March 11, 2015October 2, 2019 RTM EditorsLeave a comment

(Art poem) Ing’s Ride by Ingrid Andrew

I am Ingrid. I am Ing’s ride. I ride the chariots of Spring. I scatter petals in my wake; and gather birds, and throw them on the wing. I am Read More …

March 9, 2015November 15, 2019 RTM Editor3 Comments

(Essay) Notes on Leaving Christianity by Glenys Livingstone (1989)

This is the first in a three part series of old articles and papers by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D. that were written in the 1980’s and 1990’s, two of which were Read More …

January 9, 2015October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Essay 3) Baba Part III: The Smile (A tale of Vasilisa) by Jillian Parker

Vasilisa reached for a long, flat black lacquer box from its hiding place atop a roughly-hewn shelf. She slid open the box and let her hand rest on its contents Read More …

December 22, 2014October 2, 2019 Mago Work Admin1 Comment

(Essay 1) Magos, Muses, and Matrikas: The Magoist Cosmogony and Gynocentric Unity by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D.

[Author’s note: This paper is published in the journal, the Gukhak yeonguronchong 국학연구론총 (Issue 14, December 2014). Here it will appear in five sequels including the response by Dr. Glenys Livingstone.] Magos, Read More …

December 12, 2014October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Art) Volunteer Lifesavers (with Annette Kellermann) by Eileen Haley

Women lifesavers (including one in a burqini) dance on a beach. Mermaids populate the ocean behind the figures.

December 1, 2014October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Essay 2) Baba Part II: The Drowned Girls (A tale of Vasilisa) by Jillian Parker

With a sudden clatter, Marya, Varya, Darya, Varya, and Zarya began to shift back and forth on the table, as if attempting to dance, and they squeaked all at once, “You’d Read More …

November 21, 2014October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Prose poem) My Three Grandmothers by Mary Saracino

1. Immacolata The Boss we called her, though in life her authority barely reached beyond the aroma-stained walls of her over-worked kitchen. She came to America from Puglia in 1920, Read More …

November 14, 2014October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Art) Protectress by Jassy Watson

This painting was born entirely intuitively. She emerged from the timber of her own accord and the patterns and shapes made with initial markings were followed. I approached the work Read More …

November 12, 2014October 2, 2019 Mago Work Admin1 Comment

(Book review) Poemas Ante el Catafalco: Grief and Renewal by Donna J. Snyder, reviewed by Mary Saracino

Poemas Ante el Catafalco: Grief and Renewal (Chimbarazu Press 2014) Donna J. Snyder It is a poet’s challenge to find language for emotions that elude language. In Poemas Ante el Read More …

October 22, 2014October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Poem) Lakshmi by Tim Buck

Every seven generations, one child is chosen from the pool of seed floating on the surface of Secret Lotus Lake. She comes to keep the bond intact and ever blooming Read More …

October 15, 2014October 2, 2019 Mago Work Admin3 Comments

(Poem) Defiance by Mary Saracino

I was bred to appease, close the gaping mouth of desire, a child speaking in the foreign tongue of docility relying on conforming consonants, denying voracious vowels their due, jailing Read More …

October 13, 2014October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Essay 1) Baba part I: A Tale of Vasilisa the Wise by Jillian Parker

Evening came to the izba. The loom ceased its clatter. Vasilisa filled a dark iron kettle from a bucket of spring water, and set it on the shelf of the Read More …

September 26, 2014October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Art poem) The Perfect Birthday by Kushal Poddar

The little rant sits by the window. The little rant ages by the window. Her birthday, just another day. But at least she has this window. Read Meet Mago Contributor Read More …

(Prose) A Chapter From My Life by Janie Rezner

A Chapter From My Life . . . for my upcoming book, A Wakeup Call from Mother God I should write a letter to Polly Shakas, thanking her for helping me get out of my marriage. I could also thank Bill Moeller. They were the principals in a most difficult and painful period of my life, and certainly in my children’s lives. My good friend Polly said, “why don’t you move out, and perhaps Janie will agree to go into counseling with you. I know of a very good psychiatrist in Iowa City who might be able to help you.” Said Polly to my husband when he came to her house to rant and rave about me. By this time, and it was the first time I had ever confided in anyone, I had told her a bit about my very troubled marriage. And, so it was that husband and I traveled to Iowa City on a gray day in winter to see Bill Moeller, head of the psychiatric outpatient clinic at Iowa City University Hospitals. Husband was ushered into Bill’s office first, and for an hour I sat alone in that dimly lit waiting room. Then it was my turn to go in. When I sat down in the chair, Bill said, “So you want a divorce.” I had not dared to even think the words in this horrific marriage, where I feared my husband’s volatile behavior, but having heard them, I knew indeed I did want a divorce. (I might add, I did not know anyone personally, who had been divorced.) I began crying. And, Bill said, “Now your husband has sat in that chair for an hour, crying. Are you going to do the same thing?” Well, I tell you that straightened me up, right away! No more tears for me! And so we talked. Actually, he did most of the talking, telling me things about husband’s and my relationship. He had just spent an hour with husband, and obviously could tell a great deal about what was going on, just by observing his behavior. He said so many things to me—things I remembered for years, but remember them no longer. He told me things about my life with husband that I couldn’t have begun to tell him, for I didn’t have the words then. I didn’t see patterns. I didn’t recognize behaviors. “Abusive husband” wasn’t a common word in the fifties, nor was sexual abuse or manipulation. And, the word “relationship” was unheard of. Bill did say something I still remember. He said, “You have grown in this marriage; your husband has not. We spent three hours talking in his office—and those hours flew by as the walls of my prison began to crack. At last, someone understood . . .without my having to describe it to them. Perhaps there was a way out. My hope sprang forth. In our next trip to Iowa City, going in separate cars this time at my insistence, husband and I met with together with Bill. Bill spoke for a few minutes, talking about the possibility of our attending group counseling, then looked straight at me and said, “But you probably don’t want to do that, do you? Then Bill asked husband, “Do you love Janie,” Husband said “yes.” Then he asked me, “Do you love husband?” I knew this was my moment to speak, and I said, “No.” I dared to do it because earlier Bill had described this joint visit as a “time to put your cards on the table.” . . . and I recognized immediately that he was telling me to speak the truth, and I trusted that he was going to help me through it. ~~~ After my “no” my husband jumped out of his chair, picked it up and threw it at me, hitting me in the leg, and ran out of the office, down the hall and out of the hospital. And I, standing there shaking in shock and fear and relief, realized that “I had been living in a prison, and didn’t know it.” ~~~ And, certainly no thought of what a third class citizen I was in this man’s world had even faintly touched my awareness. That my children’s and my abuse and much worse, was and is being experienced by millions and of women and children all over the world, subjugated SLAVES of the patriarchy, had not entered my consciousness back in 1966 in Davenport, Iowa. This story demonstrates the powerful brainwashing I was under—living in fear and denying it to myself, for how else could I live there every day and every night. And, I was afraid to leave for fear he would follow me.. It also shows this intuitive psychiatrist’s amazing intervention—he brought our marriage of twelve years to a head in two visits—hardly knowing either of us—and was very clear about where it needed to go. This is not typical therapeutic behavior. May every abused woman find such help. May every abused woman realize she has sisters who are suffering as she is suffering, as her mother and grandmother and great grandmother and great aunts suffered. May she realize that she lives in a world run by men that allows it’s mothers and children to be abused—to be tortured—to starve to death; a world run by men who not only allow it, but enjoy torturing and abusing and killing. May she know that this has gone on since the patriarchal archetype has covered and controlled the earth. And may she know it is dead wrong. Oquawka 2010 Meet Mago Contributor Janie Rezner
Black Bird Ballet by Sara Wright

A starling In September I was patient. My beloved birds were having a good year seeking food in natural places like my field I reminded myself over and over as they remained absent from my feeders until I fell and was hospitalized for weeks. After November’s first snow storm the grouse arrived and I had high hopes that she would stay. I occasionally flushed her in thickets but did not see grouse’s plump brown body feasting on the remainder of the berries from the crabapple or see her hieroglyphs in the snow. The turkeys remained absent. When I walked through my young pine forest where chickadees chirp even on windy days, the musical whirring wings of mourning doves tore into the grief I felt and didn’t want to own. Sometimes I called out “I love you” to those birds who chose to converse with me because I know they know. In late November when the snow piled up bowing trees to the ground it also brought in the first winter cold; this time the brook almost froze solid. A few birds did visit the feeder for a day or so: titmice, chickadees, one female cardinal, a few juncos, goldfinches, but the absence of abundance was overwhelming. Two days later nothing. On the first of December someone emailed me a video of the most beautiful Italian Starling Murmuration set to one of Puccini’s arias. Entranced, enchanted, I replayed that video repeatedly that morning and kept doing it every morning for about two weeks while putting out fresh seed for birds that didn’t come. The worst flood of the year tore up the banks of the brook uprooting trees dropping 6 inches of rain in 5 plus hours and then a couple more inches during the third week in December. Once more my cellar flooded. No birds at all. I watched the sky dancers every dawning, wondering if this was the wave of the future coming to pass – gazing into a computer screen to see birds instead of seeing them in the flesh. Some days the vision of clouds of starlings orchestrating such an exquisitely choreographed aerial ballet in the Sardinian sky still brought me to tears. I decided to research starlings and discovered they are in steep decline, yet still being targeted by pesticides “that kill starlings in one to three days but are less lethal to other birds and pets” (Starlicide). Starlings interfere with agribusiness, so humans murder them without mercy. Even conservation groups are involved in bird killings but that’s another story. Starlings I also did some research on Maine birds. After checking bird groups, I learned that our regular winter birds are absent throughout the state. It’s not just me. It’s not just local, and it’s not that I don’t know that most birds are in decline with a number facing imminent extinction on a global level. This change has surely been coming but as a friend of mine ruefully remarked, “did it have to happen so fast”? Well of course it didn’t. It has been happening all along. We ignored the signs. We need more research, better technology the scientists tell us. “We don’t know why these birds are disappearing.” This from Cornell Ornithology Bird Capital of the Bird World. We don’t? Besides cats, pesticides, herbicides, loss of whole forests from logging, human development, poor air, water, and soil quality and continued hunting of migrating flocks and game birds, climate change, we really do know some of the reasons we have lost more than three billion birds. But no one speaks to soul loss, bodies bowed over in grief. My bones ache. Strangely, towards the end of December I received two more equally moving videos of starling murmurations, one just two days before the end of the month. After the third one arrived, I had to ask myself why. Three videos in one month with black birds dancing through the sky. I do not believe in coincidences. In myth and story birds are Messengers from the Beyond and they certainly have brought me to my knees again and again throughout my life with messages I did or/didn’t want to hear. In mythology many winter goddesses that control the weather (personifications of Nature made manifest) are depicted as having black birds as their familiars. Ravens or crows. Much to my astonishment I also read in FAR about one myth where the winter goddess was accompanied by a starling! Finally, illumination struck. These Black Birds were speaking to me in the language of loss. Yet the starling sky dances continued to sooth an aching heart, helping me to mediate intensifying grief. Such abundance. I think the sky dancers were also reminding me that what’s important now is to be present for Nature’s miracles wherever I can find them. On January 1st I scattered a little seed for the three doves and what I hoped would be more than a few chickadees before dawn… When the woodpecker chirped, I not only thought of holes but sensed that the whole tapestry of Life as we know it is unraveling. But there was more… The most painful memories of my broken relationship with my mother had been haunting me for the last month. And my mother once fed crows as her mother, my grandmother, did before her. To re-live the worst primal grief of all, to acknowledge that I would have given anything to have had a loving relationship with my mother who I loved so deeply, to seek peace with the long dead woman who birthed me keeps me anchored to a present that is overshadowed by our past. On January 2nd I had the first dream of the year. In it I see a manilla envelope and hear the words “these records must be read thoroughly”. I wondered if the previous month of painful mother memories might have been about beginning to go through that manilla envelope. Those records are written into my body, and they surface …
(Poem) A Time Before the Wars Began by Mary Saracino

Photo by Mary Saracino If you close your eyes can you remember a time before the wars began when love prevailed and compassion reigned, when justice ruled beside mercy? There was no need for guns or bombs, swords or cannons. No need for lines drawn in the sand for edicts or proclamations of might. Breathe deeply and you might recall a time when saner hearts prevailed when hatred failed to separate us from one another when children weren’t slaughtered for some unholy cause. We must remember—and soon if we are to end the ugly carnage end the madness of conquest silence the illusions that cloud our eyes. If we try, we can still sing songs of freedom hear the laughter of peace reclaim our birthright of connection, celebrate our common hopes support our common dreams dance into our ever-expanding future hand-in-hand heart-to-heart for you for me, for every living being https://www.magoism.net/2013/05/meet-mago-contributor-mary-saracino
(Meet Mago Contributor) Alshaad Kara

Alshaad Kara is a Mauritian poet who writes from his heart. He won the 2023 “Zheng Nian Cup” Literary Award Third Prize. His latest poems were published in “The Social Rhyme”, “Spered Gouez”, “Caractère” and “Coin-Operated Press” and “Slamming Bricks Anthology 3rd Edition”.
(Essay) Christian Women and Thealogy by Mary Ann Beavis

For several years, I have been researching a phenomenon that I call “Christian Goddess Spirituality” (CGS), a blending of elements from Christianity and Goddess Spirituality. I have interviewed over 100 women who self-describe as practicing CGS in some form, and held a focus group of fourteen CGS practitioners in June 2013. (The reason for interviewing women only at this stage in the research is strategic, as my hunch is that women and men seek the Goddess for different reasons.) This is a very condensed and preliminary report on some research results, focussing on the thealogical aspects of CGS, illustrated by quotations from the interviews.
(Essay 1) Baba part I: A Tale of Vasilisa the Wise by Jillian Parker

Evening came to the izba. The loom ceased its clatter. Vasilisa filled a dark iron kettle from a bucket of spring water, and set it on the shelf of the white-washed pechka, and the few droplets on it spoke with a satisfying hiss. She walked over to the wardrobe and took out a quilted coat. The coat was patched together from the odd ends of her woven work, and embroidered with curious symbols and flowers. Vasilisa slipped it over her shoulders, and reached for a pale spiderweb-knit scarf to cover her hair. “Verochka,” she murmured, “I’ll be back in a bit.”
Autumn as a Time of Rebirth and Renewal by Francesca Tronetti

From Wikimedia Commons Autumn has always been described as the end of the life cycle. The harvest must be collected before the plants wither back and die. Seeds are gathered and stored in a cool, dry, dark place until it is time to return them to the soil. The leaves fall, leaving the trees bare and dead-looking. Many birds migrate to spend the winter in a warmer climate. Where I live, I say goodbye to the hummingbirds and the turkey buzzards. The rest will gather around my bird feeders every day, looking for the food they need to survive. The days get shorter and cooler, and while I still do have some trips planned to enjoy the beautiful autumn foliage, it’s not the same as in summer. I plan more day trips to walk on trails that would typically be too hot during the summer. But most of the small towns I like to visit have closed down, and the beach shops and restaurants are boarded up, waiting for Memorial Day and the return of the summer tourists. Even if some shops or eateries are open, they sit along deserted roads once thronged with people and families. It is a depressing site to go along with the damp chill that blows in off the lake. In Greek mythology, the dying of the plants is a sign of Demeter’s mourning for the loss of her daughter, who must return to Hades in the Underworld. As her daughter descends into the realm of the dead, the earth’s vegetation joins her. Some plants die off, dropping their seeds so their descendants may rise next spring. Others wither back while in the soil, hibernating under the ground. Their roots remain active, spreading and growing to help them survive quietly until it is time to bloom again. Across the globe, autumn has the same meaning to human lives. It is when we must bring in the harvest and prepare to wait out the long, cold winter. Or some would follow the example of the birds and move further south, where they could continue to hunt and would not have to worry about the dangers of ice and snow. Either option meant a change in people’s lives and schedules dictated by the early darkness and the cold days. Most of us don’t move with the seasons anymore; we stay put and endure, but we plan for the winter, stocking up like our ancestors did. We ensure we have fuel to heat our homes, pellets for the stove, or propane deliveries. We stock the pantry with pasta, soups, and sauces to make hearty, filling meals. Other necessities are bought and stored in case we get stuck inside for several days due to a blizzard. It’s our version of hibernation; the house is full of food and warmth, and we are ready to Netflix our way into spring when we can get outside again. While I understand why autumn is the beginning of an extended downtime from an agricultural point of view, I also think that autumn can be a starting time and a time of renewal for our more creative side. During the summer, we want to be out and about, visiting places and enjoying nature and people. In America, summer is a time for many gatherings to share food and fun with family and friends. And while autumn and winter also have gathering times, they are often limited to a few weeks for parties. But, for the artistic person, autumn is when you can return to your creative mindset. While some see themselves as being trapped inside by bad weather, we see it as uninterrupted hours or even days we can dedicate ourselves to our craft. During fall, we pull out the projects we didn’t finish before the summer, writing projects, quilts that need finishing, or knitting we put on hold because who wants to work with a heavy afghan on their lap when it’s 90 degrees out? Autumn marks the beginning of the ‘me time; for the creative. Holidays follow one after the other quickly, and the warm colors of red and orange are soon covered by an icy blanket of snow, which can be menacing or nostalgic, depending on your artistic mood. This mood can inspire poetry and short stories or encourage us to take up a new hobby, to make a blanket against the cold. From Wikimedia Commons It is also when many return to their kitchens to recreate the foods they grew up on. Autumn and winter are when most people will try their hand at baking bread for the first time. Or they will enter a sugary wonderland of more than 200 Christmas cookie recipes to give to others this season. It is a rebirth into the traditions of our mothers, grandmothers, and great-grandmothers who taught their daughters how to make the bread they grew up eating. Or it is where we create new traditions with our daughters or friends and family who gather around the stove’s warmth. Autumn is when we renew the promises we made to complete projects, literary, artistic, or crafty. It is no wonder to me that November is National Novel Writing Month. This long month of cold, wet days, with snow at the end, is the perfect time to sit down and write the stories that have been bubbling up in our psyches and filling our notebooks all year with scenes and dialogue. Do not mourn the passing of Persephone into the Underworld nor the end of the warmth of summer. Embrace autumn as a time to renew your commitment to your creative and spiritual side. Write poems, prose, and stories. Create art even if only you see its beauty or fully understand its meaning. Autumn may be the end of the plant’s life cycle, but for humans, it can be the beginning of our creative one. https://www.magoism.net/2018/11/meet-mago-contributor-rev-francesca-tronetti-ph-d/
(Poem) Birth of Aphrodite #1 by Donna Snyder

she stands emptied her pallor bare to the world speckled and blemished and seemingly open the other half gone to the bottom of the sea its energy subsumed within her opalescent belly the soft flesh the muscular foot the valve opening only to close the world has left its grime on her fleshiness hematomas well up beneath her pellucid skin greens and blues and then magentas swell all the colors of sea foam wreathe her breasts somewhere long away from time’s wrath like Aphrodite absconded from the world she flees the bite of sun and harm of wind she averts her gaze and leaves nothing behind just a single shell to mark her own virgin birth modest she looks quietly at what creation offers and arranges its abundant gifts about her beauty soft flesh a muscular foot a valve opening only to close
The Circle Of Life And The Square of Opposition by Claire Dorey

Art by Claire Dorey [Author’s Note: Extract from a work in progress on the voice of the colonized, a female perspective on the Roman invasion of Ancient Briton.] I lie awake and fret when I sleep in the stone walled villa because it is square, a tight box of night terror, shadowy corners, perpendicular walls bearing down. Before the Romans coerced my parents into being quasi-monarchs, we lived in a round house, thatched roof, chinks of sky, breeze blowing through the walls. Squares are a symbol of invasion and occupation. My mother agrees. On dry nights we drag our bedding outside and sleep cocooned by the deep night so, if we need to, we can escape into the undergrowth. We have named the invaders, who are painfully, brutally, demonically carving up our Motherland, ‘The Squares!’ Phalanx of shields. Cage of oiled knees marching along a straight road. The fast track. Slaves in. Minerals out. Remote emperor’s approval rating soars. A dominator culture with weapons, plumb lines, grids and manuals, plowing through our sacred sites and breeding grounds, a bloodbath for voluptuous Mother Earth. Ours is a landscape inherited from the ancestors, stone circles tracking time, slabs of rock piercing her energy centres. We think the square is the shape of man’s divorce from nature, the shape of fear based living. “…. they have protected themselves with helmets and breastplates and [ ] with palisades and walls and trenches to make sure of suffering no harm by an incursion of their enemies. For they are influenced by their fears….” – Cassius Dio, Roman History. Epitome of Book LXII, Loeb Classical Library. We avoid walking past their fenced in forts. The soldiers, defensive, yet on the attack, heckle us from the ramparts. Man as microcosm, centre of the macrocosm, axis of the universe, is building structures in his own image, forgetting that the square fits inside the circle. They think the square is a symbol of man in perfect symmetry and that the human body dictates the dimensions of the universe. Man is seperating from the circle, the yoni, the Tel Mon, the Divine Feminine, the cosmos, the eternal return, the seed and the womb. It’s the ego pulling away from the Anu. “It is not alone by a circle, that the human body is thus circumscribed, as may be seen by placing it within a square.” – Vitruvius, Book III – De architectura. Geocentrism. Humanism. Anthropomorphism. All are alien to uterine cultures. Circles and squares are elements in sacred geometry, but the circle is the shape that encompasses all other shapes. The primordial shape of the creatrix, the one that came first, replicates to form the seed of life, the geometry of creation. Circular space is sacred space. The square fits inside the circle. “The square, a linear construct, is simply a unit,” say the Druid Priestesses, who mastered Pythagorean triples, long before Pythagoras gave these equations their name. We calculated the world was round thousands of years before Galileo was imprisoned for mentioning it. Mother Nature whispers the poetic language of least resistance, the path of the river, liberty and life unleashed. Her form appears organic to the observer yet within her there is complex, intelligent geometry. Perhaps Mother Nature is leaving the language of the square to humanity, so man can cost out his units in the format of a page. Mother nature has no need to cost the shapes she builds because wildness is never accountable! Straight lines and hard edges are the geometry of the coloniser, a capitalist construct, used to compartmentalise and monetarise space and time, a right angled prison of eternal slavery that keeps the cogs of empire turning. In circles everyone is welcome and it is personal, inclusive. Eyes looking inwards, we catch each other’s gaze. Hands held. An embrace. An unbroken chain. Everyone is invited to speak in a circle. In the square, the shape of hierarchy, man sits in rows, knowing his place, disconnected from the gaze of the community. Eyes down in shame, or focused forward to the top dog, the judge or preacher. In circles, the shape of infinite potential, there are no corners for the Shadow to hide in. The eyes of the community mirror back at you. Portals to inner wisdom and creativity open. Bad intentions can hide in the murky corners of squares, an ideal format for manipulation, suppression and propaganda, leading to the rigid caging of minds, with the potential for imprisonment. It’s a place for philosophical postulating, with a false sense of intelligence. Aristotle’s Square Of Opposition, which if you ask me is a nonsense, is a diagram of contradictions; a tight box for logic; a recipe for argument; a complex piece of over thinking, elevating bewilderment to an art form; a hare-brained attempt to slot the laws of the universe into a quadrilateral diagram, designed to raise the status of the philosopher! When you put the word SQUARE and OPPOSITION in the same sentence it reeks of ego and combat. Ancient Greek urban planner Hippodamus was the master of the quadrangle. His city grid system is an alien concept to us because we build our round houses where Mother Earth tells us to, harmonizing with her contours and vibration. We take the path of the serpent, the path of least resistance, meandering to protect the biosphere, avoiding nests and sacred trees, tuning into the Earth’s magnetism, in the same way birds do. Dividing Mother Earth’s sensual curves with meridians and parallels creates boundaries leading to battles for ownership. We observe cycles: the infinite geometries of the micro and macrocosm; the cycle of life, death and rebirth; the seasons and the motion of the cosmos. Our wide-eyed wisdom is encoded in the advent of dawn, in flower petals, the mathematics of the spiral. The forest and springs are our temples. Nature is our Goddess and the Goddess is the spirit of all nature. The Roman emperors deify themselves. They build quadrate temples and they …

(Special Post 5) Why Goddess Feminism, Activism, or Spirituality? A Collective Writing

[Editor’s Note: This was first proposed in The Mago Circle, Facebook Group, on March 6, 2014. We have our voices together below and publish them in sequels. It is an ongoing project and we encourage our reader to join us! Submit yours today to Helen Hwang (magoism@gmail.com). Or visit and contact someone in Return to Mago’s Partner Organizations.] Annie Finch For me, Goddess is completely different from God–Goddess means acceptance of the sacred WITHIN the physical instead of transcending the physical; acceptance of death and life as equally sacred; and the holiness of changing cycles…. Annie Finch, Maine anniefinch.com Marie de Kock Why Goddess spirituality? Goddess spirituality is crucial for our survival and the survival of our planet. I’m referring to every woman’s connection and relationship with her own Spirit which resides in her heart, and her own divine ability to create, which springs from her womb. The womb is infinitely more than a reproductive organ; it is a replica of the Cosmic Womb or Mago. From that profound pool of infinite silent knowledge, women can access the solutions so urgently needed to recover the equilibrium the world with its God spirituality has lost, and women can dream the solutions into being. It is the intelligence of the heart and intelligence of the womb that humanity needs in order to balance out the ill effects of our noisy ‘rational’ left brained society. Women carry the keys to the wisdom within them. Female spirituality is the door. Marie is in Chile for now http://ninenormalwomenwithwings.com Leslene Della-Madre Goddess among many things to me is a verb–Goddessing. “Goding” isn’t the same. She is Love in action in all things–she is the cosmic gen-Her-ator bringing life into form from primordial chaos, the twin serpents of coming and going. She is the plasMA of the YoniVerse filling space with her divine essence creating great beaded necklaces of galaxies all connected to each other by electric pathways. She is the All and Eternal. Leslene Della Madre, California USA midwifingdeath.com Diane Horton Sacred Goddess Sisterhood Each of our stories as women who have come to embrace the Goddess are varied and interesting. Certainly interesting to each other, as our spirits long to resonate with another who has had a similar journey. Mine began while I was still a member of the Episcopal Church and a Christian. But relative to many, it was not that long ago, just 18 years. Some women have been knowing and worshiping the Goddess for more than 30 years, some have only just come to the reawakening and re-membering recently. Some of us call ourselves witches, some priestesses, or both. Some do not identify with either of those words and simply say they have immersed themselves in the Divine Feminine, or that they worship the Goddess. Some will say they are Pagan or Wiccan or Dianic Wiccan. Whatever we call ourselves, or do not call ourselves, we are all Sisters in Goddess, those who worship the Great Mother. And though our numbers are growing, seemingly almost daily, we are still in a minority. We need those who are articulate to voice our views and we need wise teachers who can share practices, philosophy and knowledge with those who are eager for such spiritual food. One of the great things about this Goddess Path is that, although there is much written and oral knowledge to be had for those who seek it, the deepest part of this path is experiential. Personal experience with Goddess, deep within ourselves, and having our eyes opened to Her all around us all the time, seeing and feeling Her magic in our lives, knowing Her love and nurturance in our hearts. We have no dogma, no set of rules or commandments, no rigid ideology. We have our own hearts to guide us into all acts of love and pleasure, compassion, humility and reverence which are Her rituals. When we express strength, hold our power and honor life, as well as giggle and laugh, those are Her rituals, too. There are the Women’s Blood Mysteries, which set women apart from men who worship the Goddess, but that should serve to unite women in a strong eternal bond, not alienate men. There is no place for hierarchy. We are all women equal to each other as daughters of the Goddess. We cannot, we must not, allow the patriarchal mindset to contaminate Feminine Spirituality. No hierarchy, no duality, no controlling others. If we want to see a world in which the Divine Feminine is prominent, the world that many of us believe is coming, we need to take a good, hard look at ourselves in the mirror of our Sisters’ eyes and all of us individually commit ourselves to Unity, Sisterhood and Unconditional Love. That does not mean we will never disagree, and sometimes disagree vehemently, but it does mean we do not allow those disagreements to fracture us as a body of women or to damage or destroy our Sisterhood. There are many teachers who have their own followings of students, their own coursework, their own publications and newsletters, their own festivals they work all year to organize and make manifest. This is a good thing! Especially with the national economy the way it is now many, many women cannot afford to travel very far from their homes, so the fact that there are festivals in diverse parts of the country is no doubt just as the Goddess desires. Those who know of Her and hear Her call are greatly benefited by all of these in mind, heart and spirit. We all need each other. We who can spread this information far and wide need to do so, not just think of and promote the one group or project we are involved in ourselves individually. This is the BIG PICTURE. This is how the movement moves forward. This is how the Goddess gathers Her women (and men). Unification of purpose. Standing together. Supporting each other in concrete ways. We are Women of Goddess. Her spirit […]
(Special Post 2) "The Oldest Cilivization" and its Agendas by Mago Circle Members

[Editor’s Note: The following discussion took place in response to an article listed blow by the members of The Mago Cirlce, Facebook group of Goddessians/Magoists from May 6 to May 10, 2016. Readers are recommended to read the original article linked below that has invoked the converation.] “The Danube Civilization: Oldest in the World” in The Ancient Ones upon the ruins of our ancestors, published April 3, 2016.
(Special Post Mother Teresa 2) A Role Model for Women? by Mago Circle Members

[Editorial Note: The following is an edited version of the discussion that took place spontaneously on Mago Circle from March 1, 2013 for about two weeks. It was an extensive, heated, yet reflective discussion, now broken into four parts to fit the format of the blog. We thank each and all of the participants for your openness, generosity, and courage to stand up for what you believe and think! Some are marked as anonymous. As someone stated, something may have been “written in the heat of the moment” and some might like to change it at a later time. So we inform our readers that nothing is written in stone. As a matter of fact, the discussion is ongoing, now with Magoism Blog readers. Please comment and respond as you wish.] Part II: We Disagree! Stand up for what you believe but be open-minded! Naa Ayele Kumari: I am going to step away from the common responses and say this… Binary is only no in betweens if you choose sides and can’t see the whole. I have been a part of black consciousness movements and women’s movements and both have the capacity for progress as well as extreme viewpoints. Both have the capacity to become so hypercritical that the movement itself transcends common human compassion and understanding. Mother Teresa was a human being with flaws and goodness. She had a public image and private fears and insecurities.. l like all of us. She lived her life the best way she knew how.. Like all of us. She made mistakes.. misjudgments.. Like all of us. But she also DID help and inspire others to help too. It is this dualistic thinking that forces people to feel like they have to assign the label of good or bad and no in between. None of us are all good or all bad.. so it seems to me that to label her has an evil traitor who let people die is no better than labeling her an Angel of god who did no wrong. She was a woman who lived her life and managed to come to worldwide fame and inspire others to love at a time and in an institution that was highly patriarchal and women were not raised up at all. Mother Goddesses in Africa were known for great nurturing and care symbolized by carrying a baby and also carried a machete on the other side for justice. This was the fine balance of wholeness…she was the gentle rain and the storm.. This was binary, but not one or the other but both.. Opposite ends of the same pole. [H]: I’m having a powerful visceral effect from this conversation. I feel as if I’m going to vomit violently. Mother Teresa comes to me in dreams and meditations. Makes me wonder what kind of person I’m seen as if I attract her energy. I have always felt so much love for her. Naa Ayele Kumari: If she comes in your dreams and it has been healing for you… Allow it/ her to continue to be healing for you. Its all about love and anything that is not love… Leave it be.. Vomiting is rejecting something that doesn’t belong with you. Embrace love my sister. Antonia McGuire: I think we may all agree that all belief systems initially began to promote a sense of goodness or fairness to some degree, but over time they are corrupted and produce both advantages and disadvantages. Donna Snyder: Yes, Gandhi, too. Back in the 90’s when I was in a band/performance art troupe called Central Nervous System, I shocked all the guys in the band coming out with an improv in response to a melody played on a banjo tuned like a sitar, called exactly that-Yes, Gandhi. Now make no mistake, he is one of my heroes, devoid of the falsified sentimentality that clings to MT. Gandhi’s work was for the world, for the masses, not for the appropriately humbled. Yet I spoke out about his sexual practices, his use of female bodies. Telling the truth about a hero requires courage. Retreating into a blind defense of a myth is a form of ethical cowardice. Anne Wilkerson Allen: Strangely I had a discussion with someone about the “hero’s journey” moving from metaphorical to physical being part of the problem…..when the “demons” are human instead of our own flaws, there seems to be a tendency to point the finger (and gun barrel) elsewhere. [B]: Fascinating & thought-provoking conversation, all. I think the biggest stumbling block I have with MT is how her acceptance of the dogma of the Catholic church blinded her to seeing and then being moved by the suffering of others enough to do something to alleviate & not vicariously celebrate it. No wonder she “suffered a lack of connection with the Divine”. This crisis with her spirituality seems to have been divorced from her and others’ body wisdom. Self-abnegation (perhaps not the same as “sacrifice”) ultimately backfires because some small part of us insists, “I am worthy!” To which I say, “We are all worthy!” [H]: I do not see or feel that she vicariously celebrated the suffering of others. I feel that she devoted her life to deeply loving and serving the poorest of the poor. I have not been to Calcutta and I have also seen some unimaginable poverty in India that is not like anything that I’ve been exposed to before. I truly believe that she had a very deep way of working with suffering that is not necessarily visible to those more accustomed to modern medical intervention and the resources available for such. I have participated in a very small amount of poverty medicine and the resources that we take for granted are just not readily available to MANY. I learned very powerfully from my experience how blessed and fortunate and often very careless we really are with our precious resources. This discussion has been a learning experience for me. I am trying to not take the critical comments […]

(Mago Almanac Excerpt 5) Introducing the Magoist Calendar by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

Mago Almanac: 13 Month 28 Day Calendar (Book A) Free PDF available at Mago Bookstore. THE 28-13-7 INTERPLAY How does the number, 28 (days), for the lunar cycle come about? Why is it 28 days and not 29 or 30, the latter implicated in the traditional lunar calendar of East Asia? It appears that 28 days is a value closer to the moon’s sidereal period (about 27.3 days) than the synodic period (about 29.5 days). Or is it that 28 days points to the median between the synodic lunar cycle and the sidereal lunar cycle? To answer these questions, it is important to note that a value in the Mago Time captures an inter-cosmic biological cusp/juncture derived from the matrix of sonic numerology. Distinguished from the patriarchal measure of time fixated into a solipsistic space, it makes visible the interconnectedness of all bodies. It never stands as an isolated single occasion. The 28 day, 13 month calendar has to do with how we perceive the moon. There are two ways of understanding the lunar cycle; the sidereal period and the synodic period (see Figure 2). The synodic period refers to the time, about 29.5 days, that we on earth see the moon complete one round of revolution, e.g. from the full moon to the full moon. In contrast, the sidereal period refers to the actual time, about 27.3 days, that the moon takes to complete one round of revolution. While the synodic time is measured relative to the Earth (the observer’s position is on earth), the sidereal time is measured relative to the distant “fixed” stars (the observer’s position is far out at the distant stars). Since the distant stars are considered at rest, the sidereal period is taken as a universal value, not affected by the location of the viewer, we on earth. There is, apparently, a discrepancy between the lunar cycle that we on earth see the moon return to the same phase and the lunar cycle that the moon actually completes a revolution. The former is based on our observation of the moon’s phases, whereas the latter is based on the moon’s actual orbital motions. The two differs basically because all celestial bodies, the moon, earth, and sun, in the solar system are in motion. It is not just the moon that we watch revolving but Earth also revolves around the sun. We are watching the movement of the moon on a moving vehicle, earth, so to speak. Therefore, the moon has to travel about 2 more days in order for us on earth to see it in the same phase (see the green portion in Figure 2 part). At the position A of the moon in Figure 2, the moon is in line with the sun and the distant stars, which is a new moon. In the position of B (the new moon), the moon is in line with the sun but not with the distant stars. The right hand line of the green portion in line with the distant stars is where the moon started as a new moon. The moon has traveled about 2 more days to be in line with the sun. That is why the synodic period is about 2 days longer than the sidereal period. When it comes to “the lunar calendar”, moderns tend to think of it as the waxing and waning phases of the moon (29.5 days, the synodic period). The problem lies in that, following the synodic period, people see nothing beyond the moon’s phases. They overlook the fact that the moon rotates and revolves on its own axis and around the earth approximately 13 degrees every day. The synodic lunisolar calendar is a navel-gazing vision. Attending to the moon’s phases may seem benign. However, that is a planned pitfall; the synodic lunisolar calendar with 12 months in a year is here to supersede the 28 day, 13 month gynocentric calendar. Its irregularity with the number of days in a month (29 or 30 days with about 11 extra days for intercalation) is an inherently critical flaw. Its inaccuracy when incorporated within the solar annual calendar (approximately 365.25 days) stands out. Seen below in the table, the synodic lunar track results in as many leap days as a total of 44 days for 4 years, whereas the sidereal lunar track has 2 days for 4 years. The synodic lunisolar calendar undercuts the moon’s given capacity – guiding earthly beings into the intergalactic voyage of WE/HERE/NOW. In it, both the moon and women are, glorified and objectified by the viewer, cast under the male voyeuristic eye. On the contrary, the sidereal lunisolar calendar, based on the cyclic synchrony between the moon and women, offers the lens to the interconnectedness of all bodies in the universe. Synodic Lunar Track (Patriarchal) Sidereal Lunar Track (Magoist) Focus Moon’s phases Moon’s motions Days of month 29 or 30 (irregular) 28 (regular) No. of months in a year 12 13 Women’s menstrual cycle Assumed sync Synced Luni-centric Astolonomy Unknown 28 Constellations Intercalations 11 days annually, a total of 44 days for 4 years 1 day annually & 1 day every 4 years, a total of 2 days for 4 years Sources prove that the sidereal lunation is, albeit esoterically, known across cultures to this day. Through the comparative study of ancient cultures of Babylon, Arabia, India and China, W. B. Yeats (1865-1939) observes the substantive difference in dynamic between the two lunation tracks, the synodic and the sidereal. He notes that the moon’s orbital motion, apart from the sun’s, charts out the celestial sphere as the 28 Mansions. I have learned that the 28 Mansions or 28 Constellations of the Moon is a popular form of the 28 day and 13 month Magoist calendar, widely circulated among East Asians especially Koreans from the ancient time. Yeats’ following insights corroborate the Budoji’s explication of the Magoist Calendar in general and the faulty nature of the patriarchal (ancient Chinese) calendar in …
(Music) Songs for Samhain by Alison Newvine

The season of Samhain is upon us. This playlist is an offering for this descent into the sacred darkness, and a companion for the journey into the underworld. Invocation of Witches features music by Loreena McKennitt, Marya Stark, Inkubus Sukubus, Wendy Rule, my band Spiral Muse, and many others. It is a soundtrack for ceremony and each song expresses a different face of the spirit of the witch. May this Samhain season guide you gently into the dissolution of what no longer serves, the honoring of what is complete and the cultivation of the inner space that will gestate what is yet to come. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2CFNoH9exhloz3w95P3Rlb?si=270cf01fabb8421c https://www.magoism.net/2023/10/meet-mago-contributor-alison-newvine/
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.
(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 …
(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
(Video) Autumn Equinox/Mabon Poetry by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

The Autumnal Equinox occurs each year in the range of March 20-23 in the Southern Hemisphere, and in the range of September 20 -23 in the Northern Hemisphere. Autumn Equinox is a point of sacred balance: it is the point of balance in the dark part of Earth’s annual cycle. Sun is equidistant between North and South as it was/is at Spring Equinox, but in this dark phase of the cycle, the trend is toward increasing dark. Henceforth the dark part of the day will exceed the light part: thus it is a Moment of certain descent … and a sacred Moment for feeling and contemplating the grief and power of loss, for ceremoniously joining personal and collective grief and loss with the larger Self in whom we are. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vcZflKLkvP8 Below is the text of the video. It is based on the traditional poetry for PaGaian Autumn Equinox/Mabon ceremony[i]. This is the Moment of the Autumnal Equinox in our Hemisphere – the moment of balance of light and dark in the dark part of the cycle. The light and dark parts of the day in the South and in the North of our planet, are of equal length at this time. We feel for the balance in this moment – Earth as She is poised in relationship with the Sun … breathing in the light, swelling with it, letting our breath go to the dark, staying with it. In our part of Earth, the balance is tipping into the dark. We remember the coolness of it. This is the time when we give thanks for our harvests – all that we have gained. And we remember too the sorrows, losses involved. The story of Old tells us that Persephone, Beloved Daughter, is given the wheat from Her Mother – the Mystery, knowledge of life and death. She receives it graciously. But she sets forth into the darkness – both Mother and Daughter grieve that it is so. Demeter, the Mother, says: “You are offered the wheat in every moment … I let you go as Child, most loved of Mine: you descend to Wisdom, to Sovereignty. You will return as Mother, co-Creator with me. You are the Seed in the Fruit, becoming the Fruit in the Seed. Inner Wisdom guides your path.” We give thanks for our harvests – our lives they are blessed. We are Daughters and Sons of the Mother. Yet we take our Wisdom and all that we have gained, and remember the sorrows – the losses involved. We remember the grief of the Mother, of mothers and lovers everywhere, our grief. Persephone descends. The Beloved One is lost. Persephone goes forth into the darkness to become Queen of that world. She tends the sorrows. The Seed represents our Persephones, who tends the sorrows – we are the Persephones, who may tend the sorrows. We go out into the night with Her and plant our seeds. Persephone blesses us with her fertile promise: “You have waxed into the fullness of life, And waned into darkness; May you be renewed in tranquility and wisdom[ii].” These represent our hope. The Seed of life never fades away. She is always present. Blessed be the Mother of all life. Blessed be the life that comes from Her and returns to Her. We tie red threads on each other: we participate in the Vision of the Seed – of the continuity of Life, that continues beneath the visible. The Mother knowledge grows within us. Our hope is in the Sacred Balance of the Cosmos – the Thread of Life, the Seed that never fades away: it is the Balance of Grief and Joy, the Care that we may feel in our Hearts. NOTES: [i] Glenys Livingstone, PaGaian Cosmology, p. 239-247. [ii] Charlene Spretrnak, Lost Goddesses of Early Greece, p. 116. REFERENCES: Livingstone, Glenys. PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion. NE: iUniverse, 2005. Spretnak, Charlene. Lost Goddesses of Early Greece: a Collection of Pre-Hellenic Myths. Boston: Beacon Press, 1992/1978.

(Book Excerpt 4) The Mago Way by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D.

[Author’s Note] The following is from Chapter One, “What Is Mago and Magoism and How Did I Study HER?” from The Mago Way: Re-discovering Mago, the Great Goddess from East Asia, Volume 1. Footnotes below would be different from the monograph version. PDF book of The Mago Way Volume 1 download is available for free here.] This chapter,[i] interweaving the personal (how I came to study Mago) and the political (why I advocate Magoism), informs the general and particular tenets of Magoism. My study of Mago was, although it took the form of a doctoral dissertation, ultimately motivated by my self-searching quest as a Korean-born radical feminist. I came to encounter the Great Goddess known as Mago in East Asia by way of several detours on my life’s journey. Like my non-Western and
(Bell Essay 2) Ancient Korean Bells and Magoism by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

Part II Overall Structure and Parts of the Ancient Korean Bell The ancient Korean bell takes on the female form figuratively. In other words, its female implication is expressed symbolically rather than descriptively. Unlike the ancient Greek bell that literally depicts a woman’s body (See Bell Essay 1), the ancient Korean bell characterizes female anatomy with symbols and designs. Neither limbs nor a human face is seen. Instead, breasts and nipples are stylized. The head is represented by a dragon. The belly is adorned with the relief of celestial nymphs. The female symbology that the bell invokes is not limited to the material body of the bell only, however. The legend of a female child sacrifice to the casting of the bell should be taken in the light of its female symbology. Likewise, the inscription made on the Sangwonsa Jong indicating that the commissioner was a woman needs to be taken into consideration. Foremost, the Magoist cosmogony that attributes cosmic music to ultimate creativity holds the key to unlock the very purpose of the bell: The bell is created to sound the Call of Mago, the Great Goddess. Visualizing Her, the bell emits the Sound of Mago for which its sacredness is explained. The bell, if we call it Buddhist, redefines Buddhism, Korean Buddhism, to be precise. It calls people to the arcane knowledge of the female origin. These points are to be discussed in more detail in the forthcoming sequels. In this part, I discuss the overall structure of the bell and examine some major characteristics of its parts. An ancient Korean bell consists of two parts: the bell’s body (jongsin) and the dragon loop (yongnu). The bell’s body part includes the Nipples, the Bell Breast, the Breast Circumference, Bell’s Belly, Celestial Nymphs, Bell’s Mouth, the Striking Seat, the Heavenly Plate, the Upper Support, and the Lower Support. And the dragon loop part includes the Dragon Loop and the Dragon Tube (Sound Tube). In addition, the piece of wood (mallet) that is designed to strike the bell on Dangjwa (Striking Seat) is called Dangmok (the Striking Wood). It also requires an Ullimtong (Depressed Ground for Sound Transmission) for the sound waves to travel. Each part, as a microcosm, adds to the beauty and function of the bell. Images sculpted including foliage, flower, lotus, humans, celestial nymphs, breasts, nipples, and dragon are achieved in sophistication. Artistic mastery is sublime. Behold! The bell is a metaphor of not only the body of a woman, the vulva in particular, but also what she is, her purpose! The bell transforms the female to the divine, the Goddess. Now I invite the reader to take note of the overall shape of the bell made in the form of a large Korean crock (hangari) placed upside down. The curved line drawn from top to bottom with the diameter of its mouth smaller than that of the belly is another distinguishing feature. In fact, there are quite a few features that distinguish ancient Korean bells from the bells of China and Japan. The parts that I illustrated above, in particular the nine Nipples, the Bell Breast, the Dragon Tube, Celestial Nymphs, and the Striking Seat, are its representative characteristics. As a percussion instrument, the ancient Korean bell epitomizes precision and sophistication. Everything contained on the surface of the bell is made to resonate with the inner hollow to maximize the travel of sound waves. As shown below in the figure, even the metal residue remaining on the inner wall plays a key role, creating the sound waves. Without those irregular lumps, the sound will have a far lower frequency making fewer waves. In other words, the rough surface of the inner hollow is intentional. Beauty and functionality are conjoined to create the sound of the Goddess. Functional parts such as the Dragon Loop, Dragon Tube (or Sound Tube), and the Striking Seat are seamlessly integrated with the artistry. The Dragon Loop is there to represent the divinity of the Goddess and at once to be used as a hook for hanging. The Dragon Tube open-ended upward is there to vent out the impurity of the sound. When all is said and done, it is designed not just to please the eye but to awaken the mind to seek. The bell in its mesmerizing beauty wakes up the mind of people, otherwise made dull or dormant under patriarchal inflictive routines. Buddhists might say that the reality to which the sound calls is “the way things are” or “suchness.” However, such understanding is only a tingle of the patriarchal mind that refuses to hear the deeper call. The bell awakens people to the reality of the Goddess. Each striking carries the pulse of Mago, the Great Goddess. Sources: Norugwi. [http://blog.daum.net/euijj31/11296149] Cultural Heritage Administration [http://www.cha.go.kr/main/KorIndex!korMain.action] Sin Hyeongjun. “Why is the Sound of Bell beautiful? The Delicacy of the Striking Spot… The Uneven Thickness Creates Sound Waves” Choson Ilbo, October, 9, 2001. (To be continued in Part III, Read Part I)
(Italian language essay) Corea: la Musica cosmica di Mago by Luciana Percovich

[Author’s note: From Colei che dà la vita. Colei che dà la forma. Miti di creazione femminili, Venexia, Roma, Italia, 2009] Capitolo 3 Corea: la Musica cosmica di Mago Mago Nell’Età del Primo Cielo, esistevano solo la luce del sole e l’acqua. Quando Ryoe Ryul (la Musica cosmica armonizzata) risuonò più volte, emersero le stelle. Da Pal Ryoe (la Musica cosmica otto volte avvolta), si generarono Mago e il paradiso di Mago (Mago Sung). Fu un evento che ebbe luogo nell’Età Cosmica di Mezzo chiamata Jim Se (il Suo/Loro mondo). Mago preparò l’età che si chiama Ultimo Cielo. Mago non provava sentimenti né di piacere né di dolore. Nell’Età del Primo Cielo la grande cittadella di Mago stava sopra il SilDal (la Terra reale) e vicina all’HeoDal (la Terra ideale). Anche queste erano emerse dalla musica. Quando il Jim Se ebbe compiuto i suoi cicli per molto tempo, prima dell’Ultimo Cielo (il Nostro/Questo mondo), Mago generò da sola due figlie, Kung Hee (volta) e So Hee (nido) e affidò loro l’Oem Chil Jo (le cinque note e i sette toni). E mentre praticavano l’arte di vivere, dalla terra sgorgava il latte; Kung Hee e So Hee generarono ciascuna due figlie e due figli. In seguito, Mago affidò Ryoe (la Musica cosmica femminile) alle quattro nipoti femmine e Ryul (la Musica cosmica maschile) ai quattro nipoti maschi. Il paradiso di Mago, Mago Sung (la cittadella di Mago), che onorava l’Emblema celeste, seguì al Primo Cielo. Le quattro coppie, chiamate Hwang Gung (volta gialla), Baek So (nido bianco), Chun Gung (volta azzurra) e Heuk So (nido nero) furono posizionate ai quattro angoli della città. Ed esse costruirono i tubi (flauti) e composero musica. Il ciclo dell’Ultimo Cielo si srotolava. Ryul e Ryoe tornavano a risuonare. Si formò Hyang Sang (la rappresentazione dell’eco), suoni e musica si mescolavano. Mago tirò la grande cittadella di SilDal e la immerse nella regione dell’Acqua celeste. L’energia del SilDal salì e coprì la nuvola d’acqua. Quando il corpo del SilDal si espanse, comparve la terra in mezzo all’acqua. Terra e acqua stavano parallele, sorsero le montagne e le correnti si allungarono. La regione dell’Acqua celeste divenne terra e le due nuove regioni di acqua e terra ruotarono ripetutamente, finché il sopra e il sotto si rovesciarono. Da qui iniziarono numeri e calendario. Energia, fuoco, acqua e terra si generavano, mescolavano e equilibravano in mutua relazione. Da quel momento la luce separò il giorno dalla notte e le quattro stagioni. Piante e animali crescevano in abbondanza. C’era tanto lavoro da fare sulla terra… Poiché non c’erano altri se non i quattro uomini e le quattro donne celesti che amministravano la musica originale e la rappresentazione dell’eco, le cose apparivano e sparivano rapidamente senza tenersi in equilibrio. Mago allora mostrò loro come procreare dalle ascelle. Fu allora che i quattro uomini celesti si unirono alle quattro donne celesti. E ciascuna generò tre figlie e tre figli: gli antenati umani che apparvero per la prima volta sulla terra. Tutti gli abitanti di Mago Sung avevano disposizioni di cuore e di mente pure e sincere e conoscevano l’armonia. Bevevano il latte che sgorgava dalla terra e il loro sangue era energia pura. Avevano oro nelle orecchie e sentivano la musica celeste. Correvano e camminavano a loro piacere, erano liberi nei movimenti. Alla fine della loro vita, diventavano polvere dorata. L’essenza dei loro corpi si conservava. Con l’hon (spirito dell’aria) risvegliato, sapevano parlare senza voce e muovendo il baek (spirito del corpo) sapevano agire senza forme. Vivevano sparsi tra le energie della terra e la lunghezza delle loro esistenze era infinita… Quando ogni clan raggiunse il numero di 3000 … Ji So (nido di ramo), del clan dei Baek So (nido bianco), non riuscì più a bere il latte della terra. La sorgente del latte era così piccola e affollata che Ji So perse il suo turno più volte. Così Ji So per la fame assaggiò l’uva e invitò altri a farlo e fu così che un gruppo fu mosso a provare questa nuova esperienza… Il loro sangue e il loro corpo cominciarono a diventare torbidi, crebbero loro i denti, gli si aprirono gli occhi … stavano perdendo la loro natura celeste. Cominciarono a morire e la morte non fece più parte della vita. Nacquero creature bestiali. L’ordinato calendario cadde nel disordine. La comunità si divise e quelli che mangiavano l’uva lasciarono Mago Sung con vergogna, disperdendosi in luoghi diversi … . Fu allora che Mago chiuse i cancelli e ritirò le nuvole attraverso cui la gente poteva restare in sintonia con la Musica cosmica.

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