March 8, 2017April 30, 2023 Mago Work Admin

(Prose) Creativity by Shiloh Sophia

Do you tell yourself the lie that you are not creative? Read this.

All your bones are creative bones darlin’ ~ Sue Hoya Sellars

Creativity isn’t divided between creative and not creative.

Is not about talent or not talent.

We are all creative. We are all makers. We are creations ourselves and live in an inherently creative environment, aka you know, planet earth.

To say “I’m not creative” or that “I don’t have a creative bone in my body” is an illusion often fed to us by someone along the path who had no idea what they were talking about. A child would likely never say, “I’m not creative”. We learn ‘not creative’ by others comments and by self comparison. It is understood by the child that creativity is a natural state.

Let us return to our natural state of being creative, lit up by our senses, and turned on by how we see, feel, touch, sense, hear, experience and all the ways we interact with being.

It can take a lot of time to unlearn thinking of one’s self as not creative. It can take years especially if YOU aren’t creating – somehow creating itself helps change the old dominant story. Then once the fire is blazing no one can tell you again that you don’t have what it takes. Or that you don’t have talent. They may tell you but you won’t listen. You have everything you need and it isn’t about being GOOD or making something worthwhile or pretty. It’s just about you being an inventor of form. Pulling stardust across the veil, the event horizon looms as we bring ideas into matter. POW!

I don’t teach painting skills or how to become an artist. I am here to remind us of our instinctive, inherent, uninhibited capacity to be self expressed. Self expression opens a revolution in consciousness – gives one access to themselves. This is where a new kind of life can begin. Where before we were only partly awake and now we are seeing what there really is about who we could be being if we let ourselves out of our self imposed – not creative enough – cages. You aren’t a-type personality, you aren’t left brained, you aren’t the ‘intellect’ in the family. YOU – are a maker.

This is why I teach. I am part of the ones who wake the others. My path is creativity and you will hear our creations roar in beauty across the planet as we rise up from sleep and greet the day with paintbrushes, pens, drums and dancing feet ready to weave magic wherever we alight our sparks.

Meet Mago Contributor, Shiloh Sophia.

0 thoughts on “(Prose) Creativity by Shiloh Sophia”

Sara Wright says:

March 9, 2017 at 6:44 AM

Wonderful essay! you are right. Somewhere along the way we were told we couldn’t paint, write, something. I actually remember being at those crossroads as a five year old painter who didn’t meet her mother’s approval… I became a writer instead…. It’s so important to remind people that we are all Creative!!! Thank you.

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(Poem) Invocation to the Great Mother by April Aronoff

Inspired from within, I remember ancient wisdom. I. I am everything and nothing. I am the holder of space, its lushness and emptiness, flowing in and out like dye mixed with water, becoming singular and many, as dark mixes with light.
(Poem) Shrouded in the mist of long forgotten dreams by Arlene Bailey

As we move deeper into the dark inner time, with ancestors and ancient ideas and writings that slip through our consciousness, I can’t help but think about the beauty of cave walls and the ancient art and writing still found on them. Art and Writing, Arlene Bailey ©2022 https://www.magoism.net/2020/04/meet-mago-contributor-arlene-bailey/
(Essay) Hildegard of Bingen by Angelika Heike Rüdiger

On 17 September the Catholic Church commemorates Hildegard of Bingen (1098-1179) who was one of the outstanding women of the Middle Ages. She was a researcher in nature, healer, mystic, poet and composer. She was Jutta of Sponheim’s pupil and lived with the nun Jutta in closure next to the Benedictine abbey on the Disibodenberg. After Jutta’s death she became magistra, head of the enclosed women. In the years 1147-1150 Hildegard founded her own convent on the Rupertsberg near Bingen, later another one at Eibingen near Rüdesheim. Hildegard had visions since her childhood which came to her when she was awake. In one of those visions she was told by God to write down what she saw. Although she was of weak health, she travelled far to Cologne, Trier and to southern Germany. There she preached mainly about the willingness to do penance and to lead an upright life following Christ. Many persons of different social rank asked for her advice in personal communication or via correspondence A main theme in all her writings is certainly the importance of the wholeness and unity of all. All things are referring to each other and are related in God. O virtus sapientie* que circuiens circuisti, comprehendendo omnia in una via, que habet vitam tres alas habens, quarum una in altum volat et altera de terra sudat et tercia undique volat. laus tibi sit, sicut te decet, o sapientia. O power of Wisdom Who has surrounded surrounding All comprising In one way, which has life Having three wings, Of which one flies to the high And the other toils on earth And the third flies everywhere. Praise to you, As it is becoming, O wisdom. (*sapientia is a female noun in Latin) Her thoughts about the role of women were courageous and gave important impulses. Today her teachings about healing have become important again. Hildegard was already in her lifetime honoured like a saint. She was added to the Roman marytrologium, the list of the saints, and thus de facto canonized without an officially closed canonization process. Most recently she was entered into the list of saints by Pope Benedict XVI, thus extending her veneration to the whole church. Benedict XVI also declared her a Doctor of the church in October 2012.
(Essay 1) The Body – Essential or Not? by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an evolved version of an excerpt from Chapter 2 of her book PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion. All knowledge is an experience of body – what else can it be? Mind is body, body is mind. Humans know enough these days – including empirically – to end the dualistic notions of bodymind, to enter or perhaps re-enter in a new way, an integral comprehension of the bodymind we each are. In his book The Spell of the Sensuous David Abram affirms that Without this body … [could there be] … anything to speak about, or even to reflect on, or to think, since without any contact, any encounter, without any glimmer of sensory experience, there could be nothing to question or to know.[1] I ask then: what difference if this body menstruates, lactates, births – if these body processes were/are considered and sensed as the norm, that is, not as “different/other” as they so often have been in recent times of the human story? The “modern” woman – she of recent centuries – was held down by this difference, by the fact of her organic processes. The postmodern woman, convinced that the body can be “erased”, that its substantive presence can be dismissed,[2] may be expected to deny that it matters, that it affects her experience in any way. The organic processes of the female body, her “elemental capabilities”,[3] are not cultural inventions, though much cultural invention about woman’s physicality has occurred (for example, the cultural idea that she was unsuited for education). And cultural invention continues to occur – across the full spectrum of thinking (for example, the persistent cultural notion that menstruation is a disability, or that physically strong women are “masculine”). And whilst it is true “that everything in human experience, including nature and human physicality, … [is already an] … entity shaped into cultural perceptions”,[4] it is an error to deny any foundational experience. We are in deep relationship with our environment before we enter it – we are already shaped by environment as we form in the womb: “to be is to be related”.[5] We, like our primal forebears, breathe, drink water, excrete, feel. We do have a genetic code within each cell, that is a physical memory of origins … we are seeded with memory. This is especially true of the female body, whose ovum transmits the cytoplasm from one generation to the next.[6] The inability or unwillingness of a philosophical position to deal with a reciprocity between the being and environment – that the being itself has some innate foundational integrity, is a trait of the patriarchal mind in that it does not allow the materia any agency, sentience or autopoiesis. Scientific research is rampant with such minds. An example and typical of such a mind is that of Nobel award winning scientist Francis Crick,[7] who claimed that human joys and sorrows, memories and ambitions, sense of personality and free will “are in fact no more than the behavior of a vast assembly of nerve cells and their associated molecules”,[8] as if to assert that this “vast assembly of nerve cells and associated molecules” has no sentience. I am suspicious of texts that would “erase” the body, including “new age” spiritualities, as well as academia, and popular culture – texts that would deny physical sentience or difference, since in patriarchal cultures it is the female particularly that is associated with physical reality. Whose body is it then that is primarily being erased, that has been erased since the emergence of the patriarchal mind? (Yet artists have been obsessed with her body – as if trying to paint her back into the picture perhaps or at times to frame her there as object.) The early Greeks denied her inclusion in the “kosmos” because of her messy body.[9] In other cultures where her body had been the lap upon which rulers sat and thus gained their right to rule,[10] her body was gradually stylised into furniture – a throne, and then forgotten: her body became “part of the furniture”, utilitarian. And so, it still often is … as is the Mother Earth Herself. Female sacrality – the sacrality of the female body – has been “unnamed non-data in secular culture; peripheral sub-data in the phenomenology of religions”, and considered essentially “pagan” or unclean in Western religious culture.[11] All bodies exchange substances with the environment – the land – whether or not it is obvious to an etherealised and sanitised culture. Aboriginal cosmologies have never forgotten this exchange; as Heather McDonald describes in her book Blood, Bones and Spirit – a work on Aboriginal Christianity. The body of these cosmologies is an organic body which is consubstantial with, and permeable to, the living environment. It is composed of flesh and blood, bones and spirit, and is subject to the organic processes of fecundity, growth and decay.[12] And the exchange of bodily fluids with land is valued and significant – a participation in the very flow of life, and relationship with “the ancestors”.[13] Australian writer David Tacey points out that the spirituality that arises from the land in Australia, carried in the themes of its poets, and known by its indigenous inhabitants, is one that is profoundly continuous with the body.[14] It is likely that when humans really remember the body, all bodies – this relational dynamic, this materia, in which we are – they will remember the female body, and once again will have to deal with a foundational cyclical experience of life – which includes birth and death.[15] How we story that experience is really very open, but it will be a recognition of the web of life into which we are woven, as well as being weavers. Life – birth and death – does not seem like much of a “foundational cyclical experience” to most people. It seems more like a one way trip – linear, birth to death. But that depends on your perspective … if you take …
(Pandemic Poem 7) The Simpler Ways by Jyoti Wind

Trees, CO. Photo by Jyoti Wind I bake bread. I work with my clients, grateful to have them. I pray for the world and the suffering. I chop wood and carry water. I try to meet the day as it dawns for me. I have my list and I have my breath, and I try to let neither take over the other. I’m remembering the simpler ways I lived raising young kids years ago. One foot, one breath, one act, one prayer. Slowing to Nature’s speed and to what works for me. This is the ideal. I’m learning. https://www.magoism.net/2020/08/meet-mago-contributor-jyoti-wind/
(Essay 1) Circe the Island Witch by Hearth Moon Rising

Circe painting by Beatrice Offer, 1911 The demigoddess Circe is a recurrent character in Greek mythology. She is portrayed as a strong and independent woman with powerful magic, and she remains a favorite subject in art and literature. In this series of articles I will explore Circe as she appears in Greek mythology, trace her origins as a nature goddess, and discuss a real woman of the Circe archetype in later history. Circe (pronounced SIR-see in English, probably KER-key in ancient Greek) begins life as the daughter of the solar deity Helios and the Cretan Queen Pasiphae. Helios is not the sun, exactly, but the conductor of the chariot that pulls the sun across the sky. Pasiphae is the Minoan queen who births the Minotaur, half-man and half-bull. In some accounts Pasiphae is Circe’s sister while her mother is Perseis, a minor sea goddess. Circe marries a prince of Colchis, a city-state on the Black Sea in present-day Georgia. She kills her husband so she can rule alone, but is run off for her crime. A special cemetary is named for her, where the corpses of male heros are placed in willow trees to be picked by scavenger-birds. After fleeing from accountability for her crime, Circe takes refuge on the island of Aeaea, which Robert Graves places in the Adriatic Sea near Croatia. According to Graves, Aeaea means “wailing.” The island is surrounded by Alder trees, associated with healing, divination, and the death realm, since the tree “bleeds” bright red when cut. Circe’s knowledge of herbal potions is unparalleled, and she gives a root decoction to the maiden Procris to prevent King Minos of Crete from “filling her with reptiles and insects.” Circe teaches her magical arts to her neice Medea, who becomes another powerful witch. She (reluctantly) uses her magic to purify Medea, Jason, and the other Argonauts after their exploits in pursuit of the Golden Fleece. Circe poisoning Scylla. 1892 painting by John Waterhouse. Circe is known as much for her lust as for her magical acumen. Refusing her love carries a price. She turns the Latin king Picus into a woodpecker for spurning her. Turning men into animals is a favorite pastime of Circe – more on that later. The merman Glaucus approaches Circe for a potion that will make the beautiful sea-nymph Scylla love him. Glaucus became a merman through his own proficiency with herbal magic. He discovered a plant that would heal fish, and Poseidon made him half-fish so he could persue a career underwater as a fish doctor. Unfortunately for Glaucus and for Scylla, Circe decides she wants Glaucus for herself. She pours poison herbs in the tidal pool where Scylla swims, turning Scylla into a horrible monster. Scylla remains lovely from the waist up, but her lower half contains multiple heads of dogs and horses. Filled with self-loathing for her physical appearance, and unable to escape the tidal pool, Scylla begins eating sailors. In this way Circe neutralizes a rival, but she does not succeed in winning the love of Glaucus. Who could have predicted… Despite failing to foresee how that episode would play out, Circe is a talented soothsayer. Odysseus survives his voyage only because of a fortuitous encounter with this powerful witch. This is the most famous and detailed myth involving Circe, and deserves an article of its own. To be continued… Circe, 5th century BCE, Greek Pottery by Marsyas https://www.magoism.net/2013/04/meet-mago-contributor-hearth-moon-rising/
(Poem & Prose) what you say to me by Susan Hawthorne

what you say to me the muscles on your flanks ripple like quicksilver the play of your mouth is a die thrown six times it flips into the endless sky a mirror of your soul you say you want discipline you want to play between the lines of the strictest form instead you dance in circles an ancient acolyte a mystery of Eleusinian proportion if you tell you die half way through / you change your mind walk straight ahead / follow an invisible line of sight in front of you nothingness behind the land unfolds into existence at each step when your hoof touches the ground it grows reaches out and away from your red painted hooves ringing with the sound of your ankle bells you are that old gesture the one only initiates know you are a mandala a body in endless circling motion This poem is from my poetry collection Cow (2011) which was written while I was on a four-month residency in Chennai in 2009. This poem brings together mythic elements from India (the cow motif), Greece (the Eleusinian mysteries), Indigenous Australia (the land created as she walks). Of all the poetry books I have written, this was the most fun. In part, because the cow character, Queenie, grew and grew: she encompassed Milky Way as well as the subatomic zone; she laughed and made jokes; she fell in love over and over. She also showed herself a capable philosopher and linguist. I also discovered that many northern hemisphere traditions include cows, from Islam to the Celtic world; from India to Greece and many places between. One of the challenges of India is seeing cows with enormous horns. When I was nine I was bunted by the house cow. It took me quite a few years to enter a paddock with cows. The picture above is clearly a cow. I am reminded too, that wild sheep have large horns, so when reading myths which include horned animals you simply cannot assume they are male. The other great thing about cows, is that the feminine form – cow – is the default. Listen to people speak, unless they are farmers who refer to the animals as cattle, most speakers of English use the word cow as a general referent. The bull is restricted to referencing a male animal. Children learn the word cow long ahead of bull. You can find my book here: http://www.spinifexpress.com.au/Bookstore/book/id=215/ © Susan Hawthorne, 2020 (Meet Mago Contributor) Susan Hawthorne.
(Essay 2) Reinvigorating Concepts of Attachment Through a Matriversal and Indigenous Lens by Stephanie Mines, Ph.D.

[Editor’s Note: This piece was presented during the first and inaugural S/HE Divine Studies Forum held on September 7th, 2024.] Stephanie Mines in New Zealand Turning Concepts of Attachment on Their Head I have been in the service of people recovering from, healing from, and transcending trauma for over four decades. When I reflect on the broad swath of this experience, I realize how misled all of us were to think that there was something wrong with us. There never was anything wrong with us. There was something terribly wrong with the systems that defined and labeled us. Let me explain more about this revolution in understanding attachment and bonding and why it is surfacing now, at the virtual end of time. When I look at attachment somatically and through the lens of the human nervous system, I recognize that I was actively in a state of belonging and rooted connection for prolonged periods of time, for instance, when I was reading, writing or star-gazing. During these periods I was connected to a source that flowed through me and accompanied me. Before I could read or write, I was deeply bonded via my creativity and specifically my inner storytelling capacities, which were prolific, to the spirit world. These forms of attachment were not validated or even recognized by the world around me. They still are not. As a result, I kept these experiences quiet, and within. This is a way in which my experience parallels that of indigenous people like Maata, who were rebuked for articulating their own language, except now we are determined to no longer hide or be silent. That I found anchoring and connection is entirely to my credit. From a Māori worldview, it was probably also due to the ancestors in the unseen world who were backing me up and leading me to where the nutrients were. It is to them that I likely owe my life. Can you see how Te Ao Māori, the Māori worldview, and particularly the standard bearing of women like Kuia Maata Wharehoka, is leadership for a world in crisis, a world that needs an indigenous and a matriversal perspective? © Ellen Giggenbach Language Reclamation From the moment that I began to write, which started around 7 or 8 years old, I was reclaiming my language. Language is identity. My true identity is in the language of my writing. It is a poetic dialect, like Te Reo Māori. I continue to be dedicated to reclaiming my own language. This is a continuum. For decades, Māori were punished for speaking their own language, Te Reo. It is an exquisite, metaphoric and flexible language. As a people who learned and shared knowledge through oral transmission, the theft of their language was excruciating. Only now is Te Reo being fully recovered, but still those who were punished for speaking it, reel from the consequences of being beaten, often severely. Something similar is true for me, and I believe it is also true for many others, mostly women. The language of our Original Brilliance has been stolen from us and we must reclaim it. This will root our secure attachment to what is real and help us recover from decades of living in shock from the theft of our heart and soul language. This is also what is happening for Māori and others who reclaim their language. It is liberating to see the ways in which the matriversal perspective parallels an indigenous worldview. Even as we face the end of time, and the dissolution of the extractive, culturally insensitive institutions that are articulated in man speak, we can still claim our true bonds and attach to what is real and speak in the tongues of Original Brilliance. This language is simple and immediately understandable. It defies the ridicule of modernity and pundit talk. It is free of fad phrases. It is free of attempts to sell and convince. As I liberate myself from false conceptualizations of bonding and attachment, I simultaneously liberate myself to speak a language that I claim as my own. The fear of uttering unacceptable or questionable phrases evaporates. I am all about craft and refinement of expression, but through the prism of my language group, the language group of those securely bonded with the living earth and the unseen worlds, the language of the matriverse.(To be Continued) https://www.magoism.net/2024/08/meet-mago-contributor-stephanie-mines-ph-d/
(Tribute 6) Barbara Mor, “Relentless Love”: Letters 1988-2002 from a Writer’s Best Friend by Jack Dempsey

And now, in grief approaching the end of my surviving collection of Barbara’s letters, I come to a gap of almost five years between 1997 above and the next below dated January 5th, 2002. What happened, and why does this collection end (March 2002) long before Barbara’s end? I know she and I were still in contact through that time, and I remember more exchanges after it—right through her last years’ works (copies of which she always shared) including Rad Victorian Radio (2000), Rapture and Sea of Hunger (written in 2001), Suicidal Girls (2002), Text/Context (2004), Oasis 1, 2 and 3 (2005, 2008, 2009), Hypatia (2007), The Blue Rental (first appearing in 2010), The Inquisitor, Theater of Cruelty, the works on her Blogspot web-page, About Writing About (2012), and her final The Victory of Sex and Metal (2014). This was more than what Barbara had called, above, people’s being something like “bumper cars” colliding and falling out of touch. In a sentence, we’d begun to go our separate but connected/parallel ways as serious writers. I want to show what happened to each and both of us. Most of all, I say first, in plain shame, that I now consider the intolerance, impatience, career-frustration and thoughtless haste by which I must have discarded Barbara’s late letters an inexcusable failure and a genuine crime against Letters and civilization. Period. Barbara never stopped evolving in the struggle to face, manifest and master what she’d called (above) the utter meltdown of language; striving to fulfill what her favorite editor Clayton Eshleman (in his Intro to the last edition of Sulfur) said what poetry “is really about: the extending of human consciousness, making conscious the unconscious, creating a symbolic consciousness that in its finest moments overcomes the dualities in which the human world is cruelly and eternally, it seems, enmeshed.” Drawing here upon Barbara’s own phrases above, her “genre” of “FemPolemoPoeticks,” as she kept evolving it, was “not supposed to be pretty.” But it was leading her down a path toward becoming in her own words “indigestible,” “unreadable.” In the face of her daily realities, she had decided that those were the convictions worth her courage, arriving at a place where (March 13th, 2002 below) “only males, generally Brits, or total anarchists…print me”—yet, half-believing that “one hundred years from now, that will be considered a compliment (?).” “I have the impression there is not much hope in my writing, except that Wit is a gesture of belief in something…whatever that might be.” And look, in Suicidal Girls (2002), at these hints of Barbara’s conditions through her last 15 years. After all, when artistic dedication consigns you to living hand-to-mouth, you find yourself trying to survive one brain-searing shit-hole after another, in this Wreck-of-the-Hesperus asylum-on-fire called the present American landscape, teeming with self-destructive faux-rebels dying of ignorance: scream in my walls 4sex in a 4plex their boys are crazy nightspliced wires dance&fightdance&fight bellybutton pliers glow in the dark live here numb in rental skull bang bang bang they move in redone stucco studio used to be a garage cars lived there leaked oil on the rug wall to wall rust atmosphere end of the world plus heat theyre not neat decorate w/fists purplebluegreenpink hair tattoos noserings amplifers huge ashtrays of noise on bad days it costs too much to live here we’re on a one way street wheels roll west 24/7 nothing stops no rest don’t mess w/our trucks… white&black scared persian kitty hides under porch as party rages at dawn new strange girl passed out on asphalt… 400 years but nothing changes a continent they came to pillage&pray… how did they cross the ocean how do i cross the street daily life… …who cooks anyway it takes too long i like things in cans and plastic packets… …they don’t eat they die in the street in fever chewing grass delirious like the Irish history repeats if you let it or forget humans not doomed by Nature but by DumbIdeas im starting to like these loud girls when they scream in the daytime it must be serious Barbara had counseled me to “get your valuable material across the river of ebullient words,” for “you are also writing to now, and that too is an obligation.” Hence, I had made one choice about our “obligations” and “writing to now,” and Barbara made another. While Barbara looked unblinking and “estranged” her own language in the face of what Acker called “the HORROR experienced in daily life,” I had angered Barbara in telling her that I’d walked out of a live Acker reading at Brown. For it seemed to me that Acker—too brilliant not to know—was working her pain and, while replicating (for example) the experience of rape for her enthralled Po-Mo-Privileged-hip Brown audience, in the end was inflicting yet more of its benumbed aftermath upon them—while Barbara, at times (for example in Hypatia, quoted below) could still also see and register not a “redeeming,” but at least a balancing, whole and still-enabling sense of life’s surviving and worthwhile—yes—beauty. This you can see even in those “loud girls” she smiled upon above; but as I saw it (incompletely) years ago, it seemed her style had turned its back on hope of reaching her world’s larger, soul-imprisoned audience of “now.” Disgusted with my own fortunes, I turned away from examples that promised more of same. Today, I think Barbara’s choice was her wisest gesture of hope—the hope that her uncompromising life’s and art’s examples against “DumbIdeas” might invite that audience to spit them out also, to rise back toward true living and true culture. Look for example into Hypatia (2007). Multi-dimensions of being interweave, speak and generate revelation, as a contemporary woman remembers earlier lives (Barbara’s life-project)—filled with horrors, and then suddenly becoming a vision of Life in the purest sense. I am convinced that this passage draws on one of young Barbara’s most ecstatic life-epiphanies. Too dense, too “difficult”? Just read this slowly out loud, and see where Barbara takes you: mid20th c. we went surf-fishing below Pt Dume Malibu not yet Dawn we drank red wine as dark erased,erase March fog,chill i caught the first fish,another then as light,warmth came i went to climb …

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

The contribution of my writing to Return to Mago E-Magazine has evolved since it began four years ago, into a deeply mutually enhancing relationship. The time and effort taken to write carefully and in alignment with my heartfelt passions and insights, and then to be able to publish to a receptive audience, has always been rewarding – for me personally and apparently for many who received it.
(Review) Journey into Dreamtime by Munya Andrews, reviewed by Glenys Livingstone

Although the term “Dreamtime” is often not considered an adequate translation of the cosmology, religion or spirituality of Indigenous Australians, Munya Andrews of the Bardi people from the Kimberley region of Western Australia, acknowledges this and chooses to name her recently published book with it, explaining that: “I love the term … For me, it conjures up a magical and mysterious world.”, and she feels that the term aligns perfectly with the common global religious concept that Diety is beyond words and human understanding. For me, as Munya Andrews describes “Dreamtime”, it seems resonant with the sense of “ever-present Origins”[1]; that is, original space and time that is omnipresent. This is a space/place that I understand to be referred to as “between the worlds” and “beyond the bounds of space and time”, by Indigenous Europeans (Pagans), a tradition with which I am familiar. I understand it to be a sentient world in which we are immersed actually, and which may be revealed to the observant person in synchronous moments. With practice one may live with clearer everyday connections with this world, and Munya’s book is an important contribution to making those connections from within the cosmology of her people; and for “all beautiful souls to keep the Dreamtime alive”, as she says in the book’s dedication. This book provides informative story that should be part of every Australian’s education at various levels: it lays a groundwork and also elicits deepening understandings. The teachings offered in Journey into Dreamtime should be considered essential knowledge for living on this land named Australia, whereas heretofore most present occupants have often not had easy access to such learning. This very readable and small book provides some basic facts: for example, that there are “250 or so Indigenous nations, each having their own language, their own names and ‘country’ or tribal lands.”; and that terms such as Koori, Nunga or Murri are “pan-Aboriginal” names taken on since colonisation, for the sake of asserting a distinct Indigenous identity, in the face of forced removal from families and land. In the course of the seven chapters Munya develops understanding of Dreamtime, and also understandings of Indigenous Law, Songlines, sacred sites, bush doctors/bush medicine, Rainbow Snake, and Kindredness. I found all of this really helpful, an invitation into a world of being and relationship; and it is told with frequent analogies from Western science and academic and spiritual texts, with which the reader may be more familiar, enabling the bridge into Indigenous science and worldview. There is a list of suggested readings offered, along with links and details for further connection and learning. At the conclusion of each chapter of Journey into Dreamtime there are “Dreamtime Reflections”, posing questions for personal consideration, inviting personal participation and pathways into some actual sense of an alive self in relationship with the alive world described. This book needs to be in spaces/places where everyday people can read it, like waiting rooms of all kinds (where there are frequently Bibles); as well as in every library, and especially Australian libraries. I highly recommend Journey into Dreamtime as an educational resource, for your self, for educational programs, and/or for any group that you may gather. Aunty Munya, as she names herself, has an impressive track record of speaking engagements, mentioned at the conclusion of the book, and invites you to have her speak to your organisation. She describes her life purpose as “to create better understanding and appreciation of Aboriginal people and to leave behind a legacy of Dreamtime wisdom for generations to come.” May it be so, as readers of Journey into Dreamtime absorb its teaching and resources. To order a copy of Journey into Dreamtime visit Evolve Communities NOTES: [1]“ever-present origin” is the English translation of Jean Gebser’s Ursprung und Gegenwart, Stuttgart, Deutsche Verlag, 1966.
(Special Post 4) Why Goddess Feminism, Activism, or Spirituality? A Collective Writing

[Editor’s Note: This was first proposed in The Mago Circle, Facebook Group, on March 6, 2014. We have our voices together below and publish them in sequels. It is an ongoing project and we encourage our reader to join us! Submit yours today to Helen Hwang (magoism@gmail.com). Or visit and contact someone in Return to Mago’s Partner Organizations.] Yvonne Lucia: “Feminism is the radical notion that women are people.” -British suffragist and journalist Rebecca West “When the God is male, the male is God.” -Mary Daly Yvonne Lucia sacredartportal.com Lila Moore: My first piece of performance art was a ritual inspired by Isis. However, as a young artist, my interest in combining art and ritual was devalued by my teachers and critics alike. I felt isolated and persecuted. Only after relocating to London was I able to gradually understand that my personal and creative aspiration was integral part of a collective and global feminine and feminist awakening. I realised that personal experiences of women have political perspectives, and that being a contemporary woman artist positions me in the midst of historical and cultural enterprise. As an artist-film-maker and scholar, I have regarded my work as a spiritual quest, exploring through dance-ritual and art films the interaction of the body and psyche with the natural environment and technology. In the 21st century, my interest in the healing and transforming aspects of images on screen has been combined with a growing sense of activism. It seems inconceivable to take images of nature out of context by ignoring the ecological holocaust which is evident everywhere. I have felt compelled to ask whether the needs of the body and mind can be separated from the needs of the Earth?

(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
(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.
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 …
(Book Excerpt) Held in the Womb of the Wheel of the Year by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an excerpt from the Introduction of the author’s new book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. Meditation cushion in circle of decorated stones My ancestors built great circles of stones that represented their perception of real time and space, and enabled them to tell time: the stone circles were cosmic calendars.[i] They went to great lengths and detail to get it right. It was obviously very important to them to have the stones of a particular kind, in the right positions according to position of the Sun at different times of the year, and then to celebrate ceremony within it. I have for decades had a much smaller circle of stones assembled. I have regarded this small circle of stones as a medicine wheel. It is a portable collection, that I can spread out in my living space, or let sit in a small circle on an altar, with a candle/candles in the middle. Each stone (or objects, as some are) represents a particular Seasonal Moment/transition and is placed in the corresponding direction. The small circle of eight stones represents the flow of the Solstices and Equinoxes and the cross-quarter Moments in between: that is, it represents the “Wheel of the Year” as it is commonly known in Pagan traditions. I have found this assembled circle to have been an important presence. It makes the year, my everyday sacred journey of Earth around Sun, tangible and visible as a circle, and has been a method of changing my mind, as I am placed in real space and time. My stone wheel has been a method of bringing me home to my indigenous sense of being. Each stone/object of my small wheel may be understood to represent a “moment of grace,” as Thomas Berry named the seasonal transitions – each is a threshold to the Centre, wherein I may now sit: I sense it as a powerful point. As I sit on the floor in the centre of my small circle of stones, I reflect on its significance as I have come to know the Seasonal transitions that it marks, over decades of celebrating them. I sense the aesthetics and poetry of each. I facilitated and was part of the celebration and contemplation of these Moments in my region for decades. It was always an open group that gathered, and so its participants changed over the years but it remained in form, like a live body which it was: a ceremonial body that conversed with the sacred Cosmos in my place. We spoke a year-long story and poetry of never-ending renewal – of the unfolding self, Earth and Cosmos. We danced and chanted our relationship with the Mother, opened ourselves to Her Creativity, and conversed with Her by this method. All participants in their own way within these ceremonies made meaning of their lives – which is what I understand relationship to be, in this context of Earth and Sun, our Place and Home in the Cosmos: that is, existence is innately meaningful when a being knows Who one is and Where one is. Barbara Walker notes that religions based on the Mother are free of the “neurotic” quest for indefinable meaning in life as such religions “never assumed that life would be required to justify itself.”[ii] I face the North stone, which in my hemisphere is where I place the Summer Solstice. From behind me and to my right is the light part of the cycle – representing manifest form, all that we see and touch. From behind me and to my left is the dark part of the cycle – representing the manifesting, the reality beneath the visible, which includes the non-visible. The Centre wherein I sit, represents the present. The wheel of stones has offered to me a way of experiencing the present as “presence,” as it recalls in an instant that, That which has been and that which is to come are not elsewhere – they are not autonomous dimensions independent of the encompassing present in which we dwell. They are, rather, the very depths of this living place – the hidden depth of its distances and the concealed depth on which we stand.[iii] This wheel of stones, which captures the Wheel of the Year in essence, locates me in the deep present, wherein the past and the future are contained – both always gestating in the dark, through the gateways. And all this has been continually enacted and expressed in the ceremonies of the Wheel of the Year, as the open, yet formal group has done them, mostly in the place of Blue Mountains, Australia. PaGaian Cosmology altar/mandala: a “Womb of Gaia” map Over the years of practice of ritually celebrating these eight Seasonal Moments – Earth’s whole annual journey around Sun, I have been held in this creative story, this Story of Creativity as it may be written – it is a sacred story. Her pattern of Creativity can be identified at all levels of reality – manifesting in seasonal cycles, moon cycles, body cycles – and to be aligned with it aligns a person’s core with the Creative Mother Universe. I have identified the placing of one’s self within this wheel through ceremonial practice of the whole year of creativity, as the placing of one’s self in Her Womb – Gaia’s Womb, a Place of Creativity. All that is necessary for Creativity is present in this Place. All may come forth from here/Here – and so it does, and so it has, and so it will. NOTES: [i] See Martin Brennan, The Stones of Time: Calendars, Sundials, and Stone Chambers of Ancient Ireland (Rochester Vermont, Inner Traditions, 1994). [ii] Barbara Walker, The Woman’s Encyclopaedia of Myths and Secrets (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1983), 693. [iii] David Abram, The Spell of the Sensuous (New York: Vintage Books, 1997), 216. REFERENCES: Abram, David. The Spell of the Sensuous. New York: Vintage Books, 1997. Brennan, Martin. The Stones of Time: Calendars, Sundials, and Stone Chambers of Ancient Ireland.Rochester Vermont: Inner Traditions, 1994. Walker, Barbara. The Woman’s Encyclopaedia of Myths and Secrets. San Francisco: …
(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
The Ceremonial Creative Cosmos by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an excerpt from Chapter 3 of the author’s new book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. The Cosmos is a ceremony, a ritual. Dawn and dusk, seasons, supernovas – it is an ongoing Event of coming into being and passing away. The Cosmos is always in flux, and we exist as participants in this great ritual event, this “cosmic ceremony of seasonal and diurnal rhythms” which frame “epochal dramas of becoming,” as Charlene Spretnak describes it.[i] Swimme and Berry describe the universe as a dramatic reality, a Great Conversation of announcement and response.[ii]Ritual/ceremony[iii] may be the human conscious response to the announcements of the Universe – an act of conscious participation. Ceremony then may be understood as a microcosmos[iv] – a human-sized replication of the Drama, the Dynamic we find ourselves in. Swimme and Berry describe ritual as an ancient response humans have to the awesome experience of witnessing the coming to be and the passing away of things; they say that a “ritual mode of expression” is from its beginning “the manner in which humans respond to the universe, just as birds respond by flying or as fish respond by swimming.”[v] It is the way in which we as humans, as a species, may respond to this awesome experience of being and becoming, how we may hold the beauty and the terror. Humans have exhibited this tendency to ritualize since the earliest times of our unfolding: evidence so far reveals burial sites dating back one hundred thousand years, as mentioned in the previous chapter. We often went to huge effort in these matters, that is almost incomprehensible to the modern industrialised econocentric mind: the precise placing of huge stones in circles such as found at Stonehenge and the creation of complex sites such as Silbury Hill may be expressions of some priority, indicating that econocentric thinking – such as tool making, finding shelter and food, was not enough or not separate from the participation in Cosmic events. Ritual seems to have expressed, and still does actively express for some peoples, something essential to the human – a way of being integral with our Cosmic Place, which was not perceived as separate from material sustenance, the Source of existence: thus it was a way perhaps of sensing “meaning” as it might be termed these days – or “relationship.” Swimme and Berry note that the order of the Universe has been experienced especially in the seasonal sequence of dissolution and renewal; this most basic pattern has been an ultimate referent for existence.[vi] The seasonal pattern contains within it the most basic dynamics of the Cosmos – desire, fullfilment, loss, transformation, creation, growth, and more. The annual ceremonial celebration of the seasonal wheel – the Earth-Sun sacred site within which we tour – can be a pathway to the Centre of these dynamics, a way of making sense of the pattern, a way of sensing it. One enters the Universe’s story. The Seasonal Moments when marked and celebrated in the art form of ceremony may be sens-ible ‘gateways’ through the flesh of the world[vii] to the Centre – which is omnipresent Creativity. Humans do ritual everyday – we really can’t help ourselves. It is simply a question of what rituals we do, what story we are telling ourselves, what we are “spelling”[viii] ourselves with – individually and collectively. Ceremony is actually ‘doing,’ not just theorizing. We can talk about our personal and cultural disconnection endlessly, but we need to actually change our minds. Ceremony can be an enabling practice – a catalyst/practice for personal and cultural change. It is not just talking about eating the pear, it is eating the pear; it is not just talking about sitting on the cushion (meditating), it is sittingon the cushion. It is a cultural practice wherein we tell a story/stories about what we believe to be so most deeply, about who and what we are. Ceremony can be a place for practicing a new language, a new way of speaking, or spelling – a place for practicing “matristic storytelling”[ix] if you like: that is, for telling stories of the Mother, of Earth and Cosmos as if She were alive and sentient. We can “play like we know it,” so that we may come to know it.[x] Ceremony then is a form of social action. NOTES: [i] Spretnak, States of Grace, 145. [ii] Swimme and Berry, The Universe Story, 153. [iii] I will use either or both of these terms at different times: I generally prefer “ceremony” as Kathy Jones defines it in Priestess of Avalon, Priestess of the Goddess, 319. She says that ritual involves a repeated set of actions which may contain spiritual or “mundane” elements (such as a daily ritual of brushing one’s teeth), “whereas ceremony is always a spiritual practice and may or may not include ritual elements.” The PaGaian seasonal celebrations/events are thus most kin to “ceremony,” although I do not perceive any action as “mundane.” However, “ritual” is more commonly used to speak of how humans have conversed with cosmos/Earth. [iv] Spretnak, States of Grace, 145. [v] Swimme and Berry, The Universe Story, 152-153. [vi] Ibid. [vii] Abram speaks of “matter as flesh” in The Spell of the Sensuous, 66, citing Maurice Merleau-Ponty, The Invisible and the Invisible (Evanston, Illinois: Northwestern University Press, 1968). [viii] Starhawk used this term on her email list in 2004 to describe the story-telling we might do to bring forth the changes we desire. [ix] A term used by Gloria Feman Orenstein in The Reflowering of the Goddess (New York: Pergamon Press, 1990), 147. [x] As my doctoral thesis supervisor Dr. Susan Murphy once described it to me in conversation REFERENCES: Abram, David. The Spell of the Sensuous. New York: Vintage Books, 1997. Jones, Kathy. Priestess of Avalon, Priestess of the Goddess. Glastonbury: Ariadne Publications, 2006. Orenstein, Gloria Feman. The Reflowering of the Goddess. New York: Pergamon Press, 1990. Spretnak, Charlene. States of Grace: The Recovery of Meaning in the Postmodern Age. San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1993. Swimme, Brian and Berry, Thomas. The Universe Story: From the Primordial Flaring Forth to the Ecozoic Era. New York: HarperCollins, 1992.

(Mago Almanac Planner Year 5 Excerpt 3) 13 Month 28 Day Magoist Calendar by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

[Author’s Note: This and its sequences are a newly added portion in the Mago Almanac Planner Year 5, equivalent to the Gregorian Year 2022. Because the Budoji did not explain further about time units smaller than 1 day, I did not follow through some possible implications in previous Mago Almanac volumes. Next year’s Mago Almanac Planner for Personal Journey: 13 Month 28 Day Calendar Year 5 or 5919 MAGOMA ERA is forthcoming in Mago Bookstore (October 25, 2021). PDF version is available for purchase.] We set the new moon day of the Winter Solstice month in 2017 as the New Year of Year 1. With that, we are able to tap Magoist days into Gregorian days that we moderns use. Then, how do we bring down a Magoist time in the scheme of the Gregorian time? How do we determine the onset of New Year in the Magoist Calendar? When would be the midnight of New Year in Year 1? That requires a translation of Mago time into Gregorian time. We can designate midnight as a midpoint in time equidistant from the sunset of New Year’s Eve to the sunrise of New Year. As local times vary around the globe, the midnight of New Year varies in states and cities. In Los Angeles, California USA, the first Magoist midnight falls on 23:29 on December 17, 2017 for Year 1. That would be 07:29 on December 18, 2017 in UTC. Year 1Year 2Year 3Year 4Midnight12/17/2017 23:2912/17/2018 23:2912/17/2019 23:2912/16/2020 23:30Sunset16:45, 12/1716:45, 12/1716:45, 12/1716:44, 12/16Sunrise6:53, 12/186:53, 12/18 6:53, 12/186:53, 12/17 (Sunset and sunrise times in Los Angeles, USA) The below table shows the first Magoist midnight (around 0.33 AM) falls on December 18, 2017 in Gyeongju, South Korea. That would be 15:33 on December 17, 2017 in UTC. Year 1Year 2Year 3Year 4Midnight12/18/2017 0:33.512/18/2018 0:32.512/18/2019 0:32.512/17/2020 0:32.5Sunset17:11, 12/1717:11, 12/1717:11, 12/1717:11, 12/16Sunrise7:28, 12/187:27, 12/18 7:27, 12/187:27, 12/17 (Sunset and sunrise times in Gyeongju, South Korea) We can imagine a spiral progression of years from Little Calendar (one year) to Medium Calendar (two years) and to Large Calendar (four years). Every year has one leap day, whereas every fourth year has another leap day in the middle of the year. Cyclic time, as it progresses, creates rhythm and harmony in the human world. Little Calendar (1 year)13×1=13 months364 days+1 leap day=365 daysMedium Calendar (2 years)13×2=26 months2x(364 days+1 leap day) =730 daysLarge Calendar (4 years)13×4=52 months4x(364 days+1 leap day)+1 leap day=1,461 days (End of the series) https://www.magoacademy.org/virtual-midnight-vigil-to-new-year/ https://www.magoism.net/2013/07/meet-mago-contributor-helen-hwang/
(Essay 1) Magoist Cetaceanism and the Myth of the Pacifying Flute (Manpasikjeok) by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D.

Pod of narwhals, northern Canada, August 2005. Image courtesy of Kristin Laidre. Wikemedia Commons Manpasikjeok (the pacifying flute that defeats all) is a legendary flute, purportedly made from a narwhal’s tusk, originating in the 7th century Silla (57 BCE-935 CE). King Sinmun (r. 681-692) had a revelation concerning “a bamboo tree” growing on a mysterious mountain floating in the Sea of Whales, today’s East Sea of Korea. From this tree, a flute was made with which he was able to protect the whole world. As a national treasure of Silla, this instrument was famed to defeat all enemies at the time of troubles. What we have is the accounts of the pacifying flute recounted in Korea’s official historical texts. Two sources from the Samguk Sagi (Historical Records of the Three States) and the Samguk Yusa (Memorabilia of the Three States) shall be examined. Not surprisingly, whales are made unrecognizable not only within the story but also in the official history books of Korea. Magoist Cetaceanism was subjected to erasure in the course of Korean official history, but apparently not in the time of King Sinmun of Silla. The myth of Manpasikjeok testifies to Sillan Magoist Cetaceanism upheld by 7th century Sillan rulers. We are reading a Magoist Cetacean myth, however, told by people of a later time when Magoist Cetaceanism was no longer recognized. The fact that these two official historical texts of Korea recount the narrative of Manpasikjeok speaks to its significance: The story is told with a sense of mystery or suspicion. While the Samguk Sagi overtly treats the author’s sense of disbelief, the Samguk Yusa provides a full narrative in tantalizing but mystified details. How was Manpasikjeok 萬波息笛 created in the first place? Below is the Samguk Sagi version of the story: According to Gogi (Ancient Records), “During the reign of King Sinmun, a little mountain emerged in the East Sea out of nowhere. It looked like a head of a turtle. Atop the mountain there was a bamboo tree growing, which became two during the day and became one at night. The king had his subject cut the bamboo tree and had it made a flute. He named it Manpasik (Pacifying and Defeating All).” Although it is written so, its account is weird and unreliable.[1] Written by Gim Busik (1075–1151), a Neo-Confucian historiographer, the above account betrays an unengaged author’s mind in the story. For Gim, Korean indigenous narratives like Manpasikjeok are anomalous, if not unreliable, by the norms of Chinese history. In contrast to the former, the Samguk Yusa details the Manpasikjeok story in a tantalizing sense of mystery. Its author Ilyeon (1206-1289) was a Buddhist monk, a religious historian who saw the history of Korea as fundamentally Buddhist from the beginning. He elaborates the story with factual data but fails to bring to surface the cetacean underpinning of the myth. It is possible that Magoist Cetaceanism had already submerged much earlier than his time. King Sinmun (r. 681-692) had built the temple, Gameun-sa (Graced Temple), to commemorate his late father King Munmu (r. 661-681) who willed to become a sea dragon upon death. The relic of King Munmu had been spread in Whale Ferry (Gyeongjin 鯨津), also known as the Rock of Ruler the Great (Daewang-am) located in the waterfront of the East Sea also known as the Sea of Whales. Evidence substantiates that King Munmu was a Magoist Cetacean devotee clad in a Buddhist attire. Or today’s Buddhologiests call it Esoteric Buddhism. The Manpasikjeok myth may be called the story of King Sinmun’s initiation to Magoist Cetaceanism. Before explicating the Samguk Yusa account, which is prolix and complex, I have summarized the Samguk Yusa’s account as follows: (Summary of the Manpasikjeok Myth) King Sinmun ordered the completion of Gameunsa (Graced Temple) to commemorate his deceased father, King Munmu. The main hall of Gameunsa was designed at the sea level to allow the dragon to enter and stroll through the ebb and flow of the sea waves. In the second year of his reign (682 CE), Marine Officer reported that a little mountain in the East Sea was approaching Gameunsa. The king had Solar Officer perform a divination. The divination foretold that he would be given a treasure with which he could protect Wolseong (Moon Stronghold), Silla’s capital. This would be a gift from King Munmu who became a sea dragon and Gim Yusin who became a heavenly being again. In seven days, the king went out to Yigyeondae (Platform of Gaining Vision) and saw the mountain floating like a turtle’s head in the sea. There was a bamboo tree growing on its top, which became two during the day and one at night. The king stayed overnight in Gameumsa to listen to the dragon who entered the yard and the substructure of the main hall. Then, there was darkness for seven days due to a storm in the sea. After the sea calmed, the king went into the mountain to meet the dragon. The dragon told him that, if he made a flute out of the bamboo tree, the whole world would be pacified. The king had the bamboo tree brought out of the sea and made it into a flute, which became a treasure of Silla. The mountain and the dragon disappeared. The flute, when played during times of the nation’s trouble, brought peace. Thus comes its name, Manpasikjeok (the pacifying flute that defeats all). During the reign of King Hyoso (r. 692-702), his son, the flute continued to make miracles. Thus it was renamed Manmanpapasikjeok (the pacifying flute that surely defeats all of all). One day, it was reported to King Sinmun that a little mountain was approaching Gameunsa. That mountain had a mysterious bamboo tree atop. On the seventh day from then, he went out to Yigyeondae (Platform of Gaining Vision), the whale watch place near Gameumsa. Then, he stayed overnight in Gameunsa to hear the dragon who entered the temple yard through the ebb and flow of the …
(Budoji Essay 4) The Magoist Cosmogony by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

Part 4: Magoist Origin of Immortals “I maintain that Immortals originally refers to Mago’s descendants in Mago Castle, the Primordial Paradise. They are the primordial clan community of the Mago Species, comprised of the divine, demigods, and humans.” [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.] Magoist Origin of Immortals: All in the Mago Species are given the original nature of immortality or transcendence. Readers are advised to set aside the literal meaning in the English language of the words immortals or transcendents. Immortals is a translation of the East Asian term seon (仙, xian in Chinese). I choose the translation immortals over transcendents not because it is a better translation but because it is the most commonly used term by Western Daoist translators.[i] Although it is known as a Daoist term, I hold that it is pre-Daoist, namely Magoist, in origin. Primarily, it refers to the Mago Species (Mago and Her descendants) who dwelt in Mago Castle, the primordial home, to be discussed in detail in later chapters. Likewise, historical figures known as Immortals are Magoist rather than Daoist.