September 18, 2015October 2, 2019 RTM Editors

(Poem) Artemis by Andrea Nicki

Image by Michiel VanderSommen http://www.mvandersommen.com/artemis%20page.html

She rides her bike in the intense heat

behind a man without a shirt on

She keeps staring at the golden glow of his back

a young Apollo riding the world

How she would like to ride like that

free of encumbrances

the wind cooling her back

people admiring her back’s golden glow

her athletic form

her good practical sense

not a “booby trap,” a “she-devil”

divinely inspirational

an Artemis

Read Meet Mago Contributor Andrea Nicki.

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dlwshieldfacebook2 says:

September 19, 2015 at 6:36 AM

Athletic.

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(Slideshow) Summer Solstice Goddess by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

Sekhmet by Katlyn Each year between December 20-23 Sun reaches Her peak in the Southern Hemisphere: it is the Summer Solstice Moment. Poetry of the Season may be expressed in this way: This is the time when the light part of day is longest. You are invited to celebrate SUMMER SOLSTICE Light reaches Her fullness, and yet… She turns, and the seed of Darkness is born. This is the Season of blossom and thorn – for pouring forth the Gift of Being. The story of Old tells that on this day Beloved and Lover dissolve into the single Song of ecstasy – that moves the worlds. Self expands in the bliss of creativity. Sun ripens in us: we are the Bread of Life. We celebrate Her deep Communion and Reciprocity. Glenys Livingstone, 2005 The choice of images for the Season is arbitrary; there are so many more that may express Her fullness of being, Her relational essence and Her Gateway quality at this time. And also for consideration, is the fact that most ancient images of Goddess are multivalent – She was/is One: that is, all Her aspects are not separate from each other. These selected images tell a story of certain qualities that may be contemplated at the Seasonal Moment of Summer Solstice. As you receive the images, remember that image communicates the unspeakable, that which can only be known in body, below rational mind. So you may open yourself to a transmission of Her, that will be particular to you. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=syTBjWpw3XU Shalako Mana Hopi 1900C.E. (Hallie Iglehart Austen, The Heart of the Goddess), Corn Mother. Food is a miracle, food is sacred. She IS the corn, the corn IS Her. She gives Herself to feed all. The food/She is essential to survival, hospitality and ceremony … and all of this is transmuted in our beings. Sekhmet Contemporary image by Katlyn. Egyptian Sun Goddess. Katlyn says: Her story includes the compassionate nature of destruction. The fierce protection of the Mother is sometimes called to destroy in order to preserve well being. And Anne Key expresses: She represents “the awesome and awe-full power of the Sun. This power spans the destructive acts of creation and the creative acts of destruction.”- (p.135 Desert Priestess: a memoir).A chant in Her praise by Abigail Spinner McBride: Sheila-na-gig 900C.E. British Isles. (Hallie Iglehart Austen, The Heart of the Goddess). From Elinor Gadon The Once and Future Goddess (p.338): “She is remembered in Ireland as the Old Woman who gave birth to all races of human…. In churches her function was to ward off evil”, or to attract the Pagan peoples to the church. From Adele Getty Goddess (p.66): “The first rite of passage of all human beings begins in the womb and ends between the thighs of the Great Mother. In India, the vulva “known as the yoni, is also called cunti or kunda, the root word of cunning, cunt and kin … (the yoni) was worshipped as an object of great mystery … the place of birth and the place where the dead are laid to rest were often one and the same.” Getty says her message here in this image “is double-edged: the opening of her vulva and the smile on her face elicit both awe and terror; one might venture too far inside her and never return to the light of day …” as with all caves and gates of initiation. In the Christian mind the yoni clearly became the “gates of hell”. And as Helene Cixous said in her famous feminist article “The Laugh of the Medusa”: “Let the priests tremble, we’re going to show them our sexts!” (SIGNS Summer 1976) Kunapipi (Australia) “the Aboriginal mother of all living things, came from a land across the sea to establish her clan in Northern Australia, where She is found in both fresh and salt water. In the Northern Territory She is known as Warramurrungundgi. She may also manifest Herself as Julunggul, the rainbow snake goddess of initiations who threatens to swallow children and then regurgitate them, thereby reinforcing the cycle of death and rebirth. In Arnhem Land She is Ngaljod …” (Visions of the Goddess by Courtney Milne and Sherrill Miller – thanks to Lydia Ruyle). More information: re Kunapipi. NOTE the similarity to Gobekli Tepe Sheela Turkey 9600B.C.E., thanks Lydia Ruyle.Lydia Ruyle’s Gobekli Tepe banner. Inanna/Ishtar Mesopotamia 400 B.C.E. (Adele Getty, Goddess: Mother of Living Nature) She holds Her breasts displaying her potency. She is a superpower who feeds the world, nourishes it with Her being. We all desire to feel this potency of being: Swimme and Berry express: “the infinite striving of the sentient being”. Adele Getty calls this offering of breasts to the world “a timeless sacred gesture”. Mary Mother of God 1400 C.E. Europe (Hallie Iglehart Austen, The Heart of the Goddess). A recognition, even in the patriarchal context that She contains it all. Wisdom and Compassion Tibetan Goddess and God in Union. This is Visvatara and Vajrasattva 1800C.E. (Sacred Sexuality A.T. Mann and Jane Lyle). Sri Yantra Hindu meditation diagram of union of Goddess and God. 1500 C.E. (Sacred Sexuality A.T. Mann and Jane Lyle, p.75). “Goddess and God” is the common metaphor, but it could be “Beloved and Lover”, and so it is in the mind of many mystics and poets: that is, the sacred union is of small self with larger Self. Prajnaparamita the Mother of all Buddhas. (The Great Mother Erich Neumann, pl 183). She is the Wisdom to whom Buddha aspired, Whom he attained. Medusa Contemporary, artist unknown. She is a Sun Goddess: this is one reason why it was difficult to look Her in the eye. See Patricia Monaghan, O Mother Sun! REFERENCES: Gadon, Elinor W. The Once and Future Goddess. Northamptonshire: Aquarian, 1990. Getty, Adele. Goddess: Mother of Living Nature. London: Thames and Hudson, 1990. Iglehart Austen, Hallie. The Heart of the Goddess.Berkeley: Wingbow, 1990. Katlyn, artist https://www.mermadearts.com/b/altar-images-art-by-katlyn Key, Anne. Desert Priestess: a memoir. NV: Goddess Ink, 2011. Mann A.T. and …
What Was Never Spoken by Carolyn Lee Boyd

[Author’s Note: This story is a tribute to those all over the world who are courageously reclaiming women’s roles of spiritual power.] Illustration: NASA.Mrshaba at en.wikipedia, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons The seer was both coming home and making yet another journey to the farthest bounds of existence. She entered through the door of a small thatched round dwelling that had been her first gateway to those realms where time is an open horizon and strength emanates from the soul rather than the sword. Her blue cloak, heavy silver brooch, red wool dress, and ornate iron staff were outward symbols of her high status but in this simple house she was still an apprentice. The home belonged to the woman who had taught the seer to peer into the future, to make the rain fall or storms vanish, and to heal or curse, but who had chosen to live out her own last days in her simple gray, roughly woven tunic and bare feet, spinning at her wheel. The elder woman had summoned the seer, simply saying she wished to know the future. The seer settled on a stool by the fire, arranged her cloak around her, laid her staff across her lap, and closed her eyes. She began to chant, riding on the rhymes and intonations, then fell into a silent trance. After a moment, she flinched awake and grabbed her teacher’s hands. “What vision is this?” she asked. “My sight has gone far beyond your fate, deep into the future of our people, and there are no seers, no women prophesying, no one to intervene when the powers of the cosmos threaten, no place for women like us! How can this be? How can those who live in such bereft times survive?” “It is what is never spoken,” the old woman said. “What you see is true. In other lands women seers continue, but not in ours. I saw this myself, right before I retreated to this little hut. I then closed my inner eye and told myself not to speak of this, to let the people of the future make their own way.” The seer left the house, folded away her robes and jewels, and wandered the primeval forest. Her ancestor heart ached for her descendants who would never be able to peer beyond their own narrow lives as she did. She closed her eyes, sang holy songs, and danced until she fell into a trance, then powered her soul forward in time to not just witness, but to be with, the women in the forlorn future. When she opened her eyes, the forest was no more and she stood on a lawn with short grass enclosed by a chainlink fence. She was alone, yet in her heart she could hear the mourning cries of the women from many different centuries and places, heartbroken, emptied out, barren with grief at the loss of that which they could not even name, did not even know had ever been. To never see their own holiness embodied in the women seers, to never know that flights to other realms could happen right in their own kitchens, and to live without the understanding that they and all beings were embedded in a cosmos infused with magic were voids too deep to bear. The seer fell on her knees, grabbing her belly where all the trauma was flowing in. She had not the vigor to intone a blessing, to fall into a trance and prophecy, so she simply laid her hands on the Earth and let the women’s pain flow there, where it could be transfigured. Then she decreed that when she died her grave would lie untouched until the right time when women would find her with her clothes, jewels, amulets, and herbs and know that they, too, held great spiritual power. Maybe then they would begin to hear their own song, to see with their own prophetic eyes, and to hold the staff of their own century. And, indeed, after many centuries her grave, with all the symbols of her office, was excavated, confounding the archeologists who always assumed that only men would lie in such magnificent tombs. But the everyday women who learned of the find recognized their own household tools in the distaff-shaped iron staff, symbols of their own inner spiritual sovereignty in the glorious clothing and jewelry, and their own poignant humanity in the bones of a woman just like them. The seer travelled back to her own time and returned to the old woman’s house a year later for another vision of the far distant future to see what her visit there may have wrought. Her mind’s eye was filled with a burst of blazing light. What did it mean? The elder woman said “Maybe it is the sun and earth exploding, or being born again. Maybe it is the passageway into paradise. Perhaps it is the sacred fire emerging in the souls of those future women again, thanks to you. I think it is all these things and more.” In time, the seer retired to her own small cottage and put away her clothes, jewels, and staff until she would be buried with them. She still sang and danced her way into trances, but this time traveling to the future not to tell what would be, but to create what will be. When she saw a woman just beginning to understand the power within her, she would whisper encouragement and advice. When a circle gathered, she would send into their minds images of her own rituals and chants, that they might know the proper ways, just as her teacher had shown her so long ago. When a barrier was placed in the way of truth, love, and justice, she would offer courage and persistence. Have you heard her voice, received her visions, felt her faith in you on your path? Endnote: Max Dashu’s Witches and Pagans: Women in European Folk Religion, 700-1100, (Veleda Press, …
A Christmas Story by Sara Wright

Photo by Sara Wright My deeply devout French- Italian Catholic Grandmother held my hand as we walked into the village at dusk. We were going to see the crèche. I recall feeling very excited. I loved the story that she had just told me about Mary birthing Jesus in a manger surrounded by animals and doves while Joseph looked on. I was eight years old. Until this Christmas I had never spent any time with my paternal grandmother. This year things were different. My parents were in Europe for a year and I had also been separated from my little brother who was staying with my maternal grandparents while I attended school in the east. My grandparents had sent me back to stay with my great aunts because they didn’t want me to go to Catholic school in California. I missed my little brother so much it hurt. My grandmother’s sisters were kind to me, but I was in a state of perpetual longing… How I ended up staying with this unknown grandmother remains a mystery to this day. It was almost dark when we reached the crèche. I remember nothing beyond being cast into the middle of a living myth. Light seemed to be coming from every direction inside the thatched wooden structure. Mary was cloaked in blue and there was a baby in the straw manger that looked like a doll. Everything else was moving! Joseph held a long wooden staff, and three strange men were coming and going from the manger offering gifts to the baby; they were dressed in extraordinary clothing. Lots of gold. But I was glued to Mary who kept watch over her baby. Beautiful songs floated around us in the air. I can still hear the chords of Silent Night. I gazed up at the sky at some point. Brilliant stars seemed to be falling all around me. Where was the luminous one my grandmother said was in the sky this night? Was that when I saw the animals? Donkeys, cows and sheep, dogs, doves, bears – there were so many – animals of all kinds. I couldn’t name them all! They kept circling around the crèche. Oh, the animals were keeping the family safe from harm! Suddenly, I too felt safe, wrapped in Mary’s cloak, embraced by this Mother of All…loved and protected by the animals. Afterwards, walking home with my grandmother, I wondered about why she hadn’t told me about the animals. And where was the star? I was too shy to ask. Later, I watched my grandmother unwind her beautiful long silver hair. Did she let me brush it? She wore it like a crown during the day. My sweet little grandmother helped me change into my nightgown; that night I was going to sleep in her bed. When she tucked me in my grandmother told me that Mary was going to watch over me all night long. And then, Mary appeared for a second time as my grandmother lit a small light with a figure that glowed pale blue… I remember the deep comfort I experienced knowing that She was in the room with me, as I fell sound asleep. ____________________________________________________________________ Postscript: This is the only memory I have of being with my paternal grandmother during my childhood, except for occasional family holidays when she was always busy caring for masses of relatives. The fact that this experience has stayed with me my entire life suggests its importance. I may have been physically separated from this grandmother because of family conflict but she was the one who made Mary real to me. Until that Christmas I had only experienced this ‘Mother of god’ in a convent that I snuck into almost every day when I walked home from school. In that convent I met Mary surrounded by roses and doves in a beautiful walled garden. The nuns first told me the story of Jesus’s birth. I kept these visits a secret although I was only in kindergarten when I began going to the convent garden. In retrospect I see that I received a tremendous gift from my very devout grandmother the one time I spent with her. Mary lived, and lives still. My relationship with her has sustained me over a lifetime sometimes in the guise of other goddesses. I expect to meet her at the threshold of my death along with the animals and trees I love so much. I have no explanation for seeing so many animals that night at the crèche, but again, in retrospect it is clear that I had a powerful spiritual experience that included animals in a very important way. The animals created the circle of protection not just for the Christian story, but for me. Then and now. Animals taught me how to love the earth and then my body; immanence is as sacred as transcendence. We need both. It’s probably no surprise to the reader that I have lived with, and loved animals all my life, or that I need them more than they will ever need me. The war between my parents over Catholics in general must have been won by my mother early on. How else would a five year old know that she could never reveal the secret garden, the place where Mary lived? Unfortunately, family stories repeat for good or ill and I have lived through another generation of forced family separation and loss. Just recently I have been reunited with my cousin, my dad’s nephew, a joy I never expected to experience. A whole new story is writing itself into our lives. https://www.magoism.net/2014/12/meet-mago-contributor-sara-wright/
(Book Review) Mary Ann Beavis and Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, eds. Goddesses in Myth, History and Culture. Reviewed by Jenny Cameron

[Editor’s Note: This book review was first published in S/HE: An international Journal of Goddess Studies Vol 1 No 2, 2022.] This book is designed as a student and academic resource to those wishing to deepen their understanding of the origination and evolution of concepts of Goddess and related social systems in a range of cultures world-wide, from an evidence-based perspective. This is a collection of papers from a total of 21 authors, edited by Mary Ann Beavis and Helen Hwang, who are also contributors. Each of the writers has experience and qualifications that reflect their authority on the topics upon which they write. The overview authority lies with the editors. Mary Ann Beavis PhD, is currently the Professor of Religion and Culture at St. Thomas More College, University of Saskatchewan and an author. Helen Hwang holds an M.A. and Ph.D in Religion and would be the world expert on Magoism (an ancient East Asian faith system and culture, recognising Mago as the Great Goddess), certainly in the English language. She is author or editor of a number of books on Magoism or inclusive of this tradition. Each author is a researcher into a niche area of Goddess tradition and all chapters are extensively footnoted, indicative of the breadth of resources they have drawn upon, including, in some cases images of artworks under discussion. The authors and the chapter headings where images occur are as follows (the number of images or tables is listed in brackets): Helen Hye-Sook Hwang – Mago, the Creatrix from East Asia, and the Mytho-History of Magoism (8) Jody Foster – The Prehistoric Goddess Figurines of Old Europe (3) Joan M. Cichon – The Mother Goddess of Bronze Age Crete. (6) Krista Karen Rodin – From Heaven to Hell, Virgin Mother to Witch: The Evolution of the Great Goddess of Egypt. (12) Mara Lynn Keller – The Myriad Faces, Marvellous Powers, and Thealogy of Greek Goddesses. (2) Marta-Lena Bergstedt & Kristin Brunsgaard Clausen – The Norse Goddesses behind the Asir Veil: The Vanir Mothers in Continental Scandinavia – A Late Shamanistic Culture Rooted in Old European Civilisation. (28) Annette Williams – The Divine Feminine in Yoruba Cosmology. (2) Krista Rodin – The Blending of Bon, Buddhism and the Goddess Gemu in Mosuo Culture. (5) Helen Hye-Sook Hwang – Goma, the Shaman Ruler of old Magoist East Asia/Korea. (5) Mary Ann Beavis & Scott Daniel Dunbar – Goddesses in Hinduism: “All the Mothers are One.” (10) Justin Jaron Lewis – The Divine Feminine in Contemporary Judaism. (1) Mary Ann Beavis – Goddesses and the Divine Female in the Biblical Traditions. (3) Goddesses in Myth, History and Culture explores the key theme that humans originally conceived of the spiritual realm in terms of a female deity – a Mother Goddess to be precise – and that traces of this can be found even in the religions that now place a male God at the centre of their belief system. The book further illustrates that this was a world-wide phenomenon with regional and local expression of it. As the period of Goddess-centred cultures mostly occurred prior to written language, the writers are largely reliant on interpreting the archaeological record for support. However the writers also use linguistics to identify traces in languages today of the old languages that expressed the Goddess culture, lifestyle and spiritual context. We learn in this book that when patriarchy (as opposed to a Goddess centred ideology) came to dominate – usually through invasion – a common strategy was to incorporate the local Goddesses into the invader pantheon, and then, over time diminish their powers and importance. These authors have undertaken to untangle this web to bring to light the original Goddess and her attributes. The book is not just embedded in the past however and also relates how the Goddess tradition is expressed today. Four chapters explore both the practice and the belief system informing this emergent spirituality. This book is a major contribution to the field of Goddess Studies in that it makes readily available informed scholarship, in English, that could otherwise be hard to find. The material in each chapter expands on a specialty that that author has explored. Some interpretations could well be controversial because they shine light into some long-held (or long-assumed) beliefs about cultural origins. I was particularly struck in this regard by the work on the Mago tradition, the Norse Goddesses and Islam. The chapters are written on the basis of an academic approach by the writers, not as believers in a particular religion – although undoubtedly the authors have their own belief systems which in some cases would assist their understanding of the topic of their chapter. This saves the language from the feeling that the reader must make a leap of faith to understand the positions being put, but can assess for themselves how valid they find the arguments made. At points in the book typographical missteps can be identified though without damage to the content. I found the use of Korean/Chinese symbols important but sometimes difficult to fully understand in the translation – further editorial work would have helped here. While I was aware of Heide Goettner-Abendroth’s research that showed the movement of matriarchal peoples throughout Asia, I was particularly struck with the contributions of Helen Hwang with regard to Magoism in the book. She explores, even into historical times, the culture in coastal South-East Asia based on the Mother Goddess Mago and the social system that resulted. This would largely be hidden to the West if not for Helen Hwang’s work. Likewise the exploratory work by Bergstedt and Clausen provides an alternative understanding of the Norse Goddesses from that usually presented. As well, both Keller and Hawthorne in their separate pieces provide insights into the origins of Greek Goddesses, which too often are assumed known from the patriarchal presentation of them. There are many publications available relevant to Goddess Studies, starting with publications in the mid 1970s, which are still relevant today. This book …
(Book Excerpt 6) Re-Membering with Goddess: Healing the Patriarchal Perpetuation of Trauma by Trista Hendren

https://thegirlgod.com/re-membering.php Motherline Re-Membering Amber R Balk, Ph.D. Incarnating into a home devoid of goddess, I was born in 1982 into a fundamentalist Christian family in rural Tennessee to a Native American mother and a father of English, Irish, and Welsh descent. Not only was there was no goddess at home but none in the entire town, except perhaps a brief glimpse of her in the Catholic church, a fact my Pentecostal mother considered repulsive and heretical. I was not allowed to go near the Catholic church, not that I felt particularly called to visit. Both parents were disconnected in various ways from ancestral roots, but it was more explicit and malicious on my mother’s end. Her dark skin, obsidian eyes, and raven-blue-black hair she regarded as an abomination, a curse. Ever strategic, she chose my father for his pale skin, blond hair, and blue eyes. Being Native American was taboo in our household. Right up there with the goddess. Right up there with pagan (generally pronounced with a spat). Right up there with The Devil. These things were bad and would earn you a nonstop, one-way ticket to eternity in hell. “Mama, what should I put on the tests for race? White? Native American? Other?” Truly perplexed, I asked this after my first day of standardized testing in elementary school. Spontaneous combustion. “YOU ARE WHITE!!!” she growled. “Oh. Hmmm… [glances at brown arm, looks at mother’s obvious non-whiteness] Okay, but…” “But nothing.” End of conversation. Thankfully, I have always been rebellious and headstrong. I knew something was terribly off in her words and actions, but it would take many years to gain understanding. Re-membering would be largely a solo journey. I tried to find answers everywhere but ran into endless locked doors. I did not realize this lack of external answers was habitually turning me to look inward instead. I did not think I had any answers. With time, I realized this inherent self-mistrust was inaccurate and unnecessary. Like internalized racism, internalized disempowerment serves to break one down from the inside out. When the weapon is seeded as a self- activating force through generations of oppression, hatred, and abuse, it is particularly insidious. Challenging to see, much less root out. But it is possible. Dismemberment helps, but re- membering is essential. The following story is told in bits and pieces of lived experience, woven together through blood, breath, prayer, and ritual. The demanding journey required much: 20+ years of Jungian analysis, countless hours weeping and screaming in Holotropic Breathwork sessions, lots of dreamwork, late night conversations with wonderful friends, notebook after notebook of journaling, a degree in women’s spirituality, another degree in transpersonal psychology, and countless prayers and ceremonies. I share my story with the hope and intention that it will serve others on parallel paths of re-membering. 2006. Dismemberment commences. I cut myself out of my parents’ home. The choice clear, either become a submissive housewife like my mother or shape myself into an accomplished professional. A westward call whispered its beckoning since I was about eight years old. With heaves of daring determination and a willingness to sever ties and leave all my friends and family, I finally arrive in California. Initially, it is an ecstatic self- homecoming. I enter doctoral studies as a perfectionistic, driven 24-year-old. Focused. Ambitious. Competitive. And perhaps narrow-minded, which I translate as hyper-fixated on lofty goals. With certainty, I am confident this is an ideal approach to life. A good girl, I swallow my patriarchal lessons whole. Dismemberment continues as aspirations and drive are stripped away. In my first year of graduate studies, it creeps in slowly and overtakes me in a disorienting fog that I never saw coming. Nothing works. My research ideas are rejected (however, I am offered the option of pursuing a male professor’s research ideas instead, which I politely decline and then find myself increasingly ostracized and unsupported). My spark fades. Before long, I am struggling for direction, frantically treading water. This quickly develops into a full-blown attempt to keep my head above tumultuous waves, and when this fails, I sink to the bottom, swallowed by the depths of a dark night of the soul. These clichéd metaphors are intended to sidestep the boring and mundane details of daily lackluster life. For a feisty, ambitious young woman under the impression that she is fierce, independent, and on a mission, this layer of dismemberment is probably the most painful. Before this point in my development, I thought I had escaped patriarchal trauma, but it slowly begins to reveal itself through the stripping. In desperation I sign up for a Lakota-style vision quest in Mt. Shasta, hoping for clarity but also longing for a taste of Native American perspective, so lacking from my Native American life. My ancestors are Choctaw and likely of other southeastern tribal affiliations—we do not really know. I usually identify myself as “a descendant of the southeastern peoples of the Mighty Mississippi River Valley.” The Mississippi is my mother goddess. Lakota culture is quite different, in background, cosmology, and region, but the teachings I receive are much better than the nothing my mother dishes out. After months of preparation, both physically and spiritually, I spend four days and three nights camped on Mt. Shasta beneath tall pines with little more than prayer ties and courage. On the third day, I am meditating in a pleasantly receptive state of mind. A hummingbird hovers overhead, and ripples of iridescent energy course through my body. I ask questions in my mind and hear immediate responses. After playing around with this newfound entertaining ability, I summon my most important query: “Will I be a good psychologist? I mean, will I make a difference in the world?” Instead of an immediate response, there is a long pause. Wind snakes through the trees. A squirrel barks. I am about to give up waiting when the words come: “You… will be a wonderful mother.” I roll my eyes and huff. This is the …
Meet Mago Contributor Ruma Chakravarti

Ruma Chakravarti was born in Africa, had her schooling in India and has lived in six countries. A high school mathematics teacher in her other life, Ruma is an avid blogger, writer and people watcher. Her interests include Rabindranath Tagore, reading, folklore and music, crafts, gardening and films. She currently lives in Adelaide, Australia with her family which includes three children, one dog and one rabbit. Her blogs include: http://animikha.wordpress.com/: Translations of Tagore http://banglarmukh-ruma.blogspot.in/: Translations of other Bengali writers. Published posts from the recent: (Prose poem) Plaiting (Human Rights Day poem) A maid for Mrs X
(Essay) Snake Story by Judy Foster

Australian snakes are among the most beautiful and efficient creatures of the bush. They come in a range of sizes with varying degrees of toxicity, or none at all, and, in most cases, go about their business peacefully. Their colours and protective patterns are wonderfully varied, and suited to their environment. Surprisingly, snakes are deaf – they have no ears but use their forked tongues to smell and sense the presence of prey. They can feel the movement of larger creatures through the movement vibrations of body contact with the earth of larger creatures, including humans.
(Essay) Beyond the Veil by Kaalii Cargill

The original Greek word for apocalypse – apokalypsis – does not mean “end times”. It means “to unveil”. This is the apocalypse we are living through: a process of unveiling and revealing. Patriarchy is not inevitable. It is not sustainable. If we are to survive and thrive as a species, we must first reveal it, and then undo it: in our systems, and in ourselves. Jess Hill, 2020, Privilege, power, patriarchy: are these the reason for the mess we’re in? https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2020/oct/18/privilege-power-patriarchy-are-these-the-reasons-for-the-mess-were-in Threshold of Corycian Cave, Mt Parnassus, Greece. Kaalii Cargill, 2015. When I read these potent words by Jess Hill, I pondered how it is that I reveal and undo patriarchy in my everyday life. This is what came to me: Sleeping and waking in Kairos time rather than Kronos time. Kronos is linear time, the time of clocks and calendars. It moves from a set past towards a determined future. Kairos time is the soul’s time. It spirals and shifts back and forth. It cannot be determined. Moving slowly, noticing my body, my bare feet on the ground, my breath: longer exhalations (breathing in cycles: in for 4, holding for 7, out for 8). Dressing in clothes for how they feel rather than how they look. Breaking the fast of the night with food and drink I enjoy. Gathering information about the world from sources that inform rather then indoctrinate – books; selected social media platforms; the quality of light. Living close to trees and birds and changing weather. Contributing to projects and movements that unveil and stand against and/or apart from abuses of privilege and power. Being curious. Walking through ancient doorways and crossing mysterious thresholds. Looking for Her everywhere. Being open to wonder and surprise . . . Kybele/Artemis, first Century CE. Ephesus Archaeological Museum, Selçuk, Anatolia. She is so much younger than many other Goddess figures, so Her numinous presence took me by surprise . . . Grandmother of Savignano, c22,000 BCE. Pigorini Museum, Rome. There She was, standing alone in a small glass case at the back of the room, waiting . . . How do you reveal and undo patriarchy in your everyday life? Where we live, how we get money, how we spend our money, who our friends are, what we eat, what we wear, what we do for fun, how we quarrel and how we make up, the art we make, who our lovers are and what we do with them, what organizations we participate in, how we relate to institutions of government and law, what rites and rituals we participate in, what we celebrate and how, and the language we use . . .always, everywhere, on any topic the language and languages we use . . .all these things align our energies and powers with or against (or ambiguously with and against) oppression, resistance, liberation. Marilyn Frye, from the Introduction to Marilyn Murphy’s Are You Girls Travelling Alone? Clothespin Fever Press, Los Angeles, 1991, p. 14. Meet Mago Contributor Kaalii Cargill
(Tribute 2) My Loving Father (7/31/1935-10/10/2020) by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D.

My father’s grave with offerings of three fruits and the dried fish with a cup for rice wine. I was able to visit South Korea last month to be with the spirit of my father who passed away about 20 months ago. I missed my father’s presence strongly. There was a hole in my heart, as if a big tree was uprooted. That would be what our loved ones do to the living when they die. My two week-long time spent with my mother and my two younger brothers (and their families) alongside a visit to my father’s grave comforted me. I am accepting that he has transformed. I feel I am surrounded by his warmth. The travel time including a few days before I left and after I returned home was a time of grace, a gift that my father sent to me. To say so is only an understatement. Death of loved ones snatches the bereaved and places them in the matriversal reality, WE/HERE/NOW. I did not expect that the covid era was coming in 2019. At least, a time like that came too soon. No one in our family knew that we would send him off that way, alone in the hospital. We were not able to say a proper goodbye to him. The last phone conversation I had with him became a small remedy that held my grief pain bearable. I was absent during his funeral and at the first year anniversary of his death when my family conducted a ceremony at home. It felt like a train left without me. Or I could not get on the train where everyone else in my family was there. My flight in May was my ticket to get on that train.I was biting my time to be there. And my time came. My youngest brother from overseas was visiting Korea. I knew that I needed to be there. My youngest brother was sweet at heart, having gently encouraged me to come. I took an opportunity to undertake a covid timespace travel. South Korea is strict with covid regulations. Vaccinations were done in time. I knew that I was required to take a covid test but wasn’t aware that there were different types of test. At the check-in counter at the airport, they found me having the wrong test and could or did not board me because of that. I insisted that I had to go as early as possible. They put me on the flight the following day. So I decided to spend overnight again at the airport, while taking the right kind of test during the day. Because my flight was 7AM, an inconvenient time to arrive at the airport, I had already stayed overnight at the departure area. On the second day, I thought I was going to fly. At the check-in counter, however, they found me not having the covid time visa required by the South Korean government and could not board me. I accepted it for the second time and was unusually calm. They put me on the flight schedule in two days. So I decided to come home. It was a day of such relief from the airport ordeal (I could not lie down for two days). That was a test on myself. I coped with it. What a sweet sleep I had on that night at home. While enjoying a day at home, I forgot to put on warm clothes for the chilly weather. I was coming down with a cold. I did not want people at the airport to mistake it for a covid infection. Upon leaving for the airport, I packed an electric heating pad to sit on over the night. And I minimized my activities other than using the internet, while trying to write an essay. Usually, I make my air travel time a writing time. No one knew that I had a cold. At the check-in counter, I passed and boarded the plane on the third time. During those several days, I was informed that the first younger brother contracted covid. So our family gathering was postponed. On the day I arrived, my youngest brother confirmed that he contracted covid too. Then, it went to his wife, my sister-in-law. One had horrible symptoms, and the others had minor effects. So our previously made plans were hanging in the air. In a week or so, all of them recovered from it. Almost all things seemed uncertain for plans. That did not discourage me.There was more to an airport sleeping. I arrived at the Incheon airport in the evening. There was no shuttle to get to my mother’s town. My youngest brother had informed me of that so I was not surprised. They had cut down the bus schedule drastically during the covid time, of course. We are witnessing the shift of the so-called public life under the pandemic phenomenon. I decided to spend the night at the Incheon airport, which was much easier than in the Los Angeles airport, and wanted to take advantage of taking another required covid test in the morning at the airport. I was not only amazingly calm but also began enjoying the challenge. So what? My cold was gone and I safely arrived in Korea! I could have been so upset as to seek ways to fight back authorities. I was different this time. It was a sacred journey that I was embarking, now come to think of it. I was seeing everything that was happening on the parts of the Korean government, the airline company, and covid policies, etc. but was unshaken at the core by those turmoils. I made it in the end. Everything was fine with me. Spending as much time as possible with my mother was my plan. It was for everyone’s needs. My mother needed to see me, I needed to see her to help filling in the void in her heart/mind. And that worked perfectly. I was …
(Poem) she who unbraids time by Nicole Rain Sellers

The three Moirai, or the Triumph of death, Flemish tapestry, c. 1520 (Victoria and Albert Museum, London) as currents collide deep in streams she swings in history’s hammock her spindle drops whirs twists feet bounce on bungee cords a snake strikes rears recoils old highways spool in mirrors birds fly backwards over valleys a cyclone spins counterclockwise seeds spat out of forest mulch are sucked into black hole pinecones sucked into black hole pinecones cracked off twigs wheeled across bridges danced grapevine at weddings and wakes her fingers twine smiles with scowls weave liaisons fast and loose stitch protoplasm membranes blood warp rope ladders set weft snares watches tick clapsticks click needles knit capillaries branch elliptical stars this haphazard galaxy swerves this haphazard galaxy swerves at crossroads between worlds lost hailstones rattle in her hair spliced film loops in monochrome her shears cut bones into dust sandcastles backfill waterfalls dripped candle wax rises smooth a lit match hovers above the wick birth forgets what death remembers vines hiding in seeds plot trajectories and currents collide deep in streams (Meet Mago Contributor) Nicole Rain Sellers
(Poetry) Whales and the Cosmos by Harriet Ann Ellenberger

What if whales are singing the music of the spheres? What if whales sing in the rhythms and tones of creation creating? What if whale song brings forth new being? What if whale song travels beyond earth’s bubble of air? What if whale song reaches the stars? What if whales sing to the stars? What if the stars sing back? – Harriet Ann Ellenberger, 15 December 2018 note: “Whales and the Cosmos” was inspired by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang’s most recent work in reconstructing the old mytho-history of East Asia, in which whales, stars and creation-through-sound play a large part (see her articles in Return to Mago E-zine). The wild-eyed questions in the poem are mine, but she was the muse. Scientists are still not certain what purpose is served by the lengthy and extraordinarily complex songs of whales. Meet Mago Contributor, Harriet Ann Ellenberger. The image is from the blog “Cosmic Reflections” by David Oesper.
Heterochromia Poem by Louise M Hewett

an aerial photo from Pixabay (free for commercial use) of a road through an autumn forest I comb my hair silver cobweb flies in an electric breeze tells stories Heterochromia of the hair and other wonders describe the landscape of my wanderings across worlds and oceans privileges my ancestors never knew but for those fleeing home in search of in search of better chances better health hope, food, room to breathe no disease perhaps illusions perhaps colonial confusions, ignorance tied to desperation and even earlier in earlier times, the dawn of days when my hair was glossy brown red and corn gold like the woodland waning luxurious by season, pollen dusted lives entrusted though we knew not the past the woman’s past, how minds were shaped or the possibilities then what memory did she suppress after 1727 after 1735 what suppressed terror shaped her? conveniently declared too delicate whilst carrying the enormous load of childbearing childrearing bleeding cooking cleaning growing shifting slicing spinning knitting sowing digging peeling splitting lifting roasting weaving nursing cleaving stitching brewing reaping mending bending trudging fucking tending sorting healing and aborting but oh, too malformed to consider the manly matters of philosophy of social and cultural authority often ignored because because what he did gained coin more this, that, weight, sex privilege the economic arrangement a sly design contrived to divide resentment violence conjured, made metaphysical in scripture in romance in marriage design taught as a god’s will to capture herd enclose embitter violate hoard stagnate poison putrefy rot and when fetid to be passed on to the innocent passed on without effort because effort requires effort requires effort requires effort requires the wide miles of blue and brown and green not seen not even dreamed my heterochromia hair shimmers shakes out through history cobwebs and corn silk weaving her own stories not documented not categorised not filed or compiled unrecorded unregarded but lived worn, actually and factually known in her hands in the fat pouch above her sex, our way through. Known and remembered, by each season by the daughters who wake in a cold sweat having dreamed of lush countries or terror, song~circles and moonlight holy mushrooms and earthy stores of power of a dark old woman standing in shadows whispering once upon a time. Although sometimes she’s hissing wake up! Portrait of Louise M Hewett Note: 1727 was the year of the last recorded witch trial in Scotland (almost 300 years ago now) 1735 was the year of the last recorded witch trial in England https://www.magoism.net/2019/03/meet-mago-contributor-louise-m-hewett/
The Dance of Clutha by Jude Lally

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

(Special Post 3) Nine-Headed Dragon Slain by Patriarchal Heroes: A Cross-cultural Discussion by Mago Circle Members

[Editor’s Note: This and the ensuing sequels are a revised version of the discussion that […]
(Special Post 5) Why Goddess Feminism, Activism, or Spirituality? A Collective Writing

[Editor’s Note: This was first proposed in The Mago Circle, Facebook Group, on March 6, 2014. […]
(Special post) Laurie Baymarrwangga, Senior Australian of the Year 2012

Posted with permission in Return to Mago on ‘Australia Day’, 26 January 2014 (Australian time), […]
(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 […]
(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. […]
(Special Post Mother Teresa 1) A Role Model for Women? by Mago Circle Members

[Editorial Note: The following is an edited version of the discussion that took place spontaneously […]

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

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

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

Tara, Hallie Iglehart Austen, p.122 On November 7th at 22:56 UTC EarthGaia crosses the midpoint in Her orbit between Equinox and Solstice. In the Southern Hemisphere it is the Season of Beltaine – a maturing of the Light, post-Spring Equinox. Beltaine and all of the light part of the cycle, is particularly associated with the Young One/Virgin aspect of Goddess, even as She comes into relationship with Other: She remains Her own agent. Beltaine may be understood as the quintessential annual celebration of Light as it continues to wax towards fullness. It is understood to be the beginning of Summer. Here is some Poetry of the Season: Earth tilts us further towards Mother Sun, the Source of Her pleasure, life and ecstasy You are invited to celebrate BELTAINE the time when sweet Desire For Life is met – when the fruiting begins: the Promise of early Spring exalts in Passion. This is the celebration of Holy Lust, Allurement, Aphrodite … Who holds all things in form, Who unites the cosmos, Who brings forth all things, Who is the Essence of the Dance of Life. Glenys Livingstone, 2005 The choice of images for the Season is arbitrary; there are so many more that may express this quality of Hers. And also for consideration, is the fact that most ancient images of Goddess are multivalent – She was/is One: that is, all Her aspects are not separate from each other. These selected images tell a story of certain qualities that may be contemplated at the Seasonal Moment of Beltaine. As you receive the images, remember that image communicates the unspeakable – that which can only be known in body – below rational mind. So you may open yourself to a transmission of Her, that will be particular to you. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SKGRoVjQQHY Aphrodite 300 B.C.E. (Hallie Iglehart Austen, The Heart of the Goddess). This Greek Goddess is commonly associated with sexuality in a trivial kind of way, but She was said to be older than Time (Barbara Walker p.44). Aphrodite as humans once knew Her, was no mere sex goddess: Aphrodite was once a Virgin-Mother-Crone trinity – the Creative Force itself. The Love that She embodied was a Love deep down in things, an allurement intrinsic to the nature of the Universe. Praised by the Orphics thus: For all things are from You Who unites the cosmos. You will the three-fold fates You bring forth all things Whatever is in the heavens And in the much fruitful earth And in the deep sea. Vajravarahi 1600C.E. Tibetan Tantric Buddhism (Hallie Iglehart Austen, The Heart of the Goddess). A Dakini dancing with life energy – a unity of power, beauty, compassion and eroticism. Praised as Mistress of love and of knowledge at the same time. Tara Contemporary – Green Gulch California ,Tibetan Buddhist. (Hallie Iglehart Austen, The Heart of the Goddess). “Her eroticism is an important part of her bodhisattvahood: the sweetpea represents the yoni, and she is surrounded by the sensual abundance of Nature. One of Tara’s human incarnations was as the Tibetan mystic Yeshe Tsogyal, “who helped many people to enlightenment through sacred sexual union with her”. – Ishtar 1000 B.C.E. Babylon (Hallie Iglehart Austen, The Heart of the Goddess). Associated with passionate sexuality (and with Roman Goddess Venus) – which was not perceived as separate from integrity and intelligence … praised for Her beauty and brains! Her lips are sweet, Life is in Her mouth. When She appears, we are filled with rejoicing. She is glorious beneath Her robes. Her body is complete beauty. Her eyes are total brilliance. Who could be equal to Her greatness, for Her decrees are strong, exalted, perfect. MESOPOTAMIAN TEXT 1600 B.C.E. Artemis 4th Cent.B.C.E. Greece. (Hallie Iglehart Austen, The Heart of the Goddess) – classic “Virgin” image – wild and free, “Lady of the Beasts”, Goddess of untamed nature. As such, in the patriarchal stories She is often associated with harshness, orgiastic rituals but we may re-story “wildness” in our times as something “innocent” – in direct relationship with the Mother. She is a hunter/archer, protector, midwife, nurturing the new and pure essence (the “wild”) – in earlier times these things were not contradictory. The hunter had an intimate relationship with the hunted. Visvatara and Vajrasattva 1800C.E. Tibetan Goddess and God in Union: it could be any Lover and Beloved, of same sex. Image from Mann and Lyle, “Sacred Sexuality” p.74. Sacred Couple –Mesopotamia 2000-1600 BCE “Lovers Embracing on Bed”, Inanna Queen of Heaven and Earth, Diane Wolkstein and Samuael Noah Kramer. Represents the sacred marriage mythic cycle – late 3rd and into 4th millennium B.C.E. (See Starhawk, Truth or Dare). This period is the time of Enheduanna – great poet and priestess of Inanna. Xochiquetzal 8th century C.E. Mayan (Hallie Iglehart Austen, The Heart of the Goddess). Her name means “precious flower” – She is Goddess of pleasure, sexuality beauty and flowers. Sometimes represented by a butterfly who sips the nectar of the flower. “In ancient rituals honouring her, young people made a bower of roses, and, dressed as hummingbirds and butterflies they danced an image of the Goddess of flowers and love.” Her priestesses are depicted with ecstatic faces. (called “laughing Goddesses” !!) She and Her priestesses unashamedly celebrated joyful female sexuality – there is story of decorating pubic hairs to outshine the Goddess’ yoni. https://www.magoism.net/2013/06/meet-mago-contributor-glenys-livingstone/ REFERENCES: Iglehart Austen, Hallie. The Heart of the Goddess. Berkeley: Wingbow, 1990. Mann A.T. and Lyle, Jane. Sacred Sexuality. ELEMENT BOOKS LTD, 1995. Starhawk. Truth or Dare. San Fransisco:Harper and Row, 1990. Walker, Barbara. The Woman’s Encyclopaedia of Myths and Secrets. San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1983. Wolkstein,Diane and Kramer, Samuel Noah. Inanna Queen of Heaven and Earth. NY: Harper and Rowe, 1983. The music for the slideshow is “”Coral Sea Dreaming” by Tania Rose.
Imbolc: Through Goddess Eyes by Carolyn Lee Boyd

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

A bird for this season is the Kingfisher, also known as the Halcyon. The Kingfisher is associated in Greek myth with the Winter Solstice. There were fourteen “halcyon days” in every year, seven of which fell before the winter solstice, seven after; peaceful days when the sea was smooth as a pond and the hen-halcyon built a floating nest and hatched out her young. She also had another habit, that of carrying her dead mate on her back over the sea and mourning him with a plaintive cry. Pliny reported that the halcyon was rarely seen and then only at the winter and summer solstices and at the setting of the Pleiades. She was therefore, a manifestation of the Moon-Goddess who was worshiped at the two solstices as the Goddess of Life in Death and Death in Life and, when the Pleiades set, she sent the sacred king his summons for death. Kingfishers are typically stocky, short-legged birds with large heads and large, heron-like beaks. They feed primarily on fish, hovering over the water or watching intently from perches and they plunge headlong into the water to catch their prey. Their name, Alcedinidae, stems from classical Greek mythology. Alcyone, Daughter of the Wind, was so distraught when her husband perished in a shipwreck that she threw herself into the sea. Both were then transformed into kingfishers and roamed the waves together. When they nested on the open sea, the winds remained calm and the weather balmy. Still another Alcyone, Queen of Sailing, was the mystical leader of the seven Pleiades. The heliacal rising of the Pleiades in May marked the beginning of the navigational year and their setting marked the end. Alcyone, as Sea Goddess protected sailors from rocks and rough weather. The bird, halcyon continued for centuries to be credited with the magical power of allaying storms. Shakespeare refers to this legend in this passage from Hamlet: Some say that ever ‘gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour’s birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long; And then, they say, no spirit can walk abroad; The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow’d and so gracious is the time. Hamlet, I, i 157 When I was a young mother, and my children were little, we lived in a house that had a creek in the back yard. There were small trees along the far bank of this creek and every day, a kingfisher would sit in the branches overlooking the creek. Sometimes he sat there very quietly for a very long time. Suddenly he would dive from his perch straight into the creek. Every time he did he came out and up into the air with a fish. It gave me great pleasure to watch him from my kitchen window. I love birds. I love learning about their habits because it teaches me ways of being that are closer to nature. I love drawing birds as well. When I was a young and more able, I was an avid bird watcher, out with my friends hoping for a sight never seen before. I love the story of the kingfisher and her connection to the Halcyon Days of the Winter Solstice. It is for most of us the busiest time of year. Whether it is for the Solstice or Christmas (often both) we are in a frenzy to get things done, making sure everything is just right and perfect. I celebrate the Winter Solstice. As a priestess, my days right now are very busy creating ritual. It is at the Solstice that many passage rites are happening with the women I work with. And of course, I celebrate with my family with our magical Yule Log each year. But I try to honor those seven days before and the seven days after by trying to have the frantic moments before the Halcyon Days begin and then even when busy, hold the peace and calm of that beautiful smooth sea in my mind. Peace and love and joy surrounding the Winter Solstice make it perfect. May the Peace of a Halcyon Sea be yours in this Solstice Season. Do hold the image of that little kingfisher in mind! Meet Mago Contributor, Deanne Quarrie
(Essay and Video) Cosmogenesis Dance: Celebrating Her Unfolding by Glenys Livingstone

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

Day of the Dead altar, via Wikimedia Commons According to Celtic tradition, on Samhain (October 31 for those in the north and April 30 for those in the south) the doors between the human and spirit worlds open. Faeries, demons, and spirits of the dead pour out of the Otherworld to walk the Earth. In the past, some would try to hurry ghosts past their houses or ward off evil spirits by setting jack o’lanterns in their windows. They avoided going outside, especially past cemeteries, lest they be snatched away to the Otherworld. In ancient times, some offered sacrifices to propitiate deities. However, others have invited in the souls of friends and family who have passed away. In Brittany, according to W.Y. Evans-Wentz’s Fairy-Faith in Celtic Countries, people would provide “a feast and entertainment for them of curded-milk, hot pancakes, and cider, served on the family table covered with a fresh white tablecloth, and to supply music” which “the dead come to enjoy with their friends” (p. 218). Other cultures also have such welcoming traditions. In Korea, as so beautifully described by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang in her posts about her family’s mourning for her father (Part I and Part II), in Mexico on the Day of the Dead, and elsewhere, food and flowers are brought to cemeteries to honor those no longer in the realm of the living. Many of us live in a society where death is pushed out of sight and Samhain’s sacred traditions have devolved into Halloween, a commercialized children’s holiday. Still, it seems to me that the pandemic, climate catastrophes, and war have made death much more present in our everyday thoughts over the past couple of years than before, so perhaps this year’s Samhain offers us the opportunity to re-examine Celtic and other practices of the past and present to see what insights and meaning they may have for us. Jack o lanterns: By Mihaela Bodlovic, via Wikimedia Commons All these ancient practices respect the spirit world and its power. Whether you believe that the Otherworld can wreak havoc on us at Samhain or not, the realm where spirits dwell clearly has power. Its allure can take us away from focusing on mundane, daily challenges or, more positively, open our eyes to the value of relating to forces that can give richness and meaning to our lives. At the same time, we must remember that each domain has its own power. We can use our physical bodies in beneficial ways that those in the Otherworld cannot. We must respect the power of the Otherworld as well as our own. Some kinds of healing are only possible when we welcome those from the Otherworld into our lives in a healthy way, whether through holiday visits or every day through remembrance, meditation, prayer, or other means. I’m of an age when many of my beloveds are in the Otherworld and so I am beginning to find that the idea of being able to sit with someone I have lost is cause not for fear, but rather joy and comfort. Perhaps those who have longstanding wounds from the past can heal by remembering those we have lost at Samhain and forgiving them or ourselves or realizing that we are no longer bound to those who have hurt us and are now gone. Samhain can also reassure us of the truth of our intuitive sense that our beloveds who we grieve are with us still, in some way, on this night and throughout the year. When we participate in the celebration of Samhain’s opening of doors to the Otherworld, if only for a day, we are honoring our own participation into the great cycle of life, death, and rebirth. We are expanding our vision of ourselves to be more than our bodies on the Earth and experiencing ourselves as connected to many realms, seen and unseen, spirit and human. We are accepting that at some time we will also become ancestors, with all the responsibility that entails and the fulfillment of taking our place in the complex matrix of being that is our universe. When we interact with the souls of those we have lost in ways that are healthy for us, however we may choose and believe that happens, we can also better celebrate the realm of the living. Just as we may listen in various ways for positive messages from those whom we have lost, we can ensure that we are expressing important guidance to those who will come after us by who we are and how we live our lives. We can express that life is worth living, even with all its traumas, and that we respect both the boundaries and the doors between the worlds so that we may continue living fully in our physical bodies on our beautiful, awe-inspiring Earth. I hope my message to my descendants will be: Love your lives. Build on what we have done and do better. Leave behind what we left you that no longer serves. If you feel alone, remember that you have thousands of generations of mothers sending you unconditional love and also generations of women coming after you eager to pick up where you left off. According to Mary Condren in The Serpent and the Goddess, in the most ancient times, “Samhain had been primarily a harvest feast celebrating the successful growth and gathering of the fruits of the past year” (p. 36). While we in the north are coming into the season of death, those in the south are experiencing Beltane, the first moments of spring when the doors between the worlds are also open. The eternal cycle of life, death, and regeneration turns again. Whether you are celebrating Samhain or Beltane, know that this holy time offers us all a chance to enter into the task of maintaining harmony with those we have loved before and for bringing balance between life and death, winter and summer, and the realm of the living and …

(Budoji Essay 3) The Magoist Cosmogony by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

“Reintroducing the concept of the Mago Species has a profound implication, compelling one’s vocabularies to be changed to the Mother’s Tongue.” [This is a translation and interpretation of the Budoji (Epic of the Emblem City), principal text of Magoism. Read the translation of Chapter 1 of the Budoji.] There were Four Heavenly Persons at the four corners of the castle. They built pillars and sounded music. Four Heavenly Persons are the four clan leaders who reside in the four corners of Mago Castle, Primordial Paradise. They are entrusted by Mago to cultivate the acoustical effect of the universe (the original music). While the translation of “pillars” is provisional, it may mean a musical instrument of some primordial sort. Given the importance of stone, a theme reiterated in later chapters of the Budoji, the pillars may refer to the stone structure that supports a musical instrument. Or they may indicate stone chimes or an acoustical rock structure.
(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 …
(Photo Essay 2) ‘Gaeyang Halmi, the Sea Goddess of Korea’ by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

Part II: The Lost Iconography of Gaeyang Halmi We visited the Suseong Shrine a second time on July 11, 2012. I looked inside the Shrine wherein a shaman ritual was being performed by a Mudang (Korean Shaman)[i] and her assistants. The Mudang in colorful ritual outfit appeared to console her female client on behalf of the spirit. The ritual continued another hour or so and we waited outside until she finished her performance. We had come here on the day of arrival in Jungmak-dong, Buan. The shrine was locked, apparently not being in use. On our second visit, the shrine was packed with four people and their instruments and equipment. It was so compact that it left no room for another person to sit; however, it was pumping up the sober energy. In fact, I have no recollection of which musical instruments were being played inside the shrine. Nonetheless, it feels like that I was hearing the sharp and high banging of the kkwaenggwari (gong) accompanied by the janggu (hourglass drum) rhythm [symbolizing the sound of thunder and rain respectively]. The “musical” sound that I heard shook off the debris of ordinary thoughts and took me to the Other Side of Reality. I began to see things clearly the way they are. I was stepping into the history of this place that I was going to discover.
(Art) Mago by Lydia Ruyle

Mago of old Korea and East Asia, also known as Magu, Mako, Samsin Halmeoni (Triad Grandmother Goddess) and Cheonsin (Heavenly Deity), is the Great Goddess. Mago is the progenitor, creatrix, and ultimate sovereign. Early gynocentric cultures venerated Her in many forms. Her multivalent identities include an immortal, mendicant, crone, shaman, and/or nature-shaper of mountains, rocks, caves and seas. In art, Mago often carries a basket of lingzi mushrooms, medicinal herbs and flowers–all symbols of immortality. Source: Painting c. 1400 CE by Seokgyeong. Joseon Dynasty. Korea (Meet Mago Contributor) Lydia Ruyle.
(Essay 1) Magos, Muses, and Matrikas: The Magoist Cosmogony and Gynocentric Unity by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D.

[Author’s note: This paper is published in the journal, the Gukhak yeonguronchong 국학연구론총 (Issue 14, December 2014). Here it will appear in five sequels including the response by Dr. Glenys Livingstone.] Magos, Muses, and Matrikas: The Magoist Cosmogony and Gynocentric Unity[1] Abstract: This paper discusses the gynocentric principle in the Magoist cosmogony embodied in Cosmic Music and compares it with the traditions of Muses in ancient Greco-Roman culture and Matrikas in Hindu cultures. Methodologically, being the first research of its own kind, my study of Magoism takes a path led by the peculiarities of primary sources from Korea, China, and Japan. As a result, a feminist, transnational, multi-disciplinary, and comparative approach is employed to dis-cover otherwise irrelevant or isolated materials that include written texts, folktales, art, literary and place-names. The Magoist cosmogony characterized by Cosmic Music as ultimate creativity and Mago lineage of the first three generations known as Gurang (Nine Goddesses), the Mago Triad (Mgo and Her two daughters) and eight granddaughters strikes a strong resonance in Muses and Matrikas. In the latter two traditions, not only linguistic and numerical evidence but also the gynocentric (read female-centered) principle represented by parthenogenesis, matri-lineage, and cultural manifestations appear akin to the Magoist cosmogony. From the perspective of Magoism, such multifaceted unity is not surprising. Precisely, traditional Magoists self-proclaim as the memory-bearer of the original narrative of the Primordial Mother. Keywords: Mago, Mago Stronghold, Budoji, Parthenogenesis, Muse, Matrika, Goddess, Cosmic Music, Music of the Universe, Nine Goddesses, Triad, Matrilineal, Korean Goddess, Mago lineage, Greek Goddess, Indian Goddess, Hinduism
(Mago Essay 2) Toward the Primordial Knowing of Mago, the Great Goddess by Helen Hwang

Part 2 Gynocentric Study of Mago’s Visual Representations [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.] Mago [麻姑, also known as Magu or Mako] remains underrepresented if treated in modern scholarship. Little attention has been given to the topic of Magu in its own right. In the West a handful of scholars have mentioned Mago within the context of Daoism. Her transnational and trans-temporal manifestations in Korea, China, and Japan are largely unrecognized. That Magu is known as multiple identities throughout history in East Asia has gone unnoticed. In my study of Mago, that Mago’s supreme divinity as the Great Goddess has been rendered unintelligible over time under the rule of patriarchy offers a crucial insight leading to a befitting method. First of all, the perception of Her as the Great Goddess enables one to recognize a large volume of primary sources, otherwise left unattended, from across national, regional, temporal, and typological boundaries. Secondly, the primary materials in turn allow one to assess the supreme nature of the Great Goddess, Mago, apart from the theological framework of the monotheistic male god. By being a non-Western and non-patriarchal tradition, Magoism warrants a distinctive thealogy characterized by self-equilibrium and interdependence of components, part of which was discussed in Part I. Thirdly, a trans-disciplinary method is corollary in processing a variety of multi-genre materials that would not be neatly categorized in a mono-disciplinary data-pool. To say the least, it liberates itself from the tyranny of monolithic methodology, which dissects to take only a portion of data from the whole and treat it as if it is a single independent entity. In short, methodology and thealogy, being mutually supportive, lead the researcher to a rather unexplored conceptual territory, which I call gynocentrism. Gynocentrism takes the female principle as an operating system. Its system has been thwarted within the discourse of androcentric perspectives. Gynocentrism is a submerged mode of thinking in the patriarchically indoctrinated psyche. Made to be subliminal, the gynocentric mode of thinking elicits the Mago (Great Goddess) consciousness. Consequently, Mago consciousness upholds the infrastructures of gynocentric thinking. What distinguishes gynocentrism from feminism is that it redefines the male as a derivative of the Female. Gynocentrism reflects the principle of all mothers of living beings. In that sense, my study of Mago is a gynocentric endeavor to chart an alternative paradigm of doing thealogy within the context of East Asian history, mythology, and culture. It is a misunderstanding that Magoist thealogy or Magology (the study of the Great Goddess) concerns the divine only. Gynocentric thealogy is not locked into a separate domain apart from humanity, nature, and the universe. Put differently, Magology is not a mere conceptual tool that explains the divine. It summons gynocentric histories, myths, and cultures that are to be restored and rewritten. It calls for rethinking everything in a fresh light. In the sequels to follow, I bring to light a series of Mago’s visual representations expressed in paintings, ceramics, embroideries, woodprints, sculptures, and topographies, and examine Her multivalent identities in light of the large corpus of Magoist written and oral texts. Mago’s visual icons are beyond one’s documentation. They, especially those from China, are still a favored item in modern day’s auction markets. Several hundred images that I have documented are simply incomplete. Some sample images are chosen to show an array of historical/cultural/social productions, once honored and valued highly by many. Through the economy of commodification, these images have carried the cultural memory of the Great Goddess. While a number of her visual icons are undated, many are from the Yuan (1271 to 1368), Ming (1368 to 1644), and Qing (1644 to 1912) dynasties of China, the Joseon dynasty (1392-1910) of Korea, and certain historical periods of Japan. Also, many are from modern times. In them, Mago/Magu/Mako is depicted as: (1) An immortal/transcendant (仙 xian or seon, immortal or transcendant). (2) A mendicant. (3) A sea goddess. (4) A mountain goddess. (5) A crone. (6) The ancestor of shamans. And (7) A non-anthropomorphic identity or giantess as the nature-shaper or cosmogonist of local topographies such as mountains, rocks, caves, and seas. The notion of a giantess is employed to describe Her transcendental nature. In this case, Mago-named topographies alongside folk stories describe Her feature/identity of immeasurability. Needless to say, these identities overlap and merge, making up an overall picture of Mago as the Great Goddess. That is, She is each and all. These visual icons, stylized with symbolic objects, respectively demonstrate specific Magoist cultural memes once prevailing and favored among East Asians. A throng of objects such as medicinal herbs, especially lingzhi mushrooms, flowers, hoes, baskets, vessels, and animals, forms the coded syntaxes of the arcane language. In particular, a troupe of animals including deer, crane, dog, and monkey highlights the drama. Also, colophons carry not only the cultural meme but also prestige and authority for its producers and possessors. (To be continued.) [i] I have discussed this in detail in Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Seeking Mago, the Great Goddess: A Mytho-Historic-Thealogical Reconstruction of Magoism, an Archaically Originated Gynocentric Tradition of East Asia, Ph.D. dissertation (Claremont: Claremont Graduate University, 2005), 335-342; 353-361.