December 30, 2014October 4, 2019 Mago Work Admin

(Meet Mago Contributor) Sara Wright

Sara is a Jungian therapist, a naturalist, ethologist, ritual artist, animist, and a writer who lives in the western mountains of Maine and writes about animals and plants in Nature, and the relationship between Nature and herself. She has Native American Roots.

I am a naturalist and a writer; I live in a little log cabin in the woods by a brook with two small dogs and two doves. I write stories about the animals and plants that live here on my property in the western mountains of Maine and publish them regularly in my nature column in the local paper. I am also an independent black bear researcher who uses “trust based” research to study the bears that have visited me here. Trust based research/fieldwork allows me to apprentice myself to Nature through any of its individuals if they are willing. I am the student; each species is the teacher. I have Native American roots, which may or may not be why I have dedicated my life to speaking out on behalf of the slaughtered trees, dying plants and disappearing animals. This is the only work that matters to me.

“Over the Edge and Beyond: Journal of a Naturalist”
sarawrightnature.wordpress.com

8 thoughts on “(Meet Mago Contributor) Sara Wright”

Nicola Lilly says:

December 10, 2024 at 10:12 PM

I love this piece. A beautiful reminder of the vision we can hold, to bring back true connection to and love for the land.

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Sara Wright says:

June 11, 2024 at 3:55 AM

Thank you Helen for posting this story today…it took me back to early spring when the snow still lay heavy on the earth… as it turned out this was a pussy willow year and later I not only found a bull dozed clump … others were hidden elsewhere – but this first sighting remains special…

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Kelle ban Dea says:

May 14, 2024 at 3:07 AM

I love this, it spoke deeply to me this morning. Excited to explore more of your work.

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Mary Saracino says:

April 25, 2024 at 6:51 AM

Beautiful essay, Sara!

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JA Burnett says:

February 13, 2024 at 9:59 AM

The Maya and Taino indigenous natives believe that our consciousness has a star form, and that our bodies are here, but that we also…dance in the heavens.
And so, beings have those forms in the sky.

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Donna Jo Snyder says:

April 28, 2022 at 8:10 AM

A poem filled with peace, beauty, and wisdom. Just like the property.

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sara wright says:

June 15, 2021 at 4:24 AM

gosh I don’t have any books of poetry – I just publish poems as they come. I would like to create a book but just haven’t gotten there! Thanks. I can give you my blog address – plenty of poems on there : sarawrightnature.wordpress.com

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salvatoredigiacomo says:

March 5, 2015 at 1:33 AM

hi sara
i’m a literary translator
i live in italy
can i receive your books of poetry?

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The Crow’s Nest by Sara Wright

Photo by Sara Wright Bare tree shadowy veil old snow won’t let go. Beaded Judges shift spring tides hide predators with eyes. Crows reveal old bones… March is the month when crows scream, screeching and mobbing as they soar through indigo skies – their harsh declarations hurt my ears though I know they are mating and nesting. Although crows are as bright as the rest of the Corvids they are also mobsters, bullies who haunt the forest to harass sleeping owls; next month they will be stealing birds’ eggs or killing the songbirds themselves. With three billion birds extinct, their predatory nature might be considered a threat. And unlike most avian species their numbers are not decreasing. Crows will consume virtually anything; carrion is a favorite. And the latter quality, much like their intelligence reveals a more ‘positive’ side because crows strip the flesh from the bones of the dead. But overall, these ‘hooded’ (European terminology) birds are associated with death ‘A murder of crows’ is an apt description. Even new age folks associate them with the presence of the Shadow side of Reality. Women are often described as ‘old crows’ even if age is not a factor, and I believe there is truth behind this description. Patriarchal women, that is women who have rejected their own Motherline for the ‘Power of the Fathers’ fall prey to patriarchal domination, a system that is presently extinguishing the lives of humans and non – human species alike through capitalistic greed and indifference. The effects of this destructive way of life may manifest differently for men and women. Here I focus on women. The astounding absence of compassion, harsh judgments, the use of silence or screaming as a means of control, rigidity, bullying, knifing other women in the back, an unwillingness to wander across the isles, a refusal to examine personal shadow are qualities that reveal the character of ‘crow women’ who often obscure themselves by acting ‘Nice’. That is, until they strike with vengeance. I’ve known too many. Every year when I come round to March I face the dark side of the serpent, as I relive my mother’s absence in my life. I was an unwanted child, and because the mother – daughter bone was broken I floundered, and flounder still while enduring a seasonal spring descent as best as I can. Persephone rises but in my story no mother rejoices at this daughter’s return. As an adult I acquiesced, raged, mourned, and eventually held my mother and myself accountable for damages done. Then I tried to let go and couldn’t. Because I did the necessary work I didn’t know why. Enter the crows who helped enlighten me… Acknowledging the powers of death is important; feeding those powers is not. Once my mother fed the crows… and her mother did too. Now I have a neighbor who feeds her crows too.. years ago I periodically left food for these corvids before I lived here until I understood that by feeding the crows I was repeating an old patriarchal story, one that fuels the serpent who has wrapped itself around the earth four times and is gradually squeezing the life out of our planet (Martin Shaw). We are destroying Our Mother. I will not destroy mine. I continue to search for memories of my mother that are not associated with betrayal, confusion, silence, or loss. To my great surprise there are some and as each one surfaces, I wonder how I could have ‘forgotten’. A poignant example is a brief essay on wildflowers that I wrote for publication in which I ‘re -membered’ that my mother’s love for wildflowers was a gift that she bequeathed to me as a child. Yesterday, to celebrate this bond between us, I bought spring flowers. And remembered a son who once carried a giant stone egg from one side of an island to the other… Old crows are picking the bones… https://www.magoism.net/2014/12/meet-mago-contributor-sara-wright/
(Poem) Little Bear Requiem by Sara Wright

Look up at the star that bears your name. Re-member the story. Once you were loved, treated with deep respect. Your Ancestor Field bore a Bear Goddess, and bears her still. Her visions will guide you. *Lucy was a yearling that was so tame she slept on the grass in front of my house… She lived here this spring and was shot illegally one morning in June by a bear hating neighbor.
The Old Antlered One by Jude Lally

Art by Jude Lally I am a product of the land I was born on. If you were to cut me open you’d find my bones are made from bedrock, my lungs are made of heather and moss and my heart beats in tune with the heartbeat of the old ones. For as long as I can remember I have had conversations with the land. Not a conversation of words, a conversation of sensation, the brush of a crow’s wing, the power of twilight, and the invitation to rest by a familiar tree trunk. These things evolved over the years alongside deep grief in burying relatives in her soil as well as the unbridled joy of experiencing the the body’s familiarity with the beat and tempo of walking an undulating landscape. The squish of bog and star moss islands, a high step through bracken, stepping stones over the stream. Wading through the swimming dance of high grass, following the sheep trails through bouncy clumps of heather and the heart-beating scramble up mountainside scree – these are all sensations that my body remembers. Even though my father’s family are Irish they are also intimate with the land of Western Ireland. I have listened intently to this landscape all my life, sat by the boulders at the edge of the Loch (Lomond) marked by the striations of long gone ice ages and drew my fingers across the rock scars like they were an ancient language. “If myth really was the power of place speaking, then I had to bend my head daily to its murmurs’”— Martin Shaw. Scatterlings. Getting Claimed in the Age of Amnesia A Disappearing Act When I was young my dad used to take us walking up around the local hills up above Loch Lomond, Scotland. Among the stones at the top of Carman Hill I would sit ever so quietly, scrunching up my eyes and in my imagination, I ripped up the roads, made all the cars disappear and with a final blink I removed the houses and the streets. I always wanted to see what this place looked like a long, long time ago. Then I would hold my breath to see if I could see the old ones that I knew used to live here, the ones from the times before the roads and the cars and the houses. Even though I never saw those ancient people, I felt them. I felt the presence of the energies of the land, sensing that these lands were sacred and up by the stones at the top of the hill was a place where this world flowed into the other worlds. Years later I began to see those original people on the move and it took a while to realize that they were following great herds. Probably more years before I realized these herds were reindeer. While studying the Geology of the area at University I came across an article which described the finding of a reindeer antler not too far (as the crow flies) found in glacial moraine unearthed in the building of a railway line. Proof that reindeer really were in the area. Old Antlered One – by Jude Lally This is a story about ‘The Old Antlered One’ as I call her. She is the spiritual bedrock of this place. I encountered her before I knew anything of antlered goddesses or antlered women and at that time my main source of an antlered creature was Herne the Hunter from UK kids programs such as Robin of Sherwood and the Box of Delights. In her essay ‘Elen – Goddess of the Ways’ Caroline Wise recalls: ‘Thinking of Mascen’s dream journey, and my idea that this may connect to shamanic flight, I decided to try an experiment. Not having fly agaric to hand, I induced a method of astral projection and invoked Elen. I visualised myself walking through snow, in a bleak landscape. Soon I was ‘astral travelling’ now above the land and completely in the moment and no longer needing to consciously invoke the images. Looking down I saw a pathway littered with bones and antler. It had the appearance of a simple rail track, laid out on the snow, and I realised that this represented the migratory route of the deer. I was following this track that had seen millions of beasts over millennia. I knew it went back aeons, before the Ice age, a memory that was in our genes and in the land itself. The bones and antlers represented the ancestors of the beasts who still, where they could, walked these paths today. I was ‘told’ that these were the ‘oldest pathways in the world’. I felt a huge rush of energy, and the path suddenly rose up, looped out and back on itself, and the bones and antlers formed into a skeleton of a giant elk, rearing up in front of me. It twisted around and started to move forward. This was so dramatic that I snapped back form my astral journey, much to my frustration – if I had stayed with it, I am sure it would led me to discover more. I have never been able retrace that track! While meeting a great elk figure was the end of that story for Caroline, meeting a great skeletal figure is where my story begins. Irish Elk My first experience with the Old Antlered One was meeting a huge skeletal figure. I knew she wasn’t an elk as she was female and her tall branching antlers pointed towards a link to reindeer as they are the only cervids with antlers. The Old Antlered One One night, under a dark moon, with the invitation of the the the rhythmic heartbeat of the drum I sank down. Down into the earth, through many layers holding the bones of ancestors, both human and animal. There in the darkness of that place between the worlds, I emerged at the top of the mountain. In that magical place …
(Book Excerpt 4) Willendorf’s Legacy: The Sacred Body edited by Trista Hendren, Tamara Albanna, and Pat Daly

“The Goddess of Willendorf and Does My Uterus Make Me Look Fat?” by Molly Remer “Loving, knowing, and respecting our bodies is a powerful and invincible act of rebellion in this society.” -Inga Muscio I do not remember the first time I ever saw her, but I do know that I have loved the Goddess of Willendorf sculpture for many years. When someone uses the phrase, “Great Goddess” or “Great Mother,” she’s the figure I see. To me, she honors the female form. I love her full-figure and the fact that she is not “perfect” or beautiful. I love that she is not pregnant[1] and what I like best is that she is complete unto herself. She is a complete form, not just a headless pregnant belly. She represents a deep, ancient power to me. Ancient goddess figures are commonly and frustratingly described as “fertility figures” or as pregnant, but most of the early sculptures do not actually appear pregnant to me, rather they are simply full-figured. One of the things I love about the Willendorf Goddess is her air of self-possession. She is complete unto herself. She may be a fertile figure, but she is not clearly pregnant and she does not have a baby in her arms, which indicates that her value was not exclusively in the maternal role. Early goddess figurines are usually portrayed alone, it is only later that we see the addition of the baby figure at the mother’s breast or in her arms. Logic would indicate that if ancient figures were indeed fertility figures, the presence of a baby would actually be more indicative of fertility than a large-breasted woman is, particularly since pregnancy itself, notably in ancient times, is not a guarantee of a live baby or of the generativity babies represent. “…to associate the goddess with ‘fertility’, and even ‘earth mother’, again limits the image of woman to a fertile mother – the creature the patriarchal male created, his baby-making machine. What’s happening with all these descriptions is that the goddess is being limited to areas where women, in the patriarchal male-seed era, were confined. There seems to be a patriarchal veil of prejudice preventing the goddesses being seen as the source of wisdom, magic, fate, inspiration, change and spirituality – none of which need have anything to do with having babies, or making plants grow. Yes, women have babies, but that’s not all they do, or are.” –Julia Stonehouse, Father’s Seed, Mother’s Sorrow The earliest known goddess figures are independent of specifically maternal imagery, it is only later that we begin to see Goddess defined in relationship to children or as exclusively maternal. I think this reflects a shift that women continue to struggle with today, in Goddess religion as well as personal life, with the mother role seen as exhaustive or exclusive. In contemporary society, the only mainstream representation of the Goddess that manages to survive under public recognition is the Madonna and Child—and here, not only has Goddess been completely subsumed by her offspring, she is no longer even recognized as truly divine. The Willendorf Goddess has been a potent affirmation for me many times in my life. One Mother’s Day, my then four-year-old son found a little green aventurine Goddess of Willendorf at a local rock shop: “We have GOT to get this for Mom!” he told my husband and they surprised me with it that afternoon. It still makes me get a little teary to look at it, because it was such a beautiful moment of feeling seen and acknowledged by my little child. When I found out I was pregnant for the third time, my husband surprised me with a beautiful Goddess of Willendorf pendant. I was holding onto that pendant during the ultrasound that told us that our third son no longer had a heartbeat. During my labor with my little non-living baby, I wore and held onto the pendant. It went with me to the emergency room and I could feel the solid, reassuring weight of her against my chest when dressed in a hospital gown, IV fluids moving into my arm, while blood continued to spill from me as my body said goodbye to my baby. I buried a Goddess of Willendorf bead with my baby’s body and put a matching one on his memorial necklace. On Mother’s Day the following year, right after finding out I was pregnant with my rainbow baby girl, my husband gave me a beautiful new Goddess of Willendorf ring. I was little scared to wear it, because what if the ring too, became a sad reminder of a pregnancy lost, but wear it I did—up to and through the moment when I caught my sweet little living girl in my own grateful, be-ringed hands. The website from which the ring was purchased disappeared— and I didn’t see another ring like it until when I was on the phone making a wholesale order from Wellstone Jewelry requesting one of their Venus of Lespugue pendants. The woman on the phone told me, “We don’t sell very many of those. She seems to make people uncomfortable. In fact, we used to make a ring too. A Venus of Willendorf ring, but no one ever wanted her. I think because she is ‘too fat’ and she makes people feel weird.” Oh my goodness, I replied, I think I have one of your rings! I emailed her a picture of my hand and sure enough, though discontinued, I’d coincidentally gotten one of the last of the rings ever made. What does this have to do with my uterus making me look fat? Well, I’ve had the experience of wearing my ring and having another woman, a wonderful, peaceful, gifted, gentle healer of a woman, laugh at it, like it was a joke ring. My mom sold a pottery sculpture version of the Willendorf to a man at a class and he laughed at this wonderful image as well, saying, “this is hilarious.” Hilarious? …
(Prose) A Gift from The Goddess by Luna Anna

Goku in his every day magnificence How many of us have got through life purely because we had a pet, a familiar by our side? I never really considered my pets to be gifts from Her and then there was Goku. Goku is my rescue cat. As the saying goes, he rescued me…. It was a dark time in my life when my gift arrived. My dad had died and my familiar, my cat Satoshi had also died. I was in an abusive relationship. I had financial troubles as I was too sick to work full-time and was being drained by my relationship. I had begun a path with the Goddess central to my life. I had awakened and was having guidance and shifts that came through Her. I suppose I was beginning my life of service to Her but didn’t know it at the time. Less than one week out of hospital, having had a breakdown, I was gifted a semi-feral kitten named Goku. The name comes from an anime where Goku is earths fiercest warrior and he certainly lived up to his name. I have the scars to prove it. As soon as this tiny five-week-old kitten was passed to me to care for, he said to me telepathically “Hello, I’m here to teach you about death.” Death. Not my favourite subject to be ‘taught’. That night, Goku was unwell, and needed vet care. At the emergency vets, the vet told us “He might die.” The words still ring through me five years later because for the entirety of his life, he has been at the edge of death with an incurable virus that requires close monitoring and if left unchecked can be fatal. Indeed, for two years, it was nearly fatal. He spent his time in and out of specialist vets who all agreed they had never seen anything so severe. Every day was a conscious decision whether to carry on or put him to sleep. These are not decisions you can take lightly. You know you are the custodian. You know you are borrowing them from Her. You know you must honour their choice, no matter how devastating that might be to you. Still, he chose life, and I chose him. I loved him more than I’ve ever loved any pet. The cleverness of this. I could see how She had made him into exactly the kind of cat I would fall for. Exactly the kind of cat, I would fight for. Exactly the kind of cat, I would live for. I devoted my life to keeping his life going. Oh, She planned it alright. She planned that I would break my heart open time again for him. Eventually I fled my old life and took him with me. She knew I would save him before I saved myself, so She brought him to me with the mission to do just that. We left together, once again, close to death. It was the start of the pandemic, and we didn’t know how we would survive. Slowly, he got better and just as we always dance together – I got sick. I had the worst breakdown I’ve ever had. Now, I was the one close to death and he was the one fighting to keep me alive. We clung to each other. He began his work as my therapy cat. He was bossy and demanding. I was exhausted and traumatised. He was insistent that I get up, get washed and dressed, eat, drink and that I move to play with him. He gave me a reason and he was such a high intensity cat, that he was able to organise the household and hold me through all the trials that came my way. Coming out of the deep fog of trauma, I looked at the beauty of him. She had made him exquisitely. The precision of Her brushstrokes to create such a creature with black smoke, charcoal streaks and soft white fine fur that blew in the wind like feathers on angel’s wings. His slow blinking green eyes staring up at me, I marvelled at how She comes up with these things. He fit my arms perfectly despite being a huge cat. His neck slotted into the creek of my elbow neatly. His paws are just the right length to wrap around my neck and his face the exact placement to give me kisses on my cheek. The wonder of the accuracy of it all, hit me. “You are the most beautiful cat in the world.” I’d tell him. “I love you so much. You are my best baby boy cat.” Love would pour out of me. Having lived a life of abuse, it was the first time my love could run free, and I would gush over him. He healed me. I healed him. We were a team. My most favourite team ever. Only Goddess could have known the recipe for this. Only She who knows all, sees all and is all, could bring this deep soul bond into being with such ease. As I write this, Goku is on the path to death. I’m bracing myself for his return to Her. I find myself pleading for him to stay with me, but I know I only ever borrowed him. He belongs to Her, not me. My lesson in death is just beginning as his life is ending – that dance again. What a gift. She, the creator of all things, gave me the greatest gift of all. And I am so thankful for that. https://www.magoism.net/2023/11/meet-mago-contributor-luna-anna/
(Poem) ice ages by Barbara Mor

we walk in the ice age. our hairy bodies alive among rock foreheads, subliminal animals of snow. colors of caves leak thru buildings, the skin’s murals unfaded, with elk leaping over the wrist, bison in the corner of the eye. down this street, the mastodon and tiger, their eyes glint as blue windows, a luxury in their glacial paws descending slopes and eons of winter. sexual caves, with moss and oil, and a soft nakedness of dancing. women of lightning discover fire, heat. those who bleed etch the moon on bone. wind howls in a bear’s mouth, the snow falls everywhere. someone crouches alone and dreams of earth as a white body, wounded with vulvas, that are not sad but miraculous. everywhere one looks, the deer, the bison, the wolf, the tiger, the dreamer also, are walking, shining, out of red wounds in the snow. https://www.magoism.net/2014/02/meet-mago-contributor-barbara-mor/
(Poem) Earth Rises Again by Sara Wright

Photo by Sara Wright A horizon belching sooty smoke pollutes once pure air pressing invisible particles, ozone into granite – lichen covered mountains – plant/animal lungs are coated in filth just as ours are. Death hangs over a leaden sky, the sweet scent of moisture is absent. Tomorrow’s bitter orange sunrise signals what many still refuse to believe: The Earth is on Fire. Those of us capable of Love – Animals, plants, Humans, who suffer, those who fought for justice continue to grieve in a Silence impossible to break. Change, if it comes at all will come too late. Humans have had 40 years to prepare… The age of the Anthropocene will not survive a species gone insane. Although my poem ends here there is a part of me that projects my heartbreak and rage onto the planet hoping for retribution: Earth weeps even as S/he prepares to redress imbalances. Hell has no fury like this ‘Mother’s’ scorn. Beware. “On Monday the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, a scientific body convened by the United Nations, released a major new report concluding that the world cannot avoid some devastating impacts of climate change.” The New York Times 8/9/21 The best we can do is to mitigate the extremes ahead; we can expect raging fires, intolerable heat, flooding, cyclones, tornados, melting glaciers, droughts and other natural disasters to change the face of the earth for at least another 30 years even IF humans are capable of reducing our carbon emissions at all. Tree deforestation is responsible for 20 percent of our present carbon emissions. The remainder is due to the use of fossil fuels, big industry, agribusiness, trucks, cars, flying planes, burning wood or pellets, running air conditioners, etc. etc. There is no doubt left. Man is the culprit of this natural holocaust, and if we are people we are all culpable. So much for human hubris. Like Icarus, a few powerful men flew too close to the sun, and now, as a result of egregious actions and our complicity we all begin to fall… Afterward: The Power of Dreams… Roughly two year ago I entered a dream that was so vivid that I still feel as if I lived through it. I had a small clear bubble in the palm of my hand; it was wrapped in plastic. When I removed the cover and opened the sphere I saw to my astonishment a tiny ark that was overflowing with animals, trees, every conceivable living being and there was so much green. I was overjoyed. This was the Earth! Life would go on. It was only afterwards that I realized there were no humans to be seen… (Meet Mago Contributor) Sara Wright https://www.magoism.net/2014/12/meet-mago-contributor-sara-wright/
(Essay 1) blackbird and a pear tree by Lucia Chiavola Birnbaum

A family story told in art, names, places, denied cultures, black and sensual madonnas, diversity of beliefs, visionary and healing Santa Lucia of Sicily A note on style: the text in this essay reflects the author’s preference for downcasing, a decision based on her dislike for capitalization, which, as a cultural historian, she views as a custom that perpetuates the hierarchy of nation states and dominant cultures in the modern era. In that regard, typically proper nouns are capitalized and words that are used as adjectives are written in lower case. Preface My eldest grandson Josh gifted our Birnbaum family with a September 2014 trip to Sicily in the African Mediterranean. As a feminist cultural historian, I have spent the latter part of my life exploring Sicily—ancestrally part of the mother continent Africa embracing Asia and Europe (see all my books, especially my Future Has an Ancient Heart. Legacy of sharing, healing, and vision from the primordial African Mediterranean to occupy everywhere. iUniverse 2012. Rev. ed., 2013).
(Poem) Sleeping Lady Has an MRI Scan by Abigail Ardelle Zammit

Photo by Abigail Ardelle Zammit These perfectly poised atoms do not require your artificial excitation. Not when my temple is breathless with homo erectus quivering to test his quill. Too late to channel myself for the play of magnetic fields. My womb glows like the night sky. These waning moons on which you’ll have me lie! Let me deck myself in tarnished bronze before I squeeze my breasts into your plastic embrace. I shan’t need your torpid skies, rude fuchsia and sickly lime. No! You won’t foretell my most likely demise, how long I’ll last on shifting cells or whether the minutest big bang will shatter me to snippets of myself. I’ve lived six thousand years without surmises. Spiralling ceilings don’t hold the future though every fragment of crumbling limestone hoards a blueprint of my curves. [Author’s Note These poems are from the sequence You May Touch If You Like, published in Portrait of a Woman with Sea Urchin (SPM: London, 2015), which was the second prize winner of the Sentinel Poetry Book Competition. The Maltese Venus is a fertility Goddess variously known as ‘The Sleeping Lady’ and ‘The Fat Lady’, statues and figurines of which have been found in many Maltese Neolithic temples, amongst which, the Hypogeum of Ħal-Saflieni, a sanctuary and necropolis located in Paola, the earliest remains of which date back to 4000BC. You may read the whole Goddess sequence, as well as other poems set in Malta during WWII by purchasing the collection online: https://abigailardellezammit.net/poetry-books/] https://www.magoism.net/2023/05/meet-mago-contributor-abigail-ardelle-zammit/

(Special post) The Goddess Inanna: Her Allies and Opponents by Hearth Moon Rising

Inanna’s Descent to the Underworld is one of the most fascinating myths ever told. Not just because it is profound and enlightening, although it is certainly that. It’s an exciting journey that ignites the imagination, and female characters are at the hub of the action. This is a tale of power: power that is demanded, power that is won, power that is appropriated, and power that cannot be escaped. The story follows the fertility goddess Inanna, who brought civilization to Mesopotamia, as she seeks to expand her realm by venturing into the world below. Inanna’s experiences in the great below, her escape, and the wild events that unfold as a result of her caper are the focus of the tale.
(Special Post Mother Teresa 4) A Role Model for Women? by Mago Circle Members

Part IV: Illumination and Consensus Reached [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.] Diane Horton: [C], how is it that you do not see that MT had no right to sacrifice other people for any purpose whatsoever? None of us have the right or the place to “sacrifice those we care about” for anything. She was not “above them”. And she had abundant means to do far more for them, to cure and comfort them. If indeed she imagined she had some lofty motivation as you so fervently believe, to use the power she had to withhold medical care from the poverty stricken sick and dying in some misguided and ultimately cruel attempt to bring the world’s attention to their suffering and produce compassion within those who would not otherwise feel it is the most monstrous miscarriage of any expression of what you might refer to as “love” that I have heard of outside of Jim Jones killing all of his followers in Ghana. That’s not Love. That’s not Compassion. That is Manipulation, and manipulation is ego-based. Anne Wilkerson Allen: Yes. It is an indoctrination so deep and so prolonged that it takes a lifetime to overcome…and we rely on the love and compassion of others to help bring us to this understanding….thanks, Diane. Diane Horton: Love you, Anne. [C]: Is thinking that any human being sacrificing inside their very soul, their morals, & all that entails, is actually of lesser value than outside human pain, suffering, even death itself, right? Diane Horton: I’m not sure I understand the question really, but I’ll try a response: one’s inner and outer life are of equal importance because they are all the whole person.
(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.

Imbolc: Through Goddess Eyes by Carolyn Lee Boyd

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

Traditionally the Seasonal transition of Imbolc/Early Spring, celebrated in early February in the Northern Hemisphere, and in early August in the Southern Hemisphere, has been a time of nurturing the new life that is beginning to show itself, around us and within. It is a time of committing one’s self to the new life and inspiration – in the garden, in the soul, and in the Cosmos. We may include in our celebrations and contemplations of this Season the beginnings of the new young Cosmos as She was, that time in our cosmic story when She was only a billion years old and galaxies were forming; and also the new which has continually emerged throughout the eons, and is ever coming forth. The flame of being, as it has been imagined by many cultures, within and around, is to be protected and nurtured: the new being requires dedication and attention. In the early stages of its advent, there is nothing certain about its staying power and growth: it may flicker and be vulnerable. There may be uncertainties of various kinds. There is risk and resistance to coming into being. The Universe itself knew resistance to its expansion when it encountered gravitation in our very beginnings, in the primordial Flaring Forth[i]. The unfolding of the Universe was never without creative tension. The Universe knows it daily, in every moment: and we participate in this creative tension of our place of being. Urge to Be budding forth Imbolc/Early Spring can be a time of remembering personal vulnerabilities, feeling them and accepting them, but remaining resolute in birthing and tending of the new, listening for and responding to the Urge to Be[ii]of the Creative Universe within. Brian Swimme has said (quoting cultural anthropologist A.L. Kroeber) that the destiny of the human is not “bovine placidity” but the highest degree of tension that can be creatively born[iii]. many flames of being, strengthening each other These times are filled with creative tension, collectively and for most, personally as well; there is much resistance, yet there is promise of so much good energy arising. We may be witness to both. This Season of Imbolc/Early Spring may encourage attention, intention and dedication to strengthening well-being: in self, and in the relational communal context, and opening to our direct immersion in the Well of Creativity. We may be strengthened with the joining of hands, as well as the listening within to the sacred depths, in ceremonial circle at this time. NOTES: [i]As our origins (popularly named as “the Big Bang”) are named by Thomas Berry and Brian Swimme in The Universe Story. [ii]As I name this determined Virgin quality in PaGaian Cosmology. [iii]The Canticle to the Cosmos, DVD #8, “The Nature of the Human”. References: Livingstone, Glenys. PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion. NE: iUniverse, 2005. Swimme, Brian and Berry, Thomas. The Universe Story: From the Primordial Flaring Forth to the Ecozoic Era. New York: HarperCollins, 1992. Swimme, Brian. Canticle to the Cosmos. DVD series, 1990.
(Music) Songs for Samhain by Alison Newvine

The season of Samhain is upon us. This playlist is an offering for this descent into the sacred darkness, and a companion for the journey into the underworld. Invocation of Witches features music by Loreena McKennitt, Marya Stark, Inkubus Sukubus, Wendy Rule, my band Spiral Muse, and many others. It is a soundtrack for ceremony and each song expresses a different face of the spirit of the witch. May this Samhain season guide you gently into the dissolution of what no longer serves, the honoring of what is complete and the cultivation of the inner space that will gestate what is yet to come. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2CFNoH9exhloz3w95P3Rlb?si=270cf01fabb8421c https://www.magoism.net/2023/10/meet-mago-contributor-alison-newvine/
(Mago Almanac Excerpt 7) Introducing the Magoist Calendar by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

Mago Almanac: 13 Month 28 Day Calendar (Book A) at Mago Bookstore. YEARLY LEAP DAY AND EVERY FOURTH YEAR LEAP DAY Each Sa includes a Dan of the big Sa. A Dan is equal to one day. That adds to 365 days. At the half point of the third Sa, there is a Pan of the big Sak (the year of the great dark moon). A Pan comes at a half point of Sa. This is of Beopsu (Lawful Number) 2, 5, 8. A Pan is equal to a day. Therefore, the fourth Sa has 366 days. Each year has a leap day (Dan), which makes a total of 365 days. Every fourth year is a leap year that has a leap day (Pan), which makes a total of 366 days. The Dan day comes before the New Year in the winter solstice month. And the Pan day comes before the first day of the summer solstice month in the fourth year. The above, however, does not indicate when the New Year comes. Logographic characters of Dan and Pan each suggest their meanings. While each year includes the Dan day (the morning), every fourth year has the Pan day. A unit of four years makes the Big Calendar. Dan (旦 Morning) Leap day for every first three years Pan (昄 Big) Leap day for every fourth year I have postulated that the year begins on the Dan day (one leap day), a day before New Year that comes in the month of Winter Solstice in the Norther Hemisphere. And the Pan day comes on the day before the first day of the 7th month that has Summer Solstice in the fourth year in the Norther Hemisphere. Years Year 1 Year 2 Year 3 Year 4 Months Dan Dan Dan Dan 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 5 5 5 5 6 6 6 6 Pan 7 7 7 7 8 8 8 8 9 9 9 9 10 10 10 10 11 11 11 11 12 12 12 12 13 13 13 13 Days 365 365 365 366 The Magoist Calendar’s intercalation involves one leap day every year and one leap day every four years. That is, each year has one extra day to make it 365 days. Every fourth year has an extra day to make it 366 days. Four years has a total of 1461 days (365×3+366), which makes the mean of 365.25 days. Considering that the month is following the sidereal period rather than the synodic period, it is inferred that the year also follows the sidereal year rather than the solar year. In fact, Magoist Calendar’s one year is very close to today’s 365.25636 days of the sidereal year compared to 365.24217 days of the solar year or the tropical year. Given that, as seen below, the Budoji mentions the tiniest discrepancy of one leap day for 31,788,900 years, the discrepancy between 365.25 and 365.25636 (0.00636 day) can be explained that the year was actually 365.25 days at the time of Budo circa 2333 BCE, 4440 years ago. In other words, there is a discrepancy of 0.12375936 seconds between 2017 CE and 2333 BCE. Regarding Lawful Numbers 2, 5, 8, it is involved as follows: 365 days (3+6+5=14, 1+4=5) Lawful Numbers 2, 5, 8 refers the unit of 365 days (364 days with one intercalary day). Further dynamics are unknown. The sidereal year refers to the time taken by the Earth to orbit the sun once with respect to the distant stars. In contrast, the solar or tropical year means the time taken by the Earth to orbit the sun once with respect to the sun. The sidereal year, 365.25636 days, is about 20 minutes and 24 seconds longer than the mean tropical year (365.24217 days) and about 19 minutes and 57 seconds longer than the average Gregorian year of 365.2425 days. The difference occurs primarily because the solar system spins on its own axis and around the Milky Way galactic center making the solar year’s observed position relative. Time is no independent concept apart from space and the agent. The very concept of time is preceded by the agent bound in a space. It is always contextualized. In Magoism, both calendar and time are born out of the cosmogonic universe, the universe that is in self-creation. Like calendar, time is to be discovered or measured. It is a numinous concept. The very concept of time testifies to the reality of the Creatrix. Time proves the orderly movement of the universe into which we are born. Calendar patterns time, whereas time undergirds calendar. How can we measure time? We are given the time of the Earth that comes from its rotation, revolution, and precession in sync with the moon and the sun (and its planets). One type of time is the solar time. The solar time is a calculation of time based on the position of the sun. Traditionally, the solar time is measured by the sundial. The solar time is, however, specific to the Earth only. It is valid only for the-same-observed-location. It is not made to be used for the time of another celestial body. For example, Mars’ solar time has to be measured independently based on its own rotation and revolution rates. The solar time is an isolated time. It is static and exclusive, not made for the time of other celestial bodies. By nature, it is unfit for connection and communication across celestial bodies. The second type is the sidereal time. The sidereal time is a time scale based on the rate of Earth’s rotations measured relative to the distant stars.[29] Because the observed position is in the far distant stars beyond the solar system, the sidereal time may as well be called an extrasolar stellar time. We can think of the observer’s position of an imaginary cosmic bird far out there, infinitely far beyond not only the solar system and …
(Poetry & Photo Essay) Pongal by Susan Hawthorne

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

(2018 Mago Pilgrimage) Peak of Nine Wells in Yeongam (Spiritual Rock), South Jeolla by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D.

[Author’s Note: This essay comprises a summary report and its unfolding awakenings to be unraveled in sequences. I dedicate this essay to my 2018 Mago Pilgrimage companions, Narayani Ankh, Kate Besleme, Hyunsuk Jee, and Julie Jang. Learn more about Mago Pilgrimage.] Hike Report The town, Yeong-am (Spirit Rock), emanates an aura from its Magoist natural, historical, and cultural legacies. Among them, what grabbed my attention include Wolchul-san (月出山 Moon Rising Mountain), Dogap-sa (Dogap Temple), and Gurim Village, known for the birth place of Doseon Guksa (State Master Doseon), a prominent Buddhist monk, the 9th century of Silla (827-898). I was most attracted to the Peak of Nine Wells (九井峰 Gujeong-bong) as well as the Loom Cave shaped in the form of a vulva, part of the Moon Rising Mountain ranges. Our goal was to hike the Peak of Nine Wells (hereafter Gujeong-bong). We took the seemingly shortest trail, through Cheonwang-bong (Peak of Heavenly Ruler), the highest peak of Moon Rising Mountain, 809 km above sea level. It took about 8 hours for the entire hike took about 8 hours and it was one of the two most strenuous and significant ones that I have taken. About 30 years ago, I climbed Mt. Halla in Jeju Island and had received the vision of my life. No longer a youth, I had a much clearer vision about my life and the act of high altitude hiking this time. With my two companions, Narayani Ankh and Kate Besleme, who showed no sign of hesitation or tiredness in the beginning and throughout the course, I embarked my day’s journey. With occasional breaks, we were able gain distance and progress. Beautiful streams adorned the valley. Rocks were emitting the oldest song of the earth. Our talks continued and deepened, when we had breath to spare. It was such a blessing that I had these two co-hikers from elsewhere! My mind zoomed in and worked in detail. All thinking and feeling became registered. Impromptu, I began to count my steps up on stiff wooden stairways. My counting one, two, three… and thirteen carried me to the top of the stairs. The 13 counting chant worked; There was no medium between me and WE/HERE/NOW. We were gifted a 360-degree bird’s eye view on Cheongwang-bong. Several ridges with the depth of Magoist history came within a vision. We took a small lunch break. On a high mountain top wherein all remains visibly related, everyone becomes kin. On Cheongwang-gong, we were instructed by the rangers we met along the journey about the ridge path to Gujeong-bong. Gujeong-bong would be about another one and half hour hike away from us. We passed by a few masses of gigantic boulder formations for which Wolchul-san is known for. Among them was the standing stone called the Phallic Rock, a name that I suspected to be original. For standing stones are called the Rock of Mago Halmi in other regions of Korea. In any case, the very existence of the Phallic Rock (남근바위 Namgeun Bawi) heralded the appearance of the Loom Cave, a misnomer for the Yoni Cave (여근바위 Yeogeun Bawi). Heart beatings escalated as we approached our destination. We finally reached the Loom Cave, which closely resembled the vulva. The cave was made of a huge boulder, three times taller than an average person in size. A small pond sat inside the entrance made the cave a real yoni of nature. I was pulled into the state of trance, as we made a final climb up the stairs around the left side of the Loom Cave. I was able to see that the Peak of Nine Wells is located on the top plain of the Loom Cave. It is part of the yoni cave! I saw a number of wells pocketed in various sizes of ponds. They numbered more than nine, about 13, variable in number in that a couple of them were made in between adjacent boulders. The biggest well was larger than one meter (3.3 feet) in diameter. Moderns do their typical things in a time like this, indeed odd out of other options or necessity to share with others: I took photos of the wells and my companions, which were absolutely beautiful as they were. However, mental imprints were not able to be contained then and in nature. WE/HERE/NOW embraced all on the spot, perhaps like a black hole. Casual conversations wouldn’t continue. The silence and the oneness fast permeated our time/space. Our minds worked on layers. The deepest mind was stored in the reservoir of the unspoken. Descending is good as a time/space of tuning/balancing oneself to the power of WE/HERE/NOW. There wasn’t much time left for us to return, while the sun was still out. We hurriedly descended a different tail. I was no longer the same person I was prior to the experience of hiking Gujeong-bong. No need to dig up and count the number of branches in one’s root. To live means to grow and evolve, as we are meant to be. To be continued. (Meet Mago Contributor) Helen Hye-Sook Hwang.
(Bell Essay 2) Ancient Korean Bells and Magoism by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

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