(Essay) Exodus 1980 Revisited by Glenys Livingstone (1994)

This is the second in a three part series of old articles and papers by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D. that were written in the 1980’s and 1990’s, two of which were published at that time. The first in the series was “Notes on Leaving Christianity”, and this second essay is a very personal story of the journey out – some of what was involved for the author. The story is told and set within the context of a ceremonial meal, named as “Passout”, and imagined as a traditional annual restorative event, invoking Goddess whom all present were seeking.

This essay was originally published in Women-Church: An Australian Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion, Issue 15, Spring 1994.

It was “Passout” 1994, the night when women friends gather to celebrate their exodus (when others around them are celebrating Holy Thursday/Passover).The women light candles, anoint each other with oil, and play women’s music that has helped birth them. Sometimes they get up and dance as the Spirit takes them. They share a meal of flatbread, bitter greens, vegetables and roast pork; finishing with a dessert that uses milk and honey. They drink lots of wine throughout the evening, as they tell their exodus stories.

This was one of the women’s stories:

a simple country girl,

who got lost on the big freeways of the world

and thought she was someone else…

hopped in a big american car and went on a tour.

…

when the joyride ended, she came back to the poverty

of her inner landscape… she was dropped off

in the slums of her pain and fear

that she had sought to escape.

“and the stars fell from the sky. There were no guides for this.” Artist: Carol Hiltner http://www.carolhiltner.com

I’m not saying that anyone else should ever do what I did, or that what I did was in any way good. It was just that it was in me to do, and it was my path. It was a drastic measure, I know. I was never a practical person really, not like my mother. It was not in me to spend my days locked in a house with the children. It was not in me to settle down before I had explored a little, to perform the mother rituals as my mother and her mother had done though they longed in their hearts for love and knowledge. They had lusted like Eve, ancient goddess sister, for self-knowledge but unlike her they had accepted the curse of Yahweh, the more modern god with his curse of blind obedience. Not that the mother rituals themselves are empty- no, not at all, it’s just that I was. I was not the person that I am now. Now I would not need to be so drastic I don’t think. But then the lure of the world beyond, was great… the lure of knowledge, ideas and my-self. I lusted to hold my life to the light, to feel its shape, its corners, it’s surfaces, its colour, to begin to cut it like a gem. I needed to touch it, sense it, hold it, and I thought even then, to possibly remember something that my mothers had forgotten. I imagined my grandmother a farmer standing in her fields looking off in the distance, shading her eyes, caught in her existence of constant work but wondering, somehow sensing something else, hoping that one of her descendants, one of her daughter descendants would do it for her. So off I went. Yes I had voices in my head, as they say. I was commissioned by the yearnings of my mothers.

And it was because of the way we raised children. It was not in me to do it that way. I felt so isolated and dependant, plunged into the child’s world, instead of taking the child to mine. I actually didn’t have/know a world, and I felt cut off and cheated of one forever. So I left. I left my sweet children. May the mothers forgive me. I left them with their father. The fathers, I felt, needed to know the children. And he had a world to give them, more than one to choose from it seemed. He replaced me with a commune, a support network, and got on with his career.

Little child, pretty one

how are you

are you happy

…

you know that I love you

– and I miss you

…

I know it is a crime

to not be with you

to see to my-self

…

But if I do not

then you lose too.

…

Do you need me to hold you

– I know that I would like to

…

Your daddy holds you now

and his touch is good.

…

Do you even miss me

Maybe you don’t

…

that would make me happy

– but

at the same time

sad.

I mean, most women would just never do that. Sure, they know the lust I speak of, but they find another way. Perhaps they couldn’t imagine that anyone else could care for their children as well as they; they believed in themselves more, knew themselves better. Perhaps they interpreted this lust within them more narrowly, and felt it could be satisfied with little forays here and there … no need to split the world open. That’s what I did, I split the bloody world open. And it bled, and the stars fell from the sky. There were no guides for this.

Perhaps what the other women did was not so bad, but it didn’t change anything really. Everyone kept moving the right pieces on the game board, so it looked right, but it really wasn’t. It wasn’t in me to do it that way. I didn’t want it to just look right, I really wanted to change the game. And my lust I knew was not just in my groin, though that was not to be belittled, it was all over me.

So I went to find a world to fill me. I did try to fill my void here in Australia, wrote to various universities to see if they could support my quest for research into the ancient Goddess religion. Not really, they all said, you would have to lead the way. Why walk when I could run? I knew it was already boiling in other parts of the world. So I went to Berkeley, California. I had been there before, I knew it had more than enough … of everything.

It really tore my heart out, leaving like that. But I could do things like that to myself those days. Often I have looked back at that deed and wondered at what forces drove me … was it angel or demon. Mostly I have considered it angel despite all the pain, because I thought the gain was so immense. Now I’m not so sure. At this point in my life the gain has been reconsidered, relativized … as I said perhaps it could have been done some other way. Now, as I struggle day to day to feel my-self, re-connect with my heart, my visceral impulses, I wonder at this past deed and how I allowed such immense pain in myself – chose it. Was this quest so important? Was this M.A. (Master of Arts) like no other? Wouldn’t the whole family have come with me? Ahh! the latter question rolls away a big stone on a cavern in my psyche. Wouldn’t the whole family have come with me? Who was I to ask that, that everyone dance to my tune, come all the way to California for Mummy to study? For what? … would it make her more employable? How could she pay for such a venture? Yet surely my absence asked far more of my family. That was a perception that my self- hatred prevented me from seeing. It’s ironic, that my leaving was seen as such a selfish act.

That was her story for the evening, but she added by way of comment …

“Passing out, as we celebrate tonight, is not always a jolly affair; it is fraught with grief too. It is complex, no sister can decide for another what she can leave and what she cannot. It’s like abortion; one may be pro-choice, but the pain of the violence needs to be acknowledged. And leaving is violence … and it’s easier to do when one is young, before life becomes too complex.

There are things that need to be left, we need to vote with our feet. And so we have, and so we are!”

She then held up her glass and proposed a toast:

” To the Crone, the Wise One, who enables us to cut the cords. May her Wisdom also guide our cutting.

To the Virgin, the New Beginning … may She grow virulently in the rich compost. may She protect our tender new skins.

To the Mother who is Sustainer, Creator … may our Creativity be extravagant and exuberant. Anything is possible. May we understand that we can/do right now create the future.”

And the women wiped their tears and drank to it.

Deae Matrones … guide us, protect us, may our creativity be extravagant and exuberant

Read Meet Mago Contributor Glenys Livingstone.

1 thought on “(Essay) Exodus 1980 Revisited by Glenys Livingstone (1994)”

Duann Kier says:

July 11, 2020 at 7:34 AM

How this touched my heart, this being “commissioned by the yearnings of my mothers.” I was commissioned by the yearning of my mothers to choose consciously never to have children. It called for me to give birth to other things in my Mother years. Now as a Hag, I have no doubt at all that it was the right choice for me.

Loading...

Reply

Leave a Reply to the main postCancel reply

(Poem & Photography) Spring on the Wing by Sara Wright

Photo by Sara Wright Red Willow River’s waters are rising. Sea green waves wash whittled beaver sticks against pebble strewn shores. I bend. filling a miniature vessel with river water to hold her song: Water Is Life. Spring is on the wing. Bird migrations, wild winds, leave – taking, these are the elements of seasonal change. Prayers for rain may be answered. Pale green desert rosettes, toothed scorpion rounds, purple filigreed ferns, swelling Cottonwood buds, all create a chorus of rain chants sweetening the night. Blackbirds trill from tallest branches, flash crimson in morning flight. March is the month of the seed moon… I found a soggy bean pod She held three seeds. Three old women called out as I plucked that shriveled husk from the river’s edge. Three swollen capsules – I held them tightly. Would they sprout a bean tree flowing with fragrant flowers, converse with Iris? Persephone? Frog woman? Three faces of the Goddess of Spring. Just in case, I dug them in. I have scattered many seeds… Few have taken root. This is the way of the desert. She withholds spring planting, sometimes for years. And who am I to decide what grows or not? On the first of March my passionflower dropped tender leaves and died. Twice death has taken her this vining heart of mine in exactly the same way to make her point. Nature makes no exceptions for a soul that wonders too far from her roots. Caught up by others’ needs I forgot to tend the garden of the vining heart of me. My dreams grew dark. I suffered from absence – unable to capture my own attention – even through poetry. When plant death intervened suddenly it dawned, the golden eye… Her Light grows ever stronger the moment I turn inward. Forgive this foolish meandering… I must turn back to me. Working Notes This poem was written for, and is dedicated to my friend and scholar Dr. Helen Hye Sook who reminded me that I needed to follow my passions… In Greek mythology Iris was the Goddess of the Rainbow. She represents the daughter aspect of the Goddess manifesting as bridge between Earth and Sky. Persephone is also a daughter who spends half of her life in the Underworld, returning to the Upperworld when the first crocus blooms in spring. Frogs spend the cold months buried in the earth in a state of suspended animation and only emerge to breed after the Earth thaws and the rains come. According to Gimbutas, the goddess has a frog aspect, and frogs have been associated with Rebirth since Neolithic times. All involve transitions, which are rarely easy. I am struck by these faces of three daughter – like goddesses who also act as bridges from one world to another. Each births something new and each is related to water or the underworld.(Meet Mago Contributor) Sara Wright.
(Essay) How to Create a Patriarchal Pagan Group in 12 Steps by Hearth Moon Rising

The bible and the church have been the greatest stumbling block in the way of women’s emancipation. –Elizabeth Cady Stanton “Creating a goddess-centered group is so hard.” “It’s difficult to honor the divine feminine in a group setting.” “How can we get more women in spiritual leadership positions?” Variations on the idea that “What we’re trying to do is really hard” predominate when we talk about the patriarchal climate that develops in spiritual groups which start out with the intention of fully honoring the Great Mother. Sometimes turning the conception of the problem around and looking at it from the opposite side can clarify things. What if creating and maintaining a spiritual group with strong female leadership that nurtures women and men is not difficult, but a natural outgrowth of female participation? How then do males and/or patriarchal values come to dominate groups that see themselves as alternatives to patriarchal religion? In this spirit, I present my “Twelve Easy Really Difficult Steps to Creating a Patriarchal Pagan Group.” My purpose is not to make women feel responsible for male dominance or poor behavior, but to frame the goals of feminist spirituality as natural outcomes that take consistent effort to subvert. 1) Place no prerequisites on male participation. Women are often the majority or the exclusive members in a new experimental enterprise, spiritual or not. As soon as the effort becomes established into something viable, the men show up. While Shulamith Firestone sagely observed that “Sex class is so deep as to be invisible,” it is women – who actually experience sexism from the first day of their lives – who are more likely than men to understand that sexism can be hard to recognize. Women entering a goddess group are more likely than men to have read at least a little feminist theory, and of course they have a lived experience of women’s oppression. Men often believe that their own belief in gender equality is enough. Women, trained from an early age not to be “too demanding,” often operate out of a trust that a “nice guy” who “means well” will automatically be appropriate for group membership. 2) Allow a disproportionate amount of group dialogue and decisions to be guided by men. In mixed group discussions women talk only about a quarter as much as men, and men perceive women as dominating the conversation when they speak more than 30% of the time. [http://jezebel.com/5944642/women-speak-75-less-when-theyre-surrounded-by-dudes-and-thats-bad ] Men are more likely to seek leadership roles than women. Women need to have a secure sense of their abilities before they take on a leadership role; men not so much. [http://www.cios.org/EJCPUBLIC/008/3/008319.HTML] Women’s hesitation to take leadership roles they may not be fully capable of makes sense when you consider the higher amount of criticism woman leaders get from both sexes. Even when women constitute more than half of the group discussion or leadership, having only a handful of men in your organization, with the majority of them in leadership roles or dominating debate, sends a message about the relative value you place on men’s input versus women’s. Sometimes this disproportionate influence of men is seen by women as beneficial, because “We need more men.” Do we? This idea needs to be examined carefully and not taken as axiomatic. The presence of certain types of men may do far more to weaken the feminist principles within your organization than to strengthen the position of women in the world at large. 3) Protect men in the organization from any confrontation by women. At this stage the lioness’ job is to defend the lion from that other lioness, making his potentially hurt feelings the primary consideration. Thus when a woman confronts a man over sexism, she can expect to be attacked by a group of women who don’t agree that it was sexist or think she should have objected in a different manner or know that the gentleman in question is sensitive, gentle, “not a sexist at all,” and therefore her confrontation was out of line. The man who may or may not have said something sexist is thus protected from having to dialogue and work things out with the woman who raised the objection. 4) Operate out of the assumption that we are all trying to balance our “inner feminine” and “inner masculine.” The key word here is assumption. The idea that we have both male and female operating within us is a Jungian concept that keeps stereotypic ideas about women and men intact, while allowing flexibility within the individual. It is a dominant view within mainstream Western culture, and people who adhere to it often (unconsciously) enforce this view in spiritual settings. The problem is that not everyone sees humans or society in terms of “balancing the masculine and feminine.” Radical feminists, especially, do not see the world this way. Thus discussions about feminism and the goddess within spiritual organizations go nowhere because people are talking past one another. 5) Operate out of the assumption that escape from patriarchy can only equal equality. This step flows naturally from the last, and it assumes that we have a clear understanding of what equality looks like – rather problematic after 5000 years of Western patriarchy. Many indigenous cultures place female councils in key decision-making roles, without harming or enslaving men. The feminist concept of matriarchy is not an inverted patriarchy with women despots. Especially in religious organizations, where women almost invariably outnumber men, it makes sense to become comfortable with female authority. It is truly amazing the steps liberal organizations will go to in order to keep power out of “too many” women’s hands. The idea of women in charge seems so much scarier than patriarchy. 6) Stamp out sexism – against men! Once a patriarchal concept of equality is established, the next step is to keep the goddess in her place. She must always be balanced with a god. In some cases a goddess is never invoked without a counterbalancing male deity. Ceremonies must have a female and a male leader. There is widespread complaint about the “invisibility” of male witches …
(Prose) Baba’s Tapestry by Sara Wright

This morning the first email I read was written by a male friend of mine who reminded me that today, International Women’s day, was “my day.” How delightful to be reminded of this moment by a good man, I thought to myself. An article in MAGO about the biological miracle of female mitochondrial DNA captured my attention immediately afterwards. It had been a while since I had thought about the unbroken line of genes passed down from mother to daughter that allowed geneticists to trace woman’s heritage back to the “first mother.” I reflected for a minute on her-story that I share with all women including my own mother and grandmother. In the same piece of writing references were made to scholar Marija Gimbutas’s research which highlights the importance of spinning and weaving, and how these two creative acts were carried out by women in sacred temples long ago (Neolithic Europe). In ancient times flint blades were used as scissors by the women who cut the cords – umbilical and otherwise. These references swamped me with memories driving me to write about them, today, before I lost the precious threads. First, I was flooded by memories of my grandmother who I named “Baba” because she sang a song to me about three lost sheep that cried bah bah bah. The word “Baba,” I later learned, was a name used to denote a grandmother. My maternal grandmother took care of me as a child. She let me bake cookies and help her put up food that she had grown in her vegetable garden. She taught me how to grow flowers, and together we watched birds for hours. She cooked special foods for me when I was sick and washed my face with warm water every single night. She awakened me so that we could watch the deer grazing around the golden apple tree under a blossoming white moon. But what I remember best is sitting with her as she sewed… My grandmother was a professional seamstress who crafted all my grandfather’s suits, shirts, ties, and silk handkerchiefs from materials from bolts of cloth that she chose with great care. I also have many poignant memories of her sitting at the sewing machine stitching together dresses, shorts, shirts, for her only granddaughter who she loved fiercely. She taught me to sew delicate little stitches, and I have a clear memory of her working on a huge tapestry of the Tree of Life that was filled with colorful birds that I loved. That she never finished this particular piece of embroidery always upset me whenever I thought about it. At the time of her death my grandmother had embroidered so many pillow shams and wall hangings that were so exquisitely executed that I was left to wonder about the significance behind the fact that she abandoned my favorite tapestry of all. I still have the silver heron scissors that she used to cut the threads of that embroidery… Today of all days seems like an appropriate time to honor my very creative grandmother who nurtured me as a child, adolescent, and young woman. When I lost her not long after my brother’s death I lost the only adult I had ever come near to trusting… According to the same article women’s aprons had pockets that often held precious family heirlooms like rings and necklaces, as well as scissors that were passed down from mother to daughter (or as in my case from grandmother to granddaughter). (I stopped writing at this point to get a cup of coffee and to water my plants. I was stunned to discover a small pair of (child’s) scissors in the center of one of my passionflower pots that had been hidden under the leafy vine. Sometimes synchronistic experiences like this reinforce the powers of interconnection like nothing else can.) My grandmother also wore aprons that always had pockets in them. My mother was an artist that worked in a number of mediums. At one point she was silk screening pictures that my brother and I had drawn onto linen napkins. My brother drew a bird’s nest with three eggs in it. The picture that my mother selected for me was a self-portrait of a small child who wore an apron with a single pocket in the left hand side. I was also wearing one of my grandfather’s berets. Oddly I had drawn myself with only one arm. As an adult, I wondered about why my mother had chosen this particular picture for her napkins because it seemed to indicate that her daughter saw herself in a distorted way. The embroidered Tree of Life tapestry that my grandmother never finished and the picture of myself with one arm leads me to believe that something was broken in my grandmother and in me on an archetypal level (tree of life) and the personal (a child with one arm). But I think that the intergenerational woman thread endured and eventually triumphed because the child had a pocket and inside that pocket was a woman who developed into a creative writer, one who continues today to re-weave the threads of her broken woman line. [Author’s note: This beautiful Huichol Indian Tree of Life belongs to a friend of mine. It is one of the finest string paintings that I have ever seen.The Huichol live in the Sierra Madre mountains of Mexico and only mix with outsiders to sell their string paintings and beaded art.] Meet Mago Contributor Sara Wright.
RTM Newsletter July 2017 #10

Dear all RTM community, We are anticipating the 5th anniversary on August 15, 2017! Return to Mago E-Magazine continues to be the hub of gift-sharers for the coming year! Many thanks to our contributors and readers as well as editors! Also many thanks to The Girl God and PaGaian Cosmology, which have helped spread of our posts in their social media websites. Highlights: (Special Post) Discussion on Mother-Daughter Wound by Mago Circle Members
(Essay) The Mago Hedge School: Why Remember Mary Daly? by Helen Hye Sook Hwang

Prologue By writing this, I do not intend to defend Mary Daly’s position in any dispute. A controversial figure, Mary Daly never let go of her fight with those whom she thought on the other side of her feminist war. Like anyone else in history, Mary Daly belonged to her time and culture, and I leave her unresolved issues up to her. What I write here is my fond memory of her, whose feminist thought left an indelible mark on my being as well as humanity as a whole. Daly’s contribution remains to be reassessed from the fresh eye of new generations. In the meantime, I begin to speak for my part. Without Mary Daly’s thought, I would not have been in this place where I stand right now. It has empowered me to actualize my dreams to the fullest as a wo/man who was born and raised in Korea but had come from the One Home in origin. I first hear of the hedge school “Have you heard of the hedge school, Hye Sook?” asked Mary. “No, I haven’t heard of it,” I answered. This conversation took place during the conference called the Feminist Hullaballoo held in Santa Fe, New Mexico in 2007. We met there and spent three days as chums. Mary was with another friend, Yvonne Johnson, so the three of us hung out together. It was a very special time for me – I felt as if I were wrapped up in the eye of the storm. (In fact, my life feels so.) At the conference, someone asked me how I came to be invited as a featured speaker. I was among such renowned feminist speakers as Sonia Johnson, Paula Gunn Allen, and Mary Daly herself. They felt like giants to me. I told her that Mary Daly invited me. Mary had asked me if I would like to go and speak at that conference. I did not have an inflated ego. I would not have been hurt if I were not chosen. But I said “Yes” without hesitation. At the time, it felt like another one of the many “outlandish” adventures that I had undertaken throughout my life. In retrospect, however, this was a very special “Yes” to the beginning of my life’s new phase. It was my debut as a radical feminist, so to speak – the first time I spoke to such a large number of radical feminists. Mary sat in the front row and listened to my talk. She nodded her head saying “It was great,” when I finished and came down to sit next to her. Mary was just getting to know my research on Mago in that year; that was what she was referring to. Nonetheless, what mattered to me was not how well I presented my research, but that I managed to do it! The jitters were over! I was returning Home and had just been baptized in public as a Wo/man, the whole being. [This talk was later published in Trivia: Voices of Feminism.] My two dreams When I accepted Mary’s invitation, I was thinking of my two dreams. I am a dream-listener. Or to be more accurate, my dreams have led me through. These dreams with regard to Mary Daly are in fact old; I dreamt them before my arrival in Claremont, California, in 1997. In the first dream, I was in the crowd when Mary spoke to a large audience. The venue was an open plaza and the stage was far away from where I was standing. Then, out of the blue, Mary called my name and asked me to come up to the podium. It sounded like a call to my soul. So I did. Then, she passed the microphone to me. I blacked out, not knowing what to say, and woke up. This dream told me what I lacked, a message to deliver to the world, which I did not have for some years. The second dream was a brief but sweet one. Mary and I were standing in an old-style classroom as co-teachers. The dynamic between us was intimate and enjoyable. Honored and proud, I felt in the presence of my old friends. The classroom was a dream-like space within a dream, as if we were in a time machine! More than two decades have passed since I had those dreams, and now I see that they were indeed self-fulfilling dreams. The first dream was fulfilled through the event of my speech to the Feminist Hullaballoo conference. By then, it was clear that I was going to speak about the topic of Mago, which I had encountered for my Ph.D. dissertation. It was the topic that I had searched for without knowing and I found it. Now I see that it found me! It is the tradition of my ancestors that has beckoned me to come Home. In Mago, I found an anciently originated gynocnetric reality, which encompasses everyone regardless and named it Magoism. Mary and I meet in person The first time I met her in person was in early April of 1999, in Claremont, California. I had been in contact with Mary Daly for about four years before then. We had spoken over the telephone, faxed, and snail-mailed across the Pacific Ocean while I was living in Korea from 1994 to 1997. Mary was invited to speak by the committee of Claremont Colleges programs including the Women’s Studies in Religion Program at Claremont Graduate University, the program I was studying in. In fact, that was the program that Mary had suggested I apply for, and she had written a recommendation letter on my behalf. My first meeting with her is imprinted on my soul, and it feels as fresh as ever. It was an unusually cold spring day in Claremont. It even sprinkled some rain. She was staying at the Claremont Inn, only a couple of blocks away from my dormitory apartment. She had phoned me the day before her arrival. She called me …
(Book Excerpt 5) Single Mothers Speak on Patriarchy by Trista Hendren & Pat Daly

Becoming My Own Midwife Celeste Gurevich I learned to survive by quilting myself with breath, blood, bones, and stories. Panel by panel, saturated remnants of all of the Celestes I have ever been. The stitches laden with the scent of early Spring daphnes, garden-fresh basil a licorice-y labor of loving hands. The eternal tang of salty Pacific Ocean air. In the warp and weft of fiber, my scars, each with its own tale to tell.
(Fiction) Reflections on Sulis by Claire Dorey

Art by Claire Dorey [Author’s Note: Extract from a work in progress. Thoughts on Goddess Sulis as seen through the eyes of an ancient Briton during the Roman occupation.] “There’s a Goddess in the waterways!” “Who are they and why are they lost?” You ask. It’s ironic that most information about the British water Goddess comes from the Romans, the extreme patriarchal regime that conquered us. She was so sacred they assimilated Her into their own mythology. Most of our water Goddesses are local, one for every spring, river, lake and estuary! Local doesn’t mean She isn’t important and although She is buried beneath years of mud and history it doesn’t mean She won’t rise again. Covertina, Nemetona, Verbeia, Belisama, Latis, Saitada, Domnu, Senua, Brigantia, Brighida, Agrona, Hafren, Gye, Ystwythis, Ancasta, Annwn, Epona, Rosemerta and Sulis have survived damnatio memoriae’! Why is British mythology so scant? Were oral histories lost, forgotten, overlaid with new mythologies, or deliberately destroyed? There is no doubt that organised religion actively pursued ‘damnatio memoriae’ – ‘condemnation of memory’ – what you call gaslighting! Fast forward to the 6th century. “Let altars be built and relics be placed there so that [the pagans] have to change from the worship of the daemones to that of the true God.” – Pope Gregory I, approx. 590AD. At the springs our pagan deities were usurped by saints or the silenced embodiment of the Goddess, the Virgin Mary. The water Goddess became a vague shadow, her blood roots haunting legend as the Scarlet Lady or the Lady of the Lake. Perhaps She now inhabits poetry, a depression in the Earth, the contour of a hill or a chalybeate spring, flowing carnelian. Since patriarchy exterminated Her history, I think it’s fair we speculate; patch together fragments of information; dig into the what ifs and whataboutery and draw comparisons with the mythos of ancient and indigenous cultures to recreate our stolen inheritance. Meditation, shamanic journeying, psychic messaging and evoking the Goddess to see who rises may be key to unlocking lost knowledge! Let’s tap into our creative wisdom and intuition to generate avatars of the Lost Goddess relatable for ‘now’, after all She was always a continuously evolving phenomena, Her form imagined and reimagined by artists, craftsmen, storytellers and scribes throughout history. Perhaps the best known British water Goddess is the beautiful, symmetrical, decapitated Sulis Minerva. Her ubiquitous, high status, bronze gilt face gazed across the sacred waters at Aquae Sulis, now called Bath in Somerset. Since it was the Roman war machine and their wives who languished in ‘sanitas per aquam’ it’s hardly surprising they created a hybrid of Sulis, our Celtic solar and Mother Goddess, with Minerva, Roman Goddess of war, wisdom, trade and creativity. In Old Irish ‘súil’ means ‘eye sight’ so Sulis may mean ‘to see’. Or perhaps her name comes from an Indo-European word for ‘Sun’. Either way I believe Sulis is a seer, a divinatory Goddess and a luminary, with priestesses channeling her prophetic visions like the Pythia. I refer to Sulis Minerva’s face as ‘ubiquitous’ because it is a clone of the face the ancient Greek sculptor Praxiteles created for Aphrodite of Knidos, in the 4th Century BC. Praxiteles also created the ‘shame pose’ where, mortified to be naked, the Goddess covers her ‘pudenda’ with her hand. This pose has haunted women for millennia because it projects shame onto our bodies whilst telling us to be modest, cementing these qualities in stone! I doubt that the body of any Goddess could ever be a source of shame but this does show how artists and writers, especially those working within a patriarchal framework, conditioned women, showing us ‘desirable’ versions of ourselves which became enduring and limiting stereotypes and standards for us to live by. Sulis Minerva’s face is one of those stylised faces that have been recreated by artists throughout the ages, in Classical, Renaissance Revival and Romantic art, but what did Sulis, stripped of Minerva’s armour, actually look like? Wind back time. Before the Romans developed Aquae Sulis into a bustling spa, my mother says there were three torrid springs, gushing into a series of stepped, open air, geothermal pools, beside the river Afon (Avon). She says when she was my age (in AD 40) her family trekked to the luxuriously warm springs where the water is chartreuse and the minerals heal the skin. They sat on boulders amongst the pilgrims and lepers and watched as the lily masked priestesses, stood waist high in the steaming pool channeling Sulis. With fingertips trailing in the glassy water these crepe-skinned, dowager Oracles were naked, free of shame, in trance, peaceful, wise – resolved! Amongst the boulders were rock carvings of Sulis as the triple Goddess, so perhaps there was one of Her for each fountainhead. When my mother slipped into the water she said she had a clear vision of Sulis as a divine aquatic creature, shyly lurking in the watery reservoirs of wisdom held in aquifers deep underground. When it is quiet she basks on the rocks in the sunshine, like lizards do! The Romans guarded Sulis Minerva with the head of a serpent haired gorgon who, with the flash of an eye, turned the irreverent to stone. It’s ironic that all that remains of Her is Her beautiful gilt head. Was she decapitated, as was the gorgon Medusa, to reduce her power, her precious bronze body stolen and cast into the furnace when Aquae Sulis crumbled? Art by Claire Dorey Patriarchy tamed the Goddess using rape and murder. They bottled Her wild spirit, summoning Her power when required, like a genie in a lamp. They clipped Her wings because She was capable of acts of fierce destruction and retribution just like Mother Nature. As man conquered nature, colonised land, drew borders and profited from the Earth they set the Goddess to work for them. When did this start? Oracles were guarded by amphibians and I’ve always thought the murder of the female sea monsters, including the Hydra, …
(Photo Essay 4) Goddess Pilgrimage – Sicily by Kaalii Cargill

I was lured to Sicily by my southern Italian heritage and photos of the Valley of the Temples, an archaeological site on the southern coast outside the town of Agrigento. What I found was an ancient landscape alive with myth and magic. For a thousand years, Sicily was the centre of Magna Graecia, the colonial settlements west of Greece. Gods, Goddesses, and nymphs still inhabit almost every hill, lake and spring. I flew from Malta to Catania to search for traces of Proserpina and Ceres (Greek: Persephone and Demeter). Proserpina is the Goddess of Sicily – her name comes from the word ‘proserpere’ – to emerge. Ask a Sicilian about Proserpina, and you will hear the tale of her abduction by Pluto on the banks of Lake Pergusa, close to the mountain town of Enna in the centre of Sicily.
(Prose & Art) The Magnificent – The Last Great Whale, The Mother of All by Noris Binet

Art by Nois Binet One shining morning I was standing on a deck looking at the waters of the Pacific. I don’t recall how I got there but because the ocean holds the purity of all forms for me and a sense of wonder, its vastness always takes me in as if I am a newborn, full of amazement. There is no particular time for me to be at the ocean; any time is a great time. When I cannot be there for a long while, it’s as if I am being deprived of life’s sustaining energy. At the ocean I feel that I am before the beginning of all of life’s creation. On this auspicious Sunday I was alone but aware of people moving about in a holiday spirit on the wharf, browsing the restaurants and shops nearby. Suddenly right in front of me a couple of medium-sized whales appeared jumping and playing. I was delighted just to watch them as they moved freely, frolicking in the waters with so much ease. I was only fifteen to twenty feet from the young mammals and the deck was only a few feet higher than the water. When they slipped back below its surface I stood mesmerized by their beauty, their sleek skin and the magnificence of their sheer size. How lucky I thought, to be able to witness them that closely, almost in reach of my hand! I felt so privileged at that moment realizing that I was part of… And before I could finish the thought I was impacted by the force of a huge, archaic marine creature, which emerged from the ocean with such might that the water spilled out from her jump, wetting my face and clothes. I was in awe, shaken, and thrilled to be in the presence of such an amazing being, before whom I could neither move or do a thing and thus became absolutely still at such greatness and wild presence. The wetness covering my face felt glorious as if it was a baptism of some kind and now I realize that it was just that! This magnificent creature from the mysterious depth had baptized me. Her mammoth proportions overwhelmed my senses to such a degree that I knew that I could never be the same after this startling encounter. It is impossible to meet “the magnificent” without being transformed. What is this? Who is this? All my questions fell away as my eyes were transfixed upon her, being totally hypnotized by this grandiose energy that felt so primal and ancient as the original mother of all life. I was fully present and entered into a timeless-time without beginning or end realizing that that moment is still here with me now. I wanted to capture her in form; and be able to see her image over and over. This fascination overtook me so that I couldn’t but take a pencil and begin to sketch her from memory. Despite my immediate self-doubt about replicating her form, the magnificent creature emerged from the paper without struggle exactly as she appeared to me, spontaneous and free. Drawing her allowed me to be with her and to see the details that were imprinted on the depth of my psyche, without me even knowing it. Amazing revelations have begun to happen as her primordial energy continued to take form, communicating slowly why she came to see me. I am unable to unveil the details of her communication because it is a process that is unfolding intra-psychically and thus can’t be named or conceptualized. It can only be felt. And that, I can share: It feels like a resurrection; as if deeper forces that were dormant have begun to resurface to lead me through a world of symbols, the meaning of which can only be revealed when they are experienced, not before. It is moving in the unknown only following inner impulses, before the defining thoughts of what is happening have emerged in the mind. As I began to research whether anyone had seen this being before, or whether there are tales about her, I found that no one had seen her exactly as did I. Yet cultures all over the world consider whales as the “earth’s record keeper for all time, inspiring us to listen to the inner voice”. “The whale’s being is associated with the wisdom and awareness of the spiritual realm, blending the conscious and the unconscious into an undivided whole.” Throughout my life I have felt compelled to dwell in the depth of the psyche. I have come to realize that as I navigate in the emotional depth of the unconscious world that I can swim with “the magnificent” without being totally overwhelmed by her power. Instead, I am guided by her beauty and serenity. When I am able to allow her energy to express itself in me I can move without resistance in the fluidity of this life. I can come out to breathe and the experience of the breath can be a moment of illumination. As the record keeper “the great Whale” came to me knowing what is necessary for my maturation to unfold and to guide my entry across the threshold of my own transmigration. Her energy brought about my realignment with the full expression of creativity and spiritual awakening as the ultimate purpose of this life. She was the last archaic, gigantic whale wandering, looking for me in the great vastness of the ocean and now we are together. Now, she has come home. She lives deeply within myself and within yourselves, ready to be activated, embracing us as The Magnificent, the great Mother of all. © 3/23/15. Sonoma, CA (Meet Mago Contributor) Noris Binet.

(Special Post) Why I choose to be an RTM contributor by Glenys Livingstone

The contribution of my writing to Return to Mago E-Magazine has evolved since it began four years ago, into a deeply mutually enhancing relationship. The time and effort taken to write carefully and in alignment with my heartfelt passions and insights, and then to be able to publish to a receptive audience, has always been rewarding – for me personally and apparently for many who received it.
(Special Post 7) Why Goddess Feminism, Activism, and Spirituality?

[Editor’s Note: This was first proposed in The Mago Circle, Facebook Group, on March 6, 2014. We have our voices together below and publish them in sequels. Special thanks to Trista Hendren, founder and author of The Girl God, who passionately and painstakingly promotes the message of each contributor via Facebook’s memes. Without Trista’s devotion to the advocacy, this collective effort would not have continued. It is an ongoing project and we encourage our reader to join us! Submit yours today to Helen Hwang (magoism@gmail.com). Or visit and contact someone in Return to Mago’s Partner Organizations.] Kaalii Cargill: Life emerges from the Feminine: Woman, Nature, Goddess. When we value the life-giving power of the Feminine we are less likely to kill other human beings who have been held in a mother’s arms.
(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.

(Mago Almanac Excerpt 7) Introducing the Magoist Calendar by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

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

The Spring Equinox Moment occurs September 21-23 Southern Hemisphere, March 21-23 Northern Hemisphere. The full story of Spring Equinox is expressed in the full flower connected to the seed fresh from the earth; that is, it is a story of emergence from the dark, from a journey, perhaps long, perhaps short, through challenging places. The joy of the blossoming is rooted in the journey through the dark, and an acknowledgement of the dark’s fertile gift, as well as of great achievement in having made it, of having returned. Both Equinoxes, Spring and Autumn, celebrate this sacred balance of grief and joy, light and dark, and they are both celebrations of the mystery of the seed. The seed is essentially the deep Creativity within – that manifests in the Spring as flower, or green emerged One. the full story: the root and the flower As the new young light continues to grow at this time of Spring, it comes into balance with the dark at Spring Equinox, or ‘Eostar’ as it may be named; about to tip further into light when light will dominate the day. The trend at this Equinox is toward increasing hours of light: and thus it is about the power of being – life is stepping into it. Earth in this region is tilting further toward the Sun. Traditionally it may be storied as the joyful celebration of a Lost Beloved One, who may be represented by the Persephone story: She is a shamanic figure who is known for Her journey to the Underworld, and who at this time of Spring Equinox returns. Her Mother Demeter who has waited and longed for Her in deep grief, rejoices and so do all: warmth and growth return to the land. Persephone, the Beloved Daughter, the Seed, has navigated the darkness successfully, has enriched it with Her presence and also gained its riches. Eostar/Spring Equinox is the magic of the unexpected, yet long awaited, green emergence from under the ground, and then the flower: this emergence is especially profound as it is from a seed that has lain dormant for months or longer – much like the magic of desert blooms after long periods of drought. The name of “Eostar” comes from the Saxon Goddess Eostre/Ostara, the northern form of the Sumerian Astarte[i]. The Christian festival in the Spring, was named “Easter” as of the Middle Ages, appropriating Goddess/Earth tradition. The date of Easter, which is set for Northern Hemispheric seasons, is still based on the lunar/menstrual calendar; that is, the 1st Sunday after the first full Moon after Spring Equinox. In Australia where I am, “Easter” is celebrated in Autumn (!) by mainstream culture, so we have the spectacle of fluffy chickens, chocolate eggs and rabbits in the shops at that time. There are other names for “Eostar” in other places …the Welsh name for the Spring Equinox celebration is Eilir, meaning ‘regeneration’ or ‘spring’ – or ‘earth’[ii]. In my own PaGaian tradition, the Spring Equinox celebration is based on the Demeter and Persephone story, the version that is understand as pre-patriarchal, from Old Europe. In the oldest stories, Persephone has agency in Her descent: She descends to the underworld voluntarily as a courageous seeker of wisdom, and a compassionate receiver of the dead. She represents, and IS, the Seed of Life that never fades away. Spring Equinox is a celebration of Her return, Life’s continual return, and thus also our personal and collective emergences/returns.We may contemplate the collective emergence/returns especially in our times. I describe Persephone as a “hera”, which of old was a term for any courageous One. “Hera” was a pre-Hellenic name for the Goddess in general[iii]. “Hera” was the indigenous Queen Goddess of pre-Olympic Greece, before She was married off to Zeus. “Hero” was a term for the brave male Heracles who carried out tasks for his Goddess Hera: “The derivative form ‘heroine’ is therefore completely unnecessary”[iv]. “Hera” may be used as a term for any courageous individual: and participants in PaGaian Spring Equinox ceremony have named themselves this way. The pre-“Olympic” games of Greece were Hera’s games, held at Her Heraion/temple[v]. The winners were “heras” – gaining the status of being like Her[vi]. At the time of Spring Equinox, we may celebrate the Persephone, the Hera, the Courageous One, who steps with new wisdom, into power of being: the organic power that all beings must have, Gaian power, the power of the Cosmos. This Seasonal ceremony may be a rejoicing in how we have made it through great challenges and loss, faced our fears and our demise (in its various forms), had ‘close shaves’ – perhaps physically as well as psychicly and emotionally. It is a time to welcome back that which was lost, and step into the strength of being. Spring Equinox/Eostar is the time for enjoying the fruits of the descent, of the journey taken into the darkness: return is now certain, not tentative as it was in the Early Spring/Imbolc. Demeter, the Mother, receives the Persephones, Lost Beloved Ones, joyously. This may be understood as an individual experience, but also as a collective experience – as we emerge into a new Era as a species. Thomas Berry and Brian Swimme speak of the ending of the sixty-five million year geological Era – the Cenozoic Era – in our times, and our possible emergence into an Ecozoic Era. They describe the Ecozoic Era as a time when “the curvature of the universe, the curvature of the earth, and the curvature of the human are once more in their proper relation”[vii]. Joanna Macy speaks of the “Great Turning” of our times[viii]. Collectively we have been away from the Mother for some time and there is a lot of pain. At this time we may contemplate not only our own individual lost wanderings, but also that of the human species. We are part of a much bigger Return that is happening. The Beloved One may be understood as returning on a collective level: …
Samhain/Deep Autumn within the Creative Cosmos by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an edited excerpt from Chapter 4 of the author’s new book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. Traditionally the dates for Samhain/Deep Autumn are: Northern Hemisphere – October 31st/November 1st Southern Hemisphere – April 30th/May 1st though the actual astronomical date varies. It is the meridian point or cross-quarter day between Autumn Equinox and Winter Solstice, thus actually a little later in early May for S.H., and early November for N.H., respectively. A Samhain/Deep Autumn Ceremonial Altar In this cosmology, Deep Autumn/Samhain is a celebration of She Who creates the Space to Be par excellence. This aspect of the Creative Triplicity is associated with the autopoietic quality of Cosmogenesis[i] and with the Crone/Old One of the Triple Goddess, who is essentially creative in Her process. This Seasonal Moment celebrates the process of the Crone, the Ancient One … how we are formed by Her process, and in that sense conceived by Her: it is an ‘imaginal fertility,’ a fertility of the dark space, the sentient Cosmos. It mirrors the fertility and conception of Beltaine (which is happening in the opposite Hemisphere at the same time). Some Samhain/Deep Autumn Story This celebration of Deep Autumn has been known in Christian times as “Halloween,” since the church in the Northern Hemisphere adopted it as “All Hallow’s eve” (31st October) or “All Saint’s Day” (1st November). This “Deep Autumn” festival as it may be named in our times, was known in old Celtic times as Samhain (pronounced “sow-een), which is an Irish Gaelic word, with a likely meaning of “Summer’s end,” since it is the time of the ending of the Spring-Summer growth. Many leaves of last Summer are turning and falling at this time: it was thus felt as the end of the year, and hence the New Year. It was and is noted as the beginning of Winter. It was the traditional Season for bringing in the animals from the outdoor pastures in pastoral economies, and when many of them were slaughtered. Earth’s tilt is continuing to move the region away from the Sun at this time of year. This Seasonal Moment is the meridian point of the darkest quarter of the year, between Autumn Equinox and Winter Solstice; the dark part of the day is longer than the light part of the day and is still on the increase. It is thus the dark space of the annual cycle wherein conception and dreaming up the new may occur. As with any New Year, between the old and the new, in that moment, all is possible. We may choose in that moment what to pass to the future, and what to relegate to compost. Samhain may be understood as the Space between the breaths. It is a generative Space – the Source of all. There is particular magic in being with this Dark Space. This Dark Space which is ever present, may be named as the “All-Nourishing Abyss,”[ii] the “Ever-Present Origin.”[iii] It is a generative Place, and we may feel it particularly at this time of year, and call it to consciousness in ceremony. Some Samhain/Deep Autumn Motifs The fermentation of all that has passed begins. This moment may mark the Transformation of Death – the breakdown of old forms, the ferment and rot of the compost, and thus the possibility of renewal.[iv] It is actually a movement towards form and ‘re-solution’ (as Beltaine – its opposite – begins a movement towards entropy and dissolution). With practice we begin to develop this vision: of the rot, the ferment, being a movement towards the renewal, to see the gold. And just so, does one begin to know the movement at Beltaine, towards expansion and thus falling apart, dissolution. In Triple Goddess poetics it may be expressed that the Crone’s face here at Samhain begins to change to the Mother – as at Beltaine the Virgin’s face begins to change to the Mother: the aspects are never alone and kaleidoscope into the other … it is an alive dynamic process, never static. The whole Wheel is a Creation story, and Samhain is the place of the conceiving of this Creativity, and it may be in the Spelling of it – saying what we will; and thus, beginning the Journey through the Wheel. Conception could be described as a “female-referring transformatory power” – a term used by Melissa Raphael in Thealogy and Embodiment:[v] conception happens in a female body, yet it is a multivalent cosmic dynamic, that is, it happens in all being in a variety of forms. It is not bound to the female body, yet it occurs there in a particular and obvious way. Androcentric ideologies, philosophies and theologies have devalued the event and occurrence of conception in the female body: whereas PaGaian Cosmology is a conscious affirmation, invocation and celebration of “female sacrality”[vi] as part of all sacrality. It does thus affirm the female as a place; as well as a place.[vii] ‘Conception’ is identified as a Cosmic Dynamic essential to all being – not exclusive to the female, yet it is a female-based metaphor, one that patriarchal-based religions have either co-opted and attributed to a father-god (Zeus, Yahweh, Chenrezig – have all taken on being the ‘mother’), or it has been left out of the equation altogether. Womb is the place of Creation – not some God’s index finger as is imagined in Michelangelo’s famous painting. Melissa Raphael speaks of a “menstrual cosmology”. It is an “ancient cosmology in which chaos and harmony belong together in a creation where perfection is both impossible and meaningless;”[viii] yet it is recently affirmed in Western scientific understanding of chaos, as essential to order and spontaneous emergence. Samhain is an opportunity for immersion in a deeper reality which the usual cultural trance denies. It may celebrate immersion in what is usually ‘background’ – the real world beyond and within time and space: which is actually the major portion of the Cosmos we live in.[ix] Samhain is about understanding that the Dark is a fertile place: in its decay and rot it seethes with infinite unseen complex golden threads connected to the wealth of Creativity of all that has gone before – like any …
(Poetry & Photo Essay) Pongal by Susan Hawthorne

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

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IVRoK2XNeqw The purpose of the video is for ceremony and I suggest pausing the video where it suits you, to add your own processing, embellishments and/or your own drum, percussion and voice wherever you please. I have made short spaces in the video where it could be paused. For more full participation in the ceremony, you could have some past photos of yourself, an altar with ancestor photos, a gingerbread snake, some apples sliced up, and some apple juice. The script for this Samhain ceremony is offered in Chapter 4 of my book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony, with all acknowledgements and references there. However I want to acknowledge here the inspiration and some text of Robin Morgan’s poem “The Network of the Imaginary Mother” in her book Lady of the Beasts, for which I was given permission in my book. I also acknowledge here the paraphrase of some words by Starhawk in her book The Spiral Dance, used in the rite of Sailing to a New World. I also use a line from the poem Song of Hecate by Bridget McKern. The elements of Water, Fire, Earth and Air on the altar in this video are placed in directions that are appropriate to my region in the Southern Hemisphere, and East Coast Australia: you may place yours differently, and transliterate when I mention the direction (which I do minimally). For the rite of the Transformation Journey (remembering old selves) I use an adaptation of a children’s game “In and Out the Windows”, where each participant travels in and out of upraised and linked arms of the circle, and when ‘in’ may speak and /or show photos of themselves from the past. Some may choose to remember any self from the entire evolutionary story, with whom they would like to identify. The game seems appropriate to what each being does existentially in so many ways, over the eons as well as in our personal lives. The chant can be found on YouTube. The photos used are a collage of footage and photos from the 2024 Samhain ceremony at my place in Wakka Wakka country, South East Queensland Australia, and from previous Samhain ceremonies I facilitated over the decades in MoonCourt, Goddess ceremonial space in NSW Australia, Darug and Gundungurra country. Music credit: All music used in this video is by Tim Wheater, which has previously generously allowed me to use in my work. The pieces used are from Tim’s CD Fish Nite Moon: they are Ancient Footsteps, Fish Nite Moon, Spiritbirth, and Conception. I thank my partner Robert (Taffy) Seaborne for his participation in the creation of the video.

(Essay 1) How Did I Fall In Love with Korean Historical Drama? by Anna Tzanova, M.A.

Go to online class, Korean Historical Dramas. “To become a kairomancer¹, you need to learn to trust your feelings as you walk the roads of this world, to develop your personal science of shivers, to recognize in your gut and your skin and in free-floating impressions that you know far more than you hold on the surface of consciousness. You need to take care of your poetic health, reading what rhymes in a day or a season. You want to expect the unexpected, to make friends with surprises, and never miss that special moment.” ~ Robert Moss² After a year and a half of work without a day off; driving 100-150 miles every other day; writing past midnight every night; at the end of July 2011, overwhelmed by fatigue, I finally decided to take a weekend off. Little did I know, that time off would last over seven months, during which I would not only change my job, but also acquire a new passion.
(Mago Essay 3) Toward the Primordial Knowing of Mago, the Great Goddess by Helen Hwang

[The following sequels including this one are a modified version of my paper presented to Daoist Studies, the American Academy of Religion (AAR) in 2010.] Part 3 Daoist Rendition of Mago, the Great Goddess Being the creatrix, progenitor, and ultimate sovereign, Mago has been addressed by many names. Her derivative names include Samsin Halmeoni (Triad Grandmother/Goddess), Cheonsin (Heavenly Deity), Daejosin (Great Ancestor Deity), Nogo (Crone/Grandmother), Gomo (Goddess Mother), Magui (Devil), Seogo (Auspicious Goddess), Seonnyeo (Female Immortal), Seonja (Immortal Person), and simply Halmi (Grandmother/Crone/Goddess) especially in Korea. To say the least, these names, respectively embedded in a particular cultural and historical background, reflect a complex and enduring feature of Magoism. One may wonder: How is it possible to assess that these goddesses with different names refer to the same goddess, Mago? While such a query is legitimate, its answer entails a prolix explication of inferences based on the comprehensive analysis of a large volume of data, a technique that requires all human faculties, not just rationality. Foremost, the name “Mago” is the primary defining factor to identify Her transnational manifestations in East Asia. This name crisscrosses otherwise seemingly unrelated data including folklore, arts, literature, poetry, and religious and historical records. Such toponyms as Mt. Mago, Rock of Mago, and Cave of Mago presently extant in Korea, China, and/or Japan further substantiate the coherence of Magoism in East Asia. Having established the patterns and styles of Mago stories, the researcher is able to identify a common motif that is shared by the stories and place-names of the goddesses with derivative names. In short, these stories are organically interconnected, reflecting the universality and particularities of Magoist theism. As with Her many names, the researcher or art historian requires the same technique to assess a broad range of Her visual representations. One can begin with a good number of paintings whose colophons designate Mago. Two of the most conspicuous colophons are “Magu gathering medicinal herbs” and “Mago presents longevity.” However, many icons including sculptures and embroideries do not have such an indication. In that case, one can tell the Mago icon by its pictorial themes recurring in the images that are identified as Mago. That said, there is no doubt that the Mago icon stands as the prototype of its numerous variations, which are beyond my documentation at this point. A large portion of Mago visual representations I have documented is casually referred to as “The Immortal Magu (麻姑仙, Magu Xian or Mago Seon)” by moderns. As such, it is assumed that She is a Daoist goddess. Would the Daoist appropriation of Mago’s visual images be accurate? I hold that the Daoist rendition of Mago is a specious stopgap, leaving many issues unattended. When B is derived from A, B alone can explain neither A nor B. Not only Her pre-Daoist origin but also Her supreme divinity as the Great Goddess remains unexplained. Furthermore, Daoism has offered no framework to explain the transnational dissemination of Magoist material culture in Korea, China, and Japan.
(Budoji Essay 2) The Magoist Cosmogony by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

“Mago, the eponymous Goddess, is the head, ruler, and guardian of Mago-seong. She represents the eco-community of the Earth in the intergalactic universe.” [Author’s Note: This and subsequent essays are part of the forthcoming book tentatively entitled, The Magoist Cosmogony from the Budoji (Epic of the Emblem City), Translation and Interpretation, Volume 1, that I am currently writing. I am indebted to Harriet Ann Ellenberger, who has given me her prompt feedback and editorial advice in a most supportive manner. I am thankful to Dr. Glenys Livingstone, who has inspired me to write this book sooner than later. I am also grateful for Rosemary Mattingley, who has provided copy-editing of my essays in Return to Mago Webzine.] Chapter One (Translation) Mago-seong was the grand castle located in the highest place on earth. Revering the Heavenly Emblem (Cheon-bu), it succeeded the Former Heaven (Seon-cheon). There were four Heavenly Persons[i] at the four corners of the castle. They built pillars and sounded music.[ii] The eldest was named Hwang-gung (Yellow Gung),[iii] the second Cheong-gung (Blue Gung), the third Baek-so (White So), and the last Heuk-so (Black So). Mother of two Gungs was Gung-hui (Goddess Gung)[iv] and mother of two Sos was So-hui (Goddess So). Gung-hui and So-hui were the daughters of Mago. Mago was born in Jim-se (My/Our/This World).[v] Mago had no [human] emotion of pleasure and resentment. Taking the Former Heaven male and the Latter Heaven female, Mago bore two Hui Goddesses without mate. Like Mago, two Goddesses, without mate but by the emotion [of the cosmic periods], each bore two Heavenly Persons and two Heavenly Women. They were four Heavenly Persons and four Heavenly Goddesses in all. [i] Here “in” in Cheon-in 天人 is transliterated as a gender-neutral term, “beings.” It means “a person” but often transliterated as “a man.” [ii] The whole sentence can also be translated as “They made tubes and composed music.” [iii] “Ssi” in Hwang-gung-ssi 黃穹氏 intimates both a leader by name of Hwang-gung and the clan led by Hwang-gung. Other terms of “Cheong-gung-ssi,” “Baek-so-ssi,” and “Heuk-so-ssi” are used in the same way. [iv] Literally “hui” in Gung-hui 穹姬 and So-hui 巢姬 means a woman. Since it refers to Mago’s two daughters, I translated it “Goddess.” [v] “Jim” in Jim-se 朕世 can be transliterated as “my,” “our,” or “this.” ◊ Mago-seong (Mago Castle) was the grand castle located on the highest place on the Earth. Mago-seong, located on the highest mountain, is the primordial home of Mago, the Primordial Goddess, and Her descendants, human ancestors. Mago-seong also refers to the Earth itself (see Chapter 2). Mago, the eponymous Goddess, is the head, ruler, and guardian of Mago-seong. She represents the eco-community of the Earth in the intergalactic universe. Mago-seong’s location on the highest mountain symbolizes Mago-seong’s supremacy as the prototype of a Magoist state that will follow the cosmogonic event. Mago-seong’s location also indicates its proximity to the extraterrestrial cosmos, in particular to the Sun, the direct cause of the auto-genesis of all things on Earth. Mago-seong: Paradisiacal home of Mago and Her descendants, human ancestors. The axis mundi (world axis, center of the world) of the Magoist cosmogony.