December 4, 2014October 2, 2019 Mago Work Admin

(Essay 1) Blossoms in Dark Times – Triads of Women Saints in Catholic tradition by Angelika Heike Rüdiger

Virga sapientiae floruit, facies Matris apparuit.

When I was a little girl I used to look forward to one special day soon after the first candle on the green Advent wreath had been burning. One of my grandmothers or my great-grandmother went out into our little orchard in the garden and cut a branch from the plum tree covered with hoar-frost, brought it into the house and put it into a bowl of water.

I knew the branch would blossom on Christmas Eve. I knew that it was cut in honor of a virgin, in whose dress wintry branches caught ere she was led to prison to suffer for her faith, but the branches blossomed. I had learned that she had been jealously guarded by her father and had been closed up into a tower. But she had three windows made in the wall through which light fell into her dark prison.

I am talking of St. Barbara who suffered martyrdom for her faith in the year 306 AD as the legend has it. I was spared from the details of her cruel fate. Legend tells us that she was the daughter of Dioskuros who lived in Nikomedia (today Izmit). He enclosed her into a tower to be sure that she remained untouched by men. But Barbara corresponded with Origenes and was visited by Valentinus, who gave out to be a physician. Barbara demanded to be baptized, and according to the custom of the time she had a greater basin of water built into the tower. She had also three windows made as a token of the holy trinity. Her father was outraged when she declared that she was a Christian. He wanted to kill her but she escaped through the wall opening miraculously. But she was finally caught, tortured cruelly, and beheaded by her own father. The relics of Barbara were brought to Venice around the year 1000. They were first kept at San Marco and later brought to the monastery of S. Giovanni Evangelista on the Island of Torcello close to Venice.

There are numerous folk customs which are connected with Saint Barbara. One is the cutting of Barbara-branches I have described above. I still keep to this custom of my family. If the branches are cut on the 4^th they will show the first green tips on the day of solstice and the blossoms open on Christmas Eve. I lived some time close to the Rhine and there Barbara became the companion of St. Nikolaus giving presents to the children.

A verse from the 15^th century reads:

Sankt Bärbel, die vermag zu stärken.

Denn wer in Ihren Diensten steht,

nie ohne Sakrament von hinnen geht.

(St Barbara, she can give strength to us. Whoever is in her service will not die without sacrament.)

She became one of the 14 saints you can call in situations of extreme danger, the 14 Holy Helpers. She is best known as the patron saint of miners, although she also protects other trades as well. She also protects against lightning strikes.

Barbara is one of the Three Holy Maidens. She was merged into a triad with two other holy virgins, namely with Margareta of Antioch, who is the protectress of all virgins and women, especially of those giving birth, and who fought evil in the shape of a dragon, and with Katharina of Alexandria, who is often depicted with a book as token of wisdom and learning or with a wheel and a sword as token of her martyrdom.

There is a phrase that says:

Margareta mit dem Wurm,

Barbara mit dem Turm

Katharina mit dem Radl,

das sind die drei heiligen Madl.

„Margareta with the dragon, Barbara with the tower, Katharina with the wheel, these are the Three Holy Maidens.”

In some landscapes the one or the other may be exchanged for Dorothea of Caesarea or Mary of Magdala. Often the three holy Maidens who are also called Virgines Capitales are depicted with the Mother Mary so that two of them form a triad with Mary. The mystical marriage of Saint Catherine to infant Jesus is often the subject of these pictures. Thus we see Mary sitting on a throne with Margareta and Katharina in the work of Goossen van der Weyden (1432-1514) [1] or Mary with Katharina and Barbara as in Hans Memling’s work (1474) [2], to name just two examples. At times, one of the Three Holy Maidens was replaced by another saint, as in the work of Piero di Cosimo (1462-1521), in which Rosa of Viterbo replaced Margareta or Barbara, respectively [3].

This grouping of virgins with a dominant mother figure has a parallel in the tradition of the Eastern Church. The triad of Christian virtues of faith, hope and love (Pistis, Elpis, Agape, or Fides, Spes, Caritas) are represented as daughters of the divine wisdom, Sancta Sophia [4]. The latter group became known in western Europe already prior to the 6^th century. The cult had centers in France (Cahors), in Luxembourg and in the Rhineland north of the Mosel.

To be continued.

Read Meet Mago Contributor Angelika Heike Rüdiger.

Bibliography

Diers, M. 1998. Hildegard von Bingen (Deutscher TaschenbuchVerlag, München).

Gorys, E.1997. Lexikon der Heiligen (Deutscher Taschenbuchverlag, München).

Maier, B. 1994. Lexikon der keltischen Religion und Kultur. (Alfred Körner Verlag, Stuttgart).

Maier, B. 2003. Die Religion der Germanen (C.H.Beck, München).

Reeve, M. D. (ed.) Wright, N. (trans.) 2007. Geoffrey of Monmouth: the History of the Kings of Britain: An edition and translation of De gestis Britonum (Historia Regum Brittannie). Arthurian Studies. (Woodbridge, The Boydell Press).

Zender, M. 1959. Räume und Schichten Mittelalterlicher Heiligenverehrung in ihrer Bedeutung für die Volkskunde. Die Heiligen des Mittleren Maaslandes und der Rheinlande in Kulturgeschichte und Kultverbreitung. (Rehinland-Verlag, Düsseldorf).

Links:

http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drei_heilige_Frauen

Weblinks to the images I mentioned in the essay:

[1] http://media.kunst-fuer-alle.de/img/41/m/41_00350597.jpg

[2] https://www.kunstkopie.de/kunst/akg/pics/memling-kopiemariamitkindkatharina_hi.jpg

[3]http://media.kunst-fuer-alle.de/img/41/mk/41_00254926~_piero-di-cosimo_thronende-maria-mit-kind-und-den-heiligen-petrus,-rosa,-katharina-von-alexandrien-und-johannes-dem-evangelisten.jpg

[4]https://www.magoism.net/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/6c9fd-sophia2bcaritas2bfides2bspes.jpg

Leave a Reply to the main postCancel reply

The Hag and the Hare by Jude Lally

Honoring the Cailleach in her hare form by Jude Lally I can count the number of times I’ve seen hares in the wild on two hands. Once while on the Isle of Mull I was walking with a friend through a large wood. The path we were on cut right through the wood so you could see the path you had walked behind you and as it stretched out in front on past the wood. I remember looking back and seeing what I though was a small dog running towards us. We turned around to greet this small dog but as it approached with it’s odd gait we were surprised to see it was a hare. As she approached she stopped and sat down, looking at us curiously and then bounded off into the wood. That was a curious encounter. The second encounter was on visiting a friend for my birthday, which is the beginning of march. Her house is nestled into a small Scottish village and the view stretches over fields that lead down to a river. That morning I was watching the last wisps of mist swirl across the fields until I saw several hares wildly racing around. It was wonderful to watch them. The folklore from both Scotland and Ireland tell us stories of the Old Hag, the Cailleach shapeshifting into hare form. Needle felted hare art by Jude Lally One story which appears many times begins with someone becoming suspicious when their dairy cows stops producing milk. If a hare is seen in the area they are suspected of being the guilty suspect, and taking milk directly from the cow. Often the men would gather together to head out to shoot the hare. They return, not being able to shoot the hare, as the hare is actually the shapeshifting old woman, the Cailleach, and impervious to normal bullets. The next day the farmer heads out again to look for the hare, armed with a silver bullet, he shoots the hare but only injures it. The men follow the hare which leads them to a cottage on the far side of the fields and on entering they find an old woman sitting by the fire with a wounded leg. In this story the men refuse to kill an old woman but she dies a month later due to her injuries and then the cow starts giving milk again. The Cailleach Stone & Hare cloud – Needle felted art by Jude Lally Another tale of the Cailleach shapeshifting into hare form happens at harvest time. As the field is harvested and the grain cut and gathered into sheafs there is less and less places for the hare to hide. The hare (ie the hag) is then driven field to field until she reaches the last field of the last man in the village to cut the last sheaf. The hag then couldn’t escape so the farmer in cutting his last sheaf, which sheltered the hare, had to look after the hag/hare throughout the winter. This tradition various fro country to county but had the farmer looking after the spirit of the hag, and keeping her until the spring. References: (NFSC, Vol. 0950: 366). National Folklore Collection, Ireland (Meet Mago Contributor) Jude Lally.
(Goddess Writing 5) Notes by Kaalii Cargill

Life size image of Lilith by Kaalii Cargill, 1992. Acrylic and pencil. Author’s note: We can question the validity of differentiating between masculine and feminine principles or, indeed, the validity of perpetuating any dualisms. However, back in 1999 when I was writing my doctoral thesis, I found the following useful in sorting my understanding of the forces at work within myself and in the World. Edited excerpt from Don’t Take It Lying Down: Life According to the Goddess – Just as the elements of the feminine principle emerge from archetypal reality, so do the elements of the masculine principle. We can see this in the patriarchal myths that still underlie the modern worldview. These myths have, however, become unconsciously accepted as absolute truth, determining beliefs, social values, and the current religious attitude to science.[i] The basic character of the archetypal masculine has been described as rationalising, abstracting, and controlling, as in the myths of one supreme male God: the Judeo-Christian Jehovah, Allah in the Islamic world, and Zeus in ancient Greece, a king-like energy also personified in ancient and modern heroes. Psychologically, the masculine principle represents an emphasis on individual focus, rational intentionality and personal will; a sense of personal identity that rests in a separate self answerable to the law of the Father as God or King. The archetypal masculine has been described as focused, divisive, and assertive, while the archetypal feminine has been described as diffuse, connective, and receptive. Obviously both men and women can embody these qualities. Understanding and experiencing the differences can allow us to develop choice about which principle we call on in our lives. Since the advent of Sky God religions, patriarchal consciousness is in the territory of eternal spirit, that which always was and always will be, a position fundamentally opposed to the genetic principle, the principle of creativity and generativity that underlies aspects of feminine consciousness.[ii] This reflects the philosophical stance of Socrates, Plato and Descartes in which all that is pure and constant is incorporeal, not of the body, with little place for subjective embodied experience. I have often wondered if the strong attraction to Eastern spirituality arises in part from this philosophical idea of eternal spirit. It is as if two generations of disillusioned Westerners have turned to Eastern spirituality without fully realising that they may still caught within a transcendent philosophy. It is, however, a confusing task to sort this particular pile of beans and seeds. There is a fundamental paradox in patriarchal consciousness – it cannot avoid the use of nature symbols except in abstract conceptualisations such as mathematics.[iii] As symbols of the feminine principle, life-giving nature symbols do not belong in patriarchal consciousness. Even while it attempts to distort and degrade the nature symbols, patriarchal consciousness wants to take over the creativity of the life-giving power of the feminine. This can be seen in ordinary English language. The following sentences show words relating to the life-giving aspect of the feminine being applied to activities or projects of ‘masculine” creation; Our nation was born out of a desire for freedom. His writings are products of his fertile imagination. His experiments spawned a host of new theories. Your actions will only breed violence. He hatched a clever scheme. He conceived a brilliant theory of molecular motion. Universities are incubators for new ideas. The theory of relativity first saw the light of day in 1905. The University of Chicago was the birthplace of the nuclear bomb.[iv] A more recent addition might be: I create my own reality. The root metaphor for creativity in the English-speaking world is procreation, predominantly the function of women. What patriarchal consciousness does, however, is translate the feminine function of creativity into activities and projects characterised by masculine principles, leaving the feminine principle without the pride of creation. And leaving many of us confused about the philosophies and spiritual paths we adopt. One of the strongest links we still have to Goddess is through the life-giving power of the feminine. Women still give life through their bodies. This is so obvious that we forget the magic of it. Life does not come through men’s bodies, test tubes, or incubators; life still comes into being through women’s bodies. Despite contraceptive chemicals and more than two thousand years of negative conditioning, women’s bodies continue to respond to the cycles of the moon, to the rhythms of Nature. The ancient magic of the life-giving power of women is still with us. Take a moment to consider the extraordinary fact that women have always been able to do something that men cannot do: grow and bring forth new life from their bodies. That we take this for granted (and even see it as a burden women must bear) represents a terrible loss of power. Women are the life-givers, and this is a sacred task. Today we are on the threshold of losing this completely. To science and technology. To the misinformation of a patriarchal culture that denigrates Nature. (Meet Mago Contributor) Kaalii Cargill. [i] EC Whitmont, 1982, Return of the Goddess, Guernsey, Great Britain, The Guernsey Press, p 78. [ii] E Neumann, 1991, The Great Mother, Princeton, NJ, Princeton University Press., p. 58. [iii] ibid. p. 50. [iv] G Lakoff & M Johnson, 1981, The metaphorical structure of the human conceptual system, in DA Norman, ed., Perspectives on Cognitive Science. First Annual Meeting of the Cognitive Science Society, Logola, CA, Ablex Publishing Corp., pp. 74-75.
(Essay 3) The Magoist Calendar: Mago Time inscribed in Sonic Numerology by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

[Author’s Note: This is my latest research that has led me to restore the 13-month, 28-day Mago Calendar, which will be included at the end of its sequels. See Mago Almanac: 13 Month 28 Day Calendar (Book A), published in 2017.] THE SECOND CALENDAR Then, the Earth had increasingly so much work in all regions. Biodiversity went overboard. The terrestrial song became uncontrollable. The initial calendar became defunct. Lifeforms were left uncoordinated. The Earth fell into disorder, as she had no one to tune the song of earthlings in harmony with the cosmic music of creativity. The Earth was in need of sentient beings who could undertake the task. Mago’s descendants were to be born. Humans were entrusted to cultivate the earthly sound property by the Nine Mago Creatrix. The Budoji writes:
(Poem) Resurrection by Sara Wright

Photo by Sara Wright Yesterday, rain, fog and mist lifted the snow into sweet moisture – laden air. This morning the skin of the earth turns white and wild winds howl. I rest in peace. A little gray titmouse wakes me up. Spring weather is “bewildering”. The origin of the word bewilder helps explain why I find these radical changes so comforting. The word bewilder is a combination of two words “thoroughly,” and “wilder”…to lure into the wild. Perhaps to return to the source. The weather is still wild…. Although Earth’s wilderness is fragmented to such an extent that it doesn’t exist anymore at the moment except as weather, it lives on as potential. Without human interference this pulsing blue –green planet spinning through dark space is more than capable of rewilding herself. This is Resurrection. https://www.magoism.net/2014/12/meet-mago-contributor-sara-wright/
(Art) Gaia #9 Incandesence by Deborah Jane Milton, Ph.D.

S/He Who Keeps the Fire Too long relegated to the shadows, woman’s fire now ignites heads, hearts and hands to live the power of love. (Meet Mago Contributor) Deborah Jane Milton, Ph.D.
Sandhill Cranes – a Nation of Women with Wings by Sara Wright

Sara wright in NM at the Bosque del Apache, photographer unknown Historically they used the Eastern flyway but were extirpated by hunting… a slow recovery is in process and the stately Sandhill cranes are once again returning to breed in Maine… so far only birders have been keeping track of their numbers but these majestic pre-historic birds have haunting cries that are often described as bugles, rattles, croaks and trumpets and can be heard 2 -3 miles away. They also utter sounds that combine a kind of brrring in unison. Their impending arrival next month calls up a chant I love… “There’s a river of birds in migration, a nation of women with wings.There’s a river of birds in migration, a nation of warriors with wings.” I remember the chill that crawled up my spine as those words seeped into my body all those years ago… I wept, not knowing why. I had exactly the same experience when I first heard the brrring cries of Sandhill cranes heading towards the river to roost in New Mexico seven years ago. Entranced, I stood there struck dumb – awed as tears slid down my face. I re -membered, felt something – but didn‘t know what it was… and whatever it was/is still haunts me when I hear that song or recall the cries of the Sandhills circling round in the sky to orient themselves to the right direction before heading to their northern home to breed. I am a woman in migration, a woman with wings…. Today when I listen to the cranes on You Tube, – I‘m impatient thinking about them and need to hear their eerie unearthly calls before they arrive – I am keenly aware that we have lost three billion birds. And even in the fields I visit to watch Sandhills feeding on old grain and corn I also see the signs: POISON STAY OUT. This vulnerable population is ingesting pesticides that are sprayed on the fields – not just here but everywhere. Not one birder I know who visits these fields to watch the cranes ever mentions those signs. The cranes are also actively hunted in the fall and spring along the Eastern (Tennessee and Kentucky) and Central Flyways (fourteen more states situated on or near the central highway – the route most heavily traveled). In Maine there is not enough evidence to be certain about just how the Sandhills get here, but my guess is that they use the Eastern Flyway because they remember the route from long ago when they once migrated to Maine in healthy numbers. Some observers in Maine and other New England states believe they are seeing the same flock (s) migrating north and south. These birds, like so many species, were extirpated by hunters… it’s taken a couple of centuries for them to begin a cautious return. That we have Sandhills nesting so close to my home is a source of poignancy and pure joy. I am a woman who sees… Women and Birds belong together: we are the hunted ones, dismissed despised, invisible, murdered. Like birds. Who will notice when we are gone? I am only too aware of how many women we have lost to violence, rape, and murder – the reality that patriarchy perpetuates. Men must have their guns. Women must remain silent or be silenced … We could rise up as ‘a nation of women’ to stop the carnage but as things stand now most women can’t even be civil to one another across the isles. Our resistance to quelling the bird and animal hunting massacre speaks to our tacit acceptance of the superiority of man, the rightness of his love of guns and lust, our acceptance of the worst objectification women have ever been subjected to, and the need to allow the killing machine to continue. Just like the birds we are under attack by the NRA. Is our only viable option flight? What I have learned from the various women’s movements is that taking to the streets is not enough, standing up for our beliefs is not enough. Truth telling is not enough. Endurance is not enough. Patriarchy isn’t crumbling – Yet. I’d like to think it might be in its death throes because this destructive system is now turning on itself – like a dragon swallowing its own tail. Nature is also intervening to redress hubris and imbalance, graphically demonstrating to humans how stupid we have become as a species. As we poison the fields the Sandhills feed in, we poison ourselves. The elements of wind and water make certain that no home grown food or field will be spared. I am a woman in flight. I dream of joining the cranes, who in their most ancient wisdom understand that no species survives without genuine community. Not pockets of like-minded folks, but the kind of community that embraces all differences, in deference to the whole. Our culture praises human endeavors and independence while I look to cranes who reveal and reflect the interdependence that all of us need to survive. Leave until it’s safe to return? I‘m learning how to listen…. During the month of March I don my feathery cape, becoming a bird woman who is obsessed by bird migration. Even with masses of snow covering the ground my beloveds are starting to migrate to their summer homes and breeding grounds. Each morning I consult Cornell’s bird cast to find out which birds flew over my county last night. At First Light, long before dawn I am outdoors standing in the snow recording a new migrant call, a cardinal song, a courting male dove, turkey twittering, gobbling, chickadee convocations – embracing a chorus of avian concertos. I watch the pair of ravens fly through a deep blue crack between twilight and dawn, silent, perhaps praying for all. Messengers in flight. I scatter the first round of seed. Once inside I place some on my windowsill so that the chickadees and I are …
(Poetry) Peace in Connection by Belinda Subraman

Memories like bullets lifeless until held or loaded… The wind comes around again magnified from different angles. Crystals are in the net, an elephant in the room. A gun reaper steals joy. But it waits by a stream in the woods where a voice in the wind sways the trees, where harmony hums through feet on the ground, arms swaying overhead with infinite connection and awe… where a voice in the wind sways the trees. Meet mago contributor Belinda Subraman
Meet Mago Contributor, Andrew Gurevich

Professor Andrew Gurevich lives with his wife in Portland, Oregon. He has two children and teaches Writing, Religion, Literature and Philosophy at Mt. Hood Community College. While finishing a M.A. in Judeo-Christian history and Biblical Theology, he had a series of transformative experiences that led him to renounce the rigidity and fundamentalism of the modern patriarchal religions and embrace a path of discovery in the archaic, integrative wisdom traditions. After a second M.A. in English Literature, he began to integrate his training in literature, philosophy and theology to explore the ancient mythological structures that underscore our modern social systems and philosophical paradigms. His desire to discover and connect with the sacred feminine began early in life due to a troubled relationship with his own mother and has led him to research the Goddess archetype in the earliest human religious traditions dating back some 800,000 years. His work has appeared in Popular Archaeology, The Ecologist, The Voice, Reality Sandwich, Evolver.net, Current, dtheather.com and in the book “The Afterlife Survey.” He is a regular speaker at academic conferences, community lectures and on radio programs such as Dr. Karen Tate’s “Voices of the Sacred Feminine” and Haseena Patel’s “Leave No Girl Behind.” He has written and lectured about the deep psychology of the climate change denial movement; epigenetics, neuropsychology and religious symbolism; Goddess mythology in the United States and in “Old Europe”; and the resurgence of the sacred feminine in the mystical traditions of Judaism, Christianity and Islam. He is currently writing a book about the Native American myth of the Spider Woman and her mythological and cultural implications for modern society. His work incorporates the latest findings in consciousness studies, neuropsychology, hemispheric science and cultural anthropology to explore the ancient “technologies” of our collective wisdom traditions and how these technologies have been used to create personal and communal identity.
(Poem) Defiance by Mary Saracino

I was bred to appease, close the gaping mouth of desire, a child speaking in the foreign tongue of docility relying on conforming consonants, denying voracious vowels their due, jailing truth behind clenched teeth, taut lips, a shaking, frightened heart.

(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 […]
(Special Post Mother Teresa 2) A Role Model for Women? by Mago Circle Members

[Editorial Note: The following is an edited version of the discussion that took place spontaneously on Mago Circle from March 1, 2013 for about two weeks. It was an extensive, heated, yet reflective discussion, now broken into four parts to fit the format of the blog. We thank each and all of the participants for your openness, generosity, and courage to stand up for what you believe and think! Some are marked as anonymous. As someone stated, something may have been “written in the heat of the moment” and some might like to change it at a later time. So we inform our readers that nothing is written in stone. As a matter of fact, the discussion is ongoing, now with Magoism Blog readers. Please comment and respond as you wish.] Part II: We Disagree! Stand up for what you believe but be open-minded! Naa Ayele Kumari: I am going to step away from the common responses and say this… Binary is only no in betweens if you choose sides and can’t see the whole. I have been a part of black consciousness movements and women’s movements and both have the capacity for progress as well as extreme viewpoints. Both have the capacity to become so hypercritical that the movement itself transcends common human compassion and understanding. Mother Teresa was a human being with flaws and goodness. She had a public image and private fears and insecurities.. l like all of us. She lived her life the best way she knew how.. Like all of us. She made mistakes.. misjudgments.. Like all of us. But she also DID help and inspire others to help too. It is this dualistic thinking that forces people to feel like they have to assign the label of good or bad and no in between. None of us are all good or all bad.. so it seems to me that to label her has an evil traitor who let people die is no better than labeling her an Angel of god who did no wrong. She was a woman who lived her life and managed to come to worldwide fame and inspire others to love at a time and in an institution that was highly patriarchal and women were not raised up at all. Mother Goddesses in Africa were known for great nurturing and care symbolized by carrying a baby and also carried a machete on the other side for justice. This was the fine balance of wholeness…she was the gentle rain and the storm.. This was binary, but not one or the other but both.. Opposite ends of the same pole. [H]: I’m having a powerful visceral effect from this conversation. I feel as if I’m going to vomit violently. Mother Teresa comes to me in dreams and meditations. Makes me wonder what kind of person I’m seen as if I attract her energy. I have always felt so much love for her. Naa Ayele Kumari: If she comes in your dreams and it has been healing for you… Allow it/ her to continue to be healing for you. Its all about love and anything that is not love… Leave it be.. Vomiting is rejecting something that doesn’t belong with you. Embrace love my sister. Antonia McGuire: I think we may all agree that all belief systems initially began to promote a sense of goodness or fairness to some degree, but over time they are corrupted and produce both advantages and disadvantages. Donna Snyder: Yes, Gandhi, too. Back in the 90’s when I was in a band/performance art troupe called Central Nervous System, I shocked all the guys in the band coming out with an improv in response to a melody played on a banjo tuned like a sitar, called exactly that-Yes, Gandhi. Now make no mistake, he is one of my heroes, devoid of the falsified sentimentality that clings to MT. Gandhi’s work was for the world, for the masses, not for the appropriately humbled. Yet I spoke out about his sexual practices, his use of female bodies. Telling the truth about a hero requires courage. Retreating into a blind defense of a myth is a form of ethical cowardice. Anne Wilkerson Allen: Strangely I had a discussion with someone about the “hero’s journey” moving from metaphorical to physical being part of the problem…..when the “demons” are human instead of our own flaws, there seems to be a tendency to point the finger (and gun barrel) elsewhere. [B]: Fascinating & thought-provoking conversation, all. I think the biggest stumbling block I have with MT is how her acceptance of the dogma of the Catholic church blinded her to seeing and then being moved by the suffering of others enough to do something to alleviate & not vicariously celebrate it. No wonder she “suffered a lack of connection with the Divine”. This crisis with her spirituality seems to have been divorced from her and others’ body wisdom. Self-abnegation (perhaps not the same as “sacrifice”) ultimately backfires because some small part of us insists, “I am worthy!” To which I say, “We are all worthy!” [H]: I do not see or feel that she vicariously celebrated the suffering of others. I feel that she devoted her life to deeply loving and serving the poorest of the poor. I have not been to Calcutta and I have also seen some unimaginable poverty in India that is not like anything that I’ve been exposed to before. I truly believe that she had a very deep way of working with suffering that is not necessarily visible to those more accustomed to modern medical intervention and the resources available for such. I have participated in a very small amount of poverty medicine and the resources that we take for granted are just not readily available to MANY. I learned very powerfully from my experience how blessed and fortunate and often very careless we really are with our precious resources. This discussion has been a learning experience for me. I am trying to not take the critical comments […]
(Special Post Mother Teresa 4) A Role Model for Women? by Mago Circle Members

Part IV: Illumination and Consensus Reached [Editorial Note: The following is an edited version of the discussion that took place spontaneously on Mago Circle from March 1, 2013 for about two weeks. It was an extensive, heated, yet reflective discussion, now broken into four parts to fit the format of the blog. We thank each and all of the participants for your openness, generosity, and courage to stand up for what you believe and think! Some are marked as anonymous. As someone stated, something may have been “written in the heat of the moment” and some might like to change it at a later time. So we inform our readers that nothing is written in stone. As a matter of fact, the discussion is ongoing, now with Magoism Blog readers. Please comment and respond as you wish.] Diane Horton: [C], how is it that you do not see that MT had no right to sacrifice other people for any purpose whatsoever? None of us have the right or the place to “sacrifice those we care about” for anything. She was not “above them”. And she had abundant means to do far more for them, to cure and comfort them. If indeed she imagined she had some lofty motivation as you so fervently believe, to use the power she had to withhold medical care from the poverty stricken sick and dying in some misguided and ultimately cruel attempt to bring the world’s attention to their suffering and produce compassion within those who would not otherwise feel it is the most monstrous miscarriage of any expression of what you might refer to as “love” that I have heard of outside of Jim Jones killing all of his followers in Ghana. That’s not Love. That’s not Compassion. That is Manipulation, and manipulation is ego-based. Anne Wilkerson Allen: Yes. It is an indoctrination so deep and so prolonged that it takes a lifetime to overcome…and we rely on the love and compassion of others to help bring us to this understanding….thanks, Diane. Diane Horton: Love you, Anne. [C]: Is thinking that any human being sacrificing inside their very soul, their morals, & all that entails, is actually of lesser value than outside human pain, suffering, even death itself, right? Diane Horton: I’m not sure I understand the question really, but I’ll try a response: one’s inner and outer life are of equal importance because they are all the whole person.

Lammas – the Sacred Consuming by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

Lammas, the first seasonal transition after Summer Solstice, may be summarised as the Season that marks and celebrates the Sacred Consuming, the Harvest of Life. Many indigenous cultures recognised the grain itself as Mother … Corn Mother being one of those images – She who feeds the community, the world, with Her own body: the Corn, the grain, the food, the bread, is Her body. She the Corn Mother, or any other grain Mother, was/is the original sacrifice … no need for extraordinary heroics: it is the nature of Her being. She is sacrificed, consumed, to make the people whole with Her body (as the word “sacrifice” means “to make whole”). She gives Herself in Her fullness to feed the people …. the original Communion. In cultures that preceded agriculture or were perhaps pastoral – hunted or bred animals for food – this cross-quarter day may not have been celebrated, or perhaps it may have been marked in some other way. Yet even in our times when many are not in relationship with the harvest of food directly, we may still be in relationship with our place: Sun and Earth and Moon still do their dance wherever you are, and are indeed the Ground of one’s being here … a good reason to pay attention and homage, and maybe as a result, and in the process, get the essence of one’s life in order. One does not need to go anywhere to make this pilgrimage … simply Place one’s self. The seasonal transition of Lammas may offer that in particular, being a “moment of grace” – as Thomas Berry has named the seasonal transitions, when the dark part of the day begins to grow longer, as the cloak of darkness slowly envelopes the days again: it is timely to reflect on the Dark Cosmos in Whom we are, from Whom we arise and to Whom we return – and upon that moment when like Corn Mother we give ourselves over. This reflection is good, will serve a person and all – to live fully, as well as simply to be who we are: this dark realm of manifesting is the core of who we are. And what difference might such reflection make to our world – personal and collective – to live in this relationship with where we are, and thus who we are. We all are the grain that is harvested and all are Her harvest … perhaps one may use a different metaphor: the truth that may be reflected upon at this seasonal moment after the peaking of Sun’s light at Summer Solstice and the wind down into Autumn, is that everything passes, all fades away … even our Sun shall pass. All is consumed. So What are we part of? (I write it with a capital because surely it is a sacred entity) And how might we participate creatively? We are Food – whether we like it or not … Lammas is a good time to get with the Creative plot, though many find it the most difficult, or focus on more exoteric celebration. May we be interesting food[i]. We are holy Communion, like Corn Mother. Meet Mago Contributor Glenys Livingstone NOTES: [i] This is an expression of cosmologist Brian Swimme in Canticle to the Cosmos DVD series.
(Poem) Samhain by Annie Finch

In the season leaves should love, since it gives them leave to move through the wind, towards the ground they were watching while they hung, legend says there is a seam stitching darkness like a name. Now when dying grasses veil earth from the sky in one last pale wave, as autumn dies to bring winter back, and then the spring, we who die ourselves can peel back another kind of veil that hangs among us like thick smoke. Tonight at last I feel it shake. I feel the nights stretching away thousands long behind the days, till they reach the darkness where all of me is ancestor. I turn my hand and feel a touch move with me, and when I brush my young mind across another, I have met my mother’s mother. Sure as footsteps in my waiting self, I find her, and she brings arms that hold answers for me, intimate, waiting, bounty: “Carry me.” She leaves this trail through a shudder of the veil, and leaves, like amber where she stays, a gift for her perpetual gaze. From Eve (Carnegie Mellon University Press, 2010) (Meet Mago Contributor) Annie Finch
(Video) Autumn Equinox/Mabon Poetry by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

The Autumnal Equinox occurs each year in the range of March 20-23 in the Southern Hemisphere, and in the range of September 20 -23 in the Northern Hemisphere. Autumn Equinox is a point of sacred balance: it is the point of balance in the dark part of Earth’s annual cycle. Sun is equidistant between North and South as it was/is at Spring Equinox, but in this dark phase of the cycle, the trend is toward increasing dark. Henceforth the dark part of the day will exceed the light part: thus it is a Moment of certain descent … and a sacred Moment for feeling and contemplating the grief and power of loss, for ceremoniously joining personal and collective grief and loss with the larger Self in whom we are. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vcZflKLkvP8 Below is the text of the video. It is based on the traditional poetry for PaGaian Autumn Equinox/Mabon ceremony[i]. This is the Moment of the Autumnal Equinox in our Hemisphere – the moment of balance of light and dark in the dark part of the cycle. The light and dark parts of the day in the South and in the North of our planet, are of equal length at this time. We feel for the balance in this moment – Earth as She is poised in relationship with the Sun … breathing in the light, swelling with it, letting our breath go to the dark, staying with it. In our part of Earth, the balance is tipping into the dark. We remember the coolness of it. This is the time when we give thanks for our harvests – all that we have gained. And we remember too the sorrows, losses involved. The story of Old tells us that Persephone, Beloved Daughter, is given the wheat from Her Mother – the Mystery, knowledge of life and death. She receives it graciously. But she sets forth into the darkness – both Mother and Daughter grieve that it is so. Demeter, the Mother, says: “You are offered the wheat in every moment … I let you go as Child, most loved of Mine: you descend to Wisdom, to Sovereignty. You will return as Mother, co-Creator with me. You are the Seed in the Fruit, becoming the Fruit in the Seed. Inner Wisdom guides your path.” We give thanks for our harvests – our lives they are blessed. We are Daughters and Sons of the Mother. Yet we take our Wisdom and all that we have gained, and remember the sorrows – the losses involved. We remember the grief of the Mother, of mothers and lovers everywhere, our grief. Persephone descends. The Beloved One is lost. Persephone goes forth into the darkness to become Queen of that world. She tends the sorrows. The Seed represents our Persephones, who tends the sorrows – we are the Persephones, who may tend the sorrows. We go out into the night with Her and plant our seeds. Persephone blesses us with her fertile promise: “You have waxed into the fullness of life, And waned into darkness; May you be renewed in tranquility and wisdom[ii].” These represent our hope. The Seed of life never fades away. She is always present. Blessed be the Mother of all life. Blessed be the life that comes from Her and returns to Her. We tie red threads on each other: we participate in the Vision of the Seed – of the continuity of Life, that continues beneath the visible. The Mother knowledge grows within us. Our hope is in the Sacred Balance of the Cosmos – the Thread of Life, the Seed that never fades away: it is the Balance of Grief and Joy, the Care that we may feel in our Hearts. NOTES: [i] Glenys Livingstone, PaGaian Cosmology, p. 239-247. [ii] Charlene Spretrnak, Lost Goddesses of Early Greece, p. 116. REFERENCES: Livingstone, Glenys. PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion. NE: iUniverse, 2005. Spretnak, Charlene. Lost Goddesses of Early Greece: a Collection of Pre-Hellenic Myths. Boston: Beacon Press, 1992/1978.
(Art & Poem) Spring Equinox by Sudie Rakusin & Annie Finch

A SEED FOR SPRING EQUINOX . . . till I feel the earth around the place my head has lain under winter’s touch, and it crumbles. Slanted weight of clouds. Reaching with my head and shoulders past the open crust dried by spring wind. Sun. Tucking through the ground that has planted cold inside me, made its waiting be my food. Now I watch the watching dark my light’s long-grown dark makes known. Art and poem are included in Celebrating Seasons of the Goddess (Mago Books, 2017). (Meet Mago Contributor) Sudie Rakusin (Meet Mago Contributor) Annie Finch
(Essay) Walking with Bb by Sara Wright

Walking with Bb: a story exploring the psychic connection between one woman and her bear. Preface: The black bear – hunting season in Maine is brutal – four months of bear hell – five if one includes the month where hunters can track bears for “practice” with hounds – separate mothers and cubs, terrorize them, tree them and do anything but legally kill them. During the legal slaughter, Hunters bait bears with junk food by putting old donuts etc. in cans and shoot the bear while he or she is eating. Most bears (82 percent) are slaughtered in this manner, the rest are killed by hounding and trapping. The season begins in August and lasts through December. Trapping, by the way, is illegal in every state but Maine. Black bears are hated, and that hatred will, of course, eventually result in their extirpation. I had a shy (male) year old black bear visiting my house this past summer with whom I developed a friendship, and what follows is part of our story: Last Saturday I was walking down the road when I remembered that I had not done my daily “circle of protection” imaging for Bb (standing as he was the day he visited me at the window early in August). When I began to do this another picture of Bb moving on all four feet with his face turned towards mine super-imposed itself over his standing image. I could almost see his expression, but not quite. I didn’t know what this imaging meant beyond that we were communicating in some unknown way, and he was in the area (not a good thing on hunting Saturdays). He had not been coming in most nights and I was worried… That night he came. He is still making nightly visits five days later, the most sequentially consistent visits since September 15th, the day I believed that he had been shot. This experience prompted me to write about telepathy and precognition. It is close to All Hallows and the full Hunter’s moon (Nov 3). I keep listening to Charlie Russell’ story which reminds me that loving bears (especially male bears) is hard, almost a sure recipe for disaster, and that I was not alone in this deep concern for and fear of losing Bb. I can barely stand to remember my other bear losses and I can’t stand feeling them. Even after I wrote about the incident with Bb, the experience seemed to carry a charge that didn’t dissipate. Had I missed something? Next I wrote “Root Healer,” exploring the possibility that as I continued to act as Bb’s “little bear mother” now employing psychic techniques to keep him safe (in some desperation as it was the only means left open to me to protect this very vulnerable yearling), that Bb’s presence might also include a gift for me and that it might involve some kind of root healing for my body because Nature thrives on reciprocity. One idea I missed completely, for it was so obvious. Bb’s image was communicating to me that we were having a psychic conversation in that very moment. It was the first time in three months of imaging protective circles that moved with him that I had confirmation from him that we were communicating effectively in this unknown way. This rarely happens. Normally when I do this kind of work, I just do it. I don’t get direct confirmation that it’s working from the animal itself (except with Lily b). Knowing this helped me make another decision I might not have made so intentionally. The hunting season will last into mid December, and I will be traveling during that last month. I keep thinking that putting actual physical distance between Bb and I might pose more of a threat for his life and I have to remind myself that psychic phenomena are not distance dependent. I should be able to image that protective circle every day and feel that it is working. Bb has already shown me that it can but I fear adding distance because I don’t completely trust my own perceptions.* I suspect believing might be an additional dimension of ensuring success when it comes to psychic protection for this bear. But how do I incorporate belief into a picture that is so clouded with personal/cultural doubt? Half the time I don’t believe myself and virtually no one except Rupert Sheldrake, Iren and Harriet have ever taken my experiences seriously. I have to remind myself that I have done this work many times dealing with doubt and it worked anyway. The point of writing this reflection might be to put me on a new edge of increasing Bb’s odds of survival. If it’s possible that an attitude that embraces believing in what I do could help me protect Bb more effectively until hunting is over and its time for him to den in peace I want to claim it. The question I need to answer now is how to go about moving into a more trusting self as a woman who continues to walk with a bear at her side? The night after I wrote the above paragraph I dream of the doubters in the roles of my parents, and in a friend. I take these dreams seriously as doubters inside me and out. These dreams may be telling me that it is unreasonable to expect me to believe that what I do works when no one else does? The problem with this idea is that on some level I do believe. I feel as if I am walking with this bear, every single day. I think about him constantly. The only thing that got me out of the house yesterday was that he was out of chocolate donuts. Something is intensifying my relationship with Bb although I never see him. I am caught in a field of bear energy and information, perhaps through some version of beauty and the beast. That an archetype is …
(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.

(Essay 2) Why Reenact the Nine-Mago Movement? by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

[Author’s Note: The sequel of this essay is released in preparation for 2015 Nine-Day Solstice Celebration Project.] Part 2 Goddess Goma, the Magoist Shaman Ruler, and Her Nona-Mago Tradition Not until the autumn of 2012 did the pervasive manifestation of the number nine symbolism in Magoism surface in my consciousness. The information that the shrine of Gaeyang Halmi (Gaeyang Grandmother/Goddess), the Sea Goddess of Korea, was once called the Temple of Gurang (Nine Goddesses 九嫏祠) awakened a deep memory in me. It was a revelation to me and I began to connect the dots! That summer, I had joined the field research team of Konkuk University’s Korean Oral Literature graduate program. With them I visited the Shrine of the Sea Saint (Suseong-dang 水聖堂) in Buan, North Jeolla, S. Korea to collect folklore from the locals. Only when I was processing the data that the team gathered to write a report, did I come across the original name of the shrine, the Temple of the Nine Goddesses. And the Nine Goddesses refer to Gaeyang Halmi and her eight daughters. It is unknown how and when it was replaced by the current name, the Shrine of the Sea Saint. It is evident, however, that a linguistic femicide took place; the female-connoted term, the Nine Goddesses, was replaced by the sex/gender neutral term, the Sea Saint.
(Bell Essay 8) The Magoist Whale Bell: Decoding the Cetacean Code of Korean Temple Bells by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D.

[Author’s Note: This and ensuing sequels are excerpts of a new development from the original essay sequels on Korean Temple Bells and Magoism that first published January 11, 2013 in this current magazine. See (Bell Essay 1) Ancient Korean Bells and Magoism by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang.] Singing Humpback Whales, wikimedia commons Whales as the Cosmic Music Maker That whales (Gorae in Korean) are foundational to the Korean temple bell remains subliminal to this day. How do we assess the cetacean code of the Korean temple bell? What is the relationship between these two seemingly unrelated objects? We are given the whale-shaped mallet of the bell to begin with. Intriguingly, two Buddhist temples are noted today for the wooden whale-carved mallet of their bells: Sudeok-sa in Yesan, South Chungcheong, and Seonam-sa in Suncheon, South Jeolla.[1] Other temple bells reportedly have the whale mallet as well, although not as much distinctly carved as the two. The Divine Bell of King Seongdeok the Great is known as such. What is the significance of the Korean temple bell that has a whale as its striker? However, the whale-shaped wooden mallet is only a visible symbol of Sillan cetacean veneration. The whale motif is not just physically present in the mallet but also signified in its name or title. Among many alternative names of the Korean temple bell are cetacean names; Janggyeong (長鯨 Eternal Whale), Gyeongjong (鯨鐘 Whale Bell), Hwagyeong (華鯨 Splendid Whale), and Geogyeong (巨鯨 Gigantic Whale). Here the character “gyeong 鯨” means a whale.[2] These whale names suggest that the bell itself is conceived as a whale. Korean temple bells are the code of Magoist cetaceanism. By the very nature of a temple bell that is to awaken all beings to put it bluntly, we can establish that the sound of a whale is elevated to the purpose of a temple bell. Or vice versa. The sound of a temple bell is identified as that of a whale. At the outset, suffice it to say that whales are admired and revered for their vocal behaviors so much so that they are represented in Sillan temple bells. The cetacean representation of the Korean temple bell comes unexpected to us. Why is the song of a whale not the song of a bird or another animal? And what does it mean that the Korean temple bell employs cetacean names? These are no small questions. Answering them requires digging into the deepest layer of what has gone under the surface about Magoist Korean whale culture. I have discussed elsewhere in detail about how Korean cetaceanism is steeped in linguistics, myths, place-names, and custom.[3] For the immensity and complexity of the topic, this essay leaves out the discussion of such salient features of whales as their pre-human origin, evolution from land to sea, sizes and trans-oceanic migratory journeys. Summarily, whales connect and bridge the human mind beyond anthropocentrism. Here we will focus on how cetacean veneration is encoded in the Korean temple bell, in particular the sound tube. Ancient Korean Magoists deemed whales as the cosmic music makers. The cetacean names of Korean temple bells redefine the bell as the acoustic instrument that conveys the music of whales. Note the plural in bells and whales. Korean temple bells are meant to be recognized as a chorus, like whales in the sea, to respond to the sonic property of all beings. In fact, the Korean temple bell is never an isolated single sound wave, to be discussed below. What is emitted from both is harmonized music. It is noted that the music of whales can travel hundreds of kilometers underwater.[4] That the song of whales travel as far as hundreds of kilometers underwater is juxtaposed with the sound of the Korean temple bells that travel far. The former is transmitted through water waves, while the latter is transmitted through air waves. Humpback Whales Whales compose music. Among cetacean species, known for their vocalizations are the blue whale, the fin whale, the humpback whale, the minke whale, and the killer whale.[5] In particular, such baleen whales as humpback whales and blue whales have been relatively well studied for their vocalizing behaviors. The range of humpback whales’ sound frequencies is known as follows: The range of frequencies that whales use are [sic] from 30 Hertz (Hz) to about 8,000 Hz, (8 kHZ). Humans can only hear part of the whales’s songs. We aren’t able to hear the lowest of the whale frequencies. Humans hear low frequency sounds starting at about 100 Hz.[6] In comparisons, the vocalizations of blue whales are known to range from 10 to 40 Hz at a fundamental frequency (the lowest frequency of a periodic waveform). It is also noted that blue whales off the coast of Sri Lanka make music of “four notes duration lasting about two minutes each, reminiscent of the well-known humpback whale songs.”[7] To be discussed below, the frequencies of the two most noted Korean temple bells range from 65 Hz to 103.02 Hz, which fall within the range of these whales’ vocalizations. A significant volume of scientific research has been harvested on the music of humpback whales. Katy and Roger Payne are, according to an article by Bill McQuay and Alison Richards, the first scientists who identified the calls of male humpback whales as songs.[8] They report that humpback whales do not merely sing but compose music. McQuay and Richards describe the song of humpback whales as follows: Surprisingly researchers have noted that at any given moment all males in a group will sing the same version of a song, even when separated over large distances, while whales in another region or hemisphere will sing a completely different song, but in unison with other whales in their area. These sounds are loud, deep and low-frequency (20Hz – 10 kHz). They can be heard many miles away and may go on for hours or even days. Individual songs can last anywhere from a few minutes up to a half hour at which point they may then be repeated again. …
(Photo Essay 4) ‘Gaeyang Halmi, the Sea Goddess of Korea’ by Helen Hwang

Part IV: Revival of the Gurang (Nine Maidens) Gaeyang Halmi There is more to reveal. As I write this part of the photo essay, I have encountered new information, previously made available online by individuals and organizations. It is reported that the “Suseong-dang” (水聖堂, Sea Saint Shrine) was once called the “Gurang-sa” (九娘祠, Nine Maidens Shine), of which I never heard before.[i] That Suseong-dang is a fake name blew my mind! Note the difference of gender between “the Nine Maidens Shrine” and “the Sea Saint Shrine”! The female-connoted term was stolen just like that! “Gurang-sa,” a female-referenced term as the character “rang” means a maiden, had to go due to its overt female representation. It is not without grounds that I was taken aback to see its present logography, “the Sea Saint Shrine,” on the information board.[ii] I almost heard a voice warning me, “This is not the place that you think it is!” That voice attempted to force me to leave the place without further investigation. However, I intuitively took a mental note, “Something is not correct here.” And I was right! Its name change sheds a consistent light on the meddling of patriarchal distortion/deception done to the tradition of Gaeyang Halmi. Readers are reminded of the lost painting of Gaeyang Halmi, which was replaced by that of the Sea God explicated in Part 2 of this photo essay (also Part 3). Like “the Sea God,” “the Suseong-dang” constitutes no reality. It is not only a conceptual deception but also a theft of the intangible cultural heritage, righteously committed by faceless patriarchal men disappeared into the lapse of time. It is clear that systematic erasure of the Female/Goddess has been in operation. Female power embodied whether in the name of the shrine or in the iconography was stripped away. However, it is proven once again that the Female is immortal because it constitutes the root of patriarchy. People smuggled the forbidden knowledge of the Female to later generations through oral stories. Thus, we find the folklore of the Female subversive.