February 23, 2026January 7, 2026 RTM Co-Editor M Saracino3 Comments

(Poem) My Beloved Sisters by Mary Saracino

Trinacria personal archives, photo by Mary Saracino We were birthedfrom the same woman’s body,emerging from the pain of our mother’s labor,screaming, proclaiming ourexistence to ourselvesand to her.Each a girl-child.Me, the Read More …

(Poem) Lost texts by Susan Hawthorne

Etruscan tombs in Tarquinia, Italy. © Susan Hawthorne, 2013 This poem is one of a series of poems from my book Lupa and Lamb. They are poems invented on the basis of language research, and they tell the history of women as I would read it, if only more evidence survived. As Monique Wittig wrote, “Make an effort to remember. Or, failing that, invent” (1972). In Lupa and Lamb, Curatrix is our guide, and she runs the Musaeum Matricum where all the evidence we wished had survived is assembled. The Lost Texts poems range from 300,000 BP through to 2011 CE and range through a wide range of times and places.The two photos are of the Etruscan tombs in Tarquinia, Italy. © Susan Hawthorne, 2013. Lost text: Etruscan: ativu and antinacva. circa 1500 BCE Translations ativu: Etruscan: mother atinacva: Etruscan: grandmother lupu: Etruscan: the body lying flat Notes by Curatrix This poem has been re-membered from fragments found in an Etruscan necropolis. While it has been possible – after several years of painstaking work – to put the words together (a poet was needed to help in this task), we believe we now have a text as close to the original as possible. The title of the poem is a reference to the mother [ativu] and the grandmother [atinacva]. These two words are terms of endearment, so it becomes immediately clear that the author/speaker is the child of this mother. As only the maternal relatives appear to be present, we can readily say that the child is a daughter. This is borne out by the term ‘breast to breast’ in the final stanza we have available. The poem describes a night ritual that takes place following the death of the speaker’s aunt [mother’s sister, sometimes called moster]. The grandmother is regarded as having powers of future sight. An haruspex is a person who can read the entrails of animals. The wind appears to be an important player in the dispersal of the mother’s sister’s spirit. Not only the wind itself, but the uh-huh singing followed by the playing of wind instruments at dawn. The word ‘lupu’ has not been translated because there is no easy way to do so in English. Lupu refers to the body, lying flat. It signifies that the spirit, the person who formerly held that body, has now released her grasp and has left the house of the body. The wind instruments are picked up as both a farewell and a reminder to any dawdling spirit that now it is time to leave. Etruscan tombs in Tarquinia, Italy. © Susan Hawthorne, 2013 https://www.magoism.net/2013/12/meet-mago-contributor-susan-hawthone
(Poem) The Trees Talk to Me by Mary Saracino

Los Altos Trees, photo credit: Mary Saracino The trees talk to me. They tell me to slow down, don’t push it. let the wind pour through me. I need to be sturdy enough to bend gracefully, and yield to powers bigger than me. If I do not heed their message, I will break. I can’t find the seed the core of what I came here for. I want to crack open and pour forth spilling words cascading sentences a wild waterfall of paragraphs and stories. I want to froth like an ocean creating meaning from the ebb and flow of my ferocious passions. But I am parched, hard with the insistence of “NOW!” The birches watch and smile. With papery curled eyes they wait for me to relax and breath. “Go play,” they say. “Go play. The rest will come.” The wind whispers her tender invitation tickling the leaves with the promise of inspiration. Out of play the images will flutter my heart will dance and I will freely express all manner of glorious beginnings. https://www.magoism.net/2013/05/meet-mago-contributor-mary-saracino
(Poem) The Racial Contract by Francesca Tronetti, Ph.D.

[Author’s Note: I read an article from the Atlantic, got enraged, got inspired, and out came this poem. “The Coronavirus Was anEmergency Until Trump Found Out Who Was Dying”]. A nurse at a New York hospital has shared a powerful photo amidst the coronavirus pandemic. Buzzfeed News shared the image, which depicts a truck filled with victims of COVID-19 in body bags. Black and Latino workers are overrepresented among the essential, the unemployed, and the dead. But to those in power that is how it should be since these are not important people to them. These are the vermin, the welfare queens who sit at home all day collecting unemployment so why should they matter? These “essential” workers do not contribute millions to campaigns for politicians or petition to eliminate public schools. The people who should be protected, whose lives matter, want to be served, and those who serve deserve to suffer for the good of their betters. They serve because they are stupid and lazy and cannot get good jobs to buy yachts and lake houses and host fundraisers. Black and Latino workers are overrepresented among the essential, the unemployed, and the dead. The commissioner in California rejoices at their imminent deaths, the virus is culling the herd of the weak, poor, and worthless. The mentally ill veteran was not strong enough, the junkie is pathetic The streets will be cleaner when they are not around. Those who do not give bribes to the politicians who maintain the system only take from it, drain it. Let them die, it will be less of a burden for the rest overall, let them die at their jobs, they can be replaced. No sick days, no healthcare, they do not deserve the benefits of the first world since most came from the third. Black and Latino workers are overrepresented among the essential, the unemployed, and the dead. This is the racial contract which the broken system supports, some people’s lives are worth protecting, others are not. And if those who are the better people are not in danger then why should they suffer to protect the lesser people? Hair needs cut, nails need painted, spring wardrobes updated to look their best, This is about Liberty, Freedom, Independence! Confront the police with guns, scream in their faces, swear at the nurses and block the hospitals until everything reopens. All Lives Matter, except Black Lives, Brown Lives their lives are a waste anyway Black and Latino workers are overrepresented among the essential, the unemployed, and the dead. This makes me sick, makes me angry, makes me rage Protect all life you scream, unless that life cleans your floors, cooks your food and stocks your shelves. Those lives are replaceable, they are not the regular folks in Brown county. Are we really like this? My neighbors and Facebook friends? Is this what we give into, threats of violence and guns in our faces and we back down and step back 6 paces. Or will we stand up and fight to protect those deemed essential right now? And keep the fight up in the fall, the winter, next year, the next five years. We must remember, essential workers saved us and deserve a living wage And hospital treatments that do not leave a family homeless. Black and Latino workers are overrepresented among the essential, the unemployed, and the dead. Remember this line, remember what was said by media and representatives when they get back to congress and say no to a living wage and treat healthcare like a privilege. Scream and remind them who suffered, who sacrificed, and what we learned. Sick days limit contagion, savings lessens a burden, fast treatment saves lives. Those who bailed out Wall street and forgot main street do not care about you or me, especially if we are not white. Rally for your neighbors, repeat the number of the dead, and never let them tell us some people deserve to suffer, to be poor. Congressmen did not suffer, billionaires did not suffer, we suffered. Black and Latino workers are overrepresented among the essential, the unemployed, and the dead. Let this be the epitaph for 2020. The chant for the changes we must make. The eulogy for the Great America. Black and Latino workers are overrepresented among the essential, the unemployed, and the dead. (Meet Mago Contributor) Francesca Tronetti.
(Art) ‘Nu Gua’ by Lydia Ruyle

Nu Gua creates the world as a serpent Goddess. The tree of life grows from her and seven suns. Two of her animal spirits are the crow for death in the sun and the toad for rebirth in the moon. She created humans from clay which she baked in the oven. Some were overdone accounting for the black race and some were underdone accounting for the white race. Nu Gua invented the mouth organ and the flute. On the bottom is the Tao symbol of Yin Feminine and Yang Masculine.The Pa Kua Eight Diagrams, also known as the I Ching, is a Chinese system for accessing the intuitive energies of chi. Source: Funerary silk painting, Han dynasty tomb of Lady Dai, 2nd century, Mawangdui. Changdu (Meet Mago Contributor) Lydia Ruyle.
(Book Excerpt 6) Mago Almanac Planner by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D.

Details for Mago Almanac (13 Month 28 Day Calendar) Planner are available here. Dragon Palace Mother (Yonggung Buin) The Dragon Palace Mother is a popular folk and Mu theme of Korean Magoist Cetaceanism. Here the dragon is the messenger of the cetacean divine, a personification of the waves caused by whales in the sea that nourish all terrestrial beings through the bodies of water. (To be continued) https://www.magoism.net/2013/07/meet-mago-contributor-helen-hwang/
(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/
(Photo Essay 4) We Remember by Kaalii Cargill

There are places in the world that recognize you and can call you by name, even if you’ve never been there. Our ancestors live in the land, and are the land. Their voices speak to us when we remember and we ask to hear. Robyn Philippa, “Animism of the British Isles”, sacredearthgrove.com In my pilgrimages to visit with the Grandmothers at ancient Goddess sites, there have been moments when the extraordinary is present in the ordinary, a reminder that it is not just the sites themselves but also the land I’m standing on, the air I’m breathing, the sounds I’m hearing, the sights that stay with me. Here are some of those moments in my journeys to sacred places, moments that call me to remember . . The following images are photos of rock formations that spoke to me of times past when an overhang or cave sheltered our ancestors. Most of these have contained evidence of use dating back millennia. Strambolovo, Bulgaria – cave shelters high above the Arda River valley Kavarna, Bulgaria – cave shelter overlooking the Black Sea Devetàshka Cave, near Lovech, Bulgaria, has been occupied for millennia. Hohle Fels Cave, Schelklingen, Germany. Dating from the late Paleolithic, artifacts found here are some of the earliest examples of prehistoric art and musical instruments ever discovered. Meet MAGO Contributor Kaalii Cargill
Sun and Earth Rise Over the Lake by Carolyn Lee Boyd

Our world is at a turning point between catastrophe and the opportunity for peace, equality, and environmental sustainability. Perhaps creating new stories that speak to the challenges of our time and more hopeful ways of being can help us make better choices for our future. Photography by Carolyn Lee Boyd You have asked how the people of the 21st century turned our planet from catastrophe to paradise, and I will tell you. It began with one woman. One morning she stumbled, thirsty and fragile, to the edge of what had once been a deep and wide lake full of fish, seaweed, ducks, loons, lampreys and turtles. As she scraped the sand to cup a few drops for her parched lips, she glanced at a faded reflection of the sun ascending over the small pool now deserted by all life except luminescent algae. She had witnessed a thousand other sunrises from this shore in decades past, and this morning’s sight brought to mind one such childhood dawn when her bare feet waded into the frigid water and a baby crayfish tickled her toes. She had taken so much for granted then — wild mint’s sweet taste, the geometric perfection of beached clamshells, the steady rhythm of the waves’ pulse. Her reminiscence brought her pleasure and she laughed. The path to the lake’s desolation began billions of years ago when Earth spun barren, desiccated, and desolate around the Sun’s inferno. In this lifeless void, the Sun and the Earth found each other in that liminal border between being and becoming and fell in love. Where others would have seen only sterility, they discovered in their tender bond the poetry of fire and air sparking birth and the magic of soil and water nurturing a diverse and abundant harmony of beings. Soon our planet teemed with colors, fragrances, tastes, sounds, textures, motion, and the jubilation of never-ending regeneration. The Sun and Earth bestowed on each species special talents such as healing, virtue, beauty, or strength. To humans they gave inner eyes to envision their planet as a paradise, opening like a lotus to the magnificence already present in it and a unique artistry to enhance its vibrancy with their own works of mind, body, and soul. Just as the love the Earth and Sun felt for each other powered the creation of life on our planet, so would the love of humans for the land and sky generate ever-new glorious futures. Earth and Sun’s trust in each other was reflected in their faith that humans would never forget our responsibility to all other life and so never envision into being only narcissistic pleasure or view ourselves as supreme over other creatures. By the 21st century, however, it was precisely because of this lack of reverence for our global home that many turned the miracle of imagination into mere selfish invention. They remade stunning landscapes into citadels of concrete, hollowed out the planet’s treasures, and banished millions of species of trees, flowers, animals, birds, and insects to oblivion. We traded millennia of awe for seconds of deathly intoxication. As their beloved dream world disintegrated, the Sun and Earth could not face one another and so they began to close their eyes to our planet. Sunlight’s soft glow dimmed, water never fell to the ground, fire destroyed what was left, and life all over the planet began to decline back into barrenness. But then the woman at the lake’s edge laughed. The sound echoed in the deep silence of the isolation of the Earth and Sun. They awoke and watched in wonder as the woman’s attention returned to the reflection of the sunrise on the lake and the power within her it evoked. Her love of the lake, begun in the the openness of childhood and growing within her all her life, sparked her fervor to recover the planet as it had been and more, just as the Sun had fired the original Creation. It was nourished and embraced by all the kindness and love from other living beings she had experienced from birth, just as the Earth’s impulse to generation had nurtured our planet’s burgeoning life. Now, to her, the sunrise’s reflection was not just light rays bouncing off the water’s surface, but a bridge between the world as it had become and the future paradise that was taking shape in her mind and soul. Photography by Carolyn Lee Boyd She became the spirit of energy and genius, her eyes raised to the hopeful enlightenment of the sun. She embraced wholeness and connectedness, her eyes lowered to the grace of the Earth. She imagined our planet as it might have been had she and all other humans always understood that love for the land and sky is at the heart of our miraculous gift of imagining a future as wondrous as she had believed the world to be as a child. She determined that, together, humans could birth this new world into physical being and, now knew that we could, we must. She rose on trembling legs and began to express the truth of our special artistry to all humans who would listen, wandering from village to village, eventually reaching every continent. Together we determined that our planet would not die. From our gathered mind’s eyes arose an aspiration for our planet so exquisite that to desecrate it rather than bringing it into being was unthinkable. We were finally inching towards fulfilling our destiny and we began to partner with the Sun and Earth to regenerate life in all its forms. Now, generations later, humans come again to the shores of the thriving lake, tasting the tiny, flavorful wild strawberries and wiggling their fingers playfully amongst the minnows. We have discovered our secret. Still, we have learned that our mission is no more or less than any other species, it is simply different, and all are as necessary to our planet’s paradise as we are. Billions of years ago the Sun and the …
(Poem & Art) Medial Woman by Arlene Bailey

Art, Between the Worlds” by Arlene Bailey ©2018 We are now in the time of the Medial Woman. She comes in my dreams beckoning me come walk between the worlds. Beckoning me keep my promise made before coming to this world. To live strongly. To live wildly. To live deeply. She lives in the light. She lives in the dark. An Edgewalker hovering in the liminal places of our psyche, she both sees and hears what is between the worlds. No longer constrained by society’s expectations of what a woman is, the Medial Woman is free to move as she is called. Feral and Wild and standing always in her sovereign knowing of Divine Female Power, the Medial Woman Calls. Are you Listening? _____________________________________ Medial Woman by Arlene Bailey, ©2020 https://www.magoism.net/2020/04/meet-mago-contributor-arlene-bailey/

(Special Post 3) Why Goddess Feminism, Activism, or Spirituality? A Collective Writing

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

The contribution of my writing to Return to Mago E-Magazine has evolved since it began four years ago, into a deeply mutually enhancing relationship. The time and effort taken to write carefully and in alignment with my heartfelt passions and insights, and then to be able to publish to a receptive audience, has always been rewarding – for me personally and apparently for many who received it.
(Special post) The Goddess Inanna: Her Allies and Opponents by Hearth Moon Rising

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

(Poetry & Photo Essay) Pongal by Susan Hawthorne

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

Beltaine/High Spring: the traditional dates are Southern Hemisphere – October 31st or 1st November Northern Hemisphere – April 30th (May Eve) or 1st May The actual astronomical date varies, and it is the meridian point or cross-quarter day between Spring Equinox and Summer Solstice, thus actually a little later in early November for S.H., and early May for N.H., respectively. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pODpbkzfrIU The purpose of the 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, music, and voice wherever you please. I have made short spaces in the video where it may be paused. The script for this Beltaine ceremony is offered in Chapter 8 of my book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony, with all acknowledgements and references there. 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 name the direction, which I only do at the beginning. The images used are a collage of footage and photos from the 2024 Beltaine ceremony at my place in Wakka Wakka country, South East Queensland Australia, and from previous Beltaine ceremonies that I facilitated over the decades in MoonCourt, Goddess ceremonial space, in Gundungurra and Darug country, Blue Mountains Australia. To enhance participation in the ceremony, you may like to have the following: the element of Water flavoured with rose water. the element of Earth in a large dinner plate and card paper large enough for handprints, along with a bowl of water for washing hands after. a small bouquet of scented flowers and/or herbs for the element of Air. a firepot for the element of Fire. This may be a clay pot of sand into which a small amount of methylated spirits will be poured and lit: it produces a soft flame that will not set off fire alarms, though care should still be taken. a larger firepot or two – either near the altar or located where suitable, for either leaping the flames, or simply passing your hand over flames. This firepot may be a larger version of the one for the element of Fire. coloured ribbons, ideally attached to a pole/tree, but it is possible to manage this rite in another creative manner. a pink ring cake, topped with rose water and honey and petals, sliced ready for serving, but whole. sweet pink wine/juice and glasses for serving. Dance Instructions: Celebrant as #1, person next on right as #2. All 1’s face right, all 2’s face left. All 1’s go in & under first, all 2’s go out & over first. The chant for the dance around the tree (a “Novapole” in the Southern Hemipshere, a “Maypole” in the Northern Hemisphere): “We are the Dance of the Earth, Moon and Sun We are the Life that’s in everyone We are the Life that loves to live We are the Love that lives to love.” (Note: This is a slight variation of the chant written and taught to me by thea Gaia. Music credits: A few clips from Coral Sea Dreaming by Tania Rose: https://www.taniarose.net A clip from Benediction Moon by Pia from her album by that name, New World Music, 1998. A clip from “Shedville 28th Nov 05” by Nick Alias, who has generously shared his music, and given permission for me to use it. Image credits: Ishtar (Middle East, 1000 BCE), Hallie Iglehart Austen, The Heart of the Goddess, p.131. Aphrodite (Europe, 300 BCE), Hallie Iglehart Austen, The Heart of the Goddess, p.133. Xochiquetzal (Mayan, 8th century CE), Hallie Iglehart Austen, The Heart of the Goddess, p.135. Inanna/Ishtar (Mesopotamia 400 B.C.E.), Adele Getty, Goddess: Mother of Living Nature, p.39. Birth of the Goddess, Erich Neumann, The Great Mother, plate 155. Milky Way photo: Akira Fujii, David Malin images. Beau Ravn’s “Goddess” and “God” artworks (2000). Sri Yantra (1500 CE.), A.T. Mann and Jane Lyle, Sacred Sexuality, p.75.
(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: …
(Essay) Walking with Bb by Sara Wright

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

This article is an edited excerpt from Chapter 7 of the author’s book PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion. I always wore a special headpiece for the Seasonal ceremonies when I facilitated them over the years, and I feel that any participant may do so, not just the main celebrant. My ceremonial headpiece with its changing and continuous Seasonal decoration took on increasing significance over the years; it became a personal central representation of the year-long ceremonial art process of creating, destroying and re-creating. For the research period of my doctoral studies particularly, when I was documenting the process, I realised that this headpiece came to represent for me the essence of “She” – as Changing One, yet ever as Presence – as I was coming to know Her. In my journal for the Mabon/Autumn Equinox process notes one year I wrote: As I pace the circle with the Mabon headpiece in the centre, I see “Her” as She has been through the Seasons … the black and gold of Samhain, the deep red, white and evergreen of Winter, the white and blue of Imbolc, the flowers of Eostar, the rainbow ribbons of Beltane, the roses of Summer, the seed pods and wheat of Lammas, and now the Autumn leaves. I see in my mind’s eye, and feel, Her changes. I am learning … The Mother knowledge grows within me. The headpiece, the wreath, the altar, the house decorations, all participate in the ceremony: they are part of the learning, the method, the relationship – similar to how one might bring flowers and gifts of significance to a loved one at special moments. Then further, the removal and re-creation of the decorations are part of the learning – an active witness to transformation through time.
Imbolc: Through Goddess Eyes by Carolyn Lee Boyd

Photo by Carolyn Lee Boyd In times past, Creation’s Winter cupped me in her icy hand of sanctuary Gathered in, I sucked dormant life, and slumbered Till Earth’s rebirthing groans awakened my new body Now, older and full of life’s weeping and wondering awe At all that has happened in my decades on Earth I must shake myself into consciousness My seed’s opaque, blinding hull disintegrates and Bodyless, at last I can see through Goddess eyes I ache as my blood paints each flower petal I spin the whirlwind that cannot stop creating abundance I push the seasons through the year that mortals believe revolve of their own accord. Through Goddess eyes I can see me, I inhabit Winter’s hand as my own. I make the cold to slow creation of outside of me To gather the seed into fertile stillness within. That burgeons in my own time. https://www.magoism.net/2016/08/meet-mago-contributor-carolyn-lee-boyd/

(Bell Essay 6) The Magoist Whale Bell: Unraveling the Cetacean Code of Korean Temple Bells by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D.

[Author’s Note: The part 6 and ensuing sequels are a new development from the original essay sequels on Korean Temple Bells and Magoism that first published January 11, 2013 in this current magazine. See (Bell Essay 1) Ancient Korean Bells and Magoism by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang.] Southern right whale from Wikimedia Commons Introduction The Korean temple bell is no mere Buddhist device. Calling it a Sillan Esoteric Buddhist invention in origin only adds to its mystification. Commissioned by Sillan rulers who represented traditional Magoist shaman rulers, Sillan temple bells administer sonic balance within and without all beings once and for all. In short, the Sillan temple bell reenacts the Magost Cosmogony HERE and NOW.[1] Engendering resonance to the self-creative power of cosmic music, Yulryeo (Rhythms and Tones), the Korean temple bell summons the paradisiacal reality of the Creatrix, Mago. Cast in the form of a female body, the bell structurally embodies the gynocentric principle of the Creatrix, the Mago Way. I have discussed earlier such features as nine nipples and apsaras. Here the dragon figure (Yongnyu) and the sound tube (Yongtong or Eumtong) in its head are focused. Multi-functional and polysemic, the dragon is there not only to be the loop for hanging but also to envelop the sound tube, seen below. Among others, the sound tube stands out as a distinctive feature of Korean temple bells that distinguishes them from their Chinese and Japanese counterparts. What is the sound tube of the Korean temple bell? Why do Korean temple bells have a sound tube? Answers to these questions concern a yet-to-be-unraveled undergirding theme of the Korean temple bell, the whale. Although its origin is debated, the sound tube signals Sillan cetacean veneration. In the mytho-history of Magoism, Silla (57 BCE-935 CE) stands as a prominent ancient Korean state, which succeeded and flowered ancient Magoist cetaceanism. Sillan cetacenism defines Silla as a new government that succeeded Old Magoist confederacies. In this context, we can assess a whale-shaped wooden mallet, which is no mere decorative addition to the bell. Nonetheless, the whale-shaped mallet is only a tip of the cetacean meaning of the bell. A whale (고래 Gorae in Korean) is the very model that the Korean temple bell (the bell hereafter) takes after, especially for its vocalizations. The bell mimics the music of whales. While the latter is heard in water, the former is heard in land. Its cetacean names corroborate such an assessment. The bell is called Janggyeong (長鯨 Eternal Whale), Gyeongjong (鯨鐘 Whale Bell), Hwagyeong (華鯨 Splendid Whale), or Geogyeong (巨鯨 Gigantic Whale). As such, the sound of the bell is alternatively called “the sound of whale (鯨音gyeongeum).” Ancient Koreans perceived whales, pre-human in origin and once a land animal, as the messenger of the Creatrix, Mago. In folk traditions, the phrase, “riding the back of a whale,” was widely popularized among East Asians throughout history, which means that one returns to Mago, by riding the back of a whale upon death. That ancient Koreans were cetacean venerators remains esoteric. The cetacean code of Korean temple bells holds the key to unraveling what has gone suppressed in patriarchy, the Magoist Cosmogony. By the Magoist Cosmogony, I mean a systematic origin story of our universe, as is recounted in the Budoji (Epic of the Emblem City). I have summarized the Budoji’s cosmogonic chapters in my aforementioned book, The Mago Way, as follows: The Magoist Cosmogony highlights the sonic movement of cosmic elements as the Creatrix. In the beginning, there was light. The movement/vibration of light (cosmic music) in the universe caused creation to take place over eons. Stars were born in the previous cosmic era. In due time, Mago was born together with the Earth (the Stronghold of Mago) with her moons. Her (self-)emergence marks the beginning of earthly history. Mago listened to and acted in tune with the cyclic movement of the cosmic music. In further due time, S/HE bore two daughters, Gunghui (Goddess Gung) and Sohui (Goddess So) parthenogenetically. This Primordial Triad laid the foundation for the earthly environment for all species. Mago, assisted by HER two daughters, orchestrated the terrestrial plan to bring acoustic balance in harmony with the cosmic music/sound/vibration. S/HE delegated HER descendants to cultivate and manage the sonic equilibrium of the Earth [Italics added].[2] Precisely, the Sillan temple bell encodes the message that whales are the paragon of Magoists whose mandate is “to cultivate and manage the sonic equilibrium of the Earth.” Restoring Magoist cetaceanism is metamorphic. Antithetical to the very establishment of patriarchy, ancient Magoist Korean cetacean practice unfolds the Other World that has been ever HERE. This essay, assessing the sound tube as a Magoist code of Sillan cetaceanism, aims to delineate how the Magoist cetacean meaning came to be encoded in the sound tube of the bell by the Sillan rulers of the 7th and 8th centuries. In decoding the cetacean message, we are led to the myth of Manpasikjeok (萬波息笛 the pacifying flute that defeats all, hereafter the pacifying flute), a Sillan royal treasure that is hermeneutically construed as made of the tusk of a narwhal. A group of Korean scholars maintain that the sound tube was designed to represent the pacifying flute. The task of this essay is to go further and to re-read the myth of Manpasikjeok—a story of King Sinmun the Great (r. 681-692) of Silla (57 BCE-935 CE) who was told by a sea dragon to create a flute out of a mysterious bamboo tree growing in a mysterious mountain in the East Sea, alternatively known as the Sea of Whales—from the Magoist perspective. This story has been written and misinterpreted as an enigmatic Buddhist story. I hold that “Ruler (King or Queen) the Great (大王 Daewang),” unlike other kings of the ancient world, does not refer to a patriarchal monarch. It is a Magoist cetacean term that is related with “Ruler Whale the Great (Daewang Gorae),” referring to the blue whale for its gigantic size or whales collectively. By adopting the cetacean title …
(Essay) A Cross-Cultural Feminist Alchemy: Studying Mago, Pan-East Asian Great Goddess, Using Mary Daly’s Radical Feminism as Springboard by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

Mago is the Great Goddess of East Asia and in particular Korea. Reconstructing Magoism, the cultural and historical context of East Asia that venerated Mago as the supreme divine, is both the means and the end. Magoism demonstrates the derivative nature of East Asian religions such as Daoism, Buddhism, and Confucianism while redefining East Asian Shamanism to be the religious expression of Magoism. I encountered the topic of Mago during my doctoral studies. The topic of Mago fell out of nowhere at the time I was preparing for qualifying examinations. I had never heard the name, Mago. Only when I was able to collect a large amount of primary sources from Korea, China, and Japan, was I awakened to the cultural memory of Mago. I grew up craving the stories of Halmi (Grandmother/Great Mother), a common referral to Mago among Koreans. I had a childhood experience of being in the fairy land unfolded by my grandmother’s old stories. While “Mago” was unfamiliar to most Koreans, she was taken for granted in her many other names such as Samsin (the Triad Deity) and Nogo (Old Goddess) and place-names such as Nogo-san (Old Goddess Mountain) and Nogo-dang (Old Goddess Shrine). A Korean scholar, on a casual occasion, gave me a book entitled the Budoji (Epic of the Emblem City). He may have intuitively foreseen that I would make use of it sooner or later. The Budoji is an apocryphal text that describes the genesis event of Mago and her paradise called Mago-seong (Castle/Stonewalls of Mago) and an ensuing deployment of pre-patriarchal Korean history, thitherto unheard of. Upon my first reading of the Budoji, I was more confused than enlightened, but I felt drawn into and embraced by its mythic, historical and poetic language. I was already far along the path before I realized I was truly immersed within it! An ark of treasure emitting a pristine aura was laid before me, though I was too bedazzled to see within. Mago was there, shrouded in her old garments, seemingly obsolete, but a full and complete presence. I was tongue-tied a while. But I did inquire about Mago among Koreans. I learned that Mago was recognized by contemporary Koreans, marking the modern revival of Magoism. A movie entitled “Mago” was being made. A newly formed feminist musical band named itself “Mago.” A tea house named the “Mago Cafe” further enforced the reality that there was a pride and understanding of her existence. Foremost, I was surprised by the fact that a large number of Mago stories were available both online and written documents. Many stories that depict Mago as the nature-shaper of local landscapes such as mountains, rocks (including dolmens and megaliths), seas, villages, streams, stone-walls, and caves, were still told by the elders in small villages of Korea. I also found historical materials that mention Mago not only from Korea but also China and Japan. I brought up the subject of Mago to my advisors in time to propose a topic for my dissertation. This topic was barely known to anyone in academia. I was able to put together a bibliography with a considerable amount of source materials for my dissertation proposal. Secondary sources were, albeit small in number, also gathered. That marked the beginning of my study of Mago. I had another dissertation topic at that time. In fact, my thitherto prospective topic was Mary Daly’s feminist religious thought. Daly’s feminist thought had been the guiding light ever since I first read the Beyond God the Father in early 1990s. I encountered Mary Daly’s post-Christian thought when I was on the brink of Christianity. I had been a member of Maryknoll Sisters, an organization that opened up to me the possibility of cross-cultural living. Though I dedicated myself to implementing Christian ideals, all I could see was the necrophilic “foreground;” a world dictated by patriarchal institutions and ideologies. Feminist theology was self-transcending to me. I was unafraid of going beyond the boundary of Christianity and its God. Female subjectivity of which I was now conscious no longer held male subjectivity “neutral” or “objective.” My take of female subjectivity, however, needed to peel off another layer of ethnocentrism, Sino-centrism in East Asain studies and Euro-centrism in feminist studies. I began to re-orient myself to the new reality, “the Biophilic Background,” to borrow Daly’s term, by affirming myself, a Korean feminist, and all Others rendered as “inferior” by the patriarchal and/or Euro-centric self. I was a self-motivated feminist learner. I had spent four years alone in reading or rather soaking in Daly’s books after withdrawing from Christianity. I translated Daly’s first two books as well as one Eco-feminist book, Reweaving the World, edited by Diamond and Orenstein into Korean during that time. It was a time of self-birth as a woman-identified woman. I de-educated myself from patriarchal knowledge and ethics and spent time to reestablish my relationship with my mother. The process of de-education took place inwardly while I was reading feminist books, keeping my daily journals, and practicing meditations including physical activities such as walking and stretching. These were the things that I had already been doing. What was new to this period was that I chose things that I wanted to do especially with my body and senses. I practiced gukseon-do (a Korean traditional mind and body exercise, equivalent to yoga) on a regular basis and took art lessons including fine art and calligraphic painting. I took time in nature visiting mountains, parks, and Buddhist temples. I reflected upon my mindset to see if I was still feeding the conceptual habit of self-defeat imposed upon women by patriarchal religions and cultures. For example, I probed to see if I was still under the influence of the so-called “feminine virtues” of dependency, obeisance, and silence. For quite some years, I was caught in raw emotions of anger and grief. Nonetheless, I knew, even then, that those emotions were there to help me build myself as a life-affirming existence. Any practice that was necrophilic was something that I disassociated myself from and avoided. …
(Goma Article Excerpt 3) Goma, the Shaman Ruler of Old Magoist East Asia/Korea and Her Mythology by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

[Author’s Note: This essay was first published in Goddesses in Myth, History and Culture, published in 2018 by Mago Books.] The Goma Words The Bear Goddess In the coventional interpretation of the Korean foundation myth, “Ungnyeo (熊女)” is the name given to the bear (Gom) who received a female body upon enduring the trial of the cave initiation, married Hanung, and gave birth to a son who later became the founder of the ancient Korean state, Joseon (2333 BCE – 232 BCE). As such, “Ungnyeo” and “Gom” are unequivocally identified as the same figure. Nonetheless, the notability of “Ungnyeo” remains secular to most modern Koreans. That Gom is also involved with the bear constellation, the Northern Dipper in particular, remains esoteric at best. The bear mytheme of the Goma myth offers an insight to the etymology of both words, “Mago” and “Goma.” Given the mythological evidence that associates both Goma and Mago with the bear constellation, we may establish that the syllable “Go (姑 Ancient Goddess)” in “Mago” and “Goma” is derived from “Gom,” which means the bear in Korean. Modified by “Ma,” a universal sound for “mother,” both “Goma” and “Mago” refer to the Bear Mother. This assessment merits, among others, an explanation for the bear mytheme in the Goma myth in which Goma is depicted as the head of the royal bear clan. The bear is one of the most prominent symbols of Goma and Mago together with the nine and the tree. Goma, as the bear Goddess, holds together the animal bear, the bear worshipping people, and the circumpolar constellation of the Bears (Ursa Major and Ursa Minor) in the Northern Hemisphere. Indicating the bear totem and the bear constellation, the bear symbol runs through her myths and linguistics. In the story, the cave initiation that Goma proposed intimates the ancient bear worshippers associated with the bear’s cyclic behaviors including hibernation for the long winter months in a cave. The bear symbol is important in that it connects Goma (the queen of the bear clan), Mago (the Goddess of the bear constellation), and their devotees, “the royal bear clan,” broadly recognized across cultures. It is not surprising to note that Goma and Mago appear conflated in cultural and devotional practices. Doumu (斗母 Mother of the Northern Dipper) is a prominent example of the amalgamated divine, Magoma. Doumu is well noted for her conflating manifestations among kindred Goddesses in Daoism. Marnix Wells states that Doumu is alternatively identified as Taiyi Yuanjun (太一元君 Goddess of the Great One) and Jiuhuang Daji (九皇大帝 the Great Emperor of Nine Emperors). Doumu is considered as “Mother of Dipper” known as Doumu Yuanjun (斗母元君 “Goddess of the Chariot”) and conflated with Taiyi Yuanjun (太一元君 “Goddess of the Great One”), who is one of the Three Pure Ones. She is considered the mother of the seven stars of the Dipper and two not visible ones, the Jiuhuang Daji (九皇大帝 “Nine Great Divine Kings”).[1] Here Taiyi Yuanjun corresponds to Mago (or the Mago Triad) and Jiuhuwang Daji to Goma (or the Nine Mago Creatrix). As such, Doumu is also related to the number nine symbol, which connects Mago and Goma, a topic to be explained below. Suffice it to say that Doumu, representing Magoma, is a female personification of the inter-cosmic reality unfolded through the circumpolar constellation of the Bears in the Northern Hemisphere in sync with the eco-biotic behavior of bears, as such venerated by their devotees. Goma and the Korean Identity Goma’s alternative names include “Ungnyeo (Female Sovereign),” “Hanung (Han Sovereign),” “Cheonung (Heavenly Soverein),” “Daeung (Great Sovereign),” “Seonhwang (Immortal Emperess),” and “Daein (Great Person)” as well as “Ungssi-ja (Decendant of the Goma Clan), “Ungssi-wang” (Ruler of the Goma Clan), and “Ungssi-gun” (Head of the Goma Clan). The Goma words also include such modifiers as “Ung,” “Gom (Gam, Geum, Geom, Kami)” and “Baedal (Barkdal, Baekdal), “Dan.” Given that her worship is old in origin and non-ethnocentric in nature, the Goma epithets are not limited to the above. It is conjectured that she was revered by other names including the aforementioned Goddesses across cultures. In fact, the Magoist hermeneutic of the Goma myth enables us to reassess variant Halmi (Great Mother/Grandmother/Crone) stories in Korea that have the Magoma mytheme. Among them are Gaeyang Halmi, Seogu Halmi, Angadak Halmi, Dangsan Halmi, to name a few. In any case, the epithet “Goma” is by no means a modern invention. Intriguingly, they are found in place-names, state-names and clan-names, to be discussed shortly. The link between “Ung” and “Gom” is not something unfamiliar to most Koreans. Researchers note that “Goma-seong (Goma Stronghold)” better known “Ungjin-seong” was the capital of ancient Baekje Korea from 475 to 538 CE.[2] However, “Gom” as an alternative epithet of “Goma” remains unfamiliar to many modern Koreans. Furthermore, little known is that “Ungnyeo” is derived from “Goma,” the queen of the bear clan. Korean linguists infer that “Ungsim (熊心)” is an Idu word and should be read “Goma.”[3] Accoding to them, the second character “Sim (心)” meaning “Maeum (마음)” in “Ungsim” is an indicator of its phonetic sound, “Ma.” Following the first character “Go” in “Gom (곰), “Ungsim” should be read as “Goma.” A compound of “Ung (熊)” and “Nyeo (Woman),” “Ungnyeo” is a euphemism for “Ungsim (熊心).” Idu (吏讀 Official’s Script) is an ancient Korean writing system that uses logographic characters for the Korean spoken language. Its use is noted during the early three states (Silla, Goguryeo, Baekje) to Joseon (1392-1919) periods. That Goma is the Idu word for Ungsim offers no small insight. It holds key to unlock a broad range of the Goma words found trans-nationally in East Asia and elsewhere. The Idu word “Ungsim” for “Goma” holds the key to unlock the Goma words that permeate ancient Korean history, language, and culture. Ungsim-yeon (熊心淵 Goma Lake) and Ungsim-san (熊心山Goma Mountain) and Ungsim-guk (熊心國 Goma State) are the most prominent examples. These place-names show how Goma mythology has shaped the landscape of ancient Korean mytho-histories. Ungsim-yeon (Goma Lake) is associated with Yuhwa (Willow Tree …