December 6, 2016October 2, 2019 RTM Editors

Hearth Moon Rising

Hearth Moon Rising is a Dianic Priestess living in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York. She blends goddess magic and folklore in her blog, http://hearthmoonblog.com/.

She is the author of Invoking Animal Magic: A guide for the Pagan priestess. http://invokinganimalmagic.com.

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(Meet Mago Contributor) Peter Wilkes

As the son of an Episcopal minister, Peter Wilkes had a first-hand look at the inner workings of organized Religion (with a capital “R”) throughout his upbringing. Now seventy years of age he has reached the conclusion that this institution, like many others, has continually done more harm than good. In A Woman Called God, the first in his series of Little books for Big people™, he goes back to the source and examines how it’s possible to leave the institution of Religion behind and reclaim your soul. Peter always welcomes intelligent discussion on the subjects he writes about and can be reached at www.awomancalledgod.com.
(Art poem) Ing’s Ride by Ingrid Andrew

I am Ingrid. I am Ing’s ride. I ride the chariots of Spring. I scatter petals in my wake; and gather birds, and throw them on the wing. I am the herald of the growing light. I am the waker of the seeds; I am the heart of life on earth. I ride the fields and surf the wild and gentle winds. I blow the beauty of the earth into your eyes; I plant the seeds of beauty in your heart, I give these seeds a name, I call them yearning; I am here at the worlds turning, turning. Longing is what I call these seeds, I love the wild flowers and the weeds. I am the fierce and fertile mother, of all the universe I am one lover. I am Ing’s ride, I am the harbinger of Spring; I ride the chariots of Spring. And when’s man reign is over with and done; in some far future millennium, I will arise again in a sweet breeze and scatter petals through the trees, and gently wake the sleeping seeds, for I am Ing’s ride, I am Ingrid; I ride the chariots of Spring. © IDF Andrew Ingridandrew.wordpress.com Read Meet Mago Contributor Ingrid Andrew.
The Dance of Clutha by Jude Lally

River Clyde by K Mackenzie, used with permission I grew up on the banks of the river Clyde, or more specifically, where the river Leven joins the Clyde. This place is marked by the unmissable landmark of the great Dumbarton Rock, the plug of an ancient volcano stretching 240 feet (73 m) high. It is here that the waters from Loch Lomond make their way down the fast flowing Leven and join the Clyde. Dumbarton Castle, perched on Dumbarton Rock was once the ancient capital of Strathclyde. It has seen sieges from Picts, Romans and Vikings, Dukes, Earls and Kings – but it’s a time preceding all of them that calls on my imagination. Clutha at Mid-Winter Since I was a child, I have always tried to imagine the place before cars and roads, before houses. Back to a time not long after the last ice age when mammoth and reindeer still roamed. I imagined the view those early people might have seen, imagining that if I squinted with eyes closed half open I would still see them, somehow living out their lives between or under our timeline. What were their thoughts, how did they see the world? Who did they petition as they gathered and hunted, who did they honor around a roaring fire with bellies full? I wonder of Clutha played a role in their lives? Clutha is generally thought of as the Goddess of the Clyde. Very little is known about her with the first instance of her name being recorded when the Romans recorded the local tribe, the Damonii. She Who Cycles The earliest peoples believed that water held life, without it life couldn’t exist. Clutha isn’t just the essence of the river she is the waters within the clouds, the streams and the Loch. To sense something of those earliest people I turn to my drum. She led me across the worlds, over an ocean where I danced with Clutha. Clutha is ‘she that cycles’, from the clouds drifting in from the Atlantic, dropping their waters when they meet the mountains of the west coast. She falls as rain onto the shoulders of Ben Lomond, trickling down in little tributaries, joining others creating mountain streams, cascading down waterfalls and pouring into the dark peaty waters of Loch Lomond. The dark peaty soil soaks her up until it is saturated and creates dark pools which seem to have no depths providing perfect scrying bowls. Beneath the peat soaked up by heather and bracken, down through the layers to give distinctive tastes and prized for whiskey making. Tributaries, lochs – swimming with fishes, into the Clyde gulped up by the great giant basking sharks who are known to sail these waters. Out into the firth mixing with salt water and seals and forests of kelp. Loch Lomond. Source – online-scotland.com Her dance is fueled by the sun, sometimes by the wind some nights she is transparent clouds illuminated by moonlight. What qualities did she bestow? What did her waters offer? We have so little information about her although she is still here cycling, replenishing, feeding. As the salt water surges up the Clyde at high tide we can feel her flow and ebb. Sadly our world has turned it’s back on that world reveling in somehow being apart, aloof from nature. ‘The Apache people of the American southwest say that wisdom sits in places and tell their children to drink from places. Apache sage Dudley Patterson once described wisdom as water that never dries up. He articulated the connection of place and soul this way: You need to drink water to stay alive, don’t you? Well, you also need to drink from places. You must learn their names. You must remember what happened at them long ago. The Apache are a desert people, but their idea of wisdom strangely echoes that which of rainy Ireland. It is important, both say, to repeat the names of places, for in doing so we evoke their stories. That happened there: place and story are deeply tied both Apache and Irish wisdom traditions’.P Monaghan, Red Haired Girl from the Bog. I hear the call and feel the presence of those long ago people. There is times when I wander these hills and enter into pockets that feel as if they are time out of time. Sacred places. I like to sit and drink up their silence, bathing in that deep sense of place the silence offers. The wisdom of this place soaks into my cells, and even now though I maybe many miles from her I still have her wisdom, her water locked up in my cells. A ritual to Clutha with 3 white quartz stones Sister Connection I can still hear her call, although an ocean away as this deity of life giving water is known by many names across the world. In ireland she is Boann, in the foothills of the Appalachians she was Tah-kee-os-tee (Racing Waters) to the Cherokee peoples. I sense a similarity as I sit by her banks – her fast eddies and white caps. She pulls me into that space – time out of time. Tah-kee-os-tee or Zillicoah is the oldest river in the world, far older than the Blue Ridge Mountains she has carved her path through. There is a sister connection. Towards the Firth of Clyde from Carman Hill. J Lally On one of the hills above the Clyde stands a burial chamber marked by a five-foot portal stone. It marks a grave where alongside a polished axehead a collection of white quartz stones were found. When you walk these hills they shine outset against the dark peaty soil. I too carry white quartz stones from that sacred place, I find myself reaching for them as I enter a trance shaking them in my cupped hands like a rattle. Above is a ritual to Clutha, on the banks of the Clyde. The deep knowing that I wherever I am I still ebb and flow in movement with her tides and that I carry her waters within …
The Friendship Spell by Hearth Moon Rising

In the mid-80s, in San Francisco, I was having roommate problems. I don’t remember what sparked the issues, exactly, and I’m not sure I ever knew. The only thing clear was that my roommate hated my guts, in an obvious, vocal way, punctuated by all kinds of petty behaviors. Moving out was an option, of course, but even back then rents in the Bay Area were high and good roommate situations difficult to find. Besides, before moving in with her, this woman had been a friend. My first instinct was to try to improve the relationship. Photo: No-W-Y When my attempts at reconciliation failed, I went to one of the neighborhood botanicas and explained the situation. The woman in the shop said I needed a “friendship spell” and sold me a pink candle dressed with rose oil. I followed the woman’s instructions carefully, and as the candle burned the loving vibration was palpable. The response was dramatic. My roommate shifted from disliking me intensely to engaging in a full blown persecution. She began disparaging me to others, even saying things about me that were untrue – although who knows how connected to reality she was in her constant state of dudgeon. She went from constant criticism to silent nasty looks that oozed contempt. After I announced my intention to move, she began throwing away things of mine that occupied common areas. They were inconsequential things, I admit, but it’s the thought that counts. My friends had the theory that the roommate wanted to scapegoat me, and she resented that I was giving her no ammunition. Worse, I had messed up her program by bringing love energy into the house, and it was taking more out of her to maintain hostility. I bought this theory at the time, and I still don’t think it’s wrong, exactly, but I have another perspective. I think energy is energy, and while it takes concerted will and perservation to turn loving energy into hateful action, if a person is determined enough, it can be done. I think she was taking the friendship energy from the spell and using it to fuel her own sick agenda. There’s another explanation for the explosive change in the household environment. The spell, from her perspective, was a violation. After all, I was the one who wanted harmony and love, and I had just assumed that she did, too. I did not have her permission to change the situation. Was I coercing equality and peace onto a person who wanted domination and control, with yours truly as the controllee? There are some who would say the spell was not “karmically balanced.” Photo: Kurt Stuber There is still another explanation. The spell was working on me, and I was becoming more loving and respectful toward myself. It never occurred to me that I had been placating her, like a dog exposing its belly to signify submission, but it’s possible that I was. Reclaiming dignity is a sure way to set an abuser off on a path of rage. None of these explanations are mutually exclusive; they may all have been true to some extent. Whatever the reason for the way that spell explosively backfired, it wasn’t the correct response to a situation where one party was not committed to reconciliation, harmony, and respect. What I needed in that time and place was protective, defensive magic. I want, in future articles, to write more about protective magic for women, because we often find ourselves in situations where, whatever our part in building the poor dynamics, working on ourselves cannot change anything because the other party does not want change. Abuse can come from incels, men’s rights activists, trans rights activists, so-called feminist activists, bullying employers, or male family violence. What abusers have in common is a disinclination to change abusive behaviors. Huwawu. 2nd millenium B.C.E. Photo: Rama We can go to therapy, learn to recognize abusers, learn the ways we ourselves sabotage relationships, begin taking responsibility for our own addictions, codependent behaviors, and boundary violations – but at the end of the day, this can only have partial success in improving outcomes when the other side isn’t playing. These are not scenarios that call for “sending love energy.” At least not initially. One surprising outcome of the “friendship spell” was that I did not carry resentment toward my abusive roommate for long. Today, I recognize her behavior as wrong, and I regret being the target of it, and I can’t exactly say that I wish her well, but I wish her no ill. Mostly, I feel grateful for what the experience taught me about how magical energies work. In my next essay, I will expland on the issues described here through the old Sumerian myth of Gilgamesh and Huwawa. An image of Huwawa was used in Mesopotamia for protection. A version of the myth is contained in the Epic of Gilgamesh, but I think the older tale deserves scrutiny in its own right. https://www.magoism.net/2013/04/meet-mago-contributor-hearth-moon-rising/
(Essay) Eternity by Kaalii Cargill

“Certainly there is within each of us a self that is neither a child, nor a servant of the hours. it is a third self, occasional in some of us, tyrant in others. This self is out of love with the ordinary; it is out of love with time. It has a hunger for eternity.” Mary Oliver, Upstream: Selected Essays. My “hunger for eternity” has led me to temples and caves, mountains and valleys, to stand on the ground of the long ago people who made the figures I call “grandmothers”, the Paleolithic and Neolithic representations of Great Mother. Two years ago I first stood on the ground of my current home in the Dandenong Ranges outside Melbourne in Victoria, south-eastern Australia. The traditional custodians of this land – the Wurundjeri People – were displaced by European settlers nearly 200 years ago and, over the next hundred years, many of the giant Mountain Ash trees (Eucalyptus regnans) were replaced with European trees. There are no Mountain Ash in my garden, although giant stumps remain. Do the newer trees remember these giants? Were the roots of the 120 year old European Beech tree behind my house nourished by the remains of the Eucalyptus trees? As a child I lived alongside one of the few relatively undisturbed areas of native vegetation in the Adelaide Hills region in South Australia. I loved it, but it was not the land of my ancestors. My mother’s mother came to Australia a hundred and ten years ago. Her mother was born in Holyhead, the ancient Druid Holy Isle across a narrow channel from Angelsey in Wales – Ynys Môn. Bryn Celli Du, Neolithic Burial Chamber, Angelsey. My father came to Australia eighty five years ago. He was born in Calabria, Italy, near the ancient Magna Graecia Sanctuary of Demeter at Locri. Ruins of Demeter Sanctuary, Locri, Calabria Italy. Was it possible that I, like the Beech tree, may have been nourished by the land I walked as a child even though it was not the land of my ancestors? I think so. I learnt from the land. I learnt the songs of air, water, fire, and earth. I learnt the songs of the trees, the frogs, the summer rain, and the wind – cold winds from the South and hot winds carrying desert dust from the North. I learnt the songs of dragonflies, lizards, kangaroos, and spider orchids. The rhythms and cycles of the natural world entered my mind and body and never left. Are the Australian songs different from the European songs? Not really. The cicadas at Locri sang the same songs as the cicadas in the Australian summer, the leaves whispered the same secrets, and there are glimpses of eternity everywhere. My first experience of standing on sacred ground and receiving a glimpse of eternity was at Amphitheatre Rock, the name European settlers had given a huge, shallow cave in the cliff face up behind a screen of trees in the native bush near my home. Water running over the cliff had smoothed the platform into a natural stage that faced into a small gully lined with crude, tiered seats of rock. Memory, old and dim, hid in the shadows. I was four years old when I was told that there had once been sacred gatherings at the Rock. I could see the spirits of those who had gathered around the fires on the hillside, their shadows leaping and dancing on the rock walls. I didn’t know their language or customs, but they taught me to respect sacred ground. Amphitheatre Rock, Belair National Park, South Australia Since then I have stood on sacred ground in other places – Bulgaria, Egypt, France, Greece, Indonesia, Italy, Jordan, Lebanon, Malta, Turkey, United Kingdom, Unites States. The songs are the same. The rhythms and cycles of the natural world are eternal. The ancient Greeks had a word for these natural rhythms: kairos. Kairos time differs from the linear, clock time that structures much of the modern world. It is the timing intrinsic to a process, the time it takes for an Emperor Gum moth to emerge from its cocoon, or for an adult cicada to emerge from its shell. The time it takes for a mother to grow a baby in her womb and give birth. The time it takes for us to hear Great Mother’s eternal song. Stara Zagora, Bulgaria, 6th Millennium BCE. Meet MAGO Contributor KAALII CARGILL
(Poem) Spirituality of Sale by Francesca Tronetti, Ph.D.

Sacred Iseum Subscription Box picture from Cratejoy (This poem is an introduction to my forthcoming essay.) Click here for instant spiritual growth! Crystals for healing and sage for cleansing, On sale now, store closing soon. Is this what my beliefs are to you? I raise energy to push myself through bad times, There is a reason to cleanse the soul and the space, To push away damaging things which hurt our spirit. Find and map your chakras only $19.99! The ancient soul of India can bring you, To your fullest potential, act now. Do you understand what you are selling? A culture which survived colonialism and invasions Teachers who shared their spiritual practice with others Who wanted to teach and heal those who needed it But now, a computer can heal you for less than $20. Goddess wisdom from the moon for you! Sync with your astrological influences, Become a better person and support small business. Ah, now this is clever for so many reasons. Yes, I want to support small women run businesses, And while I don’t think my fate is determined by the stars They do seem to influence moods and the rhythms of life. And look at this stuff, it’s all so and cool. Meditation chimes and singing bowls, at bargain prices Moon chart tapestries for my walls, in different colors. Scented candles to bring forth intentions and set goals Dream interpretation and moonlight meditations. It’s all there for sale online, no need for a physical store. Get a monthly subscription for herbs and candles A Box of Shadows, a Bit of Wicca all available. The Dark Moon Box, the Mystic Box, and Medicine Bundles Whatever way you lean or culture you admire, you can buy it. But, among this capitalistic spiritual frenzy Is there something actually spiritual for sale? Can we benefit from the mainstreaming of faith? In a way that helps us recover from death, loss, and upheaval? Witch Gifts Subscription Box picture from Cratejoy (To be continued) (Meet Mago Contributor) Francesca Tronetti, Ph.D. https://www.magoism.net/2018/11/meet-mago-contributor-rev-francesca-tronetti-ph-d/
Join the Solstice Chant of 24 Seasonal Marks!

We’d like to invite Return to Mago readers and contributors to join us in chanting the earth’s twenty-four seasons for nine days beginning from December 21, 2014 till December 29, 2014. One can do it any time of the day and as many times as one wishes. We encourage you to create your own tune for chanting.
(Book Excerpt 2) The Crone Initiation: Women Speak on the Menopause Journey ed. by Kay Louise Aldred, Pat Daly & Trista Hendren

[Editor’s Note: This anthology was published by Girl God Books (2022).] “Restorying Menopause: My Journeys with Inanna, Persephone and Skeleton Woman” by Sara Miller Menopause needs a reframe. We need to give this Rite of Passage, this journey of unbecoming and of becoming anew, much more respect and honour. Myth can and does provide a powerful context for restor(y)ing menopause. Goddess myths have a particular potency as they offer powerful motifs of descent and rebirth and hold many keys to our personal and collective navigations through this rite of passage. The night sweats signalled the beginning of my perimenopausal journey. I would wake drenched with sweat, tangled in cold, wet sheets, after the flush of heat had left my body. Sleep was becoming increasingly difficult, and I had enlisted the help of a Chinese Doctor to assist me. I continued with my life as a passionate and determined activist while navigating perimenopause and then along came ACIS. Andeno Carcinoma in Situ is an aggressive form of cervical dysplasia. Suddenly I was thrust into the medical system. An immediate hysterectomy was suggested and there was a sense of urgency and fear from the medical practitioners and my family. My response was to slow right down. I hit the pause button on my life and dived deeper into the Mystery of my menopausal journey. I sought guidance in many different and powerful ways, but the guidance that resonated most deeply was that of myth, those Stories Alive that assisted me on my very personal journey through ACIS, cervical cancer and eventually surgical menopause. Myths provide a powerful map for journeying through our initiations. Embedded in these tales of transformation we can see repeating patterns, of severance, transition, and return.[1] The stories of Inanna, Persephone, and Skeleton Woman were three powerful Story Guides, offering insights and terrain for navigating my journey through menopause. Severance These Goddesses were severed from the life they had known before. Skeleton Woman was thrown over a cliff, “for she had done something of which her father disapproved.” Persephone is either abducted into the underworld, or importantly in earlier myths, She willingly descends. Inanna also goes willingly into the Underworld. Severance through descent is the central to their myths, to their journeys and the transformation that follows. I too would need to descend. Severance is a separation, a tearing away from. It is psychic, and it is bodied. It is the first part of any initiation, including menopause. In my own journey with ACIS I was stepping deeply into the unknown. I had envisaged a much more graceful journey. But then I had to reckon with this disease in my cervix, and in myself. At the same time my body was tangoing with the hormonal changes of perimenopause, my 14-year-old daughter was doing her own dance with puberty. She had begun bleeding and was navigating mood swings, and some serious eye rolling, a barrage of whatever’s, and an obvious desire to generate distance from me. It was a painful time and so I turned to the mother-daughter myth of Demeter and Persephone. I found recognition in their story of separation, of loss, and of renewal. Their story gave voice to the depth of the grief I was feeling. I missed my young daughter, and the closeness we had. When Persephone willingly journeys to the underworld, “a chill passes through” Demeter. She tries to entice her daughter to stay in the world of sunshine but to no avail. Demeter must face her daughter’s departure, this rupture of their relationship, and the beginnings of Persephone’s own transformation. She must also face the change that brings for herself. Their story resonated deeply with me; the grief of letting go and the acceptance and necessity of my daughter’s own adventure through her teenage years. I, like Demeter, was required to step into trust, trusting her to journey well through this difficult period, as she navigated her own hormonal dance of becoming a woman, all the while navigating my own dance. After being diagnosed with ACIS I journeyed for a year trying to heal myself, and the Stories Alive in my cervical cells. I explored the stories in my body through somatic and shamanic work. I tended to my inner maiden, and the rupture that had occurred in my own teenage years. But 11 months and two cone biopsies later – having declined several offers to remove my womb, I was notified that ACIS had spread from my crypts, and I had cervical cancer. Left unchecked and/or undiagnosed, cervical cancer is a deadly disease. It spreads rapidly through the body. And so I made the painful decision to have a hysterectomy. With this knowing of my impending surgery I prepared for my departure. In each of these Goddess Myths there are brave souls willing to tend to the Goddesses departure. Inanna has Ninshubar, Persephone has Demeter, and Skeleton Woman has the fisherman. I too called in support. Ninshubar drums for Inanna as she descends into the underworld, and my sisters did just that for me. I also had several womb ceremonies to say goodbye to my womb, to make sacred, this sacrifice of womb to earth, of menstrual cycling to menopause. It was also necessary to cultivate my own internal Ninshubar, my witness perspective as I tended to my own ghosts and exiled parts. She sang songs of encouragement as I faced death and bade me honour the life/death/life cycles of which menopause is an important component. Death is a formidable presence in each of these stories. But it’s not only the death of the separate self as proposed in modernity. In these stories death is an integral part of a continuum of death/ life/death. Momento mori Skeleton Woman whispered to me. Momento mori, remember you will die. These whisperings were powerful reminders of the eternal cycle within menopause, and in my particular journey. Like Inanna before me, on that cold surgical table, I was naked and bowed low. My womb, cervix, fallopian …
(Poem) The Dead by Susan Hawthorne

Opera di circa 220mq realizzata a San Gavino Monreale col contributo dell’Associazione Culturale Skizzo, Wikimedia Commons i The dead press their faces up against mine. They speak to me endlessly of the past. Souls clamour as I near the caterwauling realm of the dead. I seek my mother, but cannot find her in this murky-aired vault. They speak to me. They tell me stories of their lives. But all I want is to speak with her. They say, First you must listen to us, you must hear our grief. Then you are free to speak with her. The bench is hard. I will not eat of the food of the dead. This much I have already learned. The table is filled with fruit: apples, pomegranate, plums, grapes, wild roses. Red onions, carrots, plaited bread and a glass of red wine are left to tempt me. The storytellers take their places around the table and begin. ii My name is Charlotte. She brushes back her corn blond hair. My mother, her sister, my great-grandmother, my great-great uncle, my great uncle and much later my mother’s mother, my grandmother all perished by their own hand. Despair was inherited with the blood of my family. I was the last. They came and took me away, took me to the camps, where their final kindness was to end the family curse. There they gassed me, along with thousands of others. But they could not kill my spirit, my life which lives on in the thousands of paintings I made. The theatre of my life. iii My name is Anonymous. I speak for all the other women whose names are unknown, but whose stories reverberate around these rooms like thunderous storms. I am not long dead, my memories still torment me. I stand in a crowd of tearful women, waiting and wailing. Willing that the lives of our fathers, brothers, husbands be spared, or if they are dead, that they did not die cruelly. The veil of a woman screams with her expired breath, seeing the names of those she loves on the list. Those of us who wait, who return to wait again and again shiver, wanting and not wanting to know. I return to my daughters in the camp and resolve to flee into the Afghani mountains when the list bearing my beloved’s name is nailed to the gate. My daughters and I will run between the flying bullets. iv I found freedom in the underworld, where circus jesters, acrobats and long-limbed stilt walkers play Russian roulette with their souls. I hardly recognise her. Is that you? Is that really you? I ask, repeating the question. Fire breathing women walk by, each question punctuated by a flaring of the mouth. Her soul retreats again and I reach out to grab her hand. Death is wheeled by on a cart such as Athena once invented. The underworld is not technologically literate, but a primitive world full of primitive passions. Death casts her eye over me and passes on. Not yet. Not for me, at least. There she is again. Mum, I call. She turns, her eyes owl-grey, where once they shone blue. A beach ball flies between us, light as a ghost. I hold her hand, cold, and press it to my hairline. Her gaze passes over my left shoulder and I wonder who she sees. I want to talk, but no speech can creep between my lips. When her mouth opens, I see neon words fly like birds but no sound … I strain to hear but there are only the faint strains of an accordion, like a circus passing by on a distant road. She makes the leap as Death cruises past again and takes her place on the horse-drawn cart. No backward glance, no regret, simply passing on. As I turn to leave the world of the dead, my eyes catch another face I know. No warning and the dead throttle past me in their rush for eternity. v And another and another. Is there no end to the greed of Death? Crossing the road in her prime, Death steers straight for her. Didn’t she notice? Did neither notice? Death did. Death stood by the bed for days. Pushed and pulled by life’s will. But Death is a bad loser, knowing that her endurance outlasts all. I spin the wheel waiting for the next game. A pomegranate rudely torn open tempts me, a glass of red wine is proffered. Souls bristle into the seats nearby, the storytellers take their place around the table and begin … May 1994-October 1996 Notes When my mother died in May 1994, I grieved for a long time. This poem references Persephone and Demeter. Persephone in her role as Queen of the Dead, who is tricked by Hades to staying in the underworld for six months of each year. The poem also tells the story of Charlotte Salomon who was captured by the Nazi’s and sent to Auschwitz. I stumbled upon a book of paintings by her called Leben? Oder Theater? (Life? Or Theater?) while staying with two German friends living in Berkeley. I was very moved, not only by her tragic story, but also by her extraordinary paintings. This life and all the other lives of women who are unnamed are important to remember, especially around the time of Halloween and All Souls Day. This poem is from my book The Butterfly Effect (2005). https://www.magoism.net/2013/12/meet-mago-contributor-susan-hawthone/

(Special Post 4) Nine-Headed Dragon Slain by Patriarchal Heroes: A Cross-cultural Discussion by Mago Circle Members

[Editor’s Note: This and the ensuing eight sequels (all nine parts) are a revised version of the discussion that has taken place in The Mago Circle, Facebook group, since September 24, 2017 to the present. Themes are introduced and interwoven in a somewhat random manner, as different discussants lead the discussion. The topic of the number nine is key to Magoism, primarily manifested as Nine Magos or the Nine Mago Creatrix. Mago Academy hosts a virtual and actual event, Nine Day Mago Celebration, annually.] Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: Here is how Goma is known among the ancient Chinese. She is called The Mysterious Woman of the Nine Heavens (Jiutian xuannu). Nine Heavens refer to the confederacy of nine states, Danguk or Nine Hans. Statue of Jiutian Xuannü, Wikimedia Commons https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jiutian_Xuann%C3%BC Another icon of Jiutian Xuannu below. https://www.tinyatdragon.com/blogs/spiritual/jiu-tian-xuan-nu-mysterious-lady-of-the-nine-heavens?fbclid=IwAR0n1Ld6tmxqTec23Pzg3DxRjEQ-DbjdGF1DU_Jjlt4eMbHdTOO9Jd7ePnc Lizzy Bluebell: Oh – now I see what the Buddha riding the deer was carrying; her Gourd. A very interesting link, thanks.”…these statues in Taoism are not for worshipping or praying. They are like a container, a magic tool, which is used to program the energies into profiles and be used for different things in Taoist magic. The outsiders cannot understand too much, and so these “Taoist secrets” are often hidden from the public in the old days or even today.” Lizzy Bluebell: Very informative passage on the power of the NINE:”Nine is the pattern of giving off power, or using up the energies of things to give off powers, just like a flashlight burning it’s battery up for the light. Sky is the pattern that relates to any pool of resources or elements that are considered the proactive party that is “starting” something or the giving side of a situation.Remember that we talk about patterns in Taoism, and it applies to everything including our FU talismans words and these special terms like Jiu Tian / Gau Tin.A practical example for this term can be used as in if you are trying to go to the kitchen and cook something for lunch. Your “sky” here is all the things in the kitchen, and ground is the kitchen itself where you put the food into “process” them. So the 9-sky stage is to have picked out the food you like and let them show themselves to let you know which one is the best to use, maybe some just smell better or some look fresher to you. Nothing has been done yet, but you are now able to “start” something because you can at least feel and sense the food’s potentials and power.” Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: Lizzy Bluebell, Oh it is gourd. Yes, I forgot about the gourd symbol for Mago/Magu. It is a container for the elixir from which one drinks. It is a common pictographic/literary theme and I have images of Magu with the gourd. Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: Lizzy Bluebell, this is one heuristic analogy. Ancient Magoists depicted/perceived the universe as Nine Heavens, an equivalent to Nine States on earth for it is the lens of Nine Numerology through which they saw everything. Because ancient China removed the history of Goma, they spiritualized/philosophized the teaching of Nine Numerology. If we have Goma’s history (and the mytho-history of Old Magoism), we can perceive the meaning of Nine Heavenly directly (not through theories or analogies). Wherever and whenever the consciousness of Nine Numerology surfaces is a manifestation of Goma’s rule/civilization/religion. This will remain forever insofar as humanity continues because Nine Numerology is the principle of nature including humans. I would say that the teaching/principle of Nine Numerology is Goma’s self-redemptive soteriological gift. Insofar as we understand and honor the Nine Mago Creatrix/Nine Numerology (the female divine in general), we are endowed with the power of self-redemption. Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: Lizzy Bluebell, the character “Xuan or Hyeon 玄” refers to the quality of gynocentric spirituality, which has been made esoteric or mystic. It refers to the spirituality of the Great Goddess (Magoist spirituality). Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: Nine Hans or Nine Heavens manifests in such place-names as Kyūkoku (九国, Nine States). Kyushu (Nine Provinces) Island, Japan, seemingly a replica of Danguk (confederacy of nine states) representing the Nine Mago Creatrix, reflects the ancient glory of the Goma’s gynocentric rule. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kyushu Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: Doumu (Mother of the Northern Dipper) also comes in the icon of eight arms. Doumu, Song Dynasty, Wikimedia Commons Domu, Wikimedia Commons https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doumu Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: She is often conflated with Marici seated on a boar in her iconography (affine to Gemu of the Mosuo and Durga on a tiger/lion). Here Marici is depicted as four-headed and eight-armed. Marici, Wikimedia Commons Marici (Buddhism) – Wikipedia Judy E Foster: So similar to the Indian Goddess… Helen Hye-Sook Hwang Indeed! I am afraid that we may not be able to feature some of the nine forms of Durga from “Hinduism”. Helen Hye-Sook Hwang There is more, Marici. Marici, Wikimedia Commons File:Marichi, Buddhist Goddess of Dawn, China, Qing dynasty, 18th… Marichi, Source below. Marichi (Buddhist Deity) – Kalpoktam (3 faces, 8 hands)… Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: This is new info. on the nine tripod caldrons of ancient China. “The Nine Tripod Cauldrons (Chinese: 九鼎; pinyin: Jiǔ Dǐng) were ancient Chinese ritual cauldrons. They were ascribed to the foundation of the Xia (c. 2200 bce) by Yu the Great, using tribute metal presented by the governors of the Nine Provinces of ancient China.[1] At the time of the Shang Dynasty during the 2nd millennium bce, the tripod cauldrons came to symbolize the power and authority of the ruling dynasty with strict regulations imposed as to their use. Members of the scholarly gentry class were permitted to use one or three cauldrons; the ministers of state (大夫, dàfū) five; the vassal lords seven; and only the sovereign Son of Heaven was entitled to use nine.[2] The use of the nine tripod cauldrons to offer ritual sacrifices to the ancestors from heaven and earth was a major ceremonial occasion so that by natural progression the ding came to symbolize national political power[3] and later to be regarded as a National Treasure. Sources state that two years after the […]
(Special Post Isis 2) Why the Color of Isis Matters by Mago Circle Members

[Editor’s note: The discussion took place in Mago Circle during the month of July, 2013. Our heartfelt thanks go to the members who participated in this discussion with openness and courage.] Part 2 The Color Talk in Goddesses Kahena Dorothea Athena was also whitened which is sad. However the statues were worshiped by many women to whom they brought comfort. And their origins were later remembered by the abundance of Black Virgins that became important in Italy and other parts of Europe. I don’t see Dark Goddesses as shadows but as having depths of Creativity and Knowledge. My main Goddess is Kirke and the bast relief I have of her is a chocolate brown. Diane Horton The worship of Isis broadened from Egypt to all the countries bordering the Mediterranean, as well as the Middle East and the isles called now the British Isles. She and Her worship were virtually everywhere in the westernly known world of the time! She IS the Goddess of 10,000 Names! And as such she was adapted to each culture’s vision of Her. She was the basis of all the” Black Madonnas”. I do not think of this as Isis/Auset representing the “dark” Goddess as something somehow bad or to be dealt with, but rather that ancient darkness represents infinite potential, eternal creativity/fertility, the beginning and ending of all things, and the always deepening knowledge of magick. Max Dashu However, there is a politics of representation that we all need to be aware of, that pushes original African iconography down and away, and fronts Europeanized images. There is no possibility of “colorblindness” in such a system; a restoration of the original must be actively striven toward. This is incumbent on all of us not of (recent) African descent. Otherwise we perpetuate the injurious status quo, instead of overturning it. Harita Meenee I agree with those who say that race is largely a social construct. Its roots seem to lie in colonialism and the slave trade. I would also like to add that racism is used to oppress people of different nationalities and colors. Ηere in Greece the IMF neo-liberal policies are destroying our economy (and lives); they go hand in hand with a vicious racist campaign against immigrants, along with the rise of a neo-Nazi party. This is part of an effort to redirect people’s anger away from the government and bankers, towards those who are poor and foreign and often have a different color or religion. Fortunately, many grassroots activists are responding to this by building a strong anti-racist, antifascist movement. You can see our Facebook page below. It’s in Greek but the photos are quite revealing. If anyone is interested in learning more about the situation here, please message me and I’ll try to find some articles in English for you. https://www.facebook.co/19JanuaryATHENSvsFASCISM?fref=ts 19 Γεναρη – ΑΘΗΝΑ ΠΟΛΗ Αντιφασιστικη Μπροστά στη κλιμάκωση της φασιστικής απειλής και της ρατσιστικής βίας, στη εμφάν…See More Naa Ayele Kumari Let me put this in the context of something you might understand. This is a goddess group that honors the feminine and the power it represents. People in this group understand the oppression and misrepresentation of women. We understand the implications of misogynistic patriarchal thinking. We understand the implications of stealing the information, rites, and traditions from goddess centered cultures and rephrasing them into male dominated themes… especially those that then went on to oppress women today. This is the same thing that has happened as it related to race and our cultures. It infuriates us when a man may say… why do we have to focus on the goddess? Let us just accept that we are all human and no special consideration should be given to anyone because of their gender. Or, this is just a distraction or social construct and it really doesn’t matter. We understand the blatant disregard and ignorance of those statements. Yet, the same is true for race and people of other races. Your attitude and casual disregard perpetuates a lie that you are comfortable with and don’t wish to move from that comfort zone. It means you don’t have to be accountable for the injustices or oppression it continues to perpetuate in the larger culture toward people who do not look like you. As far as I am concerned, I truly believe that the dark goddess for many with white skin IS their shadow… It is the part of themselves that they deny and fear. That you may have come from black people may scare you… even when the science proves it. That deep down… you fear what you don’t understand. To even confront it is frightening… something that you would rather ignore and deny… Yet… here we are. Black, Yellow, Red… people.. women… who have been oppressed for thousands of year because of this… and are asking… to be seen in their true likeness… not as you wish them to be… or fear them to be. Naa Ayele Kumari Thank you Max Dashu, I so appreciate your scholarship and dedication to the truth where ever you find it… and Helen Hwang for staying open to it as well. [Someone withdrew the threads.] Rick Williams No, you can’t passively aggressively slither your way out of this, reread your own statements and that last post contradicts most of your ascertains. I can’t believe that you honestly say fire away at you like you’re some sort of martyr and VICTIM of being misunderstood, not at all, I understand you very well. I don’t think you understand yourSELF. That’s the real tragedy. Rick Williams “The Lips of Wisdom are Closed except to the Ears of Understanding.” It is in quotes, and it’s part of Ancient Wisdom, of Tehuti, DJehuti, or Hermes Trimegitus… The Great Scribe of KMT.. they have alot of pretty pictures of him all over KMT(Egypt).. still have no idea what you are saying have the time. Max Dashu Thank you Naa Ayele for taking the time to make the extremely apt analogy of women’s oppression to clarify the politics of race oppression […]
(Special Post 1) 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.] Introduction by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang and Wennifer Lin-Haver Helen Hye-Sook Hwang I am asking each of us to consider writing a sentence or paragraph on “Why Goddess Feminism, Activism, or Spirituality?” This idea is prompted by Wennifer Lin-Haver, Founder of Mother Tree Sanctuary, and I agree that we need to and can create a sort of collective writing on the topic. What we write below will be included and published in The Girl God, Mother Tree Sanctuary, and Return to Mago. As a subaltern minority as we seem at the current point of time, Goddessians/Magoists [the term Mago means the Great Goddess] need to make extra efforts to make our voices and presences exposed to the public and inner circles. Length and style are open. Please also include your name, region/state/country, title, and/or website URL. We strongly encourage you if you are located in a place where Goddessians are rarely around. We intend to make a collective testimonial tapestry of WE as Goddessians/Magoists! Please keep this in your mind and join us in this collective effort. Thank you in advance. March 6, 2014 AF (Archaic Future)! Wennifer Lin-Haver Our “call” started as a conversation between Helen and me where I was expressing to her the real need for Mother Tree Sanctuary to be more articulate with exploring the significance and importance of Goddess in our lives. I was prompted to give such a response, when asked “why” we had to differentiate God and Goddess. “Isn’t everything God?” She asked. And “Isn’t Goddess also God?” “Isn’t it all the same as long was we’re all coming from our ‘higher’ self?” she asked. So I saw this warranted a longer and much deeper discussion. I initially thought I should formulate a response and post it as a Page or Tab in our website, but after some reflection with Helen, I saw how much better it would be if we replied to this question as a diverse and creative collective. I surely do not have all the answers as an individual but perhaps together, we can come up with something more whole, colorful and satisfying. I do hope you will contribute a little something! We are always grateful for all that you have to share.

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.
The Passing of Last Summer’s Growth by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

The ‘passing of last Summer’s growth’ as is experienced and contemplated in the Season of Deep Autumn/Samhain, may be a metaphor for the passing of all/any that has come to fullness of being, or that has had a fullness, a blossoming of some kind, and borne fruit; and in the passing it has been received, and thus transforms. The ‘passing of last Summer’s growth’ may be in hearts and minds, an event or events, a period of time, or an era, that was a deep communion, now passed and dissolved into receptive hearts and minds, where it/they reside for reconstitution, within each unique being. Samhain is traditionally understood as ‘Summer’s end’: indeed that is what the word ‘Samhain’ means. In terms of the seasonal transitions in indigenous Old European traditions, Summer is understood as over when the Seasonal Moment of Lammas/Lughnasad comes around; it is the first marked transition after the fullness of Summer Solstice. The passing and losses may have been grieved, the bounty received, thanksgiving felt and expressed, perhaps ceremonially at Autumn Equinox/Mabon; yet now in this Season of Samhain/Deep Autumn it composts, clearly falls, as darkness and cooler/cold weather sets in, change is clearer. In the places where this Earth-based tradition arose, Winter could be sensed setting in at this time, and changes to everyday activity had to be made. In our times and in our personal lives, we may sense this kind of ending, when change becomes necessary, no longer arbitrary: and the Seasonal Moment of Samhain may be an excellent moment for expressing these deep truths, telling the deep story, and making meaning of the ending, as we witness such passing. What new shapes will emerge from the infinite well of creativity? And we may wonder what will return from the dissolution? What re-solution will be found? We may wonder what new shapes will emerge. In the compost of what has been, what new syntheses, new synergies, may come forth? Now is the time for dreaming, for drawing on the richness within, trusting the sentience, within which we are immersed, and which we are: and then awaiting the arrival, being patient with the fermentation and gestation. Seize the moment, this Moment – and converse with the depths within your own bodymind, wherein She is. Make space for the sacred conversation, the Conversing with your root and source of being, and take comfort in this presence. We may ponder what yet unkown beauty and wellness may emerge from this infinite well of creativity. The Samhain Moment in the Northern Hemisphere is 17:14 UT 7thNovember this year. Wishing you a sense of the deep communion present in the sacred space you make for this holy transition.
(Art & Poem) Candelmas/Imbolc by Sudie Rakusin & Annie Finch

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

The dance begins with two concentric circles, which will flow in and out of each other throughout the dance, resulting thus in a third concentric circle that comes and goes. The three circles/layers are understood to represent the three aspects of Goddess, the Creative Triple Dynamic that many ancients were apparently aware of, and imagined in so many different ways across the globe. In Her representation in Ireland as the Triple Spiral motif, which is inscribed on the inner chamber wall at Bru-na-Boinne (known as Newgrange)[1], She seems to be understood as a dynamic essential to on-going Cosmic Creativity, as this ancient motif is dramatically lit up by the Winter Solstice dawn. It seems that this was important to the Indigenous people of this place at the time of Winter Solstice, which celebrates Origins, the continuing birth of all. Thus I like to do this Cosmogenesis Dance, as I have named it[2], at the Winter Solstice in particular. The three aspects that the dance may embody, and are poetically understood as Goddess, celebrate (i) Virgin/Young One – Urge to Be as I have named this quality – the ever new differentiated being (also known as Fodla in the region of the Triple Spiral)[3]. This is the outer circle of individuals. (ii) Mother – the deeply related interwoven web – Dynamic Place of Being as I have named this quality – the communion that our habitat is (also known as Eriu in the region of the Triple Spiral)[4]. This is the woven middle circle where all are linked and swaying in rhythm. (iii) Crone/Old One – the eternal creative return to All-That-Is – She who Creates the Space to Be as I have named this quality (also known as Banba in the region of the Triple Spiral)[5]. This is the inner circle where linked hands are raised and stillness is held. The three concentric layers of the dance may be understood to embody these. The Cosmogenesis Dance represents the flow and balance of these three – a flow and balance of Self, Other and All-That-Is. It may be experienced like a breath, that we breathe together – as we do co-create the Cosmos. Thomas Berry and Brian Swimme have named the three qualities of Cosmogenesis in the following way: – differentiation … to be is to be unique – communion … to be is to be related – autopoiesis/subjectivity … to be is to be a centre of creativity.[6] The three layers of the dance may be felt to celebrate each unique being, in deep relationship with other, directly participating in the sentient Cosmos, the Well of Creativity. The Cosmogenesis Dance as it is done within PaGaian Winter Solstice ceremony expresses the whole Creative Process we are immersed in. It is a process of complete reciprocity, a flow of Creator and Created, like a breath. There is dynamic exchange in every moment: that is the nature of the Place we inhabit. The dance may help awaken us to it, and to invoke it. The Cosmogenesis Dance on YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dR73MDMM9Fk For more story: Cosmogenesis Dance for Winter Ritual For Dance Instructions: PaGaian Cosmology Appendix I Meet Mago Contributor Glenys Livingstone NOTES: [1] The Triple Spiral engraving is dated at 2,400 B.C.E. [2] This dance is originally named as “The Stillpoint Dance”, or sometimes “Adoramus Te Domine” which is the name of the music used for it. I learned it from Dr. Jean Houston in 1990 at a workshop of hers in Sydney, Australia. I began to use the dance for Winter Solstice ceremony in 1997, and it was only in the second year of doing so that I realised its three layers were resonant with the three traditional qualities of the Female Metaphor/Goddess, and also the three faces of Cosmogenesis. I thereafter re-named and storied the dance that way in the ceremonial preparation and teaching for Winter Solstice. See Glenys Livingstone, PaGaian Cosmology: pp. 280-281 and 311. [3] Michael Dames, Ireland: a Sacred Journey, p.192. [4] Michael Dames, Ireland: a Sacred Journey, p. 192. [5] Michael Dames, Ireland: a Sacred Journey, p. 192. [6] Brian Swimme and Thomas Berry, The Universe Story, p. 71-79. I have identified these qualities with the Triple Goddess, and the Triple Spiral in the synthesis of PaGaian Cosmology: see Glenys Livingstone, PaGaian Cosmology, particularly Chapter 4: https://pagaian.org/book/chapter-4/ References: Dames, Michael. Ireland: a Sacred Journey, Element Books, 2000. Livingstone, Glenys. PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion. Lincoln NE: iUniverse, 2005. Swimme, Brian and Berry, Thomas. The Universe Story: From the Primordial Flaring Forth to the Ecozoic Era. NY: HarperCollins, 1992.
(Photography & Poetry) Thoughts of Spring by Deanne Quarrie

Spring At the highest point on the tree, you stretch, reaching for the sun. Your pink petals elegant in their grace, you stand alone. Bravest of all, for leaves have yet to come to offer shade Branches bare except for furry buds that will soon follow in imitation of your daring first move. Intrepid flower of Spring, I feel like you in my yearning for the Sun!

(Essay 2 Part 2) Why Do I Love Korean Historical Dramas? by Anna Tzanova, M.A.

Part 2 ENGAGING THE MIND It makes me cringe every time someone calls Korean drama, especially the historical genre, a soap opera. The fact that they are TV series doesn’t necessarily make them foamy. Quite the contrary, they are full of substance. They don’t go on and on for years, season after season. On average, most of them are 24 to 60, one-hour-long episodes. Some have fewer episodes, some have more episodes, but after they are done—we move on. It’s a good way to learn non-attachment. Korean historical drama is thought provoking. It is multidimensional in the way it presents characters and stories. Plots are well developed, intelligent, intriguing, and entertaining. Yes, there are some predictable outcomes, but there is also a lot of substance and artistic craftiness, as well as clever twists and fascinating surprises. Sageuk (Korean Historical Drama) can teach about history and culture, and also about mythology, philosophy, and spirituality. It reminds us of the values that are fading or have vanished in Western culture in the 21st century. The importance of subtleties in life is shown through plot development, rhythm, and acting. Reoccurring themes convey lessons like patience, acceptance, forgiveness, trust, integrity, perseverance, and courage… That is, the true meaning and practice of those. There is depth in the understanding of the writers, as well as in the corresponding depiction by actors. There is profundity, which evokes a reciprocal reaction in the viewers’ mind. The characters are likable—and their outlook on life and their behavior are admirable. They evolve and influence each other and their environment. There is this definitive sophistication in expression of emotion. Something akin to meditation. In Sageuk, “silence speaks”. Thus, the experience is not only pleasant, relaxing and/or exciting, but many times healing and enlightening. Confucian ideas mixed with Buddhist and Daoist ideals motivate the protagonists’ kind and considerate actions. A particularly valued quality in Korea is “착하다/착한 [chakhada/chakhan]”. I first heard it mentioned in an interview[i]/book[ii] presentation of Euny Hong. The translation in the dictionary reads, “good, nice, good-natured, kind-hearted, meek, obedient, docile, gentle, quiet.” Actually, it is all this and much more. It is a trait that when faced with, being cynical—as we often are in the 21st century—we can easily dismiss as being naive, gullible, submissive, and even foolish. However, in the words of Rumi, “Before you speak, let your words pass through three gates: at the first, you ask yourself, ‘Is it true?’ At the second gate ask, ‘Is it necessary?’ At the third gate ask, ‘Is it kind?’”. The heroines and heroes in Korean historical drama follow this teaching in words and action. Most epitomize pure heartedness. There is a child-like sweetness about many of them—come to think of it, by losing innocence, has humanity really gained wisdom? In the online edition of Entertainment Weekly, I encountered a quote by Jacqueline Sia, Director of Video Operations of New York based DramaFever—one of the largest databases of subtitled Asian films and TV programs. In speaking about Korean drama she states: “Portrayal of love is a little more PG,”[iii] an observation that strikes any novice in the genre. We have become used to quick climaxes, crash-and-burn liaisons, as well as media glorified dysfunctional relationships. The predominant understanding of sex (and certainly the one staring at us from the TV and cinema screens) is hurried, flat, and linear. There is a disconnect between sex and love. Profanity and violence pour daily from everywhere. Exhibiting symptoms of an empath can easily be diagnosed as a psychiatric condition, and yet we are conditioned to be less and less sensitive. In this background, complex and refined emotional states, longing, embodied sacredness, and the act of leaving much to the viewers’ imagination, seem to be suitable only for children. Are we awake and mature enough to realize that all the psychological and social implications of the well-manipulated programming we are subjugated to is already bearing fruit in ‘real life’? (Read Essay 2 Part 1. To be continued in Essay 2 Part 3.) Notes: [i] The Korean Society, “Euny Hong discusses with WSJ columnist Jeffrey Yang her first nonfictional book,” YouTube (November 6, 2014). https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SxHv2gT539o [ii] Euny Hong, “The Birth of Korean Cool: How One Nation Is Conquering the World Through Pop Culture,” Simon and Shuster (2014). [iii] Hillary Busis, “Korean Dramas: A Beginner’s Guide,” Entertainment Weekly (April 11, 2014). Description of Korean Historical Dramas: This course offers a series of Korean Historical TV-dramas or Sageug (사극) and discusses the traits of female characters as well as general features of Korean history, culture, art, aesthetics, thought, customs, and people. What makes Korean drama so unique? What is the “secret recipe” that makes it so popular internationally? Why is it that, after a few episodes, one can‘t wait to see the next one or the next new drama? Those questions have made many wonder, from audiences to journalists and critics. Participants are invited to explore answers to these questions and more. Our emphasis is on woman’s place in history, as well as her role as creator, healer and leader; her strife to discover and reinvent herself, her inherent wisdom, her abilities to surrender, without giving up, and her potential to adapt, thrive, and ultimately transform the world she is in. Our selection of dramas qualifies high criteria in story content, character development, actor portrayal, multiplicity of ideas and values, and abilities to educate, while engaging and entertaining the viewer. Facilitators (Dr. Helen Hye-Sook Hwang and Ms. Anna Tzanova) will provide articles and audio-video materials concerning salient themes. (For more, see here) Info on online class, Korean Historical Dramas. See Meet Mago Contributor Anna Tzanova.
(Mago Essay 1) Toward the Primordial Knowing of Mago, the Great Goddess by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

Introduction: Why Inaugurate the Great Goddess Consciousness? The Great Goddess is known by many names around the world. “Mago” is one known by East Asians from time immemorial. As such, the term “Mago” is a common noun referring to the Great Goddess rather than the name of a particular goddess. According to my assessment of a large volume of primary sources that I have documented, Mago’s divine nature is characterized as the progenitor, creator, and ultimate sovereign. In short, Mago is supreme as the Creatrix. That does not mean that there is nothing before or even after Her. In fact, according to the Budoji (Epic of the Emblem City), principal text of Magoism, Mago was born into the cosmic era prior to our cosmic era by the music/vibration/movement of the universe. Being the Creatrix, She is the beginning and the end. She is the Origin of humankind. She will be with us insofar as humanity continues to exist on its cosmic journey. She is the Great Ancestor of all humans as well as goddesses and gods. Furthermore, She is “the Cosmic Great Mother” from whom everything is derived. “Mago” is eponymous of human civilization. With regard to the world, She is immanent and transcendent at once. Standing at the threshold of the world, She embodies the world. She is the Channel that connects humanity with nature and the universe. She is the Lens through which we humans perceive Ultimate Reality. To be precise, She is the Cause for human consciousness. Through Her, we enter the world. She is self-sustained, as symbolized in the ouroboros. The beginning and the end for the world relies on Her. While holding the key to eternity, She shares the rise and fall with humankind. Here is Her intimacy with humanity: We are part of Her and She is in our DNA. My reconstruction of Mago and Magoism did not begin with a teleological scheme. No pre-measured outcome was there to motivate my undertaking of the research project. On the contrary, the topic was a serendipitous yet timely encounter, which I had never consciously expected. Nonetheless, I was not in a vacuum. As a self-identified radical feminist, I sought a new mode of knowing within my own cultural roots that can remedy Eurocentric, nationalist, colonialist, racist, and ethnocentric knowledge. The years of my graduate studies were spent in exploring such possibilities. Only after furthering my research of Mago and Magoism for over a decade, I began to grasp something at which my intellectual/spiritual voyage is destined to arrive. It was this phrase, in fact a very old mandate that ancient Magoists self-identified with, “Return to the Origin of Mago (Mago Bokbon, 麻姑複本),” that surfaced over the horizon with clarity. How do we return to Mago’s Origin? Do we return to Her Realm or invoke Her Reality to our time? Time is one seamless measurement. No need to go there or bring it here. The fact that “Mago” refers to the Great Goddess rather than an individual goddess intimates an implication at the level of consciousness. Talk of Mago invokes the Great Goddess consciousness, primordial unity/oneness. A “new” mode of knowing is re-birthed once and time and time again. Individuals are placed in unity with the whole. Each shares with the subject position, WE. After all, everyone is progeny of the Great Goddess! We are re-stored within the scheme of old knowing that the whole (universality) comprises parts (particularities) and that they are organically interconnected. Complexity and precision of the way microcosmic entities work in harmony with the cosmos are beyond the human grasp. However, we know that an assault on a part affects the whole. And vice versa. This is why I study Mago and Magoism: Reenacting the Great Goddess consciousness is the ultimate antidote to the patriarchal consciousness. WE learn how to see things beyond the isolated position of an “I,” the notion of the self molded to stand against its environments (the other) by the patriarchal mastermind. The separated “I,” implanted in one’s psyche from birth through patriarchal institutions such as the state, religion, family, and heterosexuality, conjoins the new awareness of WE. The Mago consciousness is the original, pristine perspective prior to the split of the patriarchal consciousness. It is an undifferentiated state of mind that underlies patriarchal socialization. Ancient cultures had an understanding of the mysterious working of Mago. With Mago, WE Re-Turn to the Origin! The Female is epistemically invincible, nullifying the assaults of the patriarchal “I.” The power of the Mago consciousness is well depicted in the icon of Durga defeating the patriarchal demon. One should not be mistaken that the Mago consciousness is just another form of patriarchal thinking with reversed gender. It fundamentally differs in nature from the latter. Suffice it to say that “the Almighty God,” unlike the Great Goddess, does not share the same DNA with humans. In fact, He has no DNA! The monotheistic god rules over and against the world in protection of himself. He is needy. He isn’t even transcendent but disconnected from primordial unity. He can’t be “He” but only he of She. He can’t be the representative of the world because he is biased against the female principle. Ultimately, he is incapable of embracing everyone, unlike the Great Goddess. To hide the fact that the monotheistic god leads only to the abyss of self-destruction, patriarchal religions have created dogmas to indoctrinate people. The Great Goddess consciousness exposes the patriarchal deception. As patriarchy developed over the course of history, Mago was made unintelligible. People lost the Original Knowing! The Paradise was gone not only in a physical manner but also epistemically! That may as well be a corollary in that patriarchy precludes the concept of the Great Goddess by definition. It is not patriarchy if a society upholds the female as supreme. Nonetheless, patriarchy could not get rid of the manifestation of Mago in history, culture, and the collective consciousness of people. In fact, the ancient cultures, histories, myths, topographies, religions, and memories …
(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 …