Inanna

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(Poetry) A Cactus Made of Rainbows by Sara Wright

Photo by Sara Wright Raspberry spines prick my skin but do not harm me as I gently dislodge you from stones and soil, praying out loud for permission. You thrive here as the Bears do under tall red pines and lichened boulders. Aspens, Spruce, Juniper all murmur love songs on Changing Woman’s mountain. Is that why they call you a Rainbow cactus? Were you there when She was born under soft deerskin pulsing with a whole spectrum of Light? Did the Bears watch you From swaying tree tops offer generous blessings for the gift of your life? I step so carefully, so as not to crush your little village thriving under my feet. I gather you as a small family, believing you need to grow together to thrive. Your roots are shallow hugging jagged rocks at odd angles. I feel amazement – Such tenacity. I note your need for protection from merciless west wind and sun. Yet you thrive with so little – a blessing from the Cloud People and you burst miniscule roses from thorny skin. I imagine a waxing frog moon overflowing with pride. I found a bear paw not far from where you lay – White flint worked by those who once tread lightly on sacred ground, soul heart and body bound to each rock and tree. (Bears still leave their marks on smooth white aspen bark). The People spoke in tongues most can no longer hear. Oh, my grateful heart sings praises for this precious body that vibrates ancient strumming sound… Your collective Voices vie for my attention as I move effortlessly through the veil, bowing my head to acknowledge your Bountiful Grace. Time gathers herself around me False lines and boundaries disappear. I am so easily comforted by Now. If only I could stay here… When I wend my way down the mountain with a prickly clump of your people, I am filled with Light. Perhaps Changing Woman was right – Her children’s father was a round rainbow cactus after all. Working notes Yesterday I visited the mountain that once called me to this place, although I couldn’t name her then… three years later I am drawn back again and again to this Mesa forged in Light to gather stones made of the flint that was traded throughout the Americas by the pre – Puebloan peoples. The Powers of Place embrace me again and again as I climb, hearing voices, and I am filled with wonder… In Navajo mythology Changing Woman – she who grows old and young again but never dies – was born under a rainbow of light created by a myriad of colors – orange, gold, gray smoke, ebony, pink and burnt orange – of the stone called chert that is found in a single band that stretches around this mountain. This flint was worked into tools that were traded throughout the continent… Changing Woman (parthogentically) birthed two boys who left her. When they asked about who their father was she retorted that maybe he was a round cactus! (a tongue and cheek response?) Their grandmother later told them their father was the sun but my guess is that their real father was a prickly round rainbow cactus that grows close to the ground on the slopes of Changing Woman’s beloved mountain, the mountain where she was born. This “marriage” was one woven from Light, tenderness, thorns, and tenacity. (Meet Mago Contributor) Sara Wright.
Meet Mago Contributor, Kathy Martone

Dr. Kathy Martone is a published author and Jungian Psychologist in private practice since 1986. She has served as company psychologist for Southwestern Bell Telephone and has taught classes at Colorado Free University, the Jungian Ministries International, Naropa University, and Iliff School of Theology. For the past 25 years she has studied with Richmond K. Greene, past chair of the New York Jungian Institute. She also spent 10 years in training with Dr. Jean Houston. Specializing in depth work designed to call forth The Healer Within, she offers dream groups, women’s spirituality retreats, and shamanic journeys. In 2005, inspired by a dream, she began crafting velvet tapestries based on her own dream images and embellished with beads, ribbons, rhinestones, etc.
(Poem) The Snot-Nosed Goddess: Tlazolteotl by Robin Scofield

refuses to be refused or refuse while her rubber mouth sews words like dunderhead, and dung beetles center daily meditations in dead leaves, industry for nothing, black munchers firing up decay in the sun’s macrowave, slipping the new moon out of an old skin.
[Short Story] A Story for Spring by Kaalii Cargill

It is Spring here in the Southern Hemisphere, the flowering season of the wheel of the year. In my house hangs a print of Flora, a Roman Goddess of Spring, found in the ancient city of Stabiae. She could represent any of the Goddesses of renewal – Artio (Swiss) Beiwen (Finnish) Blodewedd (Celtic) Brigit (Celtic) Dziewanna (Eastern European) Hare Ke (West African) Hebe (Greek) Ostara(Celtic) Kono-Hana-Sakuya-Hime (Japanese) Kostroma (Russian) Kore/Persephone/Prosperpina (Greek) Lada (Eastern European Maia (Greek) Olwen (Celtic) Prosepina (Roman) Rafu-Sen (Japanese) Sita (Hindu) – and others. Flora, fresco from Villa Arianna, Stabiae, 1st Century CE. Naples Archaeological Museum. In Nordic mythology, Idunn is a Goddess of Spring. Here is a story about Idunn and her life-giving power – an excerpt from my novel (with Kellianna Girouard) Tapestry of Dark and Light, Book One of The Warrior Queen Chronicles. Loki tricked Idunn into leaving Asgard and going into the forest with him. He told her that he had found apples that she would find to be of great worth and asked her to bring along her apples so that she might compare them . . . Skáldskaparmál: 1 Idunn walked softly through the wildwood, gathering berries from the bushes and trees growing beside the stream. She filled her basket with cranberries, blackberries, raspberries, lingonberries, blueberries, and strawberries, a feast for the Gods and Goddesses of Asgard. The sun moved past the mid-point of the sky, and Idunn sat for a while with her feet in the deliciously cold water. Birds flew down from the trees to rest near her, and from the forest strutted an elk, crowned with six-tined antlers. Idunn offered the elk a palm full of lingonberries and threw blackberries to the birds. Her allotted task was to feed the Gods and Goddesses, but what were the birds and animals if not Gods of the forest? Idunn left the stream and walked slowly back to Asgard, singing the spells that filled the berries with the spirit of Nature, the life force that kept the Gods and Goddesses young and strong. She had learned the spells from her mother, who had them from her mother, words of power passed down from mother to daughter since the beginning. Idunn’s long hair coiled around her body like golden snakes as she sang, and flowers bloomed where her feet touched the ground. So it had been since the dawn of Time, and so it might have continued except for the heedless greed and anger of three Gods. # Óðin, Loki, and Hoenir had left Asgard and traveled far in search of adventure and riches. Their journey took them into a barren mountain range where Iduna had never walked. “My life force is weakening,” said Óðin. “We must return to Idunn and her life-giving berries.” “Just a little further,” said Hoenir. “I want more to show for our travels.” His bag already bulged with gold and precious gems, but Hoenir always lusted for the next treasure. “We can slaughter an ox for our next meal,” said Loki, who never troubled with matters of property or ownership of herds. Óðin let it be, so they killed an ox, prepared the meat for cooking, and sat around the fire waiting to eat. Strangely the meat did not crisp and sizzle; no succulent smells arose from the fire. “It must be spelled,” said Hoenir, looking around warily. “It is I who, by my magic, prevent your meat from cooking!” They looked up. Perched in the tree was a huge eagle. Óðin muttered something about Loki and his thieving ways. “Give me my fill of your meat, and I shall release the rest for you,” said the eagle. Loki objected, but Óðin invited the eagle to eat his fill. The great bird glided down and took the choicest parts of the ox with his sharp talons and fierce beak. “That is enough!” cried Loki. “All the best meat is gone!” He grabbed a fallen branch and lunged at the eagle. The eagle moved faster than light and took the branch in its talons, carrying Loki into the sky. Loki screamed and cursed, but the eagle spiraled higher and higher. Loki threatened and begged, and finally the eagle offered Loki a choice. “Bring me the life-giving service of Idunn, or I will carry you to my children who will strip the flesh from your bones.” Loki agreed. The three travelers returned to Asgard, inventing glorious songs and stories about their journey. The longest story was about Loki’s encounter with the eagle and his escape, but only he knew the bargain he had made with the creature; only he knew that the eagle was the giant Thjazi in his bird form. When the travelers had been welcomed home, all the songs sung, the stories told, and the mead drunk, Loki crept away to the wildwood to find Idunn. He knew the way to her bower; her mother’s mothers had always welcomed him, feeding him the ripest berries, the sweetest nuts, the most succulent fruits. “Ah, Loki, you are returned safely. I dreamt of a giant who carried you away. I am glad to see you well.” Idunn smiled, and the World grew brighter. Loki ate some berries and spoke of his travels, offering to show Idunn a place he had found where cloudberries grew all year round. They left Asgard the next day, Idunn carrying her basket to fetch cloudberries for the Gods and Goddesses. They journeyed for three days and came to a barren mountain range. “Where is this place?” Idunn asked, but Loki had disappeared. A rush of wings, and Idunn was snatched up in Thjazi’s talons and carried to the giant’s lair; Thrymheim, he called it – Thunder Home – for the sound of the wind in the mountain peaks and the pounding avalanches that covered the World below with snow. “Feed me the elixir of Life,” demanded Thjazi. Iduna offered Thjazi berries from her basket, but he flung them away. “I can gather berries myself,” he growled. “I want the magic you give the Gods! I want to live forever!” Idunn …
(Call for Contributions) E-Interviews that Build Bridges

Enjoy the conversation with your interviewee by writing about your favorite topic for the world! RTM (Return to Mago) E-Magazine encourages you to e-interview your hera/hero, colleague, or friend. Tell the world what you seek, value, and appreciate by forging an e-interview with the person whom you want to reach out to. Topics are open insofar as it enhances feminist/matricentric/matriversal spirituality and activism. For inquiries, email Dr. Helen Hwang, the primary editor (ninemagos@gmail.com). Your interviewee can be your family member (mother, daughter, father, son, sister, brother, etc.), favorite colleague, teacher, author, artist, or influencer. One possible method is to email that person to ask if she or he would be interested in answering your questions or discussing some topics with you. Choose and provide her or him with some initial questions or topics of mutual importance. Interact with your interviewee to shape your essay. The recording of a Zoom meeting may be used as part of the interview (Mago Academy is pleased to set up your meeting upon request). In the essay for RTM, add a paragraph about your interview as an introduction. Length is open (you can make it as sequels, if long). Apart from the E-Interview, RTM welcomes essays, prose, poetry, art, reports, and creative genres. https://www.magoism.net/people/call-for-contribution See previous E-Interviews below: https://www.magoism.net/2023/09/e-interview-susan-hawthorne-and-renate-klein-by-helen-hye-sook-hwang https://www.magoism.net/2023/10/e-interview-heide-goettner-abendroth-by-helen-hye-sook-hwang https://www.magoism.net/2023/12/e-interview-kaarina-kailo-by-helen-hye-sook-hwang
[Novel excerpt] A Voice Older Than Time by Kaalii Cargill

Sometimes amidst the strife and troubles of the world, we may find our way through by stepping away from the world. This excerpt is from my novel Daughters of Time – https://kaalii.wixsite.com/soulstory Vittorio Zecchin – The Thousand and One Nights, 1914. “What is this place?” asked Lili. “You will see,” said Old Lil, turning to lead her up a goat track. Paula followed, heart racing, legs itching to move faster, desperate fear for Mary burning in her chest Old Lil stopped in front of a large, flat rockface. She pointed to a low cleft in the rock and indicated that they should enter. Lili squatted to peer into the entrance. With a shrug, she dropped to her hands and knees and crawled into the darkness. Paula hesitated. Were there bats? Spiders? A strange smell tickled her throat, like aniseed and lavender together. She dropped to her hands and knees and crawled after Lili. The cleft opened into a larger space. Lili stood, hands outstretched to feel the walls. “I come here to hear Her voice,” said Old Lil from behind. “This room is very old.” “Is there a way out?” asked Paula. Old Lil lit a candle. They stood in the centre of a circular room with a low ceiling of stone. Old Lil used the candle to light more candles set on platforms at four points around the room. “The way out is through,” said Old Lil, holding the flame to a bowl of charcoal and blowing until the charcoal glowed red. Smoke rose in spirals, filling the room with musky incense. She pointed to a trickle of water running down the rock face. Lili scooped water into the palm of her hand and drank. When she was done she wiped her wet hands on her face, leaving streaks like warpaint. Paula paced the small room. The cleft through which they had entered had disappeared into the shadows. “Your daughter needs you to walk the path of Inanna,” said Old Lil. “Descend and return, and she will return with you.” Lili put a hand on Paula’s arm and pointed to one of the platforms. Suspended above it, a white carving of a bird hovered in the candlelight as if alive. “Celestial dove,” said Old Lil, her voice loud in the subterranean silence. “She bestows radiant love. We call on Her for laughter, lust, and inspiration.” Lili crossed to the dove and knelt on the hard-packed earth. “Come, Paula. It is the old story, descent and return. It is the way through.” Paula looked around the walls once more and knelt beside Lili. Despite her fears, peace filled her body, and warmth settled in her bones. “She lifts us on Her golden wings.” Old Lil’s voice rose as she lifted her arms above her head, backs of her hands meeting like wings. Lili lifted her arms and took on the pose of the dove. She seemed to be glowing. Paula mirrored the movements, the life of the dove filling her arms. Then Old Lil pointed to the next altar. A statue of a lioness watched them with topaz eyes. “Lioness of battle,” said Old Lil, her voice deep. Paula trembled. Lili whispered. “There are tales from Sumer of the great mother lions roaring to stop the hearts of goats, to take the breath from gazelle and antelope.” Old Lil nodded. “She brings strength invincible. Mighty warrior, fierce defender, She is the protector of women and children.” She raised her hands to her shoulders, elbows held close to her sides. Her fingers curled outwards, forming the shape of lion’s claws, tensed, ready to fight. Lili stood to one side, hands raised in the pose of the lioness. Paula took on the posture and moved closer to the altar. The great beast blinked. Paula gasped. Had she imagined it? Had the incense clouded her mind? Lili tapped her gently on the shoulder and led her to the next altar while the lioness watched. Something moved in the shadows. Snakes! They writhed like a living painting with soft-patterned scales, glittering mosaic eyes, tongues darting in and out. “The West is home to the sacred serpent who holds the ancient wisdom. Sibyl, soothsayer and seer, She speaks Her truth that we may hear.” The words slid into Paula’s ears, into her senses. Old Lil raised her hands before her forehead and moved them down and up in front of her body, palms crossing in the undulating movements of the snakes. Lili’s hands moved in time with hers. Paula let the movements take her. When stillness returned, Old Lil lifted two of the smaller snakes. Raising her hands slowly, Paula reached for the snake . . . . . . and murmured with surprise at the velvet-smooth warmth of the creature. The snake’s tongue darted in and out as it swayed closer and closer. “She’s beautiful,” Paula whispered, holding it to her face. The snake’s skin slid softly against her cheek, and its tongue probed gently on her eyelids. Old Lil placed the snake back on the altar, and Paula walked with Lili to the last altar. In beaten copper, mounted on a base of lapis lazuli, rested the curved horns of the crescent Moon. The moon had sailed over the horizon just like that in Amman; no wonder the ancients thought of it as a boat sailing the heavens. “The Horned One,” said Old Lil. “She brings blessed fruitfulness, the life-giving power of the womb, of women, of the Earth. Her arms are always open, from Her breasts abundance flowing.” Paula knelt by Lili’s side at the altar to receive the blessings of the Queen of Earth, the Mother of all. She followed Old Lil’s movements, extending her arms out to the side, bending her elbows and opening her hands so that her palms faced up to the heavens. The sign of the Cow-eyed One felt natural, as if her arms knew what to do. They walked again to the centre. The symbol …
La Boca, a Travel Poem and Photos by Susan Hawthorne

In 2016, I travelled to Argentina and Chile to do research for my novel Dark Matters. One of the great things about travel is being immersed in a different environment. This one is part of Buenos Aires. The colours of the footpaths, the buildings and the decorated cows made me smile (the cow in the poem is the character Queenie from my book Cow). A simple joy, one we all need. coloured footpaths welcome our feetto these old streets vividly painted they say its a camanita of lost lovesthe corrugated iron wallsin bright colours will cheer youalong with the tango dancerscalling up memories as you eat after lunch I stroll into an arte studioand who do I meet but Queeniewho has taken off time from the exhibitionto hang cool with the residents of La Boca they want me to teach yoga she saysthe latest fashion to watch us animalsafter whom most of the moves are named sit comfortably bend your left leg underyour buttocks your right leg over yourleft knee clasp the fingers of both handsbehind your back and sit in good postureif you do it well you’ll look just like me my feet take me back down the streetsof lost loves bright minds and new yoga © Texts and photos, Susan Hawthorne 2016. https://www.magoism.net/2013/12/meet-mago-contributor-susan-hawthone/ (Meet Mago Contributor) Susan Hawthorne
(Art & Prose) Bloodmoon Blessing – a prayer, picture and poem by Lucy Pierce

Art by Lucy Pierce May the wombs of all daughters be blessed, as eggs in the ovaries of their mothers, inside the wombs of their grandmothers, blessed at their conception and blessed at their birth. May the wombs of all maidens be blessed at their menarche. May the wombs of all women be blessed always at the alter of their loving, through the cycles of their blood, in their terminations and their miscarriages and at the birthing of their babes. May the womb of woman be blessed through all the years of her blood tide and beyond, in her menopause and through all the years of her wisdom giving and also blessed at her death, for all she has dreamed and birthed into being for the all. May all wombs be known as sacred. Daughter of the mysterywhen your time comesand your moon blood flowsmay you know what it is that you have become.May there be fragrant blossoms and loving handsand tender care to escort youthrough the threshold.May there be tears of grief and praise,for what has been lost and what has become,for death and rebirthfor joy and longing.May your blood be claimed as the powerful medicine it is,the reciprocal conduit of your sovereign relationship to the Mother Earth beneath your feetand also now within your womb,birthing your sensitive interfacewith her magnificencewith each cycle of the moon.You are blooming and rising to becomethe living embodiment of life’s co-creative capacity,with it the great gift and the responsibilityfor what is born of our endeavouring to know and to lovethe beingness of our bodies,the longing of our heartsthe knowings of our souls,returning the nourishing harvest of our wombs,the potent gift of our bloodto the earth who sustains us.May we, the world that holds you be fierce and uncompromising in our advocacy of you,in our celebration of your exquisite becoming.May you know yourself to be as the moonand as the cycling tides,embedded in the vast serenade of creation,your body marking the rythmns of the universe within the intimacy of your temple,the holy treasure of your skin.May you know the preciousnessof your own becoming,how sacred it is. May we know how to welcome you,woman born,birthing love on this good earth. Cards and Prints of Blessed Be The Blood available on Etsy. (Meet Mago Contributor) Lucy Pierce.
(Essay 3) Kinship and Power of Place by Sara Wright

The following day I went to see where Ghost Ranch was located, the first place that Georgia lived (and bought), where she painted many of her landscapes. I was not prepared for the astonishing depth and breadth and the visionary quality of the seemingly endless beauty that surrounded me. Ghost Ranch blended so well with the scenery that I could barely see the whole tucked into the base of one of the cliffs. I spent four hours staring at the austere mountains that changed color every second as clouds passed by and shadows fell in new places highlighting red, ocher, lavender, even deep purple and green until the night closed in. The landscape around Georgia’s “home-place” was so astounding that after my initial experience and attempt to describe it, I decided that O’Keeffe’s mountains must remain as stark impressions in my mind:

(Special Post Isis 1) Why the Color of Isis Matters by Mago Circle Members

[Editor’s note: The discussion took place in Mago Circle during the month of July, 2013. Our heartfelt thanks go to the members who participated in this discussion with openness and courage.] Part 1 Is Isis White (European) or Black (African)? Harita Meenee What could Isis have to do with the political situation in Egypt? Read on to find out! Isis, Egypt and the Revolution For the past few years Egypt has felt like a second home to me. Some cherished friends and co-workers live there, to whom my thoughts often travel. Also, Isis, the Egyptian great goddess once worshiped all over the Mediterranean, has been an ever-present source of inspiration… By: Harita Meenee, Author https://www.facebook.com/notes/harita-meenee-author/isis-egypt-and-the-revolution/457348724361326 Rick Williams Isis and that picture for me is kind of offensive in 2013. KMT [Kemet, Egypt] and AUSET [Isis] “worship” is an oxymoron. Kahena Dorothea Can you explain, Rick Williams, how it is an oxymoron? I am curious. Rick Williams First, Auset as a deity was not a singularly honored symbolic personage. KMT taught principles of BALANCE and UNIVERSAL COSMOLOGICAL TRUTH. There are NO images from the dawn of that age depicting her as EUROPEAN. [Threads curtailed] Helen Hwang I would strongly suggest that Rick and others who see Rick’s point educate us in Mago Circle. I know this is very difficult but we are here to learn and express differences from each other. We are all centers and please share your perspective and knowledge so that others can learn. I am doing that with patience and tolerance as well. Thank you all! Rick Williams I try to be as honest and respectful when I can, Helen. I only personalize things when ONE person says something. Yet there are those who know that the people of that land now weren’t the same people who honored the deities of mythology and that image isn’t of Auset. When will folks stop promoting fictitious images and uneducated observations? I could have beat around the bush and politely asked about the statue, why that one isn’t truly the same of Auset’s time? Helen Hwang Okay, conflicts and contradictions are everywhere. Nonetheless, we can’t be beat by those. We are exploring ways to be empowered by addressing our differences in Mago Circle. We trust that we have good intentions and yet we are not perfect. I do Mago Circle and Return to Mago because I believe there is a way for us to meet and talk with our differences, I can’t let that hope go! Thank us for talking to each other. Naa Ayele Kumari I can see both points. Egypt has a long and ancient history… One filled with invaders.. wars.. people who stole the magic and manipulated it for their own purposes… Those invaders changed images to make them in their own reflections all the while slowly destroying the indigenous images of power and strength as well as the sacred tradition they were built on.. As a woman of African descent, it is sometimes difficult to see the Hellenistic images of our mother.. because her original images were a woman of color. Racism… whether we chose to admit it or not has played an immense part in our oppression as a people and that includes the struggle for Egypt today. It is especially a sensitive issue because those images play a role in how people see and view black women… even today. The dark goddess is stereotyped as being a part of our shadow while the white goddess is caste as being all that is good in the world. What black women struggle to tell the world is that those projections are simply racist projections… and so we reject them. Still, I recognize that people like to experience the divine in their own image and that our Mother has been taken around the world… and by extension absorbed many names and faces because after all, she is mother not to just Africans… but to the World. Right now, we have dominant tradition of Islam… that at its roots has a feminine basis… (Islam came from the word Isis) all the while oppressing women by its dogma. The indigenous people of Egypt, the Badarians and Nubians… are oppressed by Arab invaders who have taken control, projected their own religions all the while wanting to destroy the remainder of the images of the ancients. Injustice recognizes injustice… and all the ways that it shows up. At the root of Egypt…is Isis… called also Esi and Auset by the indigenous people. She has been oppressed by many layers of invaders… Her daughter’s voices have been muted… Timeless icon that she is, as the tides are turning, so are the heavy oppressions being lifted. Women are finding and re-remembering their power… and as they do… Mama Esi.. is taking back her throne. Naa Ayele Kumari This is the Isis on the walls and temples of Egypt. Harita Meenee Seeing the people of Egypt as all white or all Black means stereotyping them. In fact the inhabitants of Egypt are of different colors: some are white, others are Black and many others are something in-between. The same was true in antiquity and it’s reflected in Egyptian art. Rick Williams Harita, really? What does that have to do with your choice of misrepresentation of that image? Please enlighten me, thank you. Harita Meenee Τhere is no misrepresentation, dear Rick Williams. If you read my note carefully, you’ll see that it talks about Isis as a goddess who was worshiped all over the Mediterranean–I’m not referring to just her Egyptian manifestation. The statue depicted is in the National Archaeological Museum in Athens, Greece. I took this picture and processed it slightly so that it looks more like a painting than a sculpture. No change was made to the actual form or color of the statue. I’m attaching a photo of the museum label of this work of art. It may not be clearly visible, but it reads: Marble statue of the goddess Isis-Tyche-Pelagia. 1st-2nd century AD. The composite name means that, as was often the case in […]
(Special Post 1) "The Oldest Civilization" 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 Isis 3) Why the Color of Isis Matters by Mago Circle Members

[Editor’s note: The discussion took place in Mago Circle during the month of July, 2013. Our heartfelt thanks go to the members who participated in this discussion with openness and courage.] Part 3 Isis, Arab Women Revolution, and Black Goddesses Naa Ayele Kumari Going back to the original topic of the post…. Some quotes ” Women are in half the society… How come there are only 7 in the Assembly… and they are all Islamist! ” I can’t beat up my wife and almost kill her and call it discipline… this is not discipline… this is abuse and insanity” http://youtu.be/y4umifTLSII 12-Year Old Explains Egyptian Revolution in Under 3 Minutes www.youtube.com Max Dashu It is tremendously heartening to see these insights being expressed, and spread. The Salafis have made such inroads, and now the pushback is happening. Harita Meenee Dear Naa Ayele Kumari, thank you actually reading my post and commenting something relevant to it. It’s refreshing when someone does hear what we have to say instead of projecting their own notions. Building a solidarity movement with those who are oppressed but fighting is very important during these critical times! Harita Meenee See also: https://www.facebook.co/intifadat.almar2a?fref=ts The uprising of women in the Arab world انتفاضة المرأة في العالم العربي حرية الفكر ، حرية التعبير ، حرية الاعتقاد ، حرية التنقل ، حرية الجسد ، حرية اللب…See More Glenys Livingstone … as you say Max …” way too much of it going on” – amongst people who should know better (I would have thought): “Dark goddess as terrifying, challenging, white goddess as benign; “black magic” as harmful; I see way, way too much of this going on out there.” And related to that in my mind is all the “love and light” business that is so common: the Ground of Being is Dark … it seems to me that mystics have always understood the quintessential darkness of Love/Deity. Max Dashu Sure. I would just like to add that the critique raised here addressed issues much broader than the substance of the article, which made some good points. But once the choice of graphics flagged the issue of representation, people had much more to say about that old yet still very fresh wound which is constantly reopened by the cultural habit of whitening Egypt, or interpreting Africa through a eurocentric lens. It is not on any one person to carry the weight of that; we all have a responsibility to address the issues, but especially those of us of European heritage need to familiarize ourselves with how this plays out over and over. Just as men have a responsibility to speak up in support of women when patriarchal assumptions are on board. We all can learn something from each other, along all the various axes of domination, and overthrow them in coalition. Naa Ayele Kumari I have often considered where the roots of this psychology comes from. It is dualistic thinking that causes us to compare and contrast, then sum up judgement of good or bad and place a value on each. It extends into competition and justification for war. It also doesn’t escape me that often this came with certain civilizations who systematically destroyed others. It didn’t just happen with blacks in Africa… but blacks in Asia and the Indus Valley as well. With the Aryan invasions of India, came the eventual introduction to lighter divinities and more emphasis on male divinities. Southern Indians, Sri Lankans are very dark… even more so than many African Blacks. The caste systems implemented by the Aryan invaders did the same thing to them casting them as “untouchables”. With that came the marginalization of their black female divinities such as Kali. Kali actually has 10-16 forms… from compassionate mother, the fountain of wisdom, to she of great beauty but she is minimized as just destructive and terrifying… especially as Brhaman, Vishnuu, and Shiva grow in popularity. One of Kali’s statues has her black self standing on top of Shiva because she conquered him. Later there is a discussion in on of the Hindu text explaining Kali (as Parvati) after being subdued by Shiva she becomes lighter. Further they have stories about him rejecting her and calling her blackie which made her do austerities to rid herself of her black skin. Naa Ayele Kumari It should not be overlooked that in the Story of Alice in Wonderland… a story intended to keep Goddess elements for future generations, has the Elder sister ( the Queen of Hearts) portrayed as man, ego, and power driven who cuts off heads and has a fierce dragon…a clear reference to Kali. The White goddess as the younger sister is her opponent… and her mission is to usurp the throne of the Queen of Hearts even though she was the rightful heir as the oldest … or primordial. Stories like these also reinforce the stereotypes and negative iconography. Max Dashu Yes, it is pervasive in many cultures of domination. Demons are portrayed as black not only in Europe, which we know well, but also in China and in a lot of Buddhist iconography. In modern India, the sweet goddesses are shown as pink, the wrathful as black; and Krishna (name means “dark”) is turned powder blue. (Another of his titles, s’yam, also meaning dark, is the word translated as “green” in Green Tara.) The countercurrents (Black Mazu, loving Kali – esp in Bengal and south India, Black Madonna) bubbled up from the common people, who knew and longed for something other than the dominant racialized hierarchy. Naa Ayele Kumari I am just discovering Mazu ( Matzu/LuShui) in China today! Never knew about her. This discussion has led me to look deeper for black goddesses in Asia. Max Dashu Taoist spiritual tradition often refers to Xüan Nü, which can be translated in several ways. You’ll usually see it rendered as “the Mysterious Female,” a phrase that occurs in the Dao De Jing (Tao Te Ching), and this is a valid translation; but what is less emphasized is that it also means “the Dark Woman.” In […]

(Book Excerpt) Held in the Womb of the Wheel of the Year by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an excerpt from the Introduction of the author’s new book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. Meditation cushion in circle of decorated stones My ancestors built great circles of stones that represented their perception of real time and space, and enabled them to tell time: the stone circles were cosmic calendars.[i] They went to great lengths and detail to get it right. It was obviously very important to them to have the stones of a particular kind, in the right positions according to position of the Sun at different times of the year, and then to celebrate ceremony within it. I have for decades had a much smaller circle of stones assembled. I have regarded this small circle of stones as a medicine wheel. It is a portable collection, that I can spread out in my living space, or let sit in a small circle on an altar, with a candle/candles in the middle. Each stone (or objects, as some are) represents a particular Seasonal Moment/transition and is placed in the corresponding direction. The small circle of eight stones represents the flow of the Solstices and Equinoxes and the cross-quarter Moments in between: that is, it represents the “Wheel of the Year” as it is commonly known in Pagan traditions. I have found this assembled circle to have been an important presence. It makes the year, my everyday sacred journey of Earth around Sun, tangible and visible as a circle, and has been a method of changing my mind, as I am placed in real space and time. My stone wheel has been a method of bringing me home to my indigenous sense of being. Each stone/object of my small wheel may be understood to represent a “moment of grace,” as Thomas Berry named the seasonal transitions – each is a threshold to the Centre, wherein I may now sit: I sense it as a powerful point. As I sit on the floor in the centre of my small circle of stones, I reflect on its significance as I have come to know the Seasonal transitions that it marks, over decades of celebrating them. I sense the aesthetics and poetry of each. I facilitated and was part of the celebration and contemplation of these Moments in my region for decades. It was always an open group that gathered, and so its participants changed over the years but it remained in form, like a live body which it was: a ceremonial body that conversed with the sacred Cosmos in my place. We spoke a year-long story and poetry of never-ending renewal – of the unfolding self, Earth and Cosmos. We danced and chanted our relationship with the Mother, opened ourselves to Her Creativity, and conversed with Her by this method. All participants in their own way within these ceremonies made meaning of their lives – which is what I understand relationship to be, in this context of Earth and Sun, our Place and Home in the Cosmos: that is, existence is innately meaningful when a being knows Who one is and Where one is. Barbara Walker notes that religions based on the Mother are free of the “neurotic” quest for indefinable meaning in life as such religions “never assumed that life would be required to justify itself.”[ii] I face the North stone, which in my hemisphere is where I place the Summer Solstice. From behind me and to my right is the light part of the cycle – representing manifest form, all that we see and touch. From behind me and to my left is the dark part of the cycle – representing the manifesting, the reality beneath the visible, which includes the non-visible. The Centre wherein I sit, represents the present. The wheel of stones has offered to me a way of experiencing the present as “presence,” as it recalls in an instant that, That which has been and that which is to come are not elsewhere – they are not autonomous dimensions independent of the encompassing present in which we dwell. They are, rather, the very depths of this living place – the hidden depth of its distances and the concealed depth on which we stand.[iii] This wheel of stones, which captures the Wheel of the Year in essence, locates me in the deep present, wherein the past and the future are contained – both always gestating in the dark, through the gateways. And all this has been continually enacted and expressed in the ceremonies of the Wheel of the Year, as the open, yet formal group has done them, mostly in the place of Blue Mountains, Australia. PaGaian Cosmology altar/mandala: a “Womb of Gaia” map Over the years of practice of ritually celebrating these eight Seasonal Moments – Earth’s whole annual journey around Sun, I have been held in this creative story, this Story of Creativity as it may be written – it is a sacred story. Her pattern of Creativity can be identified at all levels of reality – manifesting in seasonal cycles, moon cycles, body cycles – and to be aligned with it aligns a person’s core with the Creative Mother Universe. I have identified the placing of one’s self within this wheel through ceremonial practice of the whole year of creativity, as the placing of one’s self in Her Womb – Gaia’s Womb, a Place of Creativity. All that is necessary for Creativity is present in this Place. All may come forth from here/Here – and so it does, and so it has, and so it will. NOTES: [i] See Martin Brennan, The Stones of Time: Calendars, Sundials, and Stone Chambers of Ancient Ireland (Rochester Vermont, Inner Traditions, 1994). [ii] Barbara Walker, The Woman’s Encyclopaedia of Myths and Secrets (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1983), 693. [iii] David Abram, The Spell of the Sensuous (New York: Vintage Books, 1997), 216. REFERENCES: Abram, David. The Spell of the Sensuous. New York: Vintage Books, 1997. Brennan, Martin. The Stones of Time: Calendars, Sundials, and Stone Chambers of Ancient Ireland.Rochester Vermont: Inner Traditions, 1994. Walker, Barbara. The Woman’s Encyclopaedia of Myths and Secrets. San Francisco: …
(Prose) Halcyon for the Season by Deanne Quarrie

A bird for this season is the Kingfisher, also known as the Halcyon. The Kingfisher is associated in Greek myth with the Winter Solstice. There were fourteen “halcyon days” in every year, seven of which fell before the winter solstice, seven after; peaceful days when the sea was smooth as a pond and the hen-halcyon built a floating nest and hatched out her young. She also had another habit, that of carrying her dead mate on her back over the sea and mourning him with a plaintive cry. Pliny reported that the halcyon was rarely seen and then only at the winter and summer solstices and at the setting of the Pleiades. She was therefore, a manifestation of the Moon-Goddess who was worshiped at the two solstices as the Goddess of Life in Death and Death in Life and, when the Pleiades set, she sent the sacred king his summons for death. Kingfishers are typically stocky, short-legged birds with large heads and large, heron-like beaks. They feed primarily on fish, hovering over the water or watching intently from perches and they plunge headlong into the water to catch their prey. Their name, Alcedinidae, stems from classical Greek mythology. Alcyone, Daughter of the Wind, was so distraught when her husband perished in a shipwreck that she threw herself into the sea. Both were then transformed into kingfishers and roamed the waves together. When they nested on the open sea, the winds remained calm and the weather balmy. Still another Alcyone, Queen of Sailing, was the mystical leader of the seven Pleiades. The heliacal rising of the Pleiades in May marked the beginning of the navigational year and their setting marked the end. Alcyone, as Sea Goddess protected sailors from rocks and rough weather. The bird, halcyon continued for centuries to be credited with the magical power of allaying storms. Shakespeare refers to this legend in this passage from Hamlet: Some say that ever ‘gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour’s birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long; And then, they say, no spirit can walk abroad; The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow’d and so gracious is the time. Hamlet, I, i 157 When I was a young mother, and my children were little, we lived in a house that had a creek in the back yard. There were small trees along the far bank of this creek and every day, a kingfisher would sit in the branches overlooking the creek. Sometimes he sat there very quietly for a very long time. Suddenly he would dive from his perch straight into the creek. Every time he did he came out and up into the air with a fish. It gave me great pleasure to watch him from my kitchen window. I love birds. I love learning about their habits because it teaches me ways of being that are closer to nature. I love drawing birds as well. When I was a young and more able, I was an avid bird watcher, out with my friends hoping for a sight never seen before. I love the story of the kingfisher and her connection to the Halcyon Days of the Winter Solstice. It is for most of us the busiest time of year. Whether it is for the Solstice or Christmas (often both) we are in a frenzy to get things done, making sure everything is just right and perfect. I celebrate the Winter Solstice. As a priestess, my days right now are very busy creating ritual. It is at the Solstice that many passage rites are happening with the women I work with. And of course, I celebrate with my family with our magical Yule Log each year. But I try to honor those seven days before and the seven days after by trying to have the frantic moments before the Halcyon Days begin and then even when busy, hold the peace and calm of that beautiful smooth sea in my mind. Peace and love and joy surrounding the Winter Solstice make it perfect. May the Peace of a Halcyon Sea be yours in this Solstice Season. Do hold the image of that little kingfisher in mind! Meet Mago Contributor, Deanne Quarrie
(Essay) The Wheel of the Year and Climate Change by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

https://pagaian.org/pagaian-wheel-of-the-year/ The Wheel of the Year in a PaGaian cosmology essentially celebrates Cosmogenesis – the unfolding of the Cosmos, in which Earth’s extant Creativity participates directly, as does each unique being. The Creativity of Cosmogenesis is expressed through Earth-Sun relationship as it may manifest and be experienced within any region of our Planet. In PaGaian tradition this is expressed with Triple Goddess Poetry, which is understood to be metaphor for the creative dynamics unfolding the Cosmos. At the heart of the Earth-Sun relationship is the dance of light and dark, the waxing and waning of both these qualities, as Earth orbits around our Mother Sun. This dance, which results in the manifestation of form and its dissolution, as it does in the Seasons, happens because of Earth’s tilt in relationship with Sun: and that is because this tilt effects the intensity of regional receptivity to Sun’s energy over the period of the yearly orbit. This tilt was something that happened in the evolution of our planet in its earliest of days – some four and a half billion years ago, and then stabilised over time: and the climatic zones were further formed when Antarctica separated from Australia and South America, giving birth to the Antarctica Circumpolar Current, changing the circulation of water around all the continents … just some thirty million years ago[i]. Within the period since then, which also saw the advent of the earliest humans, Earth has gone through many climatic changes. It is likely that throughout those changes, the dance of light and dark in both hemispheres of the planet … one always the opposite of the other – has been fairly stable and predictable. The resultant effect on flora and fauna regionally however has varied enormously depending on many other factors of Earth’s ever changing ecology: She is an alive Planet who continues to move and re-shape Herself. She is Herself subject to the cosmic dynamics of creativity – the forming and the dissolving and the re-emerging. The earliest of humans must have received all this, ‘observed’ it, in a very participatory way: that is, not as a Western industrialized or dualistic mind would think of ‘observation’ today, but as kin with the events – identifying with their own experience of coming into being and passing away. There is evidence to suggest that humans have expressed awareness of, and response to, the phenomenon of coming into being and passing away, as early as one hundred thousand years ago: ritual burial sites of that age have been found[ii], and more recently a site of ongoing ritual activity as old as seventy thousand years has been found[iii]. The ceremonial celebration of the phenomenon of seasons probably came much later, particularly perhaps when humans began to settle down. These ceremonial celebrations of seasons apparently continued to reflect the awesomeness of existence as well as the marking of transitions of Sun back and forth across the horizon, which became an important method of telling the time for planting and harvesting and the movement of pastoral animals. https://pagaian.org/pagaian-wheel-of-the-year/ It seems that the resultant effect of the dance of light and dark on regional flora and fauna, has been fairly stable in recent millennia, the period during which many current Earth-based religious practices and expression arose. In our times, that is changing again. Humans have been, and are, a major part of bringing that change about. Ever since we migrated around the planet, humans have brought change, as any creature would: but humans have gained advantage and distinguished themselves by toolmaking, and increasingly domesticating/harnessing more of Earth’s powers – fire being perhaps the first, and this also aided our migration. In recent times this harnessing/appropriating of Earth’s powers became more intense and at the same time our numbers dramatically increased: and many of us filled with hubris, acting without consciousness or care of our relational context. We are currently living in times when our planet is tangibly and visibly transforming: the seasons themselves as we have known them for millennia – as our ancestors knew them – appear to be changing in most if not all regions of our Planet. Much predictable Poetry – sacred language – for expressing the quality of the Seasonal Moments will change, as regional flora changes, as the movement of animals and birds and sea creatures changes, as economies change[iv]. In Earth’s long story regional seasonal manifestation has changed before, but not so dramatically since the advent of much current Poetic expression for these transitions, as mixed as they are with layers of metaphor: that is, with layers of mythic eras, cultures and economies. We may learn and understand the traditional significance of much of the Poetry, the ceremony and symbol – the art – through which we could relate and converse with our place, as our ancestors may have done; but it will continue to evolve as all language must. At the moment the dance of dark and light remains predictable, but much else is in a process of transformation. As we observe and sense our Place, our Habitat, as our ancestors also did, we can, and may yet still make Poetry of the dance of dark and light, of this quality of relationship with Sun, and how it may be manifesting in a particular region and its significance for the inhabitants: we may still find Poetic expression with which to celebrate the sacred journey that we make everyday around Mother Sun, our Source of life and energy. It has been characteristic of humans for at least several tens of thousands of years, to create ceremony and symbol by which we could relate with the creative dynamics of our place, and perhaps it was initially a method of coming to terms with these dynamics – with the apparently uniquely human awareness of coming into being and passing away[v]. Our need for sacred ceremony of relationship with our place, can only be more dire in these times, as we are witness to, and aware of, …
(Video) A Samhain Ceremony by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IVRoK2XNeqw The purpose of the video is for ceremony and I suggest pausing the video where it suits you, to add your own processing, embellishments and/or your own drum, percussion and voice wherever you please. I have made short spaces in the video where it could be paused. For more full participation in the ceremony, you could have some past photos of yourself, an altar with ancestor photos, a gingerbread snake, some apples sliced up, and some apple juice. The script for this Samhain ceremony is offered in Chapter 4 of my book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony, with all acknowledgements and references there. However I want to acknowledge here the inspiration and some text of Robin Morgan’s poem “The Network of the Imaginary Mother” in her book Lady of the Beasts, for which I was given permission in my book. I also acknowledge here the paraphrase of some words by Starhawk in her book The Spiral Dance, used in the rite of Sailing to a New World. I also use a line from the poem Song of Hecate by Bridget McKern. The elements of Water, Fire, Earth and Air on the altar in this video are placed in directions that are appropriate to my region in the Southern Hemisphere, and East Coast Australia: you may place yours differently, and transliterate when I mention the direction (which I do minimally). For the rite of the Transformation Journey (remembering old selves) I use an adaptation of a children’s game “In and Out the Windows”, where each participant travels in and out of upraised and linked arms of the circle, and when ‘in’ may speak and /or show photos of themselves from the past. Some may choose to remember any self from the entire evolutionary story, with whom they would like to identify. The game seems appropriate to what each being does existentially in so many ways, over the eons as well as in our personal lives. The chant can be found on YouTube. The photos used are a collage of footage and photos from the 2024 Samhain ceremony at my place in Wakka Wakka country, South East Queensland Australia, and from previous Samhain ceremonies I facilitated over the decades in MoonCourt, Goddess ceremonial space in NSW Australia, Darug and Gundungurra country. Music credit: All music used in this video is by Tim Wheater, which has previously generously allowed me to use in my work. The pieces used are from Tim’s CD Fish Nite Moon: they are Ancient Footsteps, Fish Nite Moon, Spiritbirth, and Conception. I thank my partner Robert (Taffy) Seaborne for his participation in the creation of the video.
(Art & Poem) Candelmas/Imbolc by Sudie Rakusin & Annie Finch

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

(Photo Essay 1) ‘Gaeyang Halmi, the Sea Goddess of Korea’ by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

Part I: Living Tradition Bearers and Her Shrine, Suseong-dang I had the privilege to join a field trip to collect the folk stories of Gaeyang Halmi, the Sea Goddess, in Buan-gun (Buan County), North Jeolla Province, South Korea July 10-12, 2012. The team comprised a group of graduate students studying Korean Literature at the Kunguk University (Kim Jungeun, Cho Hongyoun, Lee Won-Young, Hwang Sungup, and Lee Boohee) headed by Dr. Shin Dong-Hun, Dr. Park Hyeon-Suk, and myself.[i]
(Book Excerpt 3) The Mago Way: Re-discovering Mago, the Great Goddess from East Asia

[Author’s Note: The following is from Chapter 8, The Consciousness of WE/HERE/NOW.] The Budoji stories the primordial drama of Mago’s beginning. It furnishes a yet-to-be-heard story of the beginning of the Great Goddess, the taboo story in patriarchy. It is the story of the Creatrix that patriarchy has attempted to erase. It can be temporarily forgotten but can never die because it is the story that is at the root of patriarchy. Ultimately, it is The Story that is happening HERE and NOW. The merit of the Magoist Cosmogony lies in the fact that it, through storying, restores the view of the whole, the macrocosmic view of the All. The holistic view necessarily involves the Great Goddess or the First Mother in that S/HE is the Creatrix. Time is not a linear concept, flowing from one end to the other. Time is the unified Present, happening NOW. It may be said that time is circular or cyclic, as all beings are constantly in motion to enhance the process of self-creation, which causes the whole to change ceaselessly. The Present hosts an infinite number of stories that take place in the undividable One Space HERE. The beginning of the Great Goddess is still happening and we are invited to re-cognize HER STORY in the HERE and NOW. The beginning is a process, not a single isolated event that took place in the remote past.[i] All things exist in the process of becoming HERE and NOW as part of WE. Put differently, the beginning of the Great Goddess is the LIVE SCENE/DRAMA/STORY. We are part of HER STORY. Mago’s beginning is the heart that pumps fresh blood to the body of the terrestrial becoming. The beginning of the Great Goddess is still taking place HERE/NOW. The terrestrial beginning is attributed to the Great Goddess who is self-born through the sonic movement of cosmic light. The beginning story of the Great Goddess is no ordinary one. It is of power and truth, that is, metamorphic. It provides the original text to the meaning of “salvation.” HER Beginning that is happening HERE/NOW holds all from falling into cacophony. For one thing, it delivers us from the patriarchal misconception of ultimate reality that does away with the Creatrix. The holistic view of the Creatrix is capable of saving us from misconceptions and misconduct. Ultimately, it guides us to live our life in harmony with the whole, HERE/NOW. The Magoist Cosmogony engenders the consciousness that WE ARE HERE/NOW. The universe is existent without beginning or end. In one ever-existing reality, things ceaselessly appear and disappear in relation to one another on all levels. All things are in the constant movement of autogenesis striving to arrive at a new position of balance. S/HE IS HERE/NOW telling us the STORY of WE. That is the source of our metamorphosis. Notes: [i] Process thought founded by Alfred North Whitehead, Charles Hartshorne, and John B. Cobb shares a common premise on that regard, although it does not associate ultimate reality with the Creatrix. (See Book Excerpt 1 and Book Excerpt 2. Available in Mago Bookstore.) Meet Mago Contributor, Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D.
(Essay 1) The Magoist Calendar: Mago Time inscribed in Sonic Numerology by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

[Author’s Note: This is my latest research that has led me to restore the 13-month, 28-day Mago Calendar, which will be included at the end of its sequels. See Mago Almanac: 13 Month 28 Day Calendar (Book A), published in 2017.] Magoist Calendar is the inter-cosmic genealogical chart of the Creatrix in which all is found kindred. It unfolds the one standard unified time, which I call the Cosmic Mother’s Time or the Mago Time, wherein all beings in Our Universe from microcosmic quarts to macrocosmic celestial bodies are perceived in continuum. The Cosmic Mother’s Time is an inclusive time in which everyone is re-membered and celebrated. It is revelatory for its numinous nature, which some may call a mystery. The Mago Time is happening