August 28, 2025December 18, 2025 Mago Work2 Comments

(Call for E-Interviews) Networking with Organization Representatives

Return to Mago (RTM) E-Magazine Co-editors welcome your e-interview to be conducted with the founder or representative of an organization whose mission and cause are aligned with the feminist activist Read More …

August 27, 2025August 25, 2025 Mago WorkLeave a comment

Lucy’s Light by Sara Wright

Purple and scarlet orange flames lemon and gold lavender blue cobalt hues we are dogs, bees, bears, butterflies, hummingbirds too Innocence seeking a place we once knew… Grief pulled Read More …

August 26, 2025July 1, 2025 Mago WorkLeave a comment

(Essay 11) Mago Halmi (Great Mother) Shapes Topographies with Her Skirt: An Introductory Discussion by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

[Author’s Note: This essay was included in the journal, S/HE: An International Journal of Goddess Studies (Vol 3 No 1, 2024). Footnotes numbers here differ from those of the original Read More …

August 25, 2025July 29, 2025 Mago WorkLeave a comment

(Poem) An Overwhelming Affinity by Harriet Ann Ellenberger

– Harriet Ann Ellenberger for Albert E. B. O’Brien (1948 – 2024)

August 23, 2025July 31, 2025 Mago WorkLeave a comment

(Meet Mago Contributor) Annalisa Derr, Ph.D.

Annalisa Derr, Ph.D., is an independent goddess scholar, sacred feminine embodiment facilitator, and ritual theatre creatrix. She earned her doctorate in Mythological Studies with Emphasis in Depth Psychology from Pacifica Read More …

August 9, 2025February 24, 2026 Mago WorkLeave a comment

(New Project) Organizational Invitation to Nine-Sister Networks

Return to Mago E-Magazine celebrates the 13th year this year and Return to Mago (RTM) E-Magazine Co-editors seek to form organizational alliances beyond individual alliances. RTM E-Magazine as one of Read More …

July 11, 2025August 4, 2025 Mago WorkLeave a comment

(Poem) A Meditation on the Orchestra of Mother Earth by Sarah Wolfe

I laugh when humans say— meditation is quiet. I implore my children, to again try it. Slow and steady is the breath; in my bosom you lay. Close your eyes Read More …

July 10, 2025December 6, 2025 RTM Co-Editor M SaracinoLeave a comment

(Nine Poets Speak) Strange tractors by Susan Hawthorne

[Editors’ Note: Learn about how the “Nine Poets Speak” series came to be in place here.] From The Butterfly Effect (2005)

July 9, 2025July 9, 2025 ANewvineLeave a comment

(Music) Alexandra Blakely’s Wails (Songs for Grief) Album by Alison Newvine

It has been present with me, the necessity of grieving, of standing with the grieving. Of sitting in circles of mourning. Of aligning with those of are mourning. Alexandra Blakely’s Read More …

July 8, 2025July 1, 2025 Mago Work2 Comments

(Essay 10) Mago Halmi (Great Mother) Shapes Topographies with Her Skirt: An Introductory Discussion by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

[Author’s Note: This essay was included in the journal, S/HE: An International Journal of Goddess Studies (Vol 3 No 1, 2024). Footnotes numbers here differ from those of the original Read More …

July 7, 2025June 1, 2025 RTMeditorsKGLeave a comment

(Essay) Three Biological Shaping Powers and the Female Metaphor/Dea by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an edited excerpt from Chapter 1 of the author’s book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. Cosmologist Brian Swimme and geologian Thomas Berry note Read More …

July 4, 2025June 20, 2025 Mago WorkLeave a comment

(Poem) Birdlife by Susan Hawthorne

I saw three emus close to the water, disturbed 10 wild turkeys and put to flight any number of swans and native companions. In every little bay were pelicans by Read More …

July 3, 2025December 6, 2025 Carolyn BoydLeave a comment

(Nine Poets Speak) A Stone in the Waters Lit by the Moonlight by Carolyn Lee Boyd

[Editors’ Note: Learn about how the “Nine Poets Speak” series came to be in place here.] She rests in my hand, the cold stone,a seed from Earth’s heart,planted in my Read More …

(Book Excerpt 3) Rainbow Goddess: Celebrating Neurodiversity ed. by K. L. Aldred, P. Daly, T Albanna, and Trista Hendren

[Editor’s Note: This anthology was published by Girl God Books (2022).] “An Autistic Bibliophile’s Tale” by Jessica Penot I once went back and found my first journal. I was 5 when I wrote it. In it, I said I wanted to be a “riter of bocs”. Even when I was 5, the only thing I wanted was to write. I knew that the only thing that ever made me happy were stories and books. I wanted to be lost in books. I wanted to be lost in words and in stories. I wanted to dive so deep into fantasy worlds that I wouldn’t ever have to come up for breath. The real world was too terrifying. Nothing in it ever made sense. Everyone was always mad at me. I never did anything right. From the time I was very young, I felt like I didn’t belong to anything. I was a puzzle piece put in the wrong box. I was difficult. I was a disappointment. When I wrote and read, however, I could be whoever I wanted and in books, I found other heroes and heroines who felt as out of place as I did. Books were the world that made sense to me. I wrote my first novel on my mother’s old typewriter when I was 11 years old. It was a tragic thing. It was so influenced by Anne Rice it felt like a bad copy of Anne Rice, but her novels spoke to me as a child. I could relate more to the vampires wandering the world searching for some glimpse of humanity than I could to my peers. Those vampires with their lonely lives of isolation felt like kindred spirits. Real people were enigmas. I tried to interact with them. I desperately wanted to be like them. I wanted friends I wanted attachment, but people never made sense. I knew I was always acting wrong and upsetting them, but beyond that, I had no idea what they expected of me or what motivated their behavior. So, I wrote my first novel. I created a space where the main character could make beauty from her strangeness, where she could find solace in her isolation. I made a world for myself where I belonged. In the pages of my book, my strange and lonely heroine could find love and friendship. She could find acceptance where none had ever been available to me. Writing and reading remained my life for years, but in college I turned away from the English degree, as I wanted to pursue a degree that was a little more practical. So, I became a psychologist. Despite my career change, I didn’t change. I couldn’t fit in with the normal. Oddly, as a therapist I could connect with people. I could understand them and maybe because I felt so isolated, I worked harder than most therapists to make sure none of my clients ever did, but connection was lost to me. So, I wrote and read. All my characters were isolated and born different. They were born witches, born gods, born demons, but there was always some reason why no matter how hard they tried, they could never fit in or be understood by normal humanity. I worked out my isolation behind computer screens. I wrote about a psychologist who lived alone in a haunted house in Alabama. She was born a witch and the only way she could find help for her clients was to embrace her true nature and turn to witchcraft. I wrote about a warrior on a distant world who was born different and the only way they could find peace was to embrace their true nature. The same theme repeated, but I never understood why. I didn’t know I had autism. I knew I felt alone, but I didn’t understand. By the time I was 40 I had published 10 books. I still had my psychology practice, but I had a mountain of failed friendships and relationships behind me. My otherness remained as distinct and well-marked upon me as Hester Prim’s Scarlet Letter. I might as well have had “freak: avoid at all costs” tattooed to my forehead. When I was finally diagnosed with autism, things began to finally make sense. The last book I wrote was Jane of Air. It was a young adult retelling of my favorite book, Jane Eyre. It was told with a bit of a Lovecraftian twist so that Jane was born with a tattoo of a door on her back. She was smart and beautiful but different and off-putting and as she aged the tattoo grew and changed. It became larger. The bones of the story were like the story of Jane Eyre, but ghosts and old gods littered the hallways of Thornfield Hall and Jane herself was an unsmiling intellectual who spoke wrong and looked wrong. People moved away from her. She didn’t know what to do with her face and loud noises and odd foods could send her running. All of this was because she was born with part of an old god in her. She was born different. She couldn’t change it. She could see she was part monster, but she lacked the ability to be human, despite her desperate desire to belong. I didn’t know I was autistic when I wrote this book, but I knew Jane was me. I knew I felt like a monster. I felt like an outsider. I felt like I was born different and no matter how hard I tried to cover up who I really was, in the end people always found out and when they found out, they ran away. I always knew all my characters were me. They were lost and broken and so different from humanity that they always feel almost doomed from the start. They don’t know how to connect or relate to the world, and they are desperately grasping for love and connection in any form. They are odd …
(Essay) The Women of Fanes by Claire French

Old Agostino was the yardman in my uncle’s building yard. He was a hunchback with a large bony face, sad grey eyes and unkempt grey hair. His hands were like shovels, strong and hard, and he walked with a heavy shambling gait like Alberich in the Northern saga. But to me, a lonely little girl in a world of grown ups, he was always of exquisite gentleness, and I soon discovered that he was a wonderful storyteller. His voice was deep and strong, in stark contrast to his misshapen body, and his words, broken Austrian-German interspersed with his native Ladinian, sounded like water murmuring, rippling and gushing over a stone-filled creek bed. Agostino hailed from the Dolomite mountains, from the forgotten tribe of the Ladinians, and that was his pride and his sorrow. “Agostino, tell me of Dolasilla”, I begged, and waited for the radiant smile to light up his face. “Ah, Dolasilla, the Princess of Fanes … she was so beautiful. Straight and slim she sat upon her charger, and the blue Rayeta Stone gleamed in her crown. She wore the white mantle of the marmots and she had the unfailing silver arrows in her quiver.” This was a story that I did not find in my book of Grimm’s Fairy Tales. A princess who fought in battle and who was an invincible warrior. But Agostino did not spare me the tragic end. Yes, Dolasilla wanted to stop fighting and conquering, but it was her father, the wicked king, who would not allow it. He banished her lover, handsome prince Ey-de-Net, and promised his daughter to the King of Aurona, the Great Goldmine. But Dolasilla would not be married against her will. When the King of the Aurona came to get her, she fought against him. But without her lover, who was also her shield bearer, she was vanquished. She was killed in battle and her kingdom, the Kingdom of Fanes, was destroyed.
(Poem) Lost texts by Susan Hawthorne

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

Deepak Shimkhada, Ph.D., teaches at Claremont School of Theology as Adjunct Professor of Hindu studies. He is the author of many journal articles and several book chapters. His edited volumes include Nepal: Nostalgia and Modernity (2012); The Constant and Changing Faces of the Goddess: Goddess Traditions of Asia (2008); Himalayas at the Crossroad: Portrait of a Changing World (1987), and Popular Buddhist Mantras in Sanskrit (1985). For more information, please visit www.deepakshimkhada.com/.
(Poem) LAMENT OF THE WOOD NYMPH by Marya Berry

PREFACE: Wood nymphs are traditionally minor female deities, divine spirits who animate nature.They are often depicted as young, nubile maidens who dance, sing, and, in some legends, play with men (or women’s) feelings. “They are known for their “beauty, passion and caprice… Nymphs tended to frequent areas distant from humans but could be encountered by lone travelers outside the village, where their music might be heard, and the traveler could spy on their dancing…in the middle of the night. Such encounters could be dangerous, bringing dumbness, besotted infatuation, madness or stroke to the unfortunate human.” [Wikipedia: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nymph] The Wood-nymphs are companions and attendants of the moon goddess Artemis. In the poem to follow, I have imagined a variation of the above scenario, with a twist, probably deriving from the fact that I was born in the 20th century and am a feminist. Here, the Wood Nymph’s perception of her own situation lies at the heart of the drama, rather than the young men she deceives.
(Essay) Heard in a Dream: Indigenous Translations by Jillian Burnett

J.A. Burnett The tongue is dead, but the ancestors speak. Slow to revive—still the message is clear. By today’s linguistical measures Taino is an extinct language. Yet the indigenous forbears send messages to their descendants. This essay is an expression of the feminine divine—a journey into my mother lineage, bringing light to a dream where words from my ancestors were heard. Receiving this mystery language was a challenge. I didn’t know what language family or continent these sounds were from; but this didn’t deter me from my goal to translate. In this process I examined word lists, glossaries, and dictionaries across dozens of American indigenous languages of North, Meso, and South America. Creating morpheme mind maps, each word-root’s relevance was weighed. What I found was a list of possibilities. It seemed like the words sometimes evolved into meanings from old meanings as well as had related meanings. Considering meaning and shadows of derivation and deviation from that root meaning’s evolution, the journey was to understand the semiological root of sound and the spectrum of meaning. This is how this translation occurred. For example, with the word for ‘ritual’ I found that across the dozens of languages considered, some had evolved to mean one specific element of that ritual- but few languages described the whole. Across all of the languages of Turtle Island, the morphemes held their semantic integrity. It is not altogether usual for a translation to occur over more than two dozen languages. But as the indigenous languages of South America go extinct, the remnants that are connected to all languages on turtle island, were gathered together. In this way the morphemes have cohesion. In the structure of the journey we first encounter the phonetic transcription. This is a description of sound—as closely as could be rendered into individual units. Following that is the translation I have extracted from the layers of meaning. After this, is a morpheme gloss along explained with their respective polysemic meanings. Finally, there is an homage to all the languages credited in providing semantical content. This exercise in translation opens the matrilineal path to my own mother lineage, and expresses the feminine divine, through language and sound form, manifest meaning. – Unknown language, Indigenous to North & South America translated. My ancestors are Taino—according to the US Government-we are extinct. My dna analysis and family heritage speaks otherwise and though we are millions, we remain detribalized, through commonwealth politics, and identity erasure as social policy. Cho Nok Te Aku Go back to the cave at sunset, Offer water, offer fire, Offer song and dance Invoke the ancestors Inviting them to your heart Then look into the skies CHO: Go back to the cave at sunset, sit and sing and offer water NOK: Offer water, offer fire, offer song and dance Invoke the ancestors, call to invite, dance, listen, play batu nok’o in the woods the woods forest,konoko woods, among trees mok sunset/evening mok exactly at the hour of sunset dance play batu listen invite the ancestors Te: inviting them into your heart, Te to your bosom/chest/heart, Te place of to your heart, to come, to return, slow, Takhu see, Tuku the sky, above, return to your heart, Takhu and see, Tuku the skies Aku: Then—look into the skies, opening, open, light a fire, cave. Languages that helped construct meanings were: Abipone, Achomawi, Alabama, Algic, Algonquian, Allentiac, Almosan, Andean, Arapaho, Atacama, Aymara, Aymara, Aymara, Barbacoan, Bintucua, California Proto, California Wintun, California Yokuts, Carib, Catio, Cayapa, Central Amerind, Chacobo, Chapacura, Chibchan, Chimariko, Chimila, Chimu, Chiriana, Choco, Cholona, Choroti Chunupi, Coahuilteco, Cofan, Colorado, Comecrudo, Conibo, Coropo, Creek, Darien, Dimina, East Pomo, Ebidoso, Equatorial, Erikbatsa, Erulia, Florida Paezan, Ge, Genutian, Guahibo Mohawk Paezan, Guaicuru, Guamaca, Guaranoco, Guaymi, Guaymi, Guazu Mataco, Gulf Muskogean, Gulf Penutian, Haisla, Heweda, Hikan, Hishcariana, Hitchiti, Hokan, Itonama, Jaqaru, Kagaba, Karutana, Klamath, Koasati, Kogui, Kutasho, Kutenai, Lower Umpqua, MacroCarib, MacroGe, MacroPanoan, MacroTucanoan, MacroTucanoan, Maidu, Maiduan, Maipuran, Maku, Malibu, Mashakali, Mataco Nocten, Mayan, Plateau Klamath, Millcayac, Miwok, MixeZoque, Mocochi, Mocovi, Mohawk, Molala, Mosan, Moseten, Muskogean, Natchez, Nez, Nez Perce, Northern Sierra, Oregon Kapapuya, Paezan, Palanoa, Panoan, Patagon, Patwin, Pemon, Penutian, Penutian Plateau, Penutuan, Perce, Piaroa, Pilaga, Plateau, Plateau Klamath, Pomo, ProtoAlgonquian, ProtoAruak, ProtoChimakuan, ProtoGuahiban Central Amerind, ProtoGulf, ProtoHokan, ProtoMaiduan, ProtoMayan, ProtoPanoan, ProtoTacanan, ProtoTucanoan, ProtoUtoAztecan, ProtoYokuts, Puri, Qawasqar, Quechua, Sabela, Saliba Timote, Salinan, Sayula, Seri, Shipibo, Siona, Toba, Tonkawa, Towothli, Tsimshian, Tsoloa, Tsoneka, Tucano, Vilela, Wakashan, Wappo, WappoHokan, Warrau, Wintu, Yokuts, Yukian, Yurok, Za, Zamuco, Zaparo, Zuni. The following is a language cloud representing the frequencies of these languages. https://www.magoism.net/2020/08/meet-mago-contributor-jillian-burnett/
(Poem) Cueva de Nerja/ Caves of Nerja by Xánath Caraza, art by Adriana Manuela Ruiz Gómez

Cueva de Nerja Por Xánath Caraza Para Isabel Ruiz Lara Columnas de tiempo como piedras de agua. Fluyen notas musicales en los minerales, en cada centímetro que avanza, eco, eco, eco.
(Art) Wombniverse/The Red Sea by Liz Darling

Menstruation is a natural process directly tied to creation and birth. Instead of being honored and respected, menstruation is treated with shame, fear, and revulsion under patriarchy. We as women often respond to this by mentally disconnecting any sense of the sacred from this aspect of ourselves. We become detached from our cycles and fail to acknowledge the gravity of what our bodies are capable of, whether we choose to create children or not. Literally and metaphorically, our wombs are catalysts for life. Meet Mago Contributor Liz Darling
(Essay 2) A Journey with Hermes by Harita Meenee

How can a journey up a stream turn into a mystical experience? My visit to the Aegean island of Samos showed me how I could connect with archetypal figures from Greek mythology through the beauty of nature. We continued to walk by the stream, which seemed ever-changing. Here it flowed calmly, forming still ponds. There it rushed taking the shape of a miniature waterfall. The color of the water alternated between the brown of mud and the green of the leaves mirrored on its surface. White foam and small, bright reflections of sunlight offered a treat to our eyes and babbling sounds filled our ears.We were not the only ones who loved this body of water. Tall plane trees grew in abundance around the stream, their roots at times protruding from its surface. I smiled in gratitude at this sight which only seemed to intensify the mystery of the place. How often do we get the chance to see a tree’s powerful roots? They’re supposed to be hidden deep in the ground; chthonic in nature, they belong to the realm of the underworld. Like Hermes, trees partake all three planes: the sky, the Earth and her dark innards.I felt a sense of wonder swelling up. By revealing their roots, the plane trees reminded us that our roots are there, too, in the countryside, in such places of exquisite beauty. The Graces must be here, too, I thought, playfully dancing with the forest Nymphs, which Greek folk tradition turned into fairies.Our feet stepped on large white-gray boulders smoothed by the gentle, persistent power of the water. Yet soon we were to come across a different kind of rock. We found ourselves in deep shade and when I looked up, I realized we were in a canyon. Tall gray stone cliffs emerged on both sides of the stream—the same stone that formed the walls of the church. “Nature builds its own temples,” a voice said in my mind as I felt a slight shiver run down my spine. I observed the steep cliffs, rich in texture, feeling their aura of mystery.As we kept walking, I was mesmerized by the little creatures of the forest and their enchanting dances. We saw small fish, tiny black tadpoles, and strange insects swimming on the surface of the water. A butterfly with dark blue iridescent wings was standing motionless on a bare branch. “If there’s any sure mark of an otherworldly creature, that must be blue iridescent wings,” my inner child says playfully.The butterfly has always been a symbol of transformation, an emblem of the psyche. In fact, psyche meant both “butterfly” and “soul” in ancient Greek. The story of Psyche and Eros comes quickly to mind and a possible connection between Aphrodite and the butterfly. But wouldn’t Hermes, the guide of souls, also love this creature? Its ethereal nature captures perfectly the essence of the Graces and Nymphs that he had an affinity with. Psyche by the French painter Guillaume Seignac (1870-1924) Previously published in Witches and Pagans.(Meet Mago Contributor) Harita Meenee.

(Special Post Mother Teresa 3) A Role Model for Women? by Mago Circle Members

Part III: The Debate, What Went Right/Wrong with Mother Teresa? [Editorial Note: The following is an edited version of the discussion that took place spontaneously on Mago Circle from March 1, 2013 for about two weeks. It was an extensive, heated, yet reflective discussion, now broken into four parts to fit the format of the blog. We thank each and all of the participants for your openness, generosity, and courage to stand up for what you believe and think! Some are marked as anonymous. As someone stated, something may have been “written in the heat of the moment” and some might like to change it at a later time. So we inform our readers that nothing is written in stone. As a matter of fact, the discussion is ongoing, now with Magoism Blog readers. Please comment and respond as you wish.] [C]: Unfortunately, Mother Theresa is not understood here in some of these comments: To be in any way critical of Mother Theresa using what was the state of the world in her time & the poor & dying as tools of compassion, even more so when left to die visibly barely cared for, as a teaching method must not be looked at as unfeeling on her part as it was her greatest sorrow to use them so horribly as means to an end, but they were what she had at hand. Was never her intention to use any money to save them, would negate their very suffering purpose as well. She did not believe we all had learned the lesson yet in her time so she had to pretend to be solving the problem while continuing the problem. You see, the money was a byproduct of no importance to her, used just to get the peoples’ attention by using what they valued, let the Church have it for other things for it had served it’s purpose by bringing her sought after awareness of the poor & dying into view. In pretending to like & accept attention to herself, honors, & even challenges to these choices, all for one purpose to fool, to get the poor & dying attention, is why she was so distressed near the end by the means she had to use to reach that end! And perhaps her sheer loss of hope at having to stoop to such measures which reflects on the sad state of the rest of us. Wondering here where the money went doesn’t understand anything of what she was trying to do. [C]: Thank You Naa Ayele Kumari for plowing through my thoughts enough to ‘like’ even! Could I be understood that Mother Theresa’s intentions were ‘higher’ than just taking care of the poor & dying in institutions, but to have the people understand there should be ‘feelings’ for them so they would never ever even have to be cared for in such ‘style’? She sacrificed these many nonpeaceful deaths to display, to show, to the whole world the direction it was heading, for the saving of the future multitudes of suffering & deaths if no one understood & cared soon. She dreamed these future lives would be right & good & their deaths would be the same attended by loved ones of their own, no need for group interference. She did not wish to just contain such tragedy, but to eliminate it from the whole earth forever. In the smaller scale view of some today the institutions are a necessary step, however Mother Theresa thought this a false step on a horrible path in the wrong direction, & she knew this, & dreamed beyond! To send away, to cage, the suffering, old, & sick in any society is a crime against Mother Nature no matter what the excuses or how pretty the packaged institution is presented! [Z] Did not foresee the discussion would provoke such indepth and rich responses. It feels that we are getting close to the bottom of the matter that has not been brought up for so long, not in my life time. Profound interactions that make us aware of the aspects of how our thinking and living can be based on the kind of values we hold. I treat each and all of you in the hand of our goddesses. Anne Wilkerson Allen: I think the Mother always moves us back toward compassion. Whether we have a sense of deity or not, we can all understand contextually how she was used and that her “beliefs” left her with such poverty of spirit that her entire life is under the microscope. I wonder, will the media ask what the Church has done with all their Billions or simply focus on a dead nun indoctrinated by the system? Diane Horton: No, I am sorry. [C], that is an incredible rationalization of Mother Teresa’s actions. Unbelievable actually. For you to justify her not using the extraordinary amount of money sent to her by saying that she chose to use these horrible deaths to bring attention to the sick and the dying and evoke compassion in people – that is the most megalomaniac position possible! Did she assume the role of God then?? That is outrageous! To think that she had the means to relieve these poor people’s sufferings and chose not to in order to USE them is even more heinous to me! I cannot wrap my head around how you think that is a good thing. She already HAD evoked compassion for these people. That’s why the money poured in! And all the “pretending” and lying you said she did for the greater good? NO. Compassion and empathy are a basic human response to suffering. “She sacrificed these nonpeaceful deaths” REALLY?! She had no right. And she was wrong. I can see no lofty ideal she was displaying there. Diane Horton: Forgive, me. I could not let what was said there lie. I won’t say anymore. Everyone has their own perspective. And each perspective together makes the whole. Blessed Be. [C]: On this […]
(Special Post) Why I choose to be an RTM contributor by Glenys Livingstone

The contribution of my writing to Return to Mago E-Magazine has evolved since it began four years ago, into a deeply mutually enhancing relationship. The time and effort taken to write carefully and in alignment with my heartfelt passions and insights, and then to be able to publish to a receptive audience, has always been rewarding – for me personally and apparently for many who received it.
(Special Post 5) Why Goddess Feminism, Activism, or Spirituality? A Collective Writing

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

Beltaine/High Spring within the Creative Cosmos by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an edited excerpt from Chapter 8 of the author’s new book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. Traditionally the dates for Beltaine/High Spring are: Southern Hemisphere – October 31st or 1st November Northern Hemisphere – April 30th (May Eve) or 1st May though the actual astronomical date varies. It is the meridian point or cross-quarter day between Spring Equinox and Summer Solstice, thus actually a little later in early November for S.H., and early May for N.H., respectively. The twin fires lit in older times on hilltops in Ireland for Beltaine likely represented the two eyes of night and day.[i] With this vision, Goddess as Sun and Moon sees Her Land, and with the power of Her eyes (Sun and Moon) brings forth life and beauty. With the fire eyes, Goddess“reoccupied and saw her whole land…”[ii] The twin fires later came to be used to run cattle between as they headed out to Summer pasture, for the purpose of burning off the bugs and ticks of Winter; the fires may thus be understood to serve a cleansing effect and likely the origins of the tradition of the ceremonial leaping of flames by participants in Beltaine festivities. In PaGaian Cosmology this is poetically expressed as the Flame of Love that burns away the psyche’s “bugs and ticks,” and sees the Beauty present, and calls it forth. The Beltaine flames may be a celebration of Sun entering into the eye, into the whole bodymind: a powerful creative evocation upon which the Dance of Life depends, and as the cleansing power of love and pleasure. PaGaian focus for Beltaine is on the Holy Desire/Passion for life, and it may be accounted for on as many levels as possible … the complete holarchy/dimensions of the erotic power. On an elemental level, there is our desire for Air, Water, the warmth of Fire, and to be of use/service to Earth. There is an essential longing, sometimes nameless, sometimes constellated, experienced physically, that may be recognized as the Desire of the Universe Herself – desiring in us.[iii] We may remember that we are united in this desire with each other, with all who have gone before us, and with all who come after us – all who dance the Dance of Life. Beltaine is a time for dancing and weaving into our lives, our heart’s desires; traditionally the dance is done with participants holding ribbons attached to a pole or tree (a Maypole in the Northern Hemisphere, which may be renamed as a “Novapole” in the Southern Hemisphere), wrapping the pole with the ribbons. This is not simply the heterosexual metaphor as is thought in modern times (thanks largely to Freudian thinking) – it is deeper than that. As Caitlin and John Matthews point out: it is symbolic of a far greater exchange than that between men and women – in fact between the elements themselves. … the maypole, a comparatively recent manifestation in the history of mystery celebrations, can be seen as the linking of heaven and earth, binding those who dance around it … into a pattern of birth, life and death which lay at the heart of the maze of earth mysteries.[iv] Beltaine is a celebration of Desire on all levels – microcosm and on the macrocosm, the exoteric and the esoteric.[v] It brought you forth physically, and it brings forth all that you produce in your life, and it keeps the Cosmos spinning. It is felt in you as Desire, it urges you on. It is the deep awesome dynamic that pervades the Cosmos and brings forth all things – babies, meals, gardens, careers, books and solar systems. We have often been taught, certainly by religious traditions, to pay it as little attention as possible; whereas it should be the cause of much more meditation/attention, tracing it to its deepest place in us. What are our deepest desires beneath our surface desires. What if we enter more deeply into this feeling, this power? It may be a place where the Universe is a deep reciprocity – a receiving and giving that is One. Brian Swimme says, in a whole chapter on “Allurement”: You can examine your own self and your own life with this question: Do I desire to have this pleasure? Or rather, do I desire to become pleasure? The demand to ‘have,’ to possess, always reveals an element of immaturity. To keep, to hold, to control, to own; all of this is fundamentally a delusion, for our own truest desire is to be and to live. We have ripened and matured when we realize that our own deepest desire in erotic attractions is to become pleasure … to enter ecstatically into pleasure so that giving and receiving pleasure become one simple activity. Our most mature hope is to become pleasure’s source and pleasure’s home simultaneously. So it is with the allurements of life: we become beauty to ignite the beauty of others.[vi] Beltaine is a good time to contemplate this animal bodymind that you are: how it seeks real pleasure. What is your real pleasure? Be gracious with this bodymind and in awe of this form, this wonder. Beltaine is also a good time to contemplate light, and its affects on our bodyminds as it enters into us; how our animal bodyminds respond directly to the Sun’s light, which apparently may awaken physical desires. Light vibrates into us – different wavelengths as different colours – and shifts to pulse. It is felt most fully in Springtime (“spring fever”), as light courses down a direct neural line from retina to pineal gland. When the pineal gland receives the light pulse it releases “a cascade of hormones, drenching the body in hunger, thirst, or great desire.”[vii] We respond directly to Sun as an organism: it is primal. NOTES: [i] Michael Dames, Ireland, 195-199. [ii] Ibid., 196. [iii] I have been inspired and informed by Swimme’s articulations about desire, particularly in Canticle to the Cosmos, video 2 “The Primeval Fireball,” video 5 “Destruction and Loss,” and video 10 “The Timing of Creativity.” [iv] Matthews, The Western Way, 54. And for more, see “Creativity …
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) …
Artful Ceremonial Expression by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

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

This essay is an excerpt from Chapter 2 of the author’s new book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. for larger image see: https://pagaian.org/pagaian-wheel-of-the-year/ Essentially a PaGaian Wheel of the Year celebrates Cosmogenesis – the unfolding of the Cosmos, none of which is separate from the unfolding of each unique place/region, and each unique being. This creativity of Cosmogenesis is celebrated through Earth-Sun relationship as it may be expressed and experienced within any region of our Planet. PaGaian ceremony expresses this with Triple Goddess Poetry 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 expressed in the seasons), happens because of Earth’s tilt in relationship with Sun: because this 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,[i] 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.[ii] 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 (as of this writing) 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,[iii] and more recently a site of ongoing ritual activity as old as seventy thousand years has been found.[iv] 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. 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 anyone’s 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.[v]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. In PaGaian Cosmology I have adapted the Wheel as a way of celebrating the Female Metaphor and also as a way of celebrating Cosmogenesis, the Creativity that is present really/actually in every moment, but for which the Seasonal Moments provide a pattern/Poetry over the period of a year – in time and place. The pattern that I unfold is a way in which the three different phases/characteristics interplay. In fact, the way in which they interplay seems infinite, the way they inter-relate is deeply complex. I think it is possible to find many ways to celebrate them. There is nothing concrete about the chosen story/Poetry, nor about each of the scripts presented here, just as there is nothing concrete about the Place of Being – it (She) is always relational, a Dynamic Interchange. Whilst being grounded in the “Real,” the Poetry chosen for expression is therefore at the same time, a potentially infinite expression, according to the heart and mind of the storyteller. NOTES: [i] See Appendix C, *(6), Glenys Livingstone, A Poiesis of the Creative …
(Prose & Photography) Equinox Reflection by Sara Wright

Photography by Sara Wright I gaze out my bedroom window and hear yet another golden apple hit the ground. The vines that hug the cabin and climb up the screens are heavy with unripe grapes and the light that is filtered through the trees in front of the brook is luminous – lime green tipped in gold – My too sensitive eyes are blessedly well protected by this canopy of late summer leaves. The maples on the hill are losing chlorophyll and are painting the hollow with splashes of bittersweet orange and red. The dead spruces by the brook will probably collapse this winter providing Black bears with even more precious ants and larvae to eat in early spring. I only hope that some bears will survive the fall slaughter to return to this black bear sanctuary; in particular two beloved young ones… Mushrooms abound, amanitas, boletes morels, puff balls, the latter two finding their way into my salads. The forest around my house is in an active state of becoming with downed limbs and sprouting fungi becoming next year’s soil. The forest floor smells so sweet that all I can imagine is laying myself down on a bed of mosses to sleep and dream. The garden looks as tired as I am; lily fronds droop, yellowing leaves betraying the season at hand. Bright green pods provide a startling contrast to fading scarlet bee balm. Wild asters are abundant and goldenrod covers the fields with a bright yellow garment. Every wild bush has sprays of berries. My crabapple trees are bowed, each twig heavy with winter fruit. Most of the birds have absconded to the fields that are ripe with the seeds of wild grasses. The mourning doves are an exception – they gather together each dawn waiting patiently for me to fill the feeder. In the evening I am serenaded by soft cooing. One chicken hawk hides in the pine, lying in wait for the unwary…Just a few hummingbirds remain…whirring wings and twittering alert me to continued presence as they settle into the cherry tree to sleep, slipping into a light torpor with these cool September nights… Spiders are spinning their egg cases, even as they prepare to die. I can still find toads hopping around the house during the warmest hours of the day. Although the grass is long I will not mow it for fear of killing these most precious and threatened of species. I am heavily invested in seeing these toads burrow in to see another spring. My little frogs sit on their lily pads seeking the warmth of a dimming afternoon sun. Soon they too will slumber below fallen leaves or mud. I am surrounded by such beauty, and so much harvest bounty that even though I am exhausted I take deep pleasure out of each passing day of this glorious month of September, the month of my birth. Unlike many folks, for me, moving into the dark of the year feels like a blessing. Another leave -taking is almost upon me, and I am having trouble letting go of this small oasis that I have tended with such care for more than thirty years… I don’t know what this winter will bring to my modest cabin whose foundation is crumbling under too much moisture and too many years of heavy snow. In the spring extensive excavation will begin. A new foundation must be poured and this work will destroy the gardens I have loved, the mossy grounds around the south end of the house that I have nurtured for so long. In this season of letting go I must find a way to lay down my fears, and release that which I am powerless to change. Somehow… I have no idea what I will return to except that I have made it clear that none of my beloved trees be harmed. I am grateful that Nature is mirroring back to me so poignantly that letting go is the way through: That this dying can provide a bedrock foundation for another spring birth. As a Daughter of the Earth I lean into ancient wisdom, praying that this exhausted mind and body will be able to follow suit. (Meet Mago Contributor) Sara Wright.
(Mago Almanac Excerpt 5) Introducing the Magoist Calendar by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

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

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

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

Prologue By writing this, I do not intend to defend Mary Daly’s position in any dispute. A controversial figure, Mary Daly never let go of her fight with those whom she thought on the other side of her feminist war. Like anyone else in history, Mary Daly belonged to her time and culture, and I leave her unresolved issues up to her. What I write here is my fond memory of her, whose feminist thought left an indelible mark on my being as well as humanity as a whole. Daly’s contribution remains to be reassessed from the fresh eye of new generations. In the meantime, I begin to speak for my part. Without Mary Daly’s thought, I would not have been in this place where I stand right now. It has empowered me to actualize my dreams to the fullest as a wo/man who was born and raised in Korea but had come from the One Home in origin. I first hear of the hedge school “Have you heard of the hedge school, Hye Sook?” asked Mary. “No, I haven’t heard of it,” I answered. This conversation took place during the conference called the Feminist Hullaballoo held in Santa Fe, New Mexico in 2007. We met there and spent three days as chums. Mary was with another friend, Yvonne Johnson, so the three of us hung out together. It was a very special time for me – I felt as if I were wrapped up in the eye of the storm. (In fact, my life feels so.) At the conference, someone asked me how I came to be invited as a featured speaker. I was among such renowned feminist speakers as Sonia Johnson, Paula Gunn Allen, and Mary Daly herself. They felt like giants to me. I told her that Mary Daly invited me. Mary had asked me if I would like to go and speak at that conference. I did not have an inflated ego. I would not have been hurt if I were not chosen. But I said “Yes” without hesitation. At the time, it felt like another one of the many “outlandish” adventures that I had undertaken throughout my life. In retrospect, however, this was a very special “Yes” to the beginning of my life’s new phase. It was my debut as a radical feminist, so to speak – the first time I spoke to such a large number of radical feminists. Mary sat in the front row and listened to my talk. She nodded her head saying “It was great,” when I finished and came down to sit next to her. Mary was just getting to know my research on Mago in that year; that was what she was referring to. Nonetheless, what mattered to me was not how well I presented my research, but that I managed to do it! The jitters were over! I was returning Home and had just been baptized in public as a Wo/man, the whole being. [This talk was later published in Trivia: Voices of Feminism.] My two dreams When I accepted Mary’s invitation, I was thinking of my two dreams. I am a dream-listener. Or to be more accurate, my dreams have led me through. These dreams with regard to Mary Daly are in fact old; I dreamt them before my arrival in Claremont, California, in 1997. In the first dream, I was in the crowd when Mary spoke to a large audience. The venue was an open plaza and the stage was far away from where I was standing. Then, out of the blue, Mary called my name and asked me to come up to the podium. It sounded like a call to my soul. So I did. Then, she passed the microphone to me. I blacked out, not knowing what to say, and woke up. This dream told me what I lacked, a message to deliver to the world, which I did not have for some years. The second dream was a brief but sweet one. Mary and I were standing in an old-style classroom as co-teachers. The dynamic between us was intimate and enjoyable. Honored and proud, I felt in the presence of my old friends. The classroom was a dream-like space within a dream, as if we were in a time machine! More than two decades have passed since I had those dreams, and now I see that they were indeed self-fulfilling dreams. The first dream was fulfilled through the event of my speech to the Feminist Hullaballoo conference. By then, it was clear that I was going to speak about the topic of Mago, which I had encountered for my Ph.D. dissertation. It was the topic that I had searched for without knowing and I found it. Now I see that it found me! It is the tradition of my ancestors that has beckoned me to come Home. In Mago, I found an anciently originated gynocnetric reality, which encompasses everyone regardless and named it Magoism. Mary and I meet in person The first time I met her in person was in early April of 1999, in Claremont, California. I had been in contact with Mary Daly for about four years before then. We had spoken over the telephone, faxed, and snail-mailed across the Pacific Ocean while I was living in Korea from 1994 to 1997. Mary was invited to speak by the committee of Claremont Colleges programs including the Women’s Studies in Religion Program at Claremont Graduate University, the program I was studying in. In fact, that was the program that Mary had suggested I apply for, and she had written a recommendation letter on my behalf. My first meeting with her is imprinted on my soul, and it feels as fresh as ever. It was an unusually cold spring day in Claremont. It even sprinkled some rain. She was staying at the Claremont Inn, only a couple of blocks away from my dormitory apartment. She had phoned me the day before her arrival. She called me …

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