left (shoes are not to be worn in any of the temples), and the lake lined with priests offering tikas (the red and yellow paste on the third eye) and blessings in front. There is an arch with bells hanging down. One is supposed to ring the bell to alert the deity of one’s presence, a temple form of knocking. Off to the left, is the main single temple for Naini/Nanda Devi, and then at the end the major temple with five Goddesses, with Durga in the middle and Sakand, Kusahmanda, Selputri and Parvati on the either side. While I was there, the priest was performing a fire purification puja which was wonderful to watch. At the end of the hall with the five deities and up a few steps are four rooms with idols. There were three rooms that were dedicated to Krishna and Radha and one to nine deities, including Lord Golu, a local demigod. I was fortunate to be able to take pictures and videos of the puja and site, except for inside the Naini Devi Temple. She is not to be photographed. (To be continued) https://www.magoism.net/2018/09/meet-mago-contributor-krista-rodin-ph-d/
Mary’s Prayer by Sara Wright

Photography by Sara Wright The words of the mantra suddenly materialized in my mind and spilled out of my mouth as I drove home, exhausted from the days chores. Simultaneously a sharp pain lodged itself in my lower back. Astonished by hearing myself repeat the familiar words as the pain intensified it took a moment for me to connect the two. I was experiencing family anguish and it was coming through my words and through my body. Although I am not a catholic I repeated Mary’s prayer opening my heart to the person that needed deep comfort. I could sense a door opening…a threshold being crossed. I had already dreamed that my aunt had died the night she did. “The Queen is Dead”, the dream said. My aunt Terry, a very simple, religious, and loving woman lived her life surrounded by a light that was palpable. Calling her Queen was appropriate. I sent Billy, my cousin, six pure white roses attaching the words “Roses in the Snow” to the card after the phrase appeared out of thin air while I was sitting on the porch at twilight. __________________________________________________________ When I first fell in love with Mary it was in a grotto. Although I knew she was a statue she seemed like a living Presence in that lovely walled garden so fragrant with roses. My five year old self was still whole … Mary was my first goddess. In my house religion had no place, so I kept Mary and the secret garden to myself although Mary drew me back many times to be with her. A few kind nuns (I called them mums) told me stories about how Mary was the Mother of God – but god had no meaning. Mary, on the other hand became a kind of Muse. Is that where I learned the words “Hail Mary full of Grace, blessed are thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb…”? The Jesus part didn’t become part of the prayer for me until much later, and that’s another story. When I was older ‘Hail Mary’ comforted me even after I learned more about Mary – that she wasn’t divine but bore a god – god remained scary but Mary grew into one of the Mothers of all Living Beings and so she remains today. __________________________________________________________ The phone was ringing as I entered the house. Billy was calling… I listened to heartbreak and a sea of tears that needed shedding, how his mother loved him as a child, held him in her arms comforting him… On and on. My aunt Terry was one of those remarkable women who seemed almost unearthly in temperament. I don’t mean that she wasn’t grounded. But there was that shining light around her that drew me to her as a child. I loved her, though I rarely saw my aunt because of family strife. Her life revolved around being a good mother to her sons and a good wife to my uncle. After my uncle Alex’s untimely death, my cousin Billy cared for his mother until dementia finally took her from him…Even then he continued to visit her regularly still caring for her in every possible way that mattered. Now, many years after losing her in mind, he was finally losing her for the second time in body. She died September 8th. No wonder he was inconsolable (it doesn’t escape me that my father Billy’s uncle went through the very same thing with his mother – family patterns do repeat). Billy and I are kindred souls, although apparently having very different religious perspectives. He is Catholic and I am an animist who finds the divine in Nature. What’s interesting about this difference is that Billy can’t reach across the chasm to experience my perspective as legitimate, yet mine encompasses his with ease. It took me awhile to understand that part of the reason for this split is that Billy does not live in his body – his religion tells him that his spiritual self is all that matters and he is presently struggling with the question around having a soul that survives death while being subsumed in mother grief. And this brings me back to what happened to me in the car. Something important was coming through both my mind and body; someone I loved needed my help. Thankfully, I have finally learned how to live in my body and to trust my senses to lead me, so I question nothing. Most of the time. When mind and body come together with a message like the one I received I don’t have to understand the particulars. All I have to do is follow directions, and I did. By the time Billy and I got off the phone my backache was gone. I will not be attending my aunt’s funeral today because I live too far away and have no place to leave my dogs. But as I told my cousin I will be with him. What I plan to do at 1:30PM is to be in a forest I love offering “Hail Mary” to my aunt and praying for Billy’s comfort as he navigates the difficult decent into grieving instead of running away from it, (something we have discussed at length and he understands and can feel the importance of doing), thankfully. I believe the forces of Nature will see to it that my heartfelt prayers and intentions will reach their destination… “Hail Mary full of Grace, blessed are thou amongst women…” Blessed is my Aunt Terry. The Mother Goddess is always listening. https://www.magoism.net/2014/12/meet-mago-contributor-sara-wright/
Meet Mago Contributor, Hearth Moon Rising

Hearth Moon Rising (U.S.A.) Hearth Moon Rising is a Dianic Priestess living in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York. She blends goddess magic and folklore in her blog, http://hearthmoonrising.com/. She is the author of Invoking Animal Magic: A guide for the Pagan priestess. http://invokinganimalmagic.com. * * Previously Published Posts by Hearth Moon Rising Older Posts (Essay 4) The Old Sow by Hearth Moon Rising (Essay 3) The Old Sow by Hearth Moon Rising (Essay 2) The Old Sow by Hearth Moon Rising (Essay 1) The Old Sow by Hearth Moon Rising (Essay) When the Drummers Were Birds by Hearth Moon Rising (Interview) Women and Shamanism: An interview with Max Dashu by Hearth Moon Rising (Essay 5) The Animal Mother Goddess by Hearth Moon Rising (Essay 4) The Animal Mother Goddess by Hearth Moon Rising (Essay 3) The Animal Mother Goddess by Hearth Moon Rising (Essay 2) The Animal Mother Goddess, by Hearth Moon Rising (Essay 1) The Animal Mother Goddess by Hearth Moon Rising (Essay) The Messages of Birds by Hearth Moon Rising (Essay) The Linden Prophesy by Hearth Moon Rising (Essay) The Magic Comb by Hearth Moon Rising (Radio Interview) Nature-based spirituality with Hearth Moon Rising by Susun Weed (Essay) Ninhursaga and the Fox by Hearth Moon Rising (Essay) How to Create a Patriarchal Pagan Group in 12 Steps by Hearth Moon Rising (Essay) Ratatosk, The Red Scoundrel by Hearth Moon Rising (Essay) ‘The Hard Side of Aphrodite’ by Hearth Moon Rising ‘Ereshkigal Pronounces a Verdict’ by Hearth Moon Rising The Forest Queen: Mielikki and the Bear by Hearth Moon Rising
(Nine Poets Speak) The Littlest Balsam by Sara Wright

[Editors’ Note: Learn about how the “Nine Poets Speak” series came to be in place here.] Photo by Sara Wright Five years agoI dug a seedlingin protestki’s deep greenneedlesslender trunkand rootsyieldedto sweetspring earthwith prayers.I believed.One winter nightI will celebrateyour lifethe lives ofthousandswith acandlelitspiralof tiny white lights.Tonightwhite flames adorn youold longingsand heartbreakwe share the samerootstilled bysimple beautya singlereflectionof Love.Throughyou I honor all the restGreening all yearlong.I mournthe multitudesbalsams standinglike footless soldierscut away from earthdyingto celebratea holidaypoisonedby disbeliefconsumptionand doingseculardelusion.When Iwrapped youin white starsI couldhardly waituntilduskturnedmidnight blueshroudedroundmooncottony cloudsscudding acrossthe skiesGreat Bearhungover your headsky jewelsand storiescelebratingyour comingof ageOh fragrantbalsamthroughyou I honorAll Evergreensfor thosewho can’t feelMay beneficentwinds and powderywinter snowswrap your needlesand branchesgently, securely root tips sparklingSleep soundlyIn Peace.Ancient MotherFather ofAll BreathGifter of Lifebe with uslet your scentssurround usyour rootssustain us…I beg youin your Great Mercyand everlasting patiencebathe usin acceptance,andNatural Grace.Author’s Note: This year I have been living in a very dark place. As usual I am protesting what is happening with the holidays that begin with Thanksgiving turkeys and the mindless murder of more trees. This holiday extends until after the first of the year when the consumer obsession that dominates our culture finally flattens out. That great maw feels like it’s swallowing me whole despite my attempts to remind myself that I was once part of this story having been brought up as a westerner.I make it a yearly practice not to buy anything during a season that is dominated by collective greed and lack of awareness when people and animals and trees and fungi are suffering throughout the world. Instead, I choose to offer others my experiences…But at the same time, I am exhausted. Tired of political murders and ecocide. Tired of feeling that protesting anything doesn’t matter, though I am compelled to continue on. Tired of reminding myself that I need to be grateful.Unlike millions of others, I have enough heat, some water, food, a most loving canine companion, and a warm cabin to live in at the edge of a frozen stream and small forest fragment. I know I need to be grateful, but I have not been able to FEEL it, and this lack of feeling upsets me most of all.On Thanksgiving I fed all my wild turkeys, taking great pleasure from their deep appreciation which they expressed through continuous twittering.For the first time, I also decorated and lit a small balsam tree that I had planted outside my east window under a glorious white moon that slipped in and out of the trees. After thawing frozen fingers and sitting by the fire I gazed out at the little tree and felt a spark of joy enter me. I remember imagining this little balsam being lit to celebrate all living trees…What happened? Whenever I am trying to untangle a mystery, I turn to words. The poem that emerged helped me remember who I am—a person who feels deeply—a person who finds herself living in a culture that is beyond her comprehension—a person who understands that it is up to me to create meaning despite what is happening , meaning that includes myself and extends to the rest of nature.I celebrate the Great Round, and my ceremonies mark these transitions, but this year I have been too depressed to engage. When this happens, I pray a lot to the trees as I walk expressing my hopelessness and begging for reprieve. Two months of silence.When I lit that tree a spark flew through the window—a mystical bird reconnecting me on a feeling level to what this tree lighting means to me. I am celebrating the Tree of Life as she manifests as an evergreen, and by extension my return to the roots that have sustained me throughout my life. This morning I wept as I peered out the window onto monochromatic grays, and a half frozen brook, trees burdened by heavy snow (once considered too early in the season) by extending my love to all trees. Relief was palpable. That’s when I understood that my simple gesture of planting and tending to one small balsam for five years and then lighting her helped restore my broken relationship to all trees.To be in touch with any feeling besides rage and hopelessness is to experience profound relief.Now perhaps I can light my indoor Norfolk pine, create my solstice wreath, celebrate the solstice fire, give thanks, and enter Winter Light. (Meet Mago Contributor) Sara Wright – Return to Mago E*Magazine

(Special Post Mother Teresa 4) A Role Model for Women? by Mago Circle Members

Part IV: Illumination and Consensus Reached [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.] Diane Horton: [C], how is it that you do not see that MT had no right to sacrifice other people for any purpose whatsoever? None of us have the right or the place to “sacrifice those we care about” for anything. She was not “above them”. And she had abundant means to do far more for them, to cure and comfort them. If indeed she imagined she had some lofty motivation as you so fervently believe, to use the power she had to withhold medical care from the poverty stricken sick and dying in some misguided and ultimately cruel attempt to bring the world’s attention to their suffering and produce compassion within those who would not otherwise feel it is the most monstrous miscarriage of any expression of what you might refer to as “love” that I have heard of outside of Jim Jones killing all of his followers in Ghana. That’s not Love. That’s not Compassion. That is Manipulation, and manipulation is ego-based. Anne Wilkerson Allen: Yes. It is an indoctrination so deep and so prolonged that it takes a lifetime to overcome…and we rely on the love and compassion of others to help bring us to this understanding….thanks, Diane. Diane Horton: Love you, Anne. [C]: Is thinking that any human being sacrificing inside their very soul, their morals, & all that entails, is actually of lesser value than outside human pain, suffering, even death itself, right? Diane Horton: I’m not sure I understand the question really, but I’ll try a response: one’s inner and outer life are of equal importance because they are all the whole person.
(Special Post 6) 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.] Esther Essinger “Why Goddess, when “GD” is perpetrating so much grief? 1) First, it’s vital to know that Goddess is NOT “GD” in a skirt. It is demanded of NO one that they “believe” or “have faith”, so there can be no guilt (and no punishment! (No Hell below us, thank you John) in NOT choosing to interest oneself in these particular Stories, myths, legends and tales which center the Cosmic Female, the Universal Mother, Mother Earth /Mother Nature at their core. No evangelism happening here!
(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 […]

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.
(Art & Poem) Candelmas/Imbolc by Sudie Rakusin & Annie Finch

IMBOLC DANCE From the east she has gathered like wishes. She has woven a night into dawn. We are quickening ivy. We grow where her warmth melts out over the ice. Now spiral south bends into flame to push the morning over doors. The light swings wide, green with the pulse of seasons, and we let her in We are quickening ivy. We grow The light swings wide, green with the pulse till the west is rocked by darkness pulled from where the fire rises. Shortened time’s reflecting water rakes her through the thickened cold. Hands cover north smooth with emptiness, stinging the mill of night’s hours. Wait with me. See, she comes circling over the listening snow to us. Shortened time’s reflecting water Wait with me. See, she comes circling From Calendars (Tupelo Press, 2003) Art is included in Celebrating Seasons of the Goddess (Mago Books, 2017). (Meet Mago Contributor) Sudie Rakusin (Meet Mago Contributor) Annie Finch
(Prose & Photography) Equinox Reflection by Sara Wright

Photography by Sara Wright I gaze out my bedroom window and hear yet another golden apple hit the ground. The vines that hug the cabin and climb up the screens are heavy with unripe grapes and the light that is filtered through the trees in front of the brook is luminous – lime green tipped in gold – My too sensitive eyes are blessedly well protected by this canopy of late summer leaves. The maples on the hill are losing chlorophyll and are painting the hollow with splashes of bittersweet orange and red. The dead spruces by the brook will probably collapse this winter providing Black bears with even more precious ants and larvae to eat in early spring. I only hope that some bears will survive the fall slaughter to return to this black bear sanctuary; in particular two beloved young ones… Mushrooms abound, amanitas, boletes morels, puff balls, the latter two finding their way into my salads. The forest around my house is in an active state of becoming with downed limbs and sprouting fungi becoming next year’s soil. The forest floor smells so sweet that all I can imagine is laying myself down on a bed of mosses to sleep and dream. The garden looks as tired as I am; lily fronds droop, yellowing leaves betraying the season at hand. Bright green pods provide a startling contrast to fading scarlet bee balm. Wild asters are abundant and goldenrod covers the fields with a bright yellow garment. Every wild bush has sprays of berries. My crabapple trees are bowed, each twig heavy with winter fruit. Most of the birds have absconded to the fields that are ripe with the seeds of wild grasses. The mourning doves are an exception – they gather together each dawn waiting patiently for me to fill the feeder. In the evening I am serenaded by soft cooing. One chicken hawk hides in the pine, lying in wait for the unwary…Just a few hummingbirds remain…whirring wings and twittering alert me to continued presence as they settle into the cherry tree to sleep, slipping into a light torpor with these cool September nights… Spiders are spinning their egg cases, even as they prepare to die. I can still find toads hopping around the house during the warmest hours of the day. Although the grass is long I will not mow it for fear of killing these most precious and threatened of species. I am heavily invested in seeing these toads burrow in to see another spring. My little frogs sit on their lily pads seeking the warmth of a dimming afternoon sun. Soon they too will slumber below fallen leaves or mud. I am surrounded by such beauty, and so much harvest bounty that even though I am exhausted I take deep pleasure out of each passing day of this glorious month of September, the month of my birth. Unlike many folks, for me, moving into the dark of the year feels like a blessing. Another leave -taking is almost upon me, and I am having trouble letting go of this small oasis that I have tended with such care for more than thirty years… I don’t know what this winter will bring to my modest cabin whose foundation is crumbling under too much moisture and too many years of heavy snow. In the spring extensive excavation will begin. A new foundation must be poured and this work will destroy the gardens I have loved, the mossy grounds around the south end of the house that I have nurtured for so long. In this season of letting go I must find a way to lay down my fears, and release that which I am powerless to change. Somehow… I have no idea what I will return to except that I have made it clear that none of my beloved trees be harmed. I am grateful that Nature is mirroring back to me so poignantly that letting go is the way through: That this dying can provide a bedrock foundation for another spring birth. As a Daughter of the Earth I lean into ancient wisdom, praying that this exhausted mind and body will be able to follow suit. (Meet Mago Contributor) Sara Wright.
Happy New Year, Year 2/5916 Magoma Era! by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

“The Bell of King Seongdeok, known as the Emille Bell, a massive bronze bell at 19 tons is the largest in Korea.” Wikimedia Commons. Cast in 771, the bell reenacts the music of whales to remind people of the Female Beginning, the self-creative power innate all beings. Today is Day 2 of the New Year in the reconstructed Magoist Calendar characterized by 13 months per year and 28 days per month. We are heading toward the Solstice that falls on Dec. 21/22 (Day 5 of the first month in the Magoist Calendar), which happens to be the day of the first full moon of Year 2. Below is the details about the Magoist Calendar. https://www.magoacademy.org/2018/03/27/magoist-calendar-13-month-28-day-year-1-5915-me-2018-gregorian-year/ The Gregorian year 2018 marks a watershed in that we began to implement the Magoist Calendar. The Magoma Era is based on the onset of the nine-state confederacy of Danguk (State of Dan, the Birth Tree) traditinally dated 3898 BCE-2333 BCE. We just passed Year 1 or 5915 Magoma Era (the Gregorian 2018). For Year 1, we had the New Year Day on December 18 of 2017, the first new moon day before the December Solstice. That makes December 18 of 2017 our lunation 1, the first lunar year that the reconstructed Magoist Calendar determines its first day of the Year 1! Although relatively short in history, the Mago Work began to celebrate the Nine Day Mago Celebration on the day of December Solstice annually since 2015. With the reconstructed Magoist Calendar, we placed it in its due timeframe, the Ninth Month and the Ninth Day, which fell on August 8, 2018 (US PST) and celebrated it for the first time according to the Magoist Calendar. Apparently, this had to be a mid-Summer event. This left us with another seasonal event, the New Year/Solstice Celebration. For Year 2, we hold the 3 Day New Year/Solstice Celebration on December 20, 21, and 22 (December 22 to be the Solstice Dat in PST) and the Virtual Midnight Vigil as a precussor to the New Year Day. http://www.magoacademy.org/2018/07/17/2018-5915-magoma-era-year-1-nine-day-mago-celebration/ https://www.magoacademy.org/home-2/new-year-solstice-celebrations/ We just greeted the Year 2 by holding the event called Virtual Midnight Vigil during which we sounded the Korean temple bell, in particular the Emile Bell or the Divine Bell of King Seongdeok the Great, to the world. A few from around the globe (Germany, Korea, Italy and the US) participated in it or hosted their own local vigils. The Korean temple bell is the key symbol for the Magoist Calendar as well as the Magoist Cosmogony. It is not a coincidence that it is struck on the midnight of the New Year’s Eve. It is Korean tradition that even modern Koreans gather at the bell tower in Seoul to hear the sound of the bell at midnight. And these bells are gigantic weighing 19 tons in the case of the Emile Bell. That this convention has an ancient Magoist root remains esoteric. For not only they strike the bell 28 times in the evening indicating the 28 lunar stations that the Moon stops by in the sky throughout the year (please read below what the 28 day lunar journey means and how it is represented by women). But also the Korean temple bell is no mere acoustic device to play the beautiful sound only. It is designed to reenact the Magoist Cosmogony. https://www.magoacademy.org/2018/12/14/virtual-midnight-vigil-dec-17-2018-to-new-year-year-2-5916-magoma-era/ That said, that is not what’s all about the Korean Magoist convention of welcoming the New Year by sounding the temple bell, however. That the bell sound is a mimicry of the music of whales has been in the hand of wisdom seekers! Ancient Korean bells testify that whales are with us in the journey of the Moon and her terrestrial dependents headed by women. You may like to hear the sound of the Magoist Korean whale bell included in the Participation Manual for Virtual Midnight Vigil below. Happy New Year to all terrestrial beings in WE/HERE/NOW! https://www.magoacademy.org/2018/12/16/participation-manual-for-virtual-midnight-vigil-year-2/
(Essay and Video) Cosmogenesis Dance: Celebrating Her Unfolding by Glenys Livingstone

The dance begins with two concentric circles, which will flow in and out of each other throughout the dance, resulting thus in a third concentric circle that comes and goes. The three circles/layers are understood to represent the three aspects of Goddess, the Creative Triple Dynamic that many ancients were apparently aware of, and imagined in so many different ways across the globe. In Her representation in Ireland as the Triple Spiral motif, which is inscribed on the inner chamber wall at Bru-na-Boinne (known as Newgrange)[1], She seems to be understood as a dynamic essential to on-going Cosmic Creativity, as this ancient motif is dramatically lit up by the Winter Solstice dawn. It seems that this was important to the Indigenous people of this place at the time of Winter Solstice, which celebrates Origins, the continuing birth of all. Thus I like to do this Cosmogenesis Dance, as I have named it[2], at the Winter Solstice in particular. The three aspects that the dance may embody, and are poetically understood as Goddess, celebrate (i) Virgin/Young One – Urge to Be as I have named this quality – the ever new differentiated being (also known as Fodla in the region of the Triple Spiral)[3]. This is the outer circle of individuals. (ii) Mother – the deeply related interwoven web – Dynamic Place of Being as I have named this quality – the communion that our habitat is (also known as Eriu in the region of the Triple Spiral)[4]. This is the woven middle circle where all are linked and swaying in rhythm. (iii) Crone/Old One – the eternal creative return to All-That-Is – She who Creates the Space to Be as I have named this quality (also known as Banba in the region of the Triple Spiral)[5]. This is the inner circle where linked hands are raised and stillness is held. The three concentric layers of the dance may be understood to embody these. The Cosmogenesis Dance represents the flow and balance of these three – a flow and balance of Self, Other and All-That-Is. It may be experienced like a breath, that we breathe together – as we do co-create the Cosmos. Thomas Berry and Brian Swimme have named the three qualities of Cosmogenesis in the following way: – differentiation … to be is to be unique – communion … to be is to be related – autopoiesis/subjectivity … to be is to be a centre of creativity.[6] The three layers of the dance may be felt to celebrate each unique being, in deep relationship with other, directly participating in the sentient Cosmos, the Well of Creativity. The Cosmogenesis Dance as it is done within PaGaian Winter Solstice ceremony expresses the whole Creative Process we are immersed in. It is a process of complete reciprocity, a flow of Creator and Created, like a breath. There is dynamic exchange in every moment: that is the nature of the Place we inhabit. The dance may help awaken us to it, and to invoke it. The Cosmogenesis Dance on YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dR73MDMM9Fk For more story: Cosmogenesis Dance for Winter Ritual For Dance Instructions: PaGaian Cosmology Appendix I Meet Mago Contributor Glenys Livingstone NOTES: [1] The Triple Spiral engraving is dated at 2,400 B.C.E. [2] This dance is originally named as “The Stillpoint Dance”, or sometimes “Adoramus Te Domine” which is the name of the music used for it. I learned it from Dr. Jean Houston in 1990 at a workshop of hers in Sydney, Australia. I began to use the dance for Winter Solstice ceremony in 1997, and it was only in the second year of doing so that I realised its three layers were resonant with the three traditional qualities of the Female Metaphor/Goddess, and also the three faces of Cosmogenesis. I thereafter re-named and storied the dance that way in the ceremonial preparation and teaching for Winter Solstice. See Glenys Livingstone, PaGaian Cosmology: pp. 280-281 and 311. [3] Michael Dames, Ireland: a Sacred Journey, p.192. [4] Michael Dames, Ireland: a Sacred Journey, p. 192. [5] Michael Dames, Ireland: a Sacred Journey, p. 192. [6] Brian Swimme and Thomas Berry, The Universe Story, p. 71-79. I have identified these qualities with the Triple Goddess, and the Triple Spiral in the synthesis of PaGaian Cosmology: see Glenys Livingstone, PaGaian Cosmology, particularly Chapter 4: https://pagaian.org/book/chapter-4/ References: Dames, Michael. Ireland: a Sacred Journey, Element Books, 2000. Livingstone, Glenys. PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion. Lincoln NE: iUniverse, 2005. Swimme, Brian and Berry, Thomas. The Universe Story: From the Primordial Flaring Forth to the Ecozoic Era. NY: HarperCollins, 1992.
(Art & Poem) Spring Equinox by Sudie Rakusin & Annie Finch

A SEED FOR SPRING EQUINOX . . . till I feel the earth around the place my head has lain under winter’s touch, and it crumbles. Slanted weight of clouds. Reaching with my head and shoulders past the open crust dried by spring wind. Sun. Tucking through the ground that has planted cold inside me, made its waiting be my food. Now I watch the watching dark my light’s long-grown dark makes known. Art and poem are included in Celebrating Seasons of the Goddess (Mago Books, 2017). (Meet Mago Contributor) Sudie Rakusin (Meet Mago Contributor) Annie Finch

(Book Excerpt 1) Mago Almanac Planner for Personal Journey by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D.

[Author’s Note: Year 4’s Mago Almanac celebrates the birth of Mago Almanac Planner for Personal Journey. The Magoist 13 month 28 day calendric movement has grown steadily and we welcome the public as well!] PREFACE: What Mago Almanac Planner Offers The Mago Almanac Planner for Personal Journey enchants people and our societies to live with a sense of the natural timespace patterned by the luni-menstrual rhythm in company with the earth’s song and dance. This is not a statement of poetic fancy unsupported by science or mathematics. We are invited to walk through the matrix of Sonic Numerology, the organizing force of Life. The 13 month 28 day Magoist Calendar returns calendric regularity to us. Calendric regularity is the very vision that unfolds the metamorphic reality of WE/HERE/NOW. Unlike the 12 month irregular day calendar that modifies the natural rhythm to serve the purpose of controlling people, the Magoist Calendar guides human activities within the natural rhythm to harmonize the human world with the natural world. The Mago Almanac Planner is built to provide flesh to the bones of the Mago Almanac. Taking the latter as foundation, Mago Almanac Planner partitions a year into the units of weeks and days. The regularity of 28 days makes it possible to lay out 52 weeks and 364 days with one or two extra days seamlessly. The rhythm of nine numbers becomes transparent. Each day of a year is named accumulatively in order i.e. the first to 364th. Likewise, each week of a year is named accumulatively in order i.e. Week 1 to Week 52. Each day is given the daily number, the moon phase, and/or 24 Seasonal Marks. Special days include such double dates as New Year (1st Moon 1st Day), double second (2nd Moon 2nd Day), double third (3rd Moon 3rd Day), and so forth. By writing the Mago Almanac Planner, I have observed that Double Ninth (9th Moon 9th day) overlaps with the 16th mark of 24 Seasonal Marks, Ipchu (立秋 Entering Fall) or Lammas in the Northern Hemisphere. The day of Double Ninth is indeed the center point of a year! Also the interval of 24 Seasonal Marks is about every 15 days, whereas that of 8 Seasonal Marks is about every 45 days. In three Appendixes, I have provided a traditional style of one year calendar, Year 4’s 364 Days (52 Weeks) with 2 Extra Days and their Gregorian Dates or the conversion chart, Large Calendar 1 (Years 1-4) marked in Gregorian C. Dates, and Year 4 Lunar-Menstrual Chart in which one can add their menstrual dates in relation to the moon phases and seasonal marks. As a whole, the Mago Almanac Planner is designed to personalize one’s own celebratory or commemorative days in tune with nature’s rhythm. This Planner marks the 4th year (Volume 4) of the revived Magoist Calendar, Mago Almanac: 13 Month 28 Day Calendar. We are about to complete the first Large Calendar, which refers to the first four years (Years 1-4). We set the new moon date (December 18) before Winter Solstice in 2018 in the Northern Hemisphere as the first lunation of the revived Magoist Calendar. If we count the year from the onset of the nine-state Danguk confederacy (3898 BCE-2333 BCE) founded by Goma, Magoist Shaman Queen Mother, our Year 1 would be 5916 ME (Magoma Era). Technically speaking, the Magoist Calendar formed at the time of our beginning came to be reincarnated on December 18, 2018 in the Northern Hemisphere (hereafter it implies the Northern Hemisphere otherwise indicated.) The year 2018 for the rebirth of the revived Magoist Calendar was arbitrary in that it could have been in 2017 or 2019. In retrospect, I must say that we are lucky to set the time of our first lunation on December 18 2018 because it makes the calendric migration process the smoothest. This means that our Magoist Calendar runs as less as 13 days behind the Gregorian Calendar. If we had begun in 2017, our New Year would have been December 17. Only one day difference. However, if we had begun in 2016, our New Year would have been on November 29. Likewise, if we had begun in 2019, our New Year would have been on November 26. These dates are the new moon date before Winter Solstice, the New Year day. The Magoist Calendar charts the human world into the Reality of WE/HERE/NOW. The Magoist Calendar needs to be in use today, which means that it has to be translated into the language of the Gregorian Calendar. For we have lost the actual counting of the Magoist Calendar into our days in the course of patriarchal history. Mago Almanac serves the purpose of making our calendric migration possible from the 12 month Gregorian Calendar to the 13 month Magoist Calendar. It guides our collective journey in the Mother TimeSpace interwoven by the cosmogonic force of Sonic Numerology, the musical interplay of nine numbers, which gives birth, nurtures, and transforms all beings in the cosmos. Intriguingly, I have realized only last year that the Magoist Calendar is identical with “the 13 Moon Turtle Calendar,” the calendar of North American indigenous peoples, which adopts the turtle shell that has 13 inner sections and 28 outer sections for the calendar of 13 moons and 28 days (see figure). This speaks volumes that the 13 month 28 day calendar was once widely known among peoples of the ancient world. The Magoist Calendar restores the link between lunation and menstruation as a 28 day monthly cycle, a topic that I have discussed in my essay, “Introducing the Magoist Calendar: Original Blessing of the Womb Time,” included in this planner. Why do we need to reinstate the calendar that is based on the luni-menstruation rhythm? That is because the Magoist Calendar is in accordance with Sonic Numerology. Put differently, the moon-women duet inscribed in the 13 month 28 day calendar is given by the Natural World. In fact, the Magoist Calendar is the first and …
(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.
(Essay 1) Magoist Cetaceanism and the Myth of the Pacifying Flute (Manpasikjeok) by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D.

Pod of narwhals, northern Canada, August 2005. Image courtesy of Kristin Laidre. Wikemedia Commons Manpasikjeok (the pacifying flute that defeats all) is a legendary flute, purportedly made from a narwhal’s tusk, originating in the 7th century Silla (57 BCE-935 CE). King Sinmun (r. 681-692) had a revelation concerning “a bamboo tree” growing on a mysterious mountain floating in the Sea of Whales, today’s East Sea of Korea. From this tree, a flute was made with which he was able to protect the whole world. As a national treasure of Silla, this instrument was famed to defeat all enemies at the time of troubles. What we have is the accounts of the pacifying flute recounted in Korea’s official historical texts. Two sources from the Samguk Sagi (Historical Records of the Three States) and the Samguk Yusa (Memorabilia of the Three States) shall be examined. Not surprisingly, whales are made unrecognizable not only within the story but also in the official history books of Korea. Magoist Cetaceanism was subjected to erasure in the course of Korean official history, but apparently not in the time of King Sinmun of Silla. The myth of Manpasikjeok testifies to Sillan Magoist Cetaceanism upheld by 7th century Sillan rulers. We are reading a Magoist Cetacean myth, however, told by people of a later time when Magoist Cetaceanism was no longer recognized. The fact that these two official historical texts of Korea recount the narrative of Manpasikjeok speaks to its significance: The story is told with a sense of mystery or suspicion. While the Samguk Sagi overtly treats the author’s sense of disbelief, the Samguk Yusa provides a full narrative in tantalizing but mystified details. How was Manpasikjeok 萬波息笛 created in the first place? Below is the Samguk Sagi version of the story: According to Gogi (Ancient Records), “During the reign of King Sinmun, a little mountain emerged in the East Sea out of nowhere. It looked like a head of a turtle. Atop the mountain there was a bamboo tree growing, which became two during the day and became one at night. The king had his subject cut the bamboo tree and had it made a flute. He named it Manpasik (Pacifying and Defeating All).” Although it is written so, its account is weird and unreliable.[1] Written by Gim Busik (1075–1151), a Neo-Confucian historiographer, the above account betrays an unengaged author’s mind in the story. For Gim, Korean indigenous narratives like Manpasikjeok are anomalous, if not unreliable, by the norms of Chinese history. In contrast to the former, the Samguk Yusa details the Manpasikjeok story in a tantalizing sense of mystery. Its author Ilyeon (1206-1289) was a Buddhist monk, a religious historian who saw the history of Korea as fundamentally Buddhist from the beginning. He elaborates the story with factual data but fails to bring to surface the cetacean underpinning of the myth. It is possible that Magoist Cetaceanism had already submerged much earlier than his time. King Sinmun (r. 681-692) had built the temple, Gameun-sa (Graced Temple), to commemorate his late father King Munmu (r. 661-681) who willed to become a sea dragon upon death. The relic of King Munmu had been spread in Whale Ferry (Gyeongjin 鯨津), also known as the Rock of Ruler the Great (Daewang-am) located in the waterfront of the East Sea also known as the Sea of Whales. Evidence substantiates that King Munmu was a Magoist Cetacean devotee clad in a Buddhist attire. Or today’s Buddhologiests call it Esoteric Buddhism. The Manpasikjeok myth may be called the story of King Sinmun’s initiation to Magoist Cetaceanism. Before explicating the Samguk Yusa account, which is prolix and complex, I have summarized the Samguk Yusa’s account as follows: (Summary of the Manpasikjeok Myth) King Sinmun ordered the completion of Gameunsa (Graced Temple) to commemorate his deceased father, King Munmu. The main hall of Gameunsa was designed at the sea level to allow the dragon to enter and stroll through the ebb and flow of the sea waves. In the second year of his reign (682 CE), Marine Officer reported that a little mountain in the East Sea was approaching Gameunsa. The king had Solar Officer perform a divination. The divination foretold that he would be given a treasure with which he could protect Wolseong (Moon Stronghold), Silla’s capital. This would be a gift from King Munmu who became a sea dragon and Gim Yusin who became a heavenly being again. In seven days, the king went out to Yigyeondae (Platform of Gaining Vision) and saw the mountain floating like a turtle’s head in the sea. There was a bamboo tree growing on its top, which became two during the day and one at night. The king stayed overnight in Gameumsa to listen to the dragon who entered the yard and the substructure of the main hall. Then, there was darkness for seven days due to a storm in the sea. After the sea calmed, the king went into the mountain to meet the dragon. The dragon told him that, if he made a flute out of the bamboo tree, the whole world would be pacified. The king had the bamboo tree brought out of the sea and made it into a flute, which became a treasure of Silla. The mountain and the dragon disappeared. The flute, when played during times of the nation’s trouble, brought peace. Thus comes its name, Manpasikjeok (the pacifying flute that defeats all). During the reign of King Hyoso (r. 692-702), his son, the flute continued to make miracles. Thus it was renamed Manmanpapasikjeok (the pacifying flute that surely defeats all of all). One day, it was reported to King Sinmun that a little mountain was approaching Gameunsa. That mountain had a mysterious bamboo tree atop. On the seventh day from then, he went out to Yigyeondae (Platform of Gaining Vision), the whale watch place near Gameumsa. Then, he stayed overnight in Gameunsa to hear the dragon who entered the temple yard through the ebb and flow of the …