September 16, 2021September 25, 2021 Kaalii CargillLeave a comment

(Essay) Fear Is The Mind Killer by Kaalii Cargill

“Buying a car without warranty or a buying a used car with no warranty is clearly something you’d never want to do . . .” https://www.carsguide.com.au/car-advice/should-i-buy-a-used-car-without-a-warranty-31054 Why, then, would we choose Read More …

September 15, 2021September 15, 2021 Mago Work Admin1 Comment

(Dual-language Essay 1) The Goddess of Spirals by Noris Binet

I began a drawing about the great Mother Goddess. The drawing was calling me. It wanted to be born. The goddess’ body is a swirl of spirals. I felt navigating Read More …

September 13, 2021September 3, 2021 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

Moving towards the Dark… “Elder”berry Musings… by Sara Wright

“I wake up under a tropical dome that has been with us most of August. The thick air feels like it is smothering me, and with emphysema that may not Read More …

September 10, 2021September 10, 2021 Mago Work Admin3 Comments

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 Read More …

September 9, 2021July 16, 2021 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Pandemic Poem 9) Underway by Jyoti Wind

My indoor geranium is getting ready to bud. In my neighborhood, I’m surrounded by re-incarnated monks and nuns. Mountain lions come down from the hills to roam the empty streets. Read More …

September 2, 2021September 2, 2021 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Tribute) In Memoriam, Carol Patrice Christ (1945-2021) by Mara Lynn Keller

“In Goddess religion death is not feared, but is understood to be a part of life, followed by birth and renewal.” — Carol P. Christ Carol Patrice Christ died peacefully on Read More …

September 1, 2021August 27, 2021 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Video 4) Sherri Mitchell & Jodie Evans in Maternal Gift Economy: Breaking Through by Genevieve Vaughan

[Words of Invitation] Drawing on Maternal Gift Economy theory, the suppressed wisdom of women, and the traditions and ethics of Indigenous societies, this integrated programme of presentations sponsored by the Read More …

August 31, 2021January 24, 2022 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(She Summons Excerpt) Flying Lessons: Inquire Within for Hungry Ghosts by Cynthia Tom

Growing up with a Chinese culture that values the son, but negates the daughter, Cynthia Tom uses art to unravel and address embedded feelings of being invisible and unnecessary. In Read More …

August 30, 2021September 3, 2021 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Tribute) Midsummer Births a Goddess, Carol P. Christ (1945-2021) by Sara Wright

[Author’s Note: I wrote the prose and poem this morning July 14th for Carol’s blog not knowing at that time that this most compassionate woman, feminist scholar, mentor, friend had Read More …

July 17, 2021July 18, 2021 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Meet Mago Contributor) Cynthia Tom

A San Francisco mixed-media artist, painter, and curator of 30+ years, Cynthia’s work is known as an inspiration for healing, empowerment, social change and fostering community. Coming from a Chinese culture that Read More …

July 6, 2021July 2, 2021 Kaalii CargillLeave a comment

(Essay) Goddess as Living Presence by Kaalii Cargill

We all know that there are forces within the psyche that profoundly affect our experience of ourselves and the world. By coming to know these, we know ourselves at a Read More …

July 5, 2021May 2, 2021 RTMeditorsKGLeave a comment

(Book Review) Gillian M. E. Alban’s The Medusa Gaze in Contemporary Women’s Fiction by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

Beginning with some quotes from this ovarian book: “Alban reflects throughout this book on the myriad ways women and girls are gazed upon within patriarchal cultures as well as examples Read More …

July 2, 2021July 2, 2021 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Poem) Cyane by Susan Hawthorne

moon pool, colour code for blue Cyane is older than us all river home for a Sicilian nymph but she was no nymphette she stood up to the death god Read More …

(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 initially from a place of deep concern over the state of our environment, particularly plans the Australian government has for coal mining and fracking. A ‘Lock the Gate’ meeting for local goddesses was held at my space ‘Goddesses Garden and Studio’ and we were informed of many of the issues related to these practices including gas leaks into drinking water, the effects on local eco-systems, farming land and wildlife. The feelings that arose were so overwhelming. We need to do all that we can, in the ways that we know how to raise awareness of such issues and support those who are doing the work so that we can protect the planet. As an artist I have a social responsibility to use the gift as way to inform and as a way to process the inner turmoil that is created when confronted with such dire situations. Protectress sits on the land Australia, the waters are clear and flow freely through her heart. She is at one and wholly connected to the earth, the tree roots and rivers flowing into her. Her garment is representative of the ‘veil of illusion’ that the presenter spoke about. The kookaburra is symbolic of freedom and determination. She is also symbolic of Australia’s indigenous heritage, those who walked these lands for thousands and thousands of years before, knowing it intimately, living at one and in tune with its rhythms and cycles. Protecting it. The land is our sustenance, our nourishment. We cannot survive in an unhealthy environment. She is a reminder to take action and stand up for what you believe in. Read Meet Mago Contributor Jassy Watson.
(Poem & Prose) Climate Grief by Susan Hawthorne

Drought, 1967 Mother, you and I walk acrossthe bladeless paddock, kicking dust Oh, it breaks my heart so, you say–a sentence exhaled with sadness Only now, do I really feel whatyou said and how you said it. I’m now a little older than you werewhen dust and sighing mixed with those words. It is thirty years and droughtis here again. There is something about the air, the layering of dust, the lossof grass, the particular sway of old eucalypt branches and their browningeaves. I feel my chest fill to breaking I’d like to ask if you too think it’s worsethis time–How long for recovery? Every grief is simply layeredon top of the last. And the last. Does the earth feel that way too?How many griefs must we ply and plough? How many layers beforethe sadness breaks the earth’s heart? I have recently revisted this poem (written in 2008) because I have been thinking a lot about grief for the planet. Seeing the fires roar through California reminds me of drought and of the fires that devastated Australia from September 2019 through to March 2020. This is climate catastrophe. In the prehistory era, while there would be fires and environmental catastrophes, they were not human made because in that time people living in gynocantric communities worked with nature. This poem is from Unsettling the Land by Suzanne Bellamy and Susan Hawthorne. I write about the subject of grief and climate catstrophe in my forthcoming book Vortex: The Crisis of Patriarchy which will be published simultaneously around the world in November 2020. https://www.spinifexpress.com.au/shop/p/9781876756703 https://www.spinifexpress.com.au/shop/p/9781925950168 https://www.magoism.net/2013/12/meet-mago-contributor-susan-hawthone/
(Meet Mago Contributor) Susan Abbott

Susan Abbott catches her creative inspiration from the individual and collective genius of rebellious women. She works in a gynographic milieu that affirms their sacred incendiary spirit. Her watercolors are known for their evocative bold colors and themes. She has shown her work in Joshua Tree, California at local galleries, shops, farmers markets, and her own Dancing Wind Studio Gallery. Her poetry chapbook “Nasty Woman Rise: The Dream and the Curse” was recently published by Cholla Needles. Her art also appears in “The Mojave Muse Major Arcana Tarot Deck” (2016) and “Woman Awake” (online journal). She has a Facebook page “Susan AbbottWatercolors” where you can see and order more of her work.
(Prose) First Call to Ceremony by Sara Wright

Photo by Sara Wright I prepare for winter by tipping sweet balsam to make my wreath. Always an intentional undertaking, I honor all evergreens during this month and next as I weave myself into the Circle of Life with fragrant boughs… I gather my balsam candles and put lights on my little Norfolk Island Pine in preparation for the Festival of Fire, scattering crimson cranberries around her base. Adding acorns, hemlock cones, moss and lichen attach me to ‘All There Is’. Photo by Sara Wright Inside and outside are One… “I am a lady in waiting”… I have learned that Nature decides when it’s time to engage in any ceremony that helps spin the wheel – I listen for the call. At this turning I light the Solstice Fire more than once, acknowledging the element’s ambivalent Powers, the long winter nights. I had just completed some painful shadow work. This year it involved holding loved ones accountable for a lifetime of betrayals. I owned my confusion. Applauded my accountability. I had been blind; I could not see or believe what my body knew, perhaps because I had been cut away from my roots. My 50 percent. There are always two sides… Hardest to bear is the feeling that Love lives on and is not dependent on behavior no matter how cruel the actions might be. Owning this last truth created the most excruciating griefof all. I spent the remainder of that day gripped by heartbreak. On the heels of diving deep I felt my inner fire igniting. I awakened feeling lighter … An early winter storm was brewing as I made my way to the brook and down to the field, perhaps for the last time. I am flowing with what happens as climate change has her way. For the last few years, a frozen slippery crust has replaced soft snow making snowshoeing impossible, so I take advantage of these last wet wheat leafed days to spend time walking on my paths, soaking in the emerald green tree moss that makes her way up tree trunks, conversing with field and brook spirits. These intentional jaunts inspire gratitude allowing me to celebrate the joy of living in such a place…being able to walk at all is this year’s greatest gift. That same afternoon while snowflakes drifted earthward, I went outdoors once again, this time to be in the presence of whirling winter’s early embrace. Thoughts of somber winter goddesses floated through my mind, and I could almost see one hovering, her dark gray mantle flowing through the trees. These dark winter goddesses speak the truth so many don’t want to hear – this season is not a kind one, and death is in the air although one day these forces will usher in rebirth like the bear does once the dark winter tunnel has been traversed. A bird standing in the snow By midafternoon a pearl white shroud covered the twigs, needles, and branches of each tree, and sodden snow lay at my feet. The first ‘call’ when it came surprised me because it was only December 3rd. More than a vague nudge, a sharp sense of knowing flowed through my body lodging itself in my mind. Time to light the Solstice Fire for the first time, to ask for protection from dark spirits, to accept the coming season’s white glare, biting winds and storms, to celebrate the warmth of being held by the Gift of Life Herself. I had yet to construct my mask… Had the shadow work I’d done brought this early intentional lighting on? I had no way of knowing. Returning to the cabin I kindled a fire that lit up the entire room – a warm glow seemed to penetrate every crevice even as it seeped into my heart. The first fire to be lit this year… I suspected there would be another… Ceremony makes her own rules. Grouse, photo by Sara Wright I gathered a ball of frozen snow melting it for our blessing and lit the candle inside the wreath. We sat, the dogs and I caught by the magic of scrying flames and the fragrant scent of balsam. Andrea Bocelli’s Aver Maria floated through the room as the dogs sighed and slept. Our bird was already asleep in his bower. It was in this manner that we first surrendered to the season and the uncertainty of winter white. We had entered a mystical realm for a few brief hours. Afterwards, a simple repast and one more venture outside into the dark, this time under heavy falling snow. Anxiety struck around 2 AM catapulting me into the future as I fretted… Would there be too much snow to move by daybreak? This morning at 5 after shoveling our way out the door in the dark feeling oh, too old and vulnerable, I remembered those precious hours… Later I had two visitors. The first female cardinal I’ve seen in months was hungrily cracking and eating the seeds I left on the windowsill. She thoughtfully left me a rose tipped feather. The next morning another beloved, grandmother grouse appeared. Messengers from the Beyond – the goddess returns benign. Postscript In most cultures except ours birds that appear at significant times are seen as ‘messengers from the beyond’. I don’t know if having life -long relationships with birds makes a discernable difference, but birds DO bring messages to me that are amazingly consistent. For example, two days after completing the shadow work the owl hooted just outside my window bringing on a chill, because owls are always associated with my mother who remains a dark figure in my life. https://www.magoism.net/2014/12/meet-mago-contributor-sara-wright/
(Poem) Angel Tongues by Susan Hawthorne

A beguine, Excerpt from a manuscript of the beguinage of Sint-Aubertus in Ghent. Made ca. 1840. From Wikimedia Commons Hail Mary Mother of God Queen of Heaven Star of the Sea you are a lover to me our bodies shiver in the cold each shiver a sacrament proof of purity our passion is a cross we bear some seek solace in particular friendships Sister Timothy Sister Ignatia Sister Mathias Sister Sebastian grant this day we fall into no sin we are daughters of Babylon some of us have been whores we have sinned my left hand is cunning my tongue more so have mercy upon us miserable sinners at night in our single beds lying on tight starched sheets we have sex we are catholic girls our hands reach across to the next bed we touch our fingers sing with desire fingers follow fingers down to the webbing across the palm knuckles nails in the dark we have sex with our hands our senses escaping God’s custody we pray the rosary slipping through our fingers our fingers are nimble and quick our tongues flick through the prayers collects meditations psalms chants some of us old women knead ivory beads and spin prayer wheels in mountains which reach almost to heaven we intone om mani padme aum clouds wrap themselves around us the peaks as sharp as a knife edge keen as a blade surly as any city gurl we live in hermitages painted red wolves snow leopards prowl when food is scarce we live among women the days of our lives spent in Beguinages in convents in monasteries in abbeys in nunneries in houses of caritas we are sisters of mercy we are sisters of charity we are sisters to one another some of us have become priests ministers rabbis celebrants mystics spiritual leaders and founders of religions it is harder to know whether we have ever been popes we also run laugh dance sing we eat in the refectorysome of us have taken a vow of silence some of us persecute ourselves with flagellation hairshirts knives cords to show our passion some have seen visions a winged woman in scarlet and purple the mother of harlots of lesbians of loose women of carnal lust a friend of the lion the dragon the eagle but not of the lamb we are fallen Babylon is fallen is fallen is fallen we anoint our bodies with oil we anoint our heads with oil there are some who work with the sick and the poor they come for refuge bruised or their bodies covered in vile pustules vile bodies unclean bodies some have been infected with the plague the roses cover their bodies the children pass the walls each day singing taunting challenging God with their innocent rhymes we work in the scriptorium with quills and brushes writing painting illuminating our fingers caress the vellum our hands decorate the words with great flourishes of colour with scarlet with gold with cerulean blue in orthodox shrines to the Madonna we repaint the frescoes the martyrs the saints the angels as a throng of women in choral ecstacy Illustrated manuscript depicting Pope Joan with the papal tiara. Bibliothèque nationale de France, c. 1560. Wikimedia Commons Notes This is one of a series of prose poems in my long sequence ‘Unstopped Mouths’. The original, published in my collection The Butterfly Effect (2005). The footnotes are intended to link to scholarship on poetry, lesbians, prehistory, spirituality and other areas because so many readers are not well-versed in these areas (I know many in Mago are). For example, I give short explanations about Beguinages, Pope Joan, winged women and other subjects. The book is available also as an ebook. See the link above. https://www.magoism.net/2013/12/meet-mago-contributor-susan-hawthone
(Prose-Poetry) Be-ing In Your Embrace by Deanne Quarrie, D.Min.

Be-ing In Your Embrace I feel your breath on my skin like the gentle wind blowing in my face as I open the window to my garden in the morning. I breathe your air, feeling it enter me. It becomes our breath, our clean, sweet air. You surround me in vibrant color with red, yellow, purple, and blue wildflowers dancing at my feet. Sweet and pungent, your scent drifts toward me, warming me, reminding me of loves I have known. Memories of passion, each embrace a sacred moment with you. Dew-fresh, I am called to gaze upon your beauty. I touch your sweet petals; they unfold, soft as velvet to my touch. I am renewed with your awakening. My own heat rises as your sunlight streams upon me. With your energy pulsing through me I am transformed. Passion stirs in me. I am at once lifted, seeking and yearning for your embrace. Feeling my heart, beating to your rhythm, I am reminded of the joy in life. Your Holy Waters bring forth life. Sweet gentle stream, I lay beside you in such pleasure. I dream of loss, renewal, and then, hope. I feel the life force of my womb, which once brought forth life. I recognize your flow in my blood, my woman’s blood, now but a memory in this crone’s body, still strong and sure. Suddenly I am in all waters, first riding the wave of the ocean, reveling in the speed of my body moving with the wave, then in a cascading waterfall, which showers me in newness. I lie on the ground and feel you, Mother. Your cool, damp soil runs through my fingers, and I feel the moistness of your body. I am grounded, held close in your embrace. The grass nestles me in softness and I am strengthened by the simplicity of your care. I am healed by your love, Mother. Seeking to pull the warmth of your golden rays to me, I reach for you in the sky and feel your heat like that of a lover, quickening my pulse, my body longing for surrender. Earth and Water, Wind and Fire, you surround me all my days. All that my eyes gaze upon is of you, within me and without. Creatrix, Mother of All Life, I thank you for this experience of Be-ing in your embrace. (Meet Mago Contributor) Deanne Quarrie.
(Video 1) Maternal Gift Economy: Breaking Through, 2020 Virtual Conference by Genevieve Vaughan

[Maternal Gift Economy: Breaking Through stands for a series of bi-weekly ongoing virtual salons. These salons are preceded by the virtual conference held on November 27, 2020.] [Words of Invitation] Drawing on Maternal Gift Economy theory, the suppressed wisdom of women, and the traditions and ethics of Indigenous societies, this integrated programme of presentations sponsored by the International Feminists for a Gift Economy Network will offer new insights, perspectives, and challenges to the underlying market-based mentality of the dominant world order. In this time of crisis and systemic upheaval, the model of the Maternal Gift Economy on which our survival depends at the beginning of life, is being revealed and celebrated. The interdependence of all living beings can now be made visible and honored. Mother Earth provides the model of an economy based on gifting that we receive as young children from our nurturers—before we are alienated into market exchange. We must make the transition from the exploitive Euro-American patriarchal/dominating and capitalistic ideology to a gift-based economy and culture grounded in the values of nurturing and care rather than competition and greed. We invite you to join us in exploring the possibilities in this series of presentations and dialogues that bring together those who have been laboring to articulate the principles of the Maternal Gift Economy, protect Indigenous values, and practice peaceful and just community building. The time is now for all humans to cooperate rather than compete. Please join us! Video Conference is featuring Darcia Narvaez, Mary Condren, Heide Goettner-Abendroth, Sherri Mitchell, Dr. Vandana Shiva, and Genevieve Vaughan and moderated by Letecia Layson. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2gEQHHHvMoM For information about speakers, see here. For more information on the Maternal Gift Economy, see here. https://www.magoism.net/2014/06/meet-mago-contributor-genevieve-vaughan/
(Essay) Education for a Girl in Bozen 1930’s by Claire French Ph.D.

A translated excerpt from the author’s book: Meine verkehrte Welt: von Bozen nach Australien Since the day of my birth my father had decided that I would remain his only child. If I had been born in this hell hole of an industrial town I must get to know his homeland and some day take over his family’s property at Bozen (Bolzano) in South Tyrol, now the Italian Provincia di Bolzano. Besides he deemed that an education in a small Bavarian township was not good enough for his daughter: he was an Italian citizen and Italian civil law followed the Latin jus sanguinis, that is the Law of the Father. This meant that I was an Italian citizen by birth and under the Fascist regime the ownership of real estate made it necessary to speak Italian. Under these circumstances it seemed to be inevitable to spend some of my school years at a boarding school in Italy. My mother was heartbroken at the thought to send me so far way and to entrust my education to Catholic nuns. But she understood that a girl needed a good schooling if she did not want to be dependent on a husband. She saw the misery of the women working in factories and of women who had been married for their dowry, and as young as I was I could see it too. “When I grow up I shall not get married.” I said to Mutti. “That won’t be necessary.” She answered. Once I had asked Grandfather if all girls had to marry. He had laughed and said that no obligation was needed, as they never could get a husband quick enough. I did not believe him. There was Fraeulein Meyer, a hunchback seamstress, who came to us periodically to sew and alter our cloths and she was not married. I asked Mutti about marriage. She said that it was a wonderful thing to have a baby, and for this a husband was necessary. But if I promised to work hard she would help me to get a decent job, like the lady who wrote the English letters for Rosenthal. Nevertheless she insisted that apart from my school work I would also have to learn everything that a good housewife must know. She would not like to hear that I did not know how to clean, cook and sew, like Mrs. B. I knew what she meant. In those years women with secondary education were called “Blue Stockings” after an English Ladies’ Club and they were the object of much ridicule. I must not become one of them. Grandfather of course was against any form of higher education for girls. He did not know what that should be good for. “Just let them learn how to scrub and clean and do the washing” and “Girls who can whistle and hens which can crow should get their necks wrung while they are young”: this was Grandfather’s slogan and he never stopped quoting it. I am sorry to say that initially Vati tended to agree. Initially he could not understand that women needed to learn anything beside cooking, knitting and sewing, not to forget how to darn socks and sew on buttons. His mother, a lady in her seventies, was still knitting woollen stockings and socks for the whole family. She did not read the Bible but the Yearly Almanac of the City of Bozen. Like all the women of her standing she went to Mass on Sunday mornings and to Rosary on Sunday afternoon. What else did a woman need for Eternal Salvation. My poor mother had been yearning all her life for a better education. In vain she had implored her father to let her learn French like her cousin Lorenz Fluegel, who had grown up at Metz in Lorraine. Now she was determined to give her daughter what had been denied to her, and for this she was prepared to make every sacrifice. Soon Vati also came to see it her way. During our yearly holyday at Bozen my parents had made enquiries about a suitable boarding school for me. But they drew a blank. At Bozen there was the “Elisabethinum” for orphan girls and at Meran there was the School of the English Ladies, also called Institute of Our Lady of Zion. The former was unsuitable for me and the latter too expensive for my father’s income. The daughters of the old Austrian aristocracy had governesses who taught them French and all the accomplishments necessary for their status. Vati had hoped that the nuns of the Franciscan Tertiary Order had a boarding school for girls. But the nuns had given up their boarding facility and divided their energies between running a hospital and a day school for girls for the first five grades. Their former boarding facility was now reserved for the novices of their Order. My parents were disappointed. Then Vati asked his sister Clara and her husband Othmar Leitner if they would take me in fosterage. Clara had no children of her own and I suspect she only agreed because she did not trust Mutti to give me a good Catholic education. She was also my godmother and I never called her Aunt Clara, but Patin (godmother) as was the local custom. Her husband, Uncle Othmar, saw the possibility of an extra income and a cheap house hold help. His villa in the Via Castel Roncolo was only a short walk from the private girls’ school of the Franciscan nuns, Scuola Santa Maria, which was frequented by the daughters of the German speaking middle class and had an excellent reputation. … In Italy the school year starts after the long summer vacation on the 1st of October and finishes on the Day of St. Peter and Paul on the 29th of June. Our neighbours at Selb were all agog when my parents took me and my copious luggage to the whistle stop station of Selb Nordbahnhof, and put …
(Poem) The Rain by Francesca Tronetti

Just wash it all away from me In the cooling rains of summer The sticky sweat from my back and hair The red flush in my face Let the rain take it all away. The crisis has passed, is passing The immediate responsibilities are done Sit still, listen to the birds The thunder rolls through the sky The breeze cools. I don’t even mind when the power goes off When I’m in darkness with the battery running down I’ve got the candles lit, the window open A tale of adventure demands candle light This is a good evening. I’m tired, you’re tired, we’re tired Let me sit and look out the window No gardening nor errands to run today And listen to the water drip and run and splash Let go all our anger, anxiety, stress. Find the center, the calming place Meditate and reflect on what has happened What we have endured, suffered, survived Put it all into a little ball, hold it in your hands And let the rain take it all away.(Meet Mago Contributor) Francesca Tronetti, Ph.D. https://www.magoism.net/2018/11/meet-mago-contributor-rev-francesca-tronetti-ph-d/

(Review) Journey into Dreamtime by Munya Andrews, reviewed by Glenys Livingstone

Although the term “Dreamtime” is often not considered an adequate translation of the cosmology, religion or spirituality of Indigenous Australians, Munya Andrews of the Bardi people from the Kimberley region of Western Australia, acknowledges this and chooses to name her recently published book with it, explaining that: “I love the term … For me, it conjures up a magical and mysterious world.”, and she feels that the term aligns perfectly with the common global religious concept that Diety is beyond words and human understanding. For me, as Munya Andrews describes “Dreamtime”, it seems resonant with the sense of “ever-present Origins”[1]; that is, original space and time that is omnipresent. This is a space/place that I understand to be referred to as “between the worlds” and “beyond the bounds of space and time”, by Indigenous Europeans (Pagans), a tradition with which I am familiar. I understand it to be a sentient world in which we are immersed actually, and which may be revealed to the observant person in synchronous moments. With practice one may live with clearer everyday connections with this world, and Munya’s book is an important contribution to making those connections from within the cosmology of her people; and for “all beautiful souls to keep the Dreamtime alive”, as she says in the book’s dedication. This book provides informative story that should be part of every Australian’s education at various levels: it lays a groundwork and also elicits deepening understandings. The teachings offered in Journey into Dreamtime should be considered essential knowledge for living on this land named Australia, whereas heretofore most present occupants have often not had easy access to such learning. This very readable and small book provides some basic facts: for example, that there are “250 or so Indigenous nations, each having their own language, their own names and ‘country’ or tribal lands.”; and that terms such as Koori, Nunga or Murri are “pan-Aboriginal” names taken on since colonisation, for the sake of asserting a distinct Indigenous identity, in the face of forced removal from families and land. In the course of the seven chapters Munya develops understanding of Dreamtime, and also understandings of Indigenous Law, Songlines, sacred sites, bush doctors/bush medicine, Rainbow Snake, and Kindredness. I found all of this really helpful, an invitation into a world of being and relationship; and it is told with frequent analogies from Western science and academic and spiritual texts, with which the reader may be more familiar, enabling the bridge into Indigenous science and worldview. There is a list of suggested readings offered, along with links and details for further connection and learning. At the conclusion of each chapter of Journey into Dreamtime there are “Dreamtime Reflections”, posing questions for personal consideration, inviting personal participation and pathways into some actual sense of an alive self in relationship with the alive world described. This book needs to be in spaces/places where everyday people can read it, like waiting rooms of all kinds (where there are frequently Bibles); as well as in every library, and especially Australian libraries. I highly recommend Journey into Dreamtime as an educational resource, for your self, for educational programs, and/or for any group that you may gather. Aunty Munya, as she names herself, has an impressive track record of speaking engagements, mentioned at the conclusion of the book, and invites you to have her speak to your organisation. She describes her life purpose as “to create better understanding and appreciation of Aboriginal people and to leave behind a legacy of Dreamtime wisdom for generations to come.” May it be so, as readers of Journey into Dreamtime absorb its teaching and resources. To order a copy of Journey into Dreamtime visit Evolve Communities NOTES: [1]“ever-present origin” is the English translation of Jean Gebser’s Ursprung und Gegenwart, Stuttgart, Deutsche Verlag, 1966.
(Special Post Isis 2) Why the Color of Isis Matters by Mago Circle Members

[Editor’s note: The discussion took place in Mago Circle during the month of July, 2013. Our heartfelt thanks go to the members who participated in this discussion with openness and courage.] Part 2 The Color Talk in Goddesses Kahena Dorothea Athena was also whitened which is sad. However the statues were worshiped by many women to whom they brought comfort. And their origins were later remembered by the abundance of Black Virgins that became important in Italy and other parts of Europe. I don’t see Dark Goddesses as shadows but as having depths of Creativity and Knowledge. My main Goddess is Kirke and the bast relief I have of her is a chocolate brown. Diane Horton The worship of Isis broadened from Egypt to all the countries bordering the Mediterranean, as well as the Middle East and the isles called now the British Isles. She and Her worship were virtually everywhere in the westernly known world of the time! She IS the Goddess of 10,000 Names! And as such she was adapted to each culture’s vision of Her. She was the basis of all the” Black Madonnas”. I do not think of this as Isis/Auset representing the “dark” Goddess as something somehow bad or to be dealt with, but rather that ancient darkness represents infinite potential, eternal creativity/fertility, the beginning and ending of all things, and the always deepening knowledge of magick. Max Dashu However, there is a politics of representation that we all need to be aware of, that pushes original African iconography down and away, and fronts Europeanized images. There is no possibility of “colorblindness” in such a system; a restoration of the original must be actively striven toward. This is incumbent on all of us not of (recent) African descent. Otherwise we perpetuate the injurious status quo, instead of overturning it. Harita Meenee I agree with those who say that race is largely a social construct. Its roots seem to lie in colonialism and the slave trade. I would also like to add that racism is used to oppress people of different nationalities and colors. Ηere in Greece the IMF neo-liberal policies are destroying our economy (and lives); they go hand in hand with a vicious racist campaign against immigrants, along with the rise of a neo-Nazi party. This is part of an effort to redirect people’s anger away from the government and bankers, towards those who are poor and foreign and often have a different color or religion. Fortunately, many grassroots activists are responding to this by building a strong anti-racist, antifascist movement. You can see our Facebook page below. It’s in Greek but the photos are quite revealing. If anyone is interested in learning more about the situation here, please message me and I’ll try to find some articles in English for you. https://www.facebook.co/19JanuaryATHENSvsFASCISM?fref=ts 19 Γεναρη – ΑΘΗΝΑ ΠΟΛΗ Αντιφασιστικη Μπροστά στη κλιμάκωση της φασιστικής απειλής και της ρατσιστικής βίας, στη εμφάν…See More Naa Ayele Kumari Let me put this in the context of something you might understand. This is a goddess group that honors the feminine and the power it represents. People in this group understand the oppression and misrepresentation of women. We understand the implications of misogynistic patriarchal thinking. We understand the implications of stealing the information, rites, and traditions from goddess centered cultures and rephrasing them into male dominated themes… especially those that then went on to oppress women today. This is the same thing that has happened as it related to race and our cultures. It infuriates us when a man may say… why do we have to focus on the goddess? Let us just accept that we are all human and no special consideration should be given to anyone because of their gender. Or, this is just a distraction or social construct and it really doesn’t matter. We understand the blatant disregard and ignorance of those statements. Yet, the same is true for race and people of other races. Your attitude and casual disregard perpetuates a lie that you are comfortable with and don’t wish to move from that comfort zone. It means you don’t have to be accountable for the injustices or oppression it continues to perpetuate in the larger culture toward people who do not look like you. As far as I am concerned, I truly believe that the dark goddess for many with white skin IS their shadow… It is the part of themselves that they deny and fear. That you may have come from black people may scare you… even when the science proves it. That deep down… you fear what you don’t understand. To even confront it is frightening… something that you would rather ignore and deny… Yet… here we are. Black, Yellow, Red… people.. women… who have been oppressed for thousands of year because of this… and are asking… to be seen in their true likeness… not as you wish them to be… or fear them to be. Naa Ayele Kumari Thank you Max Dashu, I so appreciate your scholarship and dedication to the truth where ever you find it… and Helen Hwang for staying open to it as well. [Someone withdrew the threads.] Rick Williams No, you can’t passively aggressively slither your way out of this, reread your own statements and that last post contradicts most of your ascertains. I can’t believe that you honestly say fire away at you like you’re some sort of martyr and VICTIM of being misunderstood, not at all, I understand you very well. I don’t think you understand yourSELF. That’s the real tragedy. Rick Williams “The Lips of Wisdom are Closed except to the Ears of Understanding.” It is in quotes, and it’s part of Ancient Wisdom, of Tehuti, DJehuti, or Hermes Trimegitus… The Great Scribe of KMT.. they have alot of pretty pictures of him all over KMT(Egypt).. still have no idea what you are saying have the time. Max Dashu Thank you Naa Ayele for taking the time to make the extremely apt analogy of women’s oppression to clarify the politics of race oppression […]
(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.

Summer Solstice Poiesis by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

Seasonal Wheel of Stones Both Summer and Winter Solstices may be understood as particular celebrations of the Mother/Creator aspect of the Creative Triplicity of the Cosmos (often named as the Triple Goddess). The Solstices are Gateways between the dark and the light parts of the annual cycle of our orbit around Sun; they are both sacred interchanges, celebrating deep relationship, communion, with the peaking of fullness of either dark or light, and the turning into the other. The story is that the Young One/Virgin aspect of Spring has matured and now at Summer Solstice her face changes into the Mother of Summer. Summer Solstice may be understood as a birthing place, as Winter Solstice may also be, but at this time the transiton is from light back into dark, returning to larger self, from whence we come: it is the full opening, the “Great Om”, the Omega. I represent the Summer Solstice on my altar wheel of stones with the Omega-yonic shape of the horseshoe. I take this inspiration from Barbara Walker’s description of the horseshoe in her Woman’s Encyclopaedia of Myths and Secrets, as “Goddess’s symbol of ‘Great Gate’[i]”; and her later connection of it with the Sheil-na-gig yoni display[ii]. Sri Yantra. Ref: A.T. Mann & Jane Lyle, p.75 Summer Solstice is traditonally understood as a celebration of Union between Lover and Beloved, and the deep meaning of that is essentially a Re-Union: of sensed manifest form (the Lover) with All-That-Is (the Beloved). This may be understood as a fullness of expression of this manifest form, the small selves that we are, being all that we may be, and giving of this fullness of being in every moment: that would be a blissful thing, like a Summerland as it was understood to be. The boundaries of the self are broken, they merge: all is given away – all is poured forth, the deep rich dark stream of life flows out. It is a Radiance, the shining forth of the self which is at the same time a give-away, a consuming of the self.In traditional PaGaian Summer ceremony each participant is affirmed as “Gift”[iii]; and that is understood to mean that we are both given and received – all at the same time. The breath is given and life is received. We receive the Gift with each breath in, and we are the Gift with each breath out. As we fulfill our purpose, as we give ourselves over, we dissolve, as the Sun is actually doing in every moment. The “moment of grace”[iv]that is Summer Solstice, marks the stillpoint in the height of Summer, when light reaches its peak, and Earth’s tilt causes the Sun to begin its “decline”: that is, its movement back to the South in the Northern Hemisphere (in June), and back to the North in the Southern Hemisphere (in December). Whereas at Winter Solstice when out of the darkness it is light that is “born”, as it may be expressed: at the peak of Summer, in the warmth of expansion, it is the dark that is “born”. Insofar as Winter Solstice is about birth, then Summer Solstice is about death, the passing into the harvest. It is a celebration of profound mystical significance, which may be confronting in a culture where the dark is not valued for its creative telios; and it is noteworthy that Summer Solstice has not gained any popularity of the kind that Winter Solstice has globally (as ‘Christmas’). The re-union with All-That-Is is not generally considered a jolly affair, though when understood it may actually be blissful. Full Flowers to the Flames Summer is a time when many grains ripen, deciduous trees peak in their greenery, lots of bugs and creatures are bursting with business and creativity: yet in that ripening, is the turning, the fulfilment of creativity, and it is given away. Like the Sun and the wheat and the fruit, we find the purpose of our Creativity in the releasing of it; just as our breath must be released for its purpose of life. The symbolism used to express this in ceremony has been the giving of a full rose/flower to the flames. Summer is like the rose, as it says in this tradition[v]– blossom and thorn … beautiful, fragrant, full – yet it comes with thorns that open the skin. All is given over. All is given over: the feast is for enjoying With the daily giving of ourselves in our everyday acts, we each feed the world with our lives: we do participate in creating the cosmos, as many indigenous traditions still recognise. Just as our everyday lives are built on the fabric of the work/creativity of all who went before us, so the future, as well as the present, is built on ours, no matter how humble we may think our contribution is. We may celebrate the blossoming of our creativity then, which is Creativity, and the bliss of that blossoming, at a time when Earth and Sun are pouring forth their abundance, giving it away. In this Earth-based cosmology, what is given is the self fully realized and celebrated, not a self that is abnegated – just as the fruit gives its full self: as Starhawk says, “Oneness is attained not through losing the self, but through realizing it fully”[vi]. Everyday tasks can be joyful, if valued, and graciously received: I think of Eastern European women singing as they work in the fields – it is a common practice still for many. We are the Bread of Life Summer Solstice celebrates Mother Sun coming to fullness in Her creative engagement with Earth, and we are the Sun. Solstice Moment is a celebration of communion, the feast of life – which is for the enjoying, not for the holding onto. We do desire to be received, to be consumed – it is our joy and our grief. Brian Swimme says: “Every moment of our lives disappears into the ongoing story of the Universe. Our creativity is energising the whole[vii]”. As it may be ceremoniously affirmed: we are (each is) …
(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
(Prose) Desire: the Wheel of Her Creativity by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an edited excerpt from the concluding chapter (Chapter 8) of the author’s book PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion. Place of Being is a passionate place, where desire draws forth what is sought, co-creates what is needed[1]; within a con-text – a story – where love of self, other and all-that-is are indistinguishable … they are nested within each other and so is the passion for being. I begin to understand desire afresh: this renewed understanding has been an emergent property of the religious practice of seasonal celebration: that is, the religious practice of the ceremonial celebration of Her Creativity. It has been said She is “that which is attained at the end of desire[2].” Within the context of ceremonial engagement and inner search for Her, I begin to realize how desire turns the Wheel. As the light part of the cycle waxes from Early Spring, form/life builds in desire. At Beltaine/High Spring, desire runs wild, at Summer Solstice, it peaks into creative fullness, union … and breaks open at that interchange into the dark part of the cycle – the dissolution of Lammas/ Late Summer. She becomes the Dark One, who receives us back – the end of desire. It has been a popular notion in the Christian West, that the beautiful virgin lures men (sic) to their destruction, and as I perceive the Wheel, it is indeed Virgin who moves in Her wild delight towards entropy/dissolution; however in a cosmology that is in relationship with the dark, this is not perceived as a negative thing. Also, in this cosmology, there is the balancing factor of the Crone’s movement towards new life, in the conceiving dark space of Samhain/Deep Autumn – a dynamic and story that has not been a popular notion in recent millennia. Desire seems not so much a grasping, as a receiving, an ability or capacity to open and dissolve. I think of an image of an open bowl as a signifier of the Virgin’s gift. The increasing light is received, and causes the opening, which will become a dispersal of form – entropy, if you like: this is Beltaine/High Spring – the Desire[3]that is celebrated is a movement towards dis-solution … that is its direction. In contrast, and in balance, Samhain/Deep Autumn celebrates re-solution, which is a movement towards form – it is a materializing gathering into form, as the increasing darkness is received. It seems it is darkness that creates form, as it gathers into itself – as many ancient stories say, and it is light that creates dispersal. And yet I see that the opposite is true also. I think of how there is desire for this work that I have done, for whatever one does – it is then already being received. Desire is receiving. What if I wrote this, and it was not received or welcomed in some way. But the desire for it is already there, and perhaps the desire made it manifest. Perhaps the desire draws forth manifestation, even at Winter Solstice, even at Imbolc/Early Spring, as we head towards Beltaine – it is desire that is drawing that forth, drawing that process around. Desire is already receiving; it is open. Its receptivity draws forth the manifestation. And then the manifestation climaxes at Summer and dissolves into the manifesting, which is perhaps where the desire is coming from – the desire is in the darkness, in the dark’s receptivity[4]. It becomes very active at the time of Beltaine, it lures the differentiated beings back into Her. So the lure at Beltaine is the luring of differentiated beings into a Holy Lust, into a froth and dance of life, whereupon they dissolve ecstatically back into Her – She is “that which is attained at the end of Desire.” And in the dissolution, we sink deeper into that, and begin again. All the time, it is Desire that is luring the manifest into the manifesting, and the manifesting into the manifest. Passion is the glue, the underlying dynamic that streams through it all – through the light and the dark, through the creative triplicities of Virgin-Mother-Crone, of Differentiation-Communion-Autopoeisis[5]. Passion/Desire then is worthy of much more contemplation. If desire/allurement is the same cosmic dynamic as gravity, as cosmologist Brian Swimme suggests[6], then desire like gravity is the dynamic that links/holds us to our Place, to “that which is”, as philosopher Linda Holler describes the effect of gravity[7]. Held in relationship by desire/allurement we lose abstraction and artificial boundaries, and “become embodied and grow heavy with the weight of the earth[8].” We then know that “being is being-in relation-to”[9]. Holler says that when we think with the weight of Earth, space becomes “thick” as this “relational presence … turns notes into melodies, words into phrases with meaning, and space into vital forms with color and content, (and) also holds the knower in the world[10].”Thus, I at last become a particular, a subject, a felt being in the world – a Place laden with content, sentient: continuous with other and all-that-is. Notes: [1]“…as surely as the chlorophyll molecule was co-created by Earth and Sun, as Earth reached for nourishment; as surely as the ear was co-created by subject and sound, as the subject reached for an unknown signal.” As I have written in PaGaian Cosmology, p. 248. [2]Doreen Valiente, The Charge of the Goddessas referred to in Starhawk, The Spiral Dance, p.102-103. [3]I capitalize here, for it is a holy quality. [4]Perhaps the popular cultural association of the darkness/black lingerie etc. with erotica is an expression/”memory” of this deep truth. [5]These are the three qualities of Cosmogenesis, as referred to in PaGaian Cosmology, Chapter 4, “Cosmogenesis and the Female Metaphor”: https://pagaian.org/book/chapter-4/ [6]Brian Swimme, The Universe is a Green Dragon, p.43. [7]Linda Holler, “Thinking with the Weight of the Earth: Feminist Contributions to an Epistemology of Concreteness”, Hypatia, Vol. 5 No. 1, p.2. [8]Linda Holler, “Thinking with the Weight of the Earth: Feminist Contributions to an Epistemology of Concreteness”,Hypatia, Vol. …
The Ceremonial Creative Cosmos by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

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

This essay is an edited excerpt from the conclusion of chapter 5 of the author’s book, PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion. It is a chapter on the process of the Wheel of the Year. for the Northern Hemisphere version: https://pagaian.org/pagaian-wheel-of-the-year/ It seems to me that the main agenda of the Cosmos is ongoing Creativity, “never-ending renewal” it may be termed, and that this is expressed in Earth’s Seasonal Wheel through the transitions of Autumn,Winter, Spring, Summer; and in the ubiquitous process of a Cosmic Triplicity of Space to Be, Urge to Be and this Place of Being, a dynamic that has often been imagined as the Triple Goddess. In the flow of the PaGaian Wheel of the Year, the Seasonal transitions of the Wheel and the Triplicity of the Cosmos come together. There are two celebrations of the Old One/Crone or the Cosmogenetic quality of autopoiesis creating the Space to Be; and they are Lammas/Late Summer and Samhain/Deep Autumn, which are the meridian points of the two quarters of the waxing dark phase. At Lammas, the first in the dark phase, we may identify with the dark and ancient Wise One – dissolve into Her; at Samhain, we may consciously participate in Her process of the transformation of death/the passing of all. The whole dark part of the cycle is about dissolving/dying/letting go of being – becoming – nurturing it (the midwifing of Lammas/Late Summer), stepping into the power of it (the certain departure of Autumn Equinox/Mabon), the fertility (of Samhain/Deep Autumn), the peaking of it (at Winter Solstice). The meridian points of the two quarters of the waxing light phase then are celebrations of the Young One/Virgin or the Cosmogenetic quality of differentiation, the new continually emerging, the Urge to Be; and they are Imbolc/Early Spring and Beltaine/High Spring. At Imbolc, the first in the light phase, we may identify with She who is shining and new – as we take her form; at Beltaine, we may consciously participate in Her process of the dance of life. The whole light part of the cycle is about coming into being: nurturing it (the midwifing of Imbolc/Early Spring), stepping into the power of it (the certain return of Spring Equinox/Eostar), the fertility (of Beltaine/High Spring), the peaking of it (at Summer Solstice). In the PaGaian wheel of ceremony there are two particular celebrations of the Mother, the Cosmogenetic quality of communion; and they are the Solstices. If one imagines the light part of the cycle as a celebration of the ‘Productions of Time’, and the dark part of the cycle as a celebration of ‘Eternity’, the Solstices then are meeting points, points of interchange, and are celebrations of the communion/relational field of Eternity with the Productions of Time. This is a relationship which does happen in this Place, in this Web. This Place of Being, this Web, is a Communion – it is the Mother; the Solstices mark Her birthings, Her gateways. The Equinoxes then – both Spring and Autumn – are two celebrations wherein the balance of all three Faces/Creative qualities is particularly present: in the PaGaian wheel, the Equinoxes have been special celebrations of Demeter and Persephone – echoing the ancient tradition of Mother-Daughter Mysteries that celebrate the awesomeness of the continuity of life, its creative tension/balance. Both Equinoxes then are celebrations and contemplations of empowerment through deep Wisdom – one contemplation during the dark phase and one during the light phase. The Autumn Equinox is a descent to Wisdom, the Spring Equinox is an emergence with Wisdom gained. I like to think of the Equinoxes, and of the ancient icons of Demeter and Persephone, as celebrations of the delicate ‘curvature of space-time’, the fertile balance of tensions which enables it all. Her Creative Place The Mother aspect then may be understood to be particularly present at four of the Seasonal Moments, which are also regarded traditionally as the Solar festivals; and in this cosmology Sun is felt as Mother. I recognize these four as points of interchange: at Autumn Equinox, Mother is present primarily as Giver – She is letting Persephone go, at Spring Equinox, She is present primarily as Receiver – welcoming the Daughter back, at Winter Solstice the Mother gives birth, creates form, at Summer Solstice, She opens again full of radiance, and disperses form. The Mother is Agent/Actor at the Solstices. She is Participant/Witness at the Equinoxes, where it is then really Persephone who is Agent/Actor, embodying an inseparable Young One and Old One. The Old One is often named as Hecate, who completes the Trio – all seamlessly within each other. Another possible way to visual it, or to tell the story, is this: The Mother – Demeter – is always there, at the Centre if you like. Persephone cycles around. She is the Daughter who returns in the Spring as flower, who will become fruit/grain of the Summer, who at Lammas assents to the dissolution – the consumption. At Autumn Equinox She returns to the underworld as seed – Her harvest is rejoiced in, Her loss is grieved, as She becomes Sovereign of the Underworld – Her face changes to the Dark One, Crone (Hecate). As the wheel turns into the light part of the cycle She becomes Young One/Virgin again. Persephone (as Seed) is that part of Demeter that can be all three aspects – can move through the complete cycle. The Mother and Daughter are really One, and embody the immortal process of creation and destruction. Demeter hands Persephone the wheat, the Mystery, and the thread of life is unbroken – it goes on forever. It is immortal, it is eternal. Even though it is true that all will be lost, and all is lost – Being always arises again: within this field of time there is never-ending renewal, eternity. This is what is revealed in the ubiquitous three faces of the Creative Dynamic/ She of Old, the Triplicity that runs through the Cosmos. The Seed of Life never …
(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 …

(Photo Essay 4) ‘Gaeyang Halmi, the Sea Goddess of Korea’ by Helen Hwang

Part IV: Revival of the Gurang (Nine Maidens) Gaeyang Halmi There is more to reveal. As I write this part of the photo essay, I have encountered new information, previously made available online by individuals and organizations. It is reported that the “Suseong-dang” (水聖堂, Sea Saint Shrine) was once called the “Gurang-sa” (九娘祠, Nine Maidens Shine), of which I never heard before.[i] That Suseong-dang is a fake name blew my mind! Note the difference of gender between “the Nine Maidens Shrine” and “the Sea Saint Shrine”! The female-connoted term was stolen just like that! “Gurang-sa,” a female-referenced term as the character “rang” means a maiden, had to go due to its overt female representation. It is not without grounds that I was taken aback to see its present logography, “the Sea Saint Shrine,” on the information board.[ii] I almost heard a voice warning me, “This is not the place that you think it is!” That voice attempted to force me to leave the place without further investigation. However, I intuitively took a mental note, “Something is not correct here.” And I was right! Its name change sheds a consistent light on the meddling of patriarchal distortion/deception done to the tradition of Gaeyang Halmi. Readers are reminded of the lost painting of Gaeyang Halmi, which was replaced by that of the Sea God explicated in Part 2 of this photo essay (also Part 3). Like “the Sea God,” “the Suseong-dang” constitutes no reality. It is not only a conceptual deception but also a theft of the intangible cultural heritage, righteously committed by faceless patriarchal men disappeared into the lapse of time. It is clear that systematic erasure of the Female/Goddess has been in operation. Female power embodied whether in the name of the shrine or in the iconography was stripped away. However, it is proven once again that the Female is immortal because it constitutes the root of patriarchy. People smuggled the forbidden knowledge of the Female to later generations through oral stories. Thus, we find the folklore of the Female subversive.
(Mago Pilgrimage 3) Seonam-sa (Seonam Temple), Suncheon, South Jeolla Korea by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

Seonsam-sa, located in Suncheon City, South Jeolla Province, is one of many ancient Buddhist temples in Korea. It is among the seven Korean Buddhist temples designated as UNESCO World Cultural Heritage Sites this year. I visited Seonam-sa during the Mago Pilgrimage to Korea in 2014. The name, Seonsam-sa (仙巖寺 Seonam Temple), drew my attention immediately for the first two characters “seon (read sun)” and “am (read ahm)” of its title convey Magoism. It remains esoteric that Seon-am (仙巖 Precipice of Seon) is an alternative of Mago-am (Precipice of Mago) also known as Nogo-am (Precipice of Nogo). “Nogo” (老姑 Primordial Goddess) is a popular epithet, which is often interchangeably used with “Mago” in place-names and folktales. That said, the character “seon or xian (仙)” refers to Magoists rather than Daoist Immortals, a topic that requires another space to explicate. Fork traditions have preserved its Magoist meaning (Mago or Magoist) in place-names and stories. One prominent exmaple is “Mago Seonnyeo” to convey a Maogist Female Seon. Below I use it as Seon without transliteration. It is rarely recognized by the public that Seonam-sa is imbued with Magoist mytho-historical-cultural memories. This is not to say that Korean Buddhist temples are as a whole independent of Magoism. I have discussed, among others, that the main hall (Daeung-jeon) of many Korean Buddhist temples is dedicated to Goma, the Magoist shaman queen founder of Danguk (3898-2333 BCE), also known as Daeung (Great Hero), as follows: Korean Buddhism is characterized by its idiosyncratic feature of Daeung-jeon (Hall of the Great Hero), its main building, in most Buddhist temples. That Goma is enshrined in Daeung-jeon accounts for the Magoist root of Korean Buddhism.[1] Seonsam-sa has some intriguing unorthodox Buddhist characters. While its foundation is debated to be in the mid 6th century by Ado Hwasang in 592 or the second half of the 9th century by Monk Doseon (827-898), we have stories about Monk Doseon , the alleged founder. Monk Doseon, according to the story, had a revelation from the Heavenly Ruler of the Holy Mother (聖母天王) of Mt. Jiri who told him “If you establish three Amsas (Precipice Temples), Three Hans will unite and there will be no wars.” Doseon founded the three precipice temples known as Seonam (Seon Precipice), Unam (Cloud Precipice), and Yongam (Drago Precipice).[2] Three Hans (Samhan) refers to the descendants of Old Joseon (ca. 2333-232 BCE), the Magoist people of ancient Korean states including Goguryeo, Baekje, Silla, Gaya and their remnants who sought to restore the bygone rule of Magoist confederacies.[3] In short, the foundation story of Seonamsa reflects the mytho-history of Magoism. Also intriguing is the fact that Seonam-sa has Seungseon-gyo (Bridge of the Ascended Seon) and Gangseon-ru (Pavilion of the Descended Seon), which are evocative of such Magoist place-names as Mangsoen-gyo (Bridge of Anticipated Seon) and Biseon-dae (Point of Ascending Seon), to name a few. In addition, Seonam-sa is, among numerous halls and shrines, noted for Sansin-gak (Mountain Deity Pavilion) and Samseong-gak (Three Sages Pavilion), the indigenous faith practices that are incorporated in a Buddhist temple. We were enrolled in Seonam-sa’s Temple Stay. Later I detected that the monk who guided us was unenthused about our interests in indigenous elements of Seonam-sa. Out of honesty, he mentioned that Seonam-sa needed to purge itself of indigenous shrines. It was sad to hear that but I could see where he was coming from. It appeared that monks were not all in agreement with him, however. Our visit to Seonsam-sa seemed to end with a somewhat uneasy stroll with the monk. Lo and behold! As we were about to leave the temple, we ran into a female Buddhist novice who took interest in our queries. Together with her, we hurriedly payed visit to Sansin-gak and a couple of indigenous shines located in the backside of the main sectors. While on a brief leisurely stroll with our new guide, she finally led us to an unlikely place, the unseen heart of Seanam-sa by the public. She showed us the place wherein monks gather to begin Dong-angeo (Winter Retreat), an annual three-month-long winter medication practice. Inside this ordinary-looking Korean traditional house was a traditional style kitchen stove. Above the big iron cast cooking pot was hung a tablet that reads “Nammu Jowangsinwi,” which means “Take refuge in Jowang Deity who is present here.” Faith in Jowang Deity was still alive among Buddhist monks!!! Jowang-sin or Jowang Halmi, the Kitchen Goddess or the Hearth Goddess, is one of the many indigenous Goddesses of Korea. It is known today that she was enshrined in the kitchen and widely venerated by women in the past. Today, She is still worshipped in Muism (Korean Shamanism) as the deity of fire, children, and wealth of the household. (Meet Mago Contributor) Helen Hye-Sook Hwang. Notes [1] Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, “Goma, the Shaman Ruler of Old Magoist East Asia/Korea, and Her Mythology” in Goddesses in Myth, History and Culture (Lytle Creek, CA: Mago Books), 293. [2] Sanghyeon Kim, “Suncheon Seonam-sa,” in Hanguk Daebaekgwa Sajeon (Encyclopedia of Korean Culture). http://encykorea.aks.ac.kr/Contents/Item/E0028783/. August 12, 2018. [3] Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, “Mago, the Creatrix from East Asia, and the Mytho-History of Magoism” in Goddesses in Myth, History and Culture (Lytle Creek, CA: Mago Books), 29-34.
(Pilgrimage Essay 1) Report of First Mago Pilgrimage to Korea by Helen Hwang

[Author’s note: First Mago Pilgrimage to Korea took place in June 6-19, 2013. We visited Ganghwa Island, Seoul, Wonju, Mt. Jiri, Yeong Island (Busan), and Jeju Island.] Part 1 Magoist Alchemy and Consanguinity of All Peoples My study of Mago, the Great Goddess of East Asia, has hurled me into uncharted territory. (In fact, my life hurled me onto a labyrinthine path.) Mago is not a mere subject of my study. Or, study is not a mere brain activity for me. Mago has been the answer to my intellectual/spiritual quests. And I am to carve out my own destiny. Studying Magoism has become a way of life to me. Magoism is the term that I coined to name the mytho-historical-cultural context in which Mago is venerated. Assessing a large body of source materials that I documented, I learned that Magoism is one of the most comprehensive contexts that can explain East Asian civilizations as a whole. It feels right that reconstructing Magoism, the method that I employed in studying Mago, is the reason why I study Mago. Ever since I began to contemplate the topic of Mago for study in 2000, I have visited Korea, my native land, almost annually and undertook such activities as documentation, presentation, trips, and field research for the purpose of measuring the landscape of Magoism. In enacting those projects, I have worked with a variety of groups and individuals including feminists, scholars, friends, and the general public. For the last three years, I have organized various sizes of pilgrimages to near and far places with Koreans. Those experiences have gradually led me to the unfolding mystery of Magoist spiritual/intellectual reality. That said, it was my honor and privilege to organize and lead the very first intercontinental Mago Pilgrimage to Korea from June 6 to June 19 in 2013. This pilgrimage made a memorable landmark in Magoism. About a decade ago, Mago was hardly known among goddess people in the West. And the situation was not so far different from that in Korea. At that time, I was writing my Ph.D. dissertation on Mago from a multi-disciplinary perspective, not knowing what was forthcoming. The Mago Pilgrimage envisioned the remarkable change!

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