May 23, 2014October 2, 2019 Mago Work Admin

(Music) In These Arms, A Song for All Beings by Jennifer Berezan

The official Jennifer Berezan music video produced by renowned photographer Irene Young with co-producer, Laurelin Remington-Wolf. Featuring excerpts from the making of the hour long chant CD including gorgeous footage of musicians from around the world, the Buddhist nuns of South Korea, and Jennifer Berezan.

Musicians include Jennifer Berezan, Jack Kornfield, Chris Webster, don benedictson, Dechen Shak-Dagsay (Tibet), Rita Sahai (India), Katia Cardenal (Nicaragua), Kiva Simova, The Buddhist Nuns of Unmun-sa Monastery, South Korea, David Worm, Melanie DeMore, Raz Kennedy, Sarah Dugas (French Canada), Steve Dawson, Julie Wolf, Jami Sieber, Milind Date (India) and more. For best quality – use drop down menu on right to view at 480p or 720p (HD). If your computer has trouble loading HD, use 480p. For more info, visithttp://www.edgeofwonder.com. Please share this
wonderful blessing for the planet with your friends.

Read Meet Mago Contributor, Jennifer Berezan.

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We, the co-editors, contributors, and advisers, have started the Mago Web (Cross-cultural Goddess Web) to rekindle old Gynocentric Unity in our time. Now YOU can help us raise this torch high to the Primordial Mountain Home (Our Mother Earth Herself) wherein everyone is embraced in WE. There are many ways to support Return to Mago. You may donate to us. No amount is too small for us. For your time and skill, please email Helen Hwang (magoism@gmail.com). Please take an action today and we need that! Thank YOU in Goddesshood of all beings! (Click Donate button below. You can donate by credit card or bank account without registering PayPal. Find “Don’t have a PayPal account?” above the credit card icons.)

0 thoughts on “(Music) In These Arms, A Song for All Beings by Jennifer Berezan”

Mikaela kate says:

January 5, 2015 at 2:45 PM

love love love

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(Performance Poem) Eye of a Needle by Susan Hawthorne

Mid-twentieth century They said I shouldn’t live You see, I’m a girl My sister was not so lucky, she died of preventable diarrhoea My sisters are many but the living not so numerous as the dead * The school said there weren’t enough desks even for the boys so I stayed home two more years My mother taught me to sing with the birds * At school no one noticed us much until the day of the long black car They took us to a place of white floors white people white ceilings I longed for red earth black people blue skies 1970s The war comes I escape run the border cross over out of hell into abandonment I am nameless My language in exile * There is no one to love 1980s In the camp I live under plastic between lines of trauma the mud fills my lungs grief corrodes my heart One day he stalks me hunts me like an animal takes me in a place where only the birds can hear me scream Day after day the birds wait and listen for my cries 1990s These are days of hope and despair I am filling my mouth with new words Words like “visa” like “protection” like “temporary” Words shaped to fill other mouths * We women, our lives like vines threading The eye of a needle takes more than a camel Twenty-first century There is no time for love I learn the system I know these walls for I have dug in the rubble and scaled them before * It is only then I find love in unexpected places She came into the centre We were careful It was slow but true Daily we experiment with trust * Once long ago they said I was a criminal for speaking my own language Then I was a criminal because he raped me They said I was a criminal because I fled their war into exile In most parts of the world my love is criminal And now that I am learning the methods and medicines of my foremothers without a licence to practise my traditions I am a criminal I do not need a licence to speak I do not need a licence to love I do not need a licence to heal I do not need a licence to live * I still talk to the birds I say, one day I will join you One day it will be your turn to cry for me On that day I want a sky burial From The Butterfly Effect by Susan Hawthorne, North Melbourne: Spinifex Press, 2005. Eye of a Needle was commissioned by the 10th International Women’s Health Meeting held in New Delhi, India in September 2005. The performance is intended to highlight women’s health issues in an international context. It is deliberately broad, moving through time and across space. It is an aerials performance with poetic text. The following issues played into my development of the text and performance. Beginning in the Mid-twentieth Century the health of girls and the way in which education is structured is the focus here. I allude to the fact that although many girls miss out on mainstream education, they do continue to be educated in the ways of their mothers and grandmothers. This can have very positive outcomes in terms of understanding cultural traditions. But many girls are “taken away” whether it is the Stolen Generation in Australia or whether it is for trafficking into prostitution or domestic work in countries around the world (including in Australia). The 1970s saw many wars of independence — and just as now — the effect on women has often been catastrophic. Escape from war torn regions can mean isolation, fragility, and a great sense of loss. In such situations how do women survive in a foreign country, speaking a foreign language? Refugees and camps have been a feature of the lives of women throughout the twentieth century, and even when women manage to escape there remain perils in the places that should be safe. Women are abused and violated because they need food, medicines, firewood and shelter for their children. Who is listening to the cries of these women? Detention camps, names like “the illegals” have become almost ordinary in the currency of the media. What could governments possibly mean by “temporary protection visa”? Whose protection are they seeking? Under such circumstances women achieve the impossible daily. The system is a giant wall with the bodies of many women at its base. Few manage to scale such bureaucracies. When they do it is an extraordinary feat. And so is love, whoever is the beloved. Many women find love, trust and friendship with other women. Some are lesbians. Mass criminalisation is occurring around the world. Among them are women whose traditional health practices threaten the newly won patents of the multinational pharmaceutical industry. I am calling for resistance to the criminalisation of women healers. This has happened before in Europe and the USA. Let’s not see another “witchcraze”. I call for dignity for all women: for sisters and aunts, mothers and lovers, friends and daughters. Meet Mago Contributor Susan Hawthorne.
(Essay 3) Baba Part III: The Smile (A tale of Vasilisa) by Jillian Parker

Vasilisa reached for a long, flat black lacquer box from its hiding place atop a roughly-hewn shelf. She slid open the box and let her hand rest on its contents for the briefest sigh of a moment. It was a shirt, sewn by her hands, crafted from the finest cloth she had ever woven. If she were to remove it from its hiding spot, she knew she would be able to thread it effortlessly through the small filigree ring on her finger. Within the folds of the shirt lurked a faded piece of parchment. She slid the box shut. “Thank you, dearest friend, for teaching me to weave,” she whispered. For one last time, or so she thought, she walked out the door. A pair of clouds was hovering near a crescent moon. She closed her eyes, and it was as if the moon kissed her brows and became a boat there, swaying back and forth. Absent-mindedly, she plucked a white aster growing near her door, and held it close while shuffling over to her bed. Images from Vasilisa’s memory crowded into her mind’s eye, and prevented her from falling asleep. Once, she had been sent on a journey with that very black lacquer box, to the far-off capital. There, she had witnessed surging armies, sieges, clashes, and blood spilled upon the dark earth. Vasilisa remembered how she had reached the castle wall, bruised, and with her clothing torn to shreds, so that when she appealed to the guards standing at attention with their pikes crossed, they did not believe she had any business in that place, and had turned her brusquely away. The most haunting of all of her reflections were those of silvery silhouettes of Ivan Tsarevich, pacing back and forth in his garden, or perhaps looking out to sea from a grey tower. Vasilisa began to dream that the boat on her brow was her own self floating on the ocean of consciousness. She passed a blinding light, and cried out in her sleep. Then she encountered a horrific storm. The waves of the sea curled around her and spoke in unison. Her senses nearly exploded from noise and terror. “Zarya! Help me! My bright Day!” she cried out. The dream was full of torment and anguish, until she heard a voice, “You are a soul. You are White Aster.” “But what does this mean?” she argued and begged, over and over with the storm. Yet the conflict would not cease. A voice came to her. “I am. You are, White Aster.” She still did not understand, although she could feel warmth seeping into her freezing limbs. “What is happening?” In the darkness, her struggle continued, until somehow she remembered the flower lying on her breast. Although afraid at first, she tipped the boat till it careened dangerously, then she directed it lower, until it was pointed straight at the flower; that is, in the direction of her heart. A light appeared inside its petals, and the pulsing flower expanded, until she was floating inside it. All of the raucous memories, the rioting waves, even a stray Leviathan which had been curled around her boat, as if ready to crush it, began to burn away in the curious white light within the aster, which was cool, yet warming at the same time; and then the sea was becalmed. Vasilisa woke with a start. She remembered the crescent moon, and the pair of clouds above it, and ran for the door. Her boat began rocking again. But there they were: the two clouds, as if hiding a pair of mysterious eyes, above a silver smile. Vasilisa smiled in response. The two sides of the sea were once again still and smooth. She made another attempt at a smile. Each time she smiled, while settled in this space, it was as if a hanging bridge had appeared, uniting the two surging sides of her soul-self. Slipping into this smile made her feel that she had just donned the finest kokoshnik, and a diaphanous, fairy-made royal gown. Finally, Vasilisa walked over and glanced at Vera on her cot. She pulled Vera’s coverlet down over her bare feet, and then returned to her own bed, and, with a smile lingering on her lips, sank into a fathomless dream. Read part 1 and part 2. Read Meet Mago Contributor Jillian Parker.
(Art) Cailleach, The Queen of Winter by Judith Shaw

The Cailleach (KAL-y-ach), which literally translates as the “Veiled One” is an ancient Goddess whose origins are unknown. When the Celts arrived in Ireland and Scotland she was there. Over time Her name came to mean “old wife” or “old woman”. And yet she was thought to never grow old, an all powerful, ageless, Goddess of transformation. In one of her stories, Cailleach, as an old hag, seeks love from the hero. If he accepts Her, She then transforms into a beautiful young woman, symbolizing the transformation occurring in the depths of winter when the seeds lay dormant in the earth. Yet alive within this dormancy is the promise of rebirth in the spring. She is the guardian of the life force, finding and nourishing the seeds, commanding the power of life and death. As the final phase of the Triple Goddess, she rules the eternal wheel of reincarnation. Cailleach personifies death and the transformative power of darkness. She leads us through death to rebirth. The Cailleach, a Dark Goddess of nature, is clearly one with the land. Sometimes depicted with one eye, She sees beyond duality peering into the Oneness of all Being. She is the embodiment of winter, clothing the land with the whiteness of snow. The sacred stones are Her special places. She leaps from mountaintop to mountaintop, dropping rocks to create sacred hills, the Sidhe. She carries a slachdam, the Druidic rod or a hammer with which she wields power over the seasons and the weather, unleashing powerful and cleansing storms.
Sara Wright

Read all posts by 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
(Pandemic Poem 5) Surely by Jyoti Wind

Blue window with ladder, NM. Photo by Jyoti Wind Surely, as light follows dark, we will emerge from this time with an acknowledged connectedness and keep it in daily awareness. Surely, through the fears we’ve faced, we will have a more acute sense of where we are in the scheme of things. Surely, our prior arrogance, thinking we had dominion and license to forge ahead gave way to humility to take forward. Surely, this virus as catalyst changes us, reminds us that as guests and stewards, we are in service to a greater consciousness. https://www.magoism.net/2020/08/meet-mago-contributor-jyoti-wind/
(Essay) Back in Matriarchal Times by Hearth Moon Rising

Back in the back woods, back in the holler, back when I was a little girl absorbing values that would prepare and frustrate me in my life ahead, my mother commented casually one afternoon, “We haven’t had a hen party in awhile.” “No we haven’t!” the other women agreed. This was in late summer, in West Virginia, in the sixties, and we were on a family vacation. A hillbilly “family vacation” is a vacation where you visit family. Lots and lots of family get together at somebody’s house. Relatives were camped out in tents, in campers, and in the farmhouse, and more relatives were coming and going, to visit for the day. “What’s a ‘hen party’?” we kids wanted to know. It was a party, we were told, for just the women, and it was high time we had another one. The women conferred with one another over schedules, decided the party would be held two days hence, and left to spread the word to female relatives and friends in the locale. Oh, and they told the men to leave the property on the designated afternoon. “Why can’t the men go to the hen party?” we kids wanted to know. “Because we want to be just with the women,” my mother explained. Further questions did not clarify the mystery. Cooking and baking preparations for the hen party started the next day and extended into the following morning. Women wanted to show off their skills for other women. As the appointed time approached, the men trudged off with a last loving look at the pies lining the tables. Being a little kid, my brother was given the option of staying with the women or going off with the men. He was curious about the party, but in the end he decided his loyalties lay with the men, and he left with them. As near as I could tell, the women didn’t do anything at their hen party that they wouldn’t have done if the men were there. They just talked, and they didn’t even talk about anything of much interest to a young girl. I got to see my girl cousins, which was nice, but we would have had more fun swimming or riding ponies than sitting around talking. The importance of that afternoon, for me, would not become evident for more than a decade. What came back to me later was how that party juxtaposed with my experience as an adult when I tried to create women-only space with other women. Because we always had backlash and we always had to justify ourselves to both women and men. Even before the issue of trans women self-ID’ing as women to enter women-only space, it was an uphill battle. There have been boycotts, denial of venues, vicious backbiting, and even involvement of law enforcement (targeting us!). As feminists, we have always had clear well-thought-out reasons for taking our space, whether for an hour-long group or a dedicated “wimmin’s land” commune. We say we are creating as women, we are strategizing as women, we are expressing our spirituality as women. We explain our reasons patiently, to ourselves and other people, and sometimes those reasons are even accepted. We strategize how to carry out our women-only vision for an hour, an afternoon, or a week. We rent a hall, we go into the wilderness, we congregate at a residence undisclosed until the time of the meeting. Sometimes we even meet unmolested. It is a sad commentary on our patriarchal indoctrination that women-only space seems like such a victory, such an experiment, and (for many women) such a new experience, because it should be taken for granted. My mother and aunts didn’t carve out a spot in the wild to hold their “women-only space,” though there was plenty of unoccupied land and they could have done that. They told the men to leave the house and property, and I don’t think it would have occurred to them to do otherwise. They didn’t resort to an ideology to make their exclusionary party plans permissible. They didn’t think they needed a reason. They certainly didn’t think they needed permission. At the end of the designated time for the hen party, the men swooped onto the scene and made a beeline for the food tables. Grown women don’t eat much, and there was plenty left over. I always assumed that the men went along with the inconvenience of finding a place to congregate for an afternoon, without grumbling, because they knew they would get an unusually fine meal for the sacrifice, but maybe not. Maybe they wanted their space, too, and the terms of banishment did not feel onerous. Maybe they recognized that women work harder than men, and that the women deserved some time to themselves away from male demands. I wish I had asked, but at the time a group of women making decisions for themselves, and a group of men deferring to those decisions, only seemed natural.
(Poetry) A Cactus Made of Rainbows by Sara Wright

Photo by Sara Wright Raspberry spines prick my skin but do not harm me as I gently dislodge you from stones and soil, praying out loud for permission. You thrive here as the Bears do under tall red pines and lichened boulders. Aspens, Spruce, Juniper all murmur love songs on Changing Woman’s mountain. Is that why they call you a Rainbow cactus? Were you there when She was born under soft deerskin pulsing with a whole spectrum of Light? Did the Bears watch you From swaying tree tops offer generous blessings for the gift of your life? I step so carefully, so as not to crush your little village thriving under my feet. I gather you as a small family, believing you need to grow together to thrive. Your roots are shallow hugging jagged rocks at odd angles. I feel amazement – Such tenacity. I note your need for protection from merciless west wind and sun. Yet you thrive with so little – a blessing from the Cloud People and you burst miniscule roses from thorny skin. I imagine a waxing frog moon overflowing with pride. I found a bear paw not far from where you lay – White flint worked by those who once tread lightly on sacred ground, soul heart and body bound to each rock and tree. (Bears still leave their marks on smooth white aspen bark). The People spoke in tongues most can no longer hear. Oh, my grateful heart sings praises for this precious body that vibrates ancient strumming sound… Your collective Voices vie for my attention as I move effortlessly through the veil, bowing my head to acknowledge your Bountiful Grace. Time gathers herself around me False lines and boundaries disappear. I am so easily comforted by Now. If only I could stay here… When I wend my way down the mountain with a prickly clump of your people, I am filled with Light. Perhaps Changing Woman was right – Her children’s father was a round rainbow cactus after all. Working notes Yesterday I visited the mountain that once called me to this place, although I couldn’t name her then… three years later I am drawn back again and again to this Mesa forged in Light to gather stones made of the flint that was traded throughout the Americas by the pre – Puebloan peoples. The Powers of Place embrace me again and again as I climb, hearing voices, and I am filled with wonder… In Navajo mythology Changing Woman – she who grows old and young again but never dies – was born under a rainbow of light created by a myriad of colors – orange, gold, gray smoke, ebony, pink and burnt orange – of the stone called chert that is found in a single band that stretches around this mountain. This flint was worked into tools that were traded throughout the continent… Changing Woman (parthogentically) birthed two boys who left her. When they asked about who their father was she retorted that maybe he was a round cactus! (a tongue and cheek response?) Their grandmother later told them their father was the sun but my guess is that their real father was a prickly round rainbow cactus that grows close to the ground on the slopes of Changing Woman’s beloved mountain, the mountain where she was born. This “marriage” was one woven from Light, tenderness, thorns, and tenacity. (Meet Mago Contributor) Sara Wright.
(Music 4) Singing to Hathor: Spiritual and Historical Reclamations Through the Muses of Memory, History, and Music by Jen Taylor

III. Spare Wings (Apples and The Fall) Hermeneutics is the branch of knowledge that deals with interpretation, especially of the Bible; it can be understood as a search for hidden meaning in texts. Christian feminist theology seeks to restore the lost female players of Biblical times. Innovator of the concept and feminist theologian, Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza believes reconstruction of biblical-historical theology as feminist theology is necessary because as the world’s dominant religion, it is impossible not to reckon with it. As long as “…the gospel, biblical texts, and traditions [are] formulated and codified by men, they will remain oppressive to women.” Reading the Bible critically, a hermeneutics of suspicion guides one in cleansing the text from its hetero-sexist patriarchal overlay.(1) Fiorenza’s hermeneutics of suspicion is a revelation, and the following is a hermeneutical investigation of Genesis and The Fall. I often articulate myself as rejecting Christian doctrine, but I am actually interested in restoring the lost Gnostic beginnings – Gnosticism as self-knowledge. Understanding the divine as emanating from within, there is no middleman. What is later translated by church patriarchs as sin, is understood as ignorance from a gnostic perspective. Sin marks you forever, but ignorance is something you can correct. The Gospel of Mary Magdalene, among others, has been recovered and confirms this.(2) I both reject and revise the story of Genesis when I understand it as a documentation of the demotion of the divine feminine. When I read Genesis, I do not hear (as Sunday school taught me) a declaration about how it has always been, but a curse for how it is going to be for women during the patriarchal era. As the handmaiden of colonialism, the creation narrative of Genesis impacts Christians and non-Christians alike in unconscious ways. I agree with Fiorenza on the need to correct the record. This is critical work and I love the elevation of it through the hermeneutical lens. I do not have to identify as Christian to participate. Unraveling Genesis has been a lifelong thread for me. Spare Wings: Apples and The Fall There is time, there are places; there is time, so many faces. There are needs, so much desire- and only seeds survive this fire. In the beginning there was the word and this was the beginning, how absurd. Flesh was the beginning, massing matter to form- from one womb to another, mysterious transformation. Is my flesh dirty, is it obscene? What do the boys see when they look at me? Is my flesh dirty, is it obscene? That word meant holy before Latin or Greek. But 3,000 years of lexigraphic change left my sisters’ bodies in a state of defamation. A prostitute was a priestess, that’s what that word meant: oracular vision, Mary Magdalene. Was Mary dirty, was she obscene? St. Augustine thought so, but Jesus never did. Don’t you know the ones who talk now, talk too much? Don’t you know the ones who come out, don’t know quite what for? Don’t you know the ones who call out, this is a surprise – didn’t quite open their eyes soon enough. Is my flesh dirty, is it obscene? Stop, stop, stop. What makes the apple fall to the ground? The desire to be eaten – the action that sets the seed free. Free. https://player.vimeo.com/video/370121353 Conclusion My “muse-ings” examine the dualistic nature of human thought and deliver a veritable theogony of Goddesses and ancient bad girls from the Egyptian Hathor to modern day Xena Warrior Princess. My focus is on re-wilding and the modern-ancient soul. I work best with the whimsicality of the ukulele, a kind of modern-day harp, to tug at our cultural amnesias and personal mythologies. More importantly though, these songs are personal mantras and a kind of myth-building for my own healing in a time bereft of the divine feminine. A living archetype has the ability to activate human potential. Calling these ancient goddesses and archetypes to life in song is a deep aspect of my spiritual practice. It reconnects me to my lost birthright. Layne Redmond shares a similar experience in which music, through drumming, led her to connect with the world’s oldest traditions of women in spiritual agency.(3) Her story is powerful and took her on a lifelong journey. I connect deeply with that, my own search sparked by the Homeric reference to the Cow-eyed Hera over 25 years ago. With so much lost, where else do we start but with ourselves? The temple was introduced in pre-patriarchal East Asia 6,000 years ago as a “female house of music.”(4) Sing now Muses, I shall remember you and a new song, as well.(5) (End of the series) Elisabeth, Schussler Fiorenza, “In Search of Women’s Heritage,” in Weaving the Visions, Judith Plaskow and Carol Christ, editors (New York, NY: Harper One, 1989), p. 31. Elaine Pagels, The Gnostic Gospels, (New York, NY: Vintage Books, 1979), p. 64. Redmond, 18. Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, “The Shaman Ruler of Old Magoist East Asia/Korea, & Her Mythology,” in Goddesses in Myth, History and Culture, ed. Mary Ann Beavis and Helen Hye-Sook Hwang (California: Mago Books, 2018), 274. This is the last line of Demeter’s Hymn. Helen P. Foley, trans., The Homeric Hymn to Demeter (Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1994), line 495, 26. (Meet-mago-contributor) Jen Taylor https://www.magoism.net/2021/10/meet-mago-contributor-jen-taylor/ Bibliography Angeles, Arrien. The Nine Muses: A Mythological Path to Creativity. New York: Penguin, 2000. Foley, Helen P., trans. The Homeric Hymn to Demeter. Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1994. Hwang, Helen Hye-Sook. “The Shaman Ruler of Old Magoist East Asia/Korea, & Her Mythology.” In Goddesses in Myth, History and Culture, edited by Mary Ann Beavis and Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, 251-275. California: Mago Books, 2018. Mayor, Adrienne. The Amazons: Lives and Legends of Warrior Women Across the Ancient World. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2014. Pagels, Elaine. The Gnostic Gospels. New York, NY: Vintage Books, 1979. Redmond, Layne. When the Drummers Were Women. Brattleboro, VT: Echo Point Books & Media, 1997. Schussler Fiorenza, Elisabeth. “In Search of Women’s Heritage,” in Weaving the Visions, Judith Plaskow and Carol Christ, editors. New York, NY: Harper One, 1989. Olga Sohmer, Olga. “The Mythic Cow and the Dairy Industry: An Archetypal Activist Exploration,” Olga Rose Sohmer, December 16, 2015. http://olgasohmer.com/on- mythic-cows-and-the-dairy-industry-an-archetypal-activist-exploration/. Solnit, Rebecca. A Field Guide to Getting Lost. New York: Penguin Books, 2005.
(Goddess Writing 4) Notes by Kaalii Cargill

Excerpt from Don’t Take It lying Down: Life According to the Goddess https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1482721953/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i2 The stories from our past have profound implications for us today; they explain how our current beliefs and attitudes have formed over time. There are many clues that have been overlooked in our education. The story of the loss of women’s mysteries is the first step in reclaiming our true heritage as daughters of the Goddess. This is not just another passing fad. This is the story of your past, of the events and attitudes that have led us to the brink of losing our connection to the life-giving power of the Goddess. It is also the basic information that can support you in reconsidering the whole experience of being a woman in today’s world. Before we look to the past, it is important to understand that mythology is not just about stories from ancient Greece or tales of Celtic heroes. Our current time is also made up of particular myths. However, we call the current myths “reality” or ‘truth”. Mythology is a collection of stories that includes both fantasy and fact and that provides meaning collectively and personally.[i] When we can recognise that any view of reality is actually the product of a mythology, or a collection of mythologies, we can begin to move beyond some of the unconscious assumptions that determine our lives. Our strongest myths today come from science and technology. Medical science, for example, teaches us about biological reproduction and the use of the contraceptive Pill. As you will see, this is only one story about fertility and reproduction, and it is a story that denies women true reproductive autonomy. Do you know why that is the case? Modern methods of birth control do not offer reproductive autonomy but rather a kind of reproductive dependence that a study of mythology and history places in a disturbing and provocative perspective. Science is one story we use to make sense of our experience and give it meaning. Science is, however, the dominant myth of our times and, as people in all times have done, we tend to believe in the absolute truth of our own myths. The myths of other times and places explain fertility quite differently from biological science and, as you will see, also offer women different ways to manage their reproductive choices. A study of mythology, ancient and contemporary, invites us to look at human experience in a broader historical and cultural context than usual. While this sounds like a good idea, it is actually quite difficult to look beyond our own understandings to other ways of experiencing the world. We tend to believe our own stories and be suspicious of others. This is, after all, how cultures have survived for millennia. We are, however, at a time of the world when it could be catastrophic not to listen to other stories. Unless we can learn to interact and exchange as a world-wide community, the destructive potential in human beings will remain a constant threat. This has, of course, been the case through most of recorded history, but now we have the means to perpetrate disaster on a world-wide scale. History and myth seem to be inextricably intertwined in our thinking. I can remember one of my daughters coming home from primary school with a story of how she had questioned her history teacher about locating an historical event “at the time of Christ”. She wanted to know if he was saying that Christ was an historical figure. The question was shocking to some of her fellow students, simply incomprehensible to others, and even the teacher had trouble answering. This question is, however, one of many that can begin to unravel history as we know it, opening up possibilities by sorting fact from fantasy, without losing the value of either. The Christ energy, for example, is profoundly meaningful to those it touches whether or not there was a proven historical figure called Jesus (the significance lies in the symbolic power to stir meaning and reverence, not necessarily in historical reality). It is, however, vitally important to sort through the underlying assumptions of our belief systems. Questions like the one my daughter asked may seem irrelevant today when formal religion is not as important to the community as a whole as it once was. Yet just because we have stopped going to church or even consciously believing in a father God, it does not take away the deep influence of a major religion on a culture over time. In a predominantly Christian culture, many of the teaching stories of the Bible still affect us in some way, even if we have not learned them directly. All people throughout time have had myths of the creation of the world, stories that explained the mystery of life and existence, and each community believed that their story was the true story. Every religious story is a myth that explains the mysteries of life and death according to the people who dreamed it into existence. Even if it we believe that these people received the teachings from a higher power of some sort, they are still formed into stories that reflect the cultural conditions and historical era in which they come present. One of the first steps in claiming autonomy is exploring how the stories of our culture affect us now. Adam and Eve and Kiss Me went down to the river to bathe; Adam and Eve were drowned, and who do you think was saved? Children’s rhyme Even those of us who are not actively practising the religion have been influenced by the basic assumptions of the Judeo-Christian myth. Almost everyone knows that the first man was Adam. Most people also think that the first woman was Eve, the one foolish enough (or evil enough) to take the apple from the serpent. What does this story teach as it is absorbed directly or indirectly? Take a moment to consider the story of Adam and Eve. …

(Special post) Interweaving Mago Threads by Mago Circle Members

“Mago” tradition Magoism is a new word to the modern Western vocabulary, yet it has its linguistic roots in many parts of the globe and in an ancient knowledge and know-how almost lost. Dr Helen Hwang determinedly and methodically is excavating the little-understood historical Mother-Goddess knowledge of Korea, and its traditions, the Mago, and Magoism, and in doing so is unlocking another previously invisible door, and replacing another ripped-off corner of the global map of significant, almost-lost tradition and forgotten knowledge. This is a most welcomed prospect. The newness of this discovery for those who learn of it fills them with excitement because every step to remember the ancient ways, particularly the lost Goddess ways, and those ways that hint of Source, are crucial to humanity remembering itself. Moderns have become accustomed to modes of mind that strip the soul and psyche of finer attunement to earth, sea, stars and each other. This renders most adrift on a sea of seeming limitless freedoms, to be picked up by any technological hook that would substitute for inner knowing. The map becomes the new computer wiring, insurance policy or bank regulation to follow. But once we scrape from our psyches the encrustation of mind most moderns have settled with (which calcifies the innate senses and finer antennae of knowing, emboldening technologically driven modes of mind and being to take their place), then we are on our way to a vivifying recollection. Here is an earlier presentation of the “mago” root word in “imago” or image. Not coincidentally, perhaps, it is connected to maps. (Mary Ann Ghaffurian, culled from Through a Darkened Door—Light, Part 2 by Mary Ann Ghaffurian PhD [http://magoism.wordpress.com/2012/11/26/through-a-darkened-door-light-part-2-by-mary-ann-ghaffurian-phd/]) A very special online, global group Dearest X, …Which brings to mind the “other” reason why I wanted to write to you … Other than just saying “hello” and letting you know that you are very much missed, I also wanted to share with you about a very special online, global group that I have had the honor of being a part of. This group is called Mago Circle and it was founded by my dear friend, “sister” and colleague, Helen Hwang. Helen’s work and commitment to restoring Mago, Ancestral Mother Goddess, to her rightful place as progenitor and creatrix of the Korean people, has not only been admirable but truly critical during a time when we are in real need for inspiration from thought leaders and scholars with a solid foundation in the arts and research of the sacred feminine. As you know, with the roots of Korean shamanism in the realm of women, it makes perfect sense that Korean spirituality must also have sprung within the womb of Woman … the great cosmic goddess, Mago. While Helen’s work is very much grounded in meticulous research — showcasing Korea to the rest of the world in all of Her depth, herstory, and vibrance — it is more importantly, founded in genuine intentions of love, transparency, and humility. I know that Helen can explain the depth, breadth, and height of her work much better than me so I think it will be better to have her directly share more of herself with you; what I simply hope to do through this letter is perhaps help serve as a familiar hand …. reaching out to you and letting you know that your presence and blessings as a well-regarded and much-admired Korean female shaman and scholar would be much appreciated in Mago Circle. Do you remember, X, … you once told me … about 20 years ago: “Sanity is insanity with a focus.” These words I still remember and hold true … they have helped me through times that were truly dismal and chaotic in my life, and with this reassuring and transformational way of looking at myself, looking at my life, looking at the world, I have made it through. My life continues to have its share of insanity, but I know that with focus, all sanity is restored. I know that my letter to you today may feel unexpected and random (especially after not having seen each other for so, so long), but as you know, somehow, life brings us through twists and turns that may seem awkward and strange at first, but upon retrospect, all makes complete sense. In closing, may I have the honor and pleasure of introducing Helen Hwang and the Mago Circle to you … I realize that you must be very busy, but it is my sincere hope that you will find a little time to acquaint yourself with Helen and this wonderful group of women (and men) who are very much dedicated to restoring the balance and peace of Korea and the world via Mago and her goddess sisters of many names… (Wennifer Lin, culled from her letter to her old friend) I share your call for staying connected with each other at a time of cultural and religious tensions. I too believe that all tensions arise from a patriarchal system of hegemony or domination. In the absence of patriarchal hegemony, there would be little or no tension among human beings. The belief in the Mother Goddess would remove the necessity for aggression and hence domination of other human beings or animals. In the eyes of the Mother, every living being is her creature. Hence love, kindness, nurturing and all that is beautiful would prevail everywhere. Am I sounding too idealistic or am I pining for a utopian society that is just not possible? But in theory, it is possible to return to the spirit of Mother, manifest in everything in nature and in our thoughts and actions. With admiration and preservation of Mother we can change the world for a better place. So with this in mind, I submit to all women (who are the living image of the Great Mother Goddess) and goddess lovers in the world to unite in our efforts to bring back the ideals of the Great Goddess. As an academic, I […]
(Review) Journey into Dreamtime by Munya Andrews, reviewed by Glenys Livingstone

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

(Essay) Ceremony as “Prayer” or Sacred Awareness By Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an excerpt from Chapter 3 of the author’s new book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. MoonCourt Ceremonial Space set for Autumn Equinox ceremony, 2013 Ritual/ceremony is often described as “sacred space.” I understand that to mean “awareness of the space as sacred”: all space is sacred, what shifts is our awareness – awareness of the depth of spacetime, and of the depth of all things and all beings. I understand “sacred awareness” as an awareness of deep relationship and identity with the very cosmic dynamics that create and sustain the Universe; or an awareness of what is involved in the depth of each moment, each thing, each being. Ceremony is a space and time given to expression, contemplation and nurturance of that depth … at least to something of it. Ceremony may be both an expression of deep inner truths – perceived relationship to self, Earth and Cosmos, as well as being a mode of teaching and drawing forth deeper participation. Essentially, ceremony is a way of entering into the depth of the present moment … what is deeply present right here and now, a way of entering deep space and deep time, which is not somewhere else but is right here. Every-thing, and every moment, has Depth – more depth than we usually allow ourselves to contemplate, let alone comprehend. This book, this paper, this ink, the chair, the floor – each has a history and connections that go back, all the way back to Origins. This moment you experience now, in its particular configuration, place, people present, subtle feelings, thoughts, and propensity towards certain directions or outcomes, has a depth – many histories and choices that go back … ultimately all the way back to the beginning. Great Origin is present at every point of space and time – right here. In ceremony we are plugging our awareness into something of that. In this holy context then – in this mindframe of knowing connection, everything one does is a participation in the creation of the Cosmos: for the tribal indigenous woman, perhaps the weaving of a basket; for another, perhaps preparing a meal; for you, perhaps getting on the train to go to a workplace. It is possible to regain this sense, to come to feel that the way one breathes makes a difference – that with it, you co-create the present and the future, and you may even be a blessing on the past. In every moment we receive the co-creation, the work, of innumerable beings, of innumerable moments, and innumerable interactions of the elements, in everything we touch … and so are we touched by them. The local is our touchstone to the Cosmos – it is not separate. Ceremony may be a way into this awareness, into strengthening it. Ceremony is actually ‘doing,’ not just theorizing. We can talk about our personal and cultural disconnection endlessly, but we need to actually change our minds. Ceremony can be an enabling practice – a catalyst/practice for personal and cultural change. It is not just talking about eating the pear, it is eating the pear; it is not just talking about sitting on the cushion (meditating), it is sittingon the cushion. It is a cultural practice wherein we tell a story/stories about what we believe to be so most deeply, about who and what we are. Ceremony can be a place for practicing a new language, a new way of speaking, or spelling – a place for practicing “matristic storytelling”[i] if you like: that is, for telling stories of the Mother, of Earth and Cosmos as if She were alive and sentient. We can “play like we know it,” so that we may come to know it.[ii] Ceremony then is a form of social action. I have found it useful to describe ceremony using and extending words used by Ken Wilber to describe a “transpersonal practice,” which is needed for real change: he said it was a practice that discloses “a deeper self (I or Buddha) in a deeper community (We or Sangha) expressing a deeper truth (It or Dharma).”[iii] My extension of that is: ceremony may disclose a deeper beautiful self (the I/Virgin/Urge to Be/Buddha), in a deeper relational community (the We/Mother/Place of Being/Sangha), expressing a deeper transformative truth (the It/Old One/Space to Be/Dharma). This is the “unitive body,” the “microcosmos” that Charlene Spretnak refers to in States of Grace.[iv] Since ceremony is an opportunity to give voice to deeper places in ourselves, forms of communication are used that the dreamer, the emotional, the body, can comprehend, such as music, drama, simulation, dance, chanting, singing.[v] These forms enable the entering of a level of consciousness that is there all the time, but that is not usually expressed or acknowledged. We enter a realm that is ‘out of time,’ which is commonly said to be not the “real” world, but it is more organic/indigenous to all being and at least as real as the tick-tock world. It is a place “between the worlds,” wherein we may put our hands on the very core of our lives, touch whatever it is that we feel our existence is about, and thus touch the possibility of re-creating and renewing ourselves. NOTES: [i] A term used by Gloria Feman Orenstein in The Reflowering of the Goddess (New York: Pergamon Press, 1990), 147. [ii] As my doctoral thesis supervisor Dr. Susan Murphy once described it to me in conversation. [iii] Ken Wilber, A Brief History of Everything (Massachusetts: Shambhala, 1996), 306-307. [iv] 145. [v] As Starhawk notes, The Spiral Dance, 45. REFERENCES: Livingstone, Glenys. A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. Girl God Books: Bergen, Norway, 2023. Orenstein, Gloria Feman. The Reflowering of the Goddess. New York: Pergamon Press, 1990. Starhawk. The Spiral Dance: A Rebirth of the Ancient Religion of the Great Goddess. New York: Harper and Row, 1999. Wilber, Ken. A Brief History of Everything. Massachusetts: Shambhala, 1996.
(Prose & Photography) Equinox Reflection by Sara Wright

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

This essay is an edited excerpt from Chapter 10 of the author’s new book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. Southern Hemisphere – Feb. 1st/2nd, Northern Hemisphere – August 1st/2nd These dates are traditional, though the actual astronomical date varies. It is the meridian point or cross-quarter day between Summer Solstice and Autumn Equinox, thus actually a little later in early February for S.H., and early August for N.H., respectively. a Lammas/Late Summer table The Old One, the Dark and Shining One, has been much maligned, so to celebrate Her can be more of a challenge in our present cultural context. Lammas may be an opportunity to re-aquaint ourselves with the Crone in her purity, to fall in love with Her again, to celebrate She Who creates the Space to Be. Lammas is a welcoming of the Dark in all its complexity: and as with any funerary moment, there is celebration of the life lived (enjoyment of the harvest) – a “wake,” and there is grieving for the loss. One may fear it, which is good reason to make ceremony, to go deeper, to commit to the Mother, who is the Deep; to “make sacred” this emotion, as much as one may celebrate the hope and wonder of Spring, its opposite. If Imbolc/Early Spring is a nurturing of new young life, Lammas may be a nurturing/midwifing of death or dying to small self, the assent to larger self, an expansion or dissipation – further to the radiance of Summer Solstice. Whereas Imbolc is a Bridal commitment to being and form, where we are the Promise of Life; Lammas may be felt as a commitment marriage to the Dark within, as we accept the Harvest of that Promise, the cutting of it. We remember that the Promise is returned to Source. “The forces which began to rise out of the Earth at the festival of Bride now return at Lammas.”[i] Creativity is called forth when an end (or impasse) is reached: we can no longer rely on our small self to carry it off. We may call Her forth, this Creative Wise Dark One – of the Ages, when our ways no longer work. We are not individuals, though we often think we are. We are Larger Self, subjects within theSubject.[ii] And this is a joyful thing. We do experience ourselves as individuals and we celebrate that creativity at Imbolc. Lammas is the time for celebrating the fact that we are part of, in the context of, a Larger Organism, and expanding into that. Death will teach us that, but we don’t have to wait – it is happening around us all the time, we are constantly immersed in the process, and everyday creativity is sourced in this subjectivity. As it is said, She is “that which is attained at the end of Desire:”[iii] the same Desire we celebrated at Beltaine, has peaked at Summer and is now dissolving form, returning to Source to nourish the Plenum, the manifesting – as all form does. This Seasonal Moment of Lammas/Late Summer celebrates the beginning of dismantling, de-structuring. Gaia-Universe has done a lot of this de-structuring – it is in Her nature to return all to the “Sentient Soup” … nothing is wasted. We recall the Dark Sentience, the “All-Nourishing Abyss”[iv] at the base of being, as we enter this dark part of the cycle of the year. This Dark/Deep at the base of being, to whom we are returned, may be understood as the Sentience within all – within the entire Universe. The dictionary definition of sentience is: “intelligence,” “feeling,” “the readiness to receive sensation, idea or image; unstructured available consciousness,” “a state of elementary or undifferentiated consciousness.”[v] The Old Wise One is the aspect of the Cosmic Triplicity/Triple Goddess that returns us to this sentience, the Great Subject out of whom we arise. We are subjects within the Great Subject – the sentient Universe; we are not a collection of objects, as Thomas Berry has said.[vi] This sentience within, this “readiness-to-receive,” is a dark space, as all places of ending and beginning are. Mystics of all religious traditions have understood the quintessential darkness of the Divinity, known often as the Abyss. Goddesses such as Nammu and Tiamat, Aditi and Kali, are the anthropomorphic forms of this Abyss/Sea of Darkness that existed before creation. She is really the Matrix of the Universe. This sentience is ever present and dynamic. It could be understood as the dark matter that is now recognized to form most of the Universe. This may be recognized as Her “Cauldron of Creativity” and celebrated at this Lammas Moment. Her Cauldron of Creativity is the constant flux of all form in the Universe – all matter is constantly transforming. We are constantly transforming on every level. a Lammas/Late Summer altar These times that we find ourselves in have been storied as the Age of Kali, the Age of Caillaech – the Age of the Crone. There is much that is being turned over, much that will be dismantled. We are in the midst of the revealing of compost, and transformation – social, cultural, and geophysical. Kali is not a pretty one – but we trust She is transformer, and creative in the long term. She has a good track record. Our main problem is that we tend to take it personally. The Crone – the Old Phase of the cycle, creates the Space to Be. Lammas is the particular celebration of the beauty of this awesome One. She is symbolized and expressed in the image of the waning moon, which is filling with darkness. She is the nurturant darkness that may fill your being, comfort the sentience in you, that will eventually allow new constellations to gestate in you, renew you. So the focus in ceremony may be to contemplate opening to Her, noticing our fears and our hopes involved in that. She is the Great Receiver – receives all, and as such She is the Great Compassionate One. Her Darkness may be understood as a Depth of Love. And She is Compassionate because of …
(Video) Winter Solstice Breath Meditation by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

Winter Solstice/Yule Southern Hemisphere – June 20 – 23. Northern Hemisphere – December 20 – 23 Winter Solstice is a celebration of the Mother/Creator aspect of the Triple Goddess in particular – as both Solstices may be, as dark or light come to fullness. Winter Solstice Moment celebrates the ripe fullness of the Dark Womb, and the gateway from that fullness back into new growing light. It is a Birthing Place – into differentiated being, and Her birthing happens in every moment in the breath, and is seamlessly connected with all layers of being – of self, Earth and Cosmos. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nDsVZzXtoyM The Text in the Meditation[i] Take a deep breath and let it go. Notice the Void at the bottom of emptying your breath … feeling it, and feeling the Urge to breathe as it arises. And again … feeling it over and over – this breath that arises out of the full emptiness in every moment, birthing you in every moment. – Recall some of the birthings in your life, your actual birth – see it there in your mind’s eye … you coming into being – your Nativity, your Nativity. Recall projects you have brought into being, new beings within yourself, perhaps children, new beings in others, how you have been Creator and Created – even at the same time … who was birthing who? Staying for a while with the many, many birthings in your life. – recalling now Earth-Gaia’s many birthings out of the Dark everyday … the dawn is constant as She turns. See Her in your mind’s eye – the constant dawning around the globe, the constant birthing. Recall Earth’s many births right now of all beings – as day breaks around the globe – the physical, emotional, spiritual births. Her many, many birthings everyday, and throughout the eons. recalling now Universe-Gaia’s many birthings – happening in every moment – right now in real time and space … supernovas right now, stars and planets being born right now. Her many, many birthings in every moment and throughout the eons. – recalling now Universe-Gaia’s many birthings – happening in every moment – right now in real time and space … supernovas right now, stars and planets being born right now. Her many, many birthings in every moment and throughout the eons. Come back to your breath – this wonder – none of it separate … the Origin Ever-Present, birthing you in every moment – out of Her Fertile Dark, in real time and space. Feeling this breath, Her breath. NOTES: [i] Glenys Livingstone, PaGaian Cosmology, Winter Solstice ceremonial script, p. 195-196. Reference: Glenys Livingstone, PaGaian Cosmology. Music: Fish Nite Moon by Tim Wheater, permission generously given Images: – Birth of the Goddess, Erich Neumann, The Great Mother, pl. 155. See https://pagaian.org/book/cover-goddess-image/ – Winter Solstice window, MoonCourt Australia 2016 – some sources unknown
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.

(Essay 4) Magos, Muses, and Matrikas: The Magoist Cosmogony and Gynocentric Unity by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D.

[Author’s note: This paper is published in the journal, the Gukhak yeonguronchong 국학연구론총 (Issue 14, December 2014). Here it will appear in five sequels including the response by Dr. Glenys Livingstone. Numbers of end notes differ from the original paper.] (Part 4) Parallels between Magos and Matrikas The numeric fluidity of a particular pantheon of Goddesses from three to nine is no isolated phenomenon in Western Muse tradition only. Laura K. Chamberlain’s research on the Hindu Goddess Matrika, one of the major manifestations of Durga, bears a close resemblance to the counterpart in Magoism.[1] In the story of Mago Halmi, Mago had eight daughters and dispatched seven daughters to seven regions/islands who respectively became the shaman progenitor of the region. She lived with the youngest daughter, whose region was the center of Magoism.[2] The Mago pantheon is also addressed as Gurang (Nine Goddesses) in the case of Gaeyang Halmi (Sea Goddess/Grandmother).[3] Among others, a parallel between Chamberlian’s delineation of the worship of the Asta Matrikas (Eight Mother Goddesses) and folk rituals concerning Mago is striking with regards to the aniconic rituals offered at “crossroads, rivers, the sea, and mountains” to Matrika. In the case of Magoism, the veneration of rocks and mountains that may be seen as “animistic beliefs” is widespread throughout the Korean peninsula. The linguistic resemblance is also present between Matrikas and Magos. According to Chamberlian, Mai (mother) and Ajima (grandmother) are the “two of the oldest names for the goddess in Nepal.” [4] They appear analogous with the Korean words Eomma 엄마 (Omai 오마이, Omasi 오마시, and etc. for mother) and Ajime (아지매, a female relative or aunt), a dialect from which the modern term Ajuma (아줌마, neighbor woman often pejoratively referring to a housewife) is derived. Chamberlain also notes the varied number of Matrikas and writes: The inconsistency in the number of Matrikas found in the valley [Indus] today (seven, eight, or nine) possibly reflects the localization of goddesses [ ] Although the Matrikas are mostly grouped as seven goddesses over the rest of the Indian Subcontinent, an eighth Matrikas has sometimes been added in Nepal to represent the eight cardinal direction. In Bhaktapur, a city in the Kathmandu Valley, a ninth Matrika is added to the set to represent the center.[5] On the one hand, it is true that the indeterminate number of Matrikas, as Chamberlain points out, explains localization of Hindu Goddesses in the Indian Subcontinent. On the other hand, it is equally possible to posit that there was a Goddess myth once shared by the members of mother community in a remote past. A daughter community, which resided in the mother community, came to migrate farther away from the mother community. She herself became a mother and was known as the mother community by her own daughter communities. From the perspective of the original mother community, the memory of the original myth by granddaughter communities would be fragmented and flavored with their own cultural, historical, and linguistic backgrounds. After many generations passed, granddaughter communities would lose the memory of the original myth and that they would not recognize kindred communities all over the world. However, the first mother was wise. She chose one daughter to carry on the legacy of the original myth. This is exactly what Mago stories tells us. When all is said and done, the numeric similarity of three, seven, eight, or nine and the inconsistency of the number are only some of the fragmented testimonies by granddaughter communities. Under such circumstances, Mago’s lineage, especially the first three generations, works as a blueprint of the family tree lost among granddaughter communities. (Read Part 3, to be continued in Part 5, Dr. Glenys Livingstone’s response to this essay.) References: Bak, Geum (Bak, Jesang). Budoji (Epic of the Emblem City). Eun-Soo Kim, translated and annotated. Seoul: Hanmunhwa, 2002, 1986c. Baring, Anne and Julies Cashford, eds. The Myth of the Goddess: Evolution of an Image. London: Viking Arkana, 1991. Chamberlain, Laura K. “Durga and the Dashain Harvest Festival: From the Indus to Katmandu Valleys” in ReVision (vol. 25, no. 1, Summer 2002), 24-32. Chung, Yenkyu. Ancient Korea and the Dawn of History on the Pamirs. Seoul: Jimoondang, 2007. Daly, Mary. Pure Lust: Elemental Feminist Philosophy. Boston, MA: Beacon Press, 1984. Davis, Elizabeth Gould. The First Sex. New York, NY: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1971, 33. Hwang, Helen Hye-Sook. “Issues in Studying Mago, the Great Goddess of East Asia: Primary Sources, Gynocentric History, and Nationalism,” in The Constant and Changing Faces of the Goddess: Goddess Traditions of Asia, eds. Deepak Shimkhada and Phyllis Herman (Cambridge Scholars Publishing 2008), 10-33. ____________________. “The Female Principle in the Magoist Cosmogony.” Ochre Journal of Women’s Spirituality, (Spring 2007) [http://www.ochrejournal.org/2007/scholarship/hwang1.html]. ____________________. Seeking Mago, the Great Goddess: A Mytho-Historic-Thealogical Reconstruction of Magoism, an Archaically Originated Gynocentric Tradition of East Asia. Ph.D. Dissertation: Claremont Graduate University, 2005. Kim, Busik. The Samguk Sagi (History of Three Kingdoms). Translated and annotated by ByongSu Lee. Seoul: Elyu Munhwasa, 1977. Lee, Ki-baik. A New History of Korea. Translated by E. Wagner and E. Shultz. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1984. Smith, Barbara. “Greece” in The Feminist Companion to Mythology. Carolyne Larrington ed. Hammersmith, London: Pandora Press, 1992. Yoon, Thomas. BuDoZhi: The Genesis of MaGo (Mother Earth) and The History of the City of Heavenly Ordinance. Notre Dame, IN: Cross Cultural Publications, 2003. Walker, Barbara G. The Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1983. [1] Levy 1990; Slusser 1982, cited in Laura K. Chamberlain, “Durga and the Dashain Harvest Festival: From the Indus to Katmandu Valleys” in ReVision (vol. 25, no. 1, Summer 2002), 24-32. [2] See Tales [9-1] and [5-3] in the Appendix, Hwang (2005), 391-8. [3] I was able to join a field research trip organized by the research team of Kunguk University’s Korean Literature Graduate Studies 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. Only after the trip, I realized Gaeyang Halmi with her eight daughters was …
(Essay 2 Part 1) Why Do I Love Korean Historical Dramas? by Anna Tzanova

Part 1 Fans, journalists, critics, and academia in multiple fields have studied this world phenomenon; have written blogs, articles, books; and presented in conferences, dissecting, and making predictions. Still, the magic and mystery of its success persists to be as thrilling as ever. This is the way I see it: DELIGHTING THE SENSES
(Pilgrimage Essay 1) Report of First Mago Pilgrimage to Korea by Helen Hwang

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