September 2, 2020August 31, 2020 Mago Work Admin

(Prose) Ritual in These Times by Arlene Bailey

Photo by Arlene Bailey ©2020
Image in photo by John Shannon

It’s a beautiful day and Mother Nature looks gorgeous in all her summer fullness. It is also a day where the energies are erratic and challenging and one of those days when I want to curl up in the roots of my huge Grandmother Oak. I want to lie in those ancient arms and be held. I want to feel the life happening below me as roots, critters and mycorrhizal enzymes in a symbiotic dance alter and enliven the system. I want to feel their community efforts working together, each individual supporting and enhancing the life of the other. I want to feel this because on a daily basis it is situational and in short supply, disappearing even, from the human community.

Tears stream down my face as I wonder what has happened. Things were definitely not perfect before – far from it – but now… NOW… well, as Alice would say, everything down is up and everything up is down and nothing is as it seems. My mind goes to that “who can I trust” place. My heart knows, but right now my mind is caught in that proverbial “but and what if” loop.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

I light a candle and pick up my drum. Randomly I strike beater against hide a few times until I find a rhythm. Then, as I feel the women of ancient times gather round me, I lay down the beater and allow my hands to find the rhythm… frame drum style. I slowly feel my body begin to move and my voice to make sounds – nothing special and definitely not melodic. Rather, visceral and raw, the sounds of my Soul moving from the depths into the now. Slowly, drum… dance… sound… begin to alter the vibrations holding me captive to the “what if’s and how come’s”, the questions and pesky doubts.

I finally reach the stillpoint where the mind is quiet and my body able to tap into its cellular memories. I light some frankincense and inhale this ancient resin whose aroma transports me back to the Temple. I drift off into memories of altars and ritual and purpose. I breathe in those rememberings as I feel myself sink deeper into connection with the Great Mother, She Who Has Been, Is and Always Will Be.

I am an Ordained Priestess of the old ways birthed into the Now to ground a different way of being and knowing, living and doing. Ritual is the language of my soul, the memory of ancient ways my guide.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

It’s never easy is it? Never what we expect. Always though what we are called forth to do and/or become. I think on this as I create a new altar to ground the experiences of this day and bring in new energies.

Thank Goddess for ritual and altars and the medicine of drums and roots and dirt-filled organisms teeming with life!

Honorings and Blessings to you Great Mother for holding and sustaining this daughter through lifetimes… for holding and sustaining me through this lifetime, especially through this now.

May you continue to hold ALL of your children.

And so it is.

(Meet Mago Contributor) Arlene Bailey

(Meet Mago Contributor) Arlene Bailey

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1 thought on “(Prose) Ritual in These Times by Arlene Bailey”

Duann Kier says:

September 3, 2020 at 10:33 AM

When the woods and water call me, I know I am in need of clarity and healing. . . .

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(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), in recognition of the ill-treatment and misunderstanding of Aboriginal people that was set in train when, in 1788, white people first settled in the land now known as Australia.
(Poem) Belgian Upper Paleolithic Bear Cult by Robin Scofield

Early modern humans stepped over bear bones, finding a niche for each of the red ochre bear skulls painted by hand, eye sockets turned outward in the Mother Bear cave, den of the Great Goddess.
(Essay 2) “Click Here” to Download Spirituality by Francesca Tronetti

While taking my deep dive into the world of subscription boxes in the fall of 2021, I became both excited and later depressed. I loved the idea of getting oodles of pagan goodies and crystals each month, but when boxes weren’t coming as fast as I wanted, I began to get bored and anxious. When they did arrive, some were loaded with witch kitsch, a half dozen loose pentacle charms with one tied to a small bottle of rosemary. Pentacles on a patch and buttons with a few black candles, and that was a box. Or they had teas, fancy hot chocolate made with mushrooms, chia additives, or face oils. Items that didn’t seem spiritually important to me, but the Instagram models of Facebook gushed over the offerings. But, the ads had me hooked. I saw the websites’ pictures that depicted boxes filled with fantastic spiritual items. Books, statues, bells, bowls, large crystal spheres, it all looked so wonderful. It was almost a complete altar, delivered to your door. Only, with each disappointment, they moved me away from spirituality and towards just getting things. It’s actually a good business model, and being overwhelmed by Covid, politics, the environment, or a garden that was not growing, the businesses fed on our collective desperation. Collectively we were drained mentally, emotionally, and spiritually and the self-care, self-help, and spiritual boxes were supposed to be the answer. When they didn’t deliver, you could visit online stores, usually with a small coupon, where you could buy what you’d seen in previous boxes or even get a past box. So our on-demand lifestyles could still be on-demand, even when it came to our spirituality. The frustration grew, and I started looking up metaphysical shops near me to shop in person and get the crystals and incense I was wanted. This thankfully helped me pull out of the trap of the boxes. When stores were open, I was able to talk to actual practitioners who had spent years studying and mastering the art, which the boxes promised to give me in a month. One fantastic shopkeeper and I talked about the popularity of crystal mapping, something which I’d seen had been very popular as of late. Talking to an actual person who was living what I was and sharing the same feelings of being overwhelmed made me realize I was acting like those plastic people I’d shaken my head at before. I wanted that spiritual fulfillment that the boxes were supposed to give me but didn’t. Because getting these boxes is like buying a bunch of spiritual self-help and spell-work books at the shop and thinking that will solve your problems. Many of the boxes were geared towards lazy spirituality. Lazy spirituality is a term I created to describe how this kind of capitalist spirituality works. Capitalist spirituality sees spiritual emptiness as something that can be filled using crystals, dreamcatchers, incense, wall hangings, singing bowls, and herbal teas. Buzzwords like meditation and mindfulness, centering yourself, chakras, and engrams are all over the internet, meant to draw you to stores, books, or classes. Capitalist spirituality tells you that you cannot heal your spiritual emptiness yourself, which can be true. However, it also says that you must buy specific items to find your spirituality and creates a competition of who’s got the best stuff between people who will probably never meet in person. You want a singing bowl with beautiful decorations, large selenite towers, fancy Himalayan salt lamps, and giant amethyst geodes for your end tables. It is a new kind of “Keeping up with the Jones” where rather than focusing on cars or gadgets to show off your material wealth, you are supposed to show off your spiritual wealth. You can afford to take a weekend meditation retreat at a spa in the Berkshires or a beach resort. Pictures of your house show every room with lush meditation pillows in bright colors as plants cascade down the walls and from the ceiling. How does all this work? How do these things make you spiritual? Well, this is where lazy spirituality comes in. Chakra Smudge, photo by Francesca Tronetti Lazy spirituality is built on the capitalist spirituality model where you are handed “spiritual” items and told to use them to heal yourself. A collection of seven tumbled square stones is to be arranged to balance your chakras. For $5, you can buy an “Energy Cleansing Smudge Kit ~ With Amethyst~” or Palo Santo sticks painted to match the chakras. Lazy spirituality is the quick fix for your spiritual emptiness because the idea is that having these items will instantly fix your spiritual problems. The smudging kit contains palo santo, sage, and a selenite wand. Burn the sage to cleanse the space, burn the palo santo to refresh it, and use the selenite to keep negative energies from the area and increase your clarity and inner peace. It is a fix it and forget it kit that is supposed to change the feeling of your room or home instantly. The lazy spirituality method is very much about the objects you can display, such as Fung Shui coins, amulets to protect you against the evil eye, and spiral goddess images on stained glass. These items are supposed to instantly bring you peace and balance while making the walls or windows of your home look pretty. And, of course, you need to have at least one display of chakras. Chakras seem to have been the biggest seller on the spirituality market for the past few years, even beating out smudging. The traditional Native American practice of cleansing a home has become so popular that Southwestern tribes now have difficulty obtaining the white sage used in their sacred rituals. Capitalist spirituality is physically robbing Native Americans by denying them their ritual tools. While at the same time leaving those, it was old to hollow and still searching for fulfillment. It is ironic that while we are more aware than ever of cultural …
(Book Excerpt) To be Reborn (Again) from Spinning in Place by Bart Everson

[This essay is adapted by the author from “Spring in the Subtropics, Spring in the Self,” a chapter in Spinning in Place: A Secular Humanist Embraces the Neo-Pagan Wheel of the Year.] Purification rites Balance is not static but flowing, and the equinoxes represent this especially when considered as a pair. The primary difference between the vernal and autumnal equinoxes is their valence, their charge, their spin. As the sun passes through the equatorial plane in March, the Northern Hemisphere moves into the light half of the year, while the Southern Hemisphere moves into the dark half. The equinoxes are not static dead-ends but transitional moments, tipping points.
(Art Essay 1) An experience of the Cailleach Beare, primordial creatrix of ancient Ireland Frances Guerin

I was summoned to Ireland by a crow tapping its beak loudly against my window just after dawn for many months. In frustration I yelled out, “Who are you and what do you want?” Surprisingly, a thought responded, “Mother and grandmother”. Then the crow came no more. However at night I dreamed of the Gaelic place names of Ireland, and the mysterious words, Cailleach Beare and Fianna, written in the scales of a snake’s back. The great blue snake sped across the south west of Ireland and transformed into a woman in white with a red sun behind her. Then little ceramic figures emerged including one of a woman riding a turtle. The great Ah ha moment came when I found other contemporary artists who had made similar works of a woman on a turtle. French artist Annette Messager drew a constellation in the form of a woman on a live turtle and set them free in the Jardin du Tendre. Peter Jones, an Iriquois Indian, told an old tale of Louise Skywoman falling to earth, off balance as she copes with contemporary life as a drinks waitress. The final discovery was the blue Hindu god Vishnu’s 2nd incarnation as a turtle that bore the earth mountain on his back during a flood similar in ways and times to the biblical Noah.
(Poetry) The Hawk and Squirrel in the Garden by Carolyn Lee Boyd

Carolyn Lee Boyd A summer snowfall of white feathers A dragon sleeping on a perfect square of suburb A cloudlike portal to a parallel mythic realm above heaven, Such were the ponderings of the weekend Gardener, The Divinely appointed caretaker of this tiny speck of soil, As she first spotted, while walking home from her office job, The mystery, the creature overspreading Half the grass leading up to her yellow-painted, Picket-fenced so ordinary house. What could it be? It was, in the Gardener’s eyes, so immense with its wings spread Appearing several times its actual size due to its creation Of a protective realm of sovereignty around itself Maybe an ancient shapeshifting fantasy So out of place She thought In her own homely and unconsecrated place and time. It was a hawk who rose from the grass and beneath, In its claws, a squirrel struggled. The Gardener witnessed the small being’s last few breaths While captive high above the Garden She had made in her backyard of fragrant herbs and flowers for smelling, Berries and nuts for feasting, soft beds of leaves for sleeping To entice through the gate Squirrels and chipmunks and woodchucks. Now thirty feet in the air and soaring to the west The hawk and its prey disappeared in the pastel blue sky. What the Gardener calls her Garden was once covered by glaciers Which receded, leaving an Arctic tundra That warmed and, at least 10,000 years ago, According to artifacts still emerging at just the right moment To tell the stories that need to be heard, Humans set their feet upon the ground to dwell, To live, to be birthed and give birth, to make stories and sing, and to die. First the land was hunted and fished Just enough to feed the First People who lived here. Then it was ripped open by European plows And planted with only apple trees, the animals, birds, insects, grasses Shut out by wire and wood fence, poisons and grasping tools. Finally, a century ago, after the house was built, The land was lovingly cultivated by Generations of women who each made it her own vision of paradise. The last in this line of women, the Gardener, Envisions the land to be a calm, peaceful, lovely place That embraces neither the fierce, majesty of the hawk Nor the violent death of the squirrel. I am the Spirit of this land, Holder of both the Gardener’s everyday realm And the almost infinitely complex world of the Garden’s Real nature and all the beings who live in it From bacteria to humans, from fern spores to maple trees three feet in diameter, from sparrows to owls. Propelled by the sight of the hawk and squirrel Into an instant of understanding that the Garden was not only What she had created and conceived it to be But also a place much more than she could imagine And all she had ever desired, I levitated the Gardener’s soul into the air And she saw her Garden with the eyes of the hawk. She witnessed, in her orderly beds, The native and storebought flowers and herbs planted by her own hand. And, amongst them, with wild abundance, More species than are known to human science Grown from seeds dropped from traveling birds or on the breeze Snakelike runners under the ground, roots burrowed deep in the soil Coming to life now that they are welcome. Woodchucks, foxes and cubs, squirrels, chipmunks, coyotes, and Millions of dragonflies, butterflies, mosquitoes, grubs, ladybugs Billions of one celled beings that are part of the Massive ecosystems that are plants and animals. All connected to hundreds or thousands of other beings by chemical communication By sound, taste, smell, and instinct and intuition. By my Spirit. The taking of the squirrel was just one of millions of interactions Exchanges of life and death that happen everyday so that The entire web may exist in balance and well being. Birth, growth, life, and decay, the dance that enlivens the universe Within that one-eighth acre landscape. She closed her eyes and began to truly listen To the cacophony of all the beings in that small area of ground Each with its own voice and its own rhythm Seemingly, each struggling to make itself heard Amongst the chaos of so many other beings. But then she listened even more deeply A united song began to emerge That of the Spirit of the Land itself. My Voice. All the rhythms and melodies of all the beings As well as the soil, air, sun, and water that call the Land home Emerged into one rhythm and melody. “I can hear it!” the Gardener exclaimed, “With my own ears, I can hear it!” She had heard it every day since she had moved into the house But never perceived it because She had been taught that no realm existed In the world of daily human life Where such a song could make galaxies far away reverberate. Then she heard her own voice And it was clearly a part of this symphony An essential element of the music and without it The Land’s song would be not just different But incomplete, not fully alive. She began to sing with her throat So anyone walking down the sidewalk On their way home from work or school could hear. She sang to the land, sang to it a love song and a lullaby A chant of praise and thanksgiving. She told the Land of her longing to be part of its true being for so long And all the while she had never been apart from it. The Land, My voice, listened and responded, altering its song to harmonize even more closely with hers. At that moment she knew what the Spirit of the Land was, Who I was. I am the relationship between all the living beings, I am that eternal aspect of them all, including the Gardener, That exists beyond physical birth, life, and death. I am …
(Art) Earth Mother Motorcycle by Pegi Eyers

Art by Pegi Eyers The Goddess Spirituality movement seeks to re-sanctify the natural places of the world and the attitudes and icons of our culture. Why not a Goddess on a Harley? Commemorative shrines and home altars venerating the Divine Feminine with ritual tools, candles, fruit, flowers and sacred objects are a tradition going back thousands of years. The Venus of Willendorf’s wild ride was painstakingly and reverently created with bits of cut paper, fabric and ephemera. (This is included in She Rises: What… Goddess Feminism, Activism and Spirituality? Volume 3)(Meet Mago Contributor) Pegi Eyers.
(Book Excerpt 3) Nun too Clever by Elaine Drew

[An excerpt from the the mystery novel Nun Too Clever, which looks at what life as a queen was really like for the fairytale maiden who landed the prince.] “Let’s start at the beginning,” I suggested. “What was Elfwinne doing here?” “Her relatives brought her when her husband died.” “Why?” I wondered. At last I had her attention. “I don’t know. Maybe she didn’t want to remarry, and they didn’t want to take care of her. I admit I thought, at first, that her calling was a whisper rather than a shout, but over time she proved me wrong. Elfwinne prayed alone, day after day, kneeling on the hard clay of the stable.” “I can believe she was on her knees in a stable,” I said, “but I somehow doubt she was praying.” I got a withering look. I am used to it from Athelflad. I persisted. “Why pray alone? Why did she prefer the stench of livestock to the serenity of the chapel?” “She had her reasons.” “Do you know what they were?” Athelflad sighed. She wasn’t in the mood to explain. Instead she recited this history: “One morning the abbess noticed that Elfwinne had missed lauds, prime, and terce. Naturally, Mother was concerned. And angry at what looked like shirking. Mother demanded to know where she had been.” Athelflad set down her pen and drummed on the writing table. “Elfwinne said she had been praying in the stable.” I pressed her. “I suppose she had good cause?” “She did, even if it isn’t anything you can understand.” Athelflad was too upset to think clearly, but I would be a poor Christian if I didn’t believe that redemption is possible. I suspended disbelief. Maybe Elfwinne had changed. I shut up and let Athelflad tell the story as she saw it. “Elfwinne,” she said, “confessed an early life of dissolution. She grew up in the Mercian court, the child of the king’s mistress. After years of witnessing bad behaviour, she succumbed to wickedness. She knew nothing else. She didn’t fear God.” “That Elfwinne rings a bell,” I said. “Elfwinne cried and begged to be allowed this indulgence.” This sounded logical, maybe too logical. Is redemption that straightforward? Athelflad was still talking. “Elfwinne said it was an exercise in humility that she needed after the years she had spent at court. You could learn from her, Cynethrith.” Was Athelflad trying to convince me that Elfwinne was on the up and up, or did that barb cover her own bothersome ambivalence? “Did anyone expect Elfwinne to die?” I asked. “Had she been ill?” “No.” Athelflad picked up her pen and tapped it sharply on the parchment, splattering tiny droplets of ink. She stared at them. “She was robust.” “Am I to assume that Elfwinne had become so holy that God decided He must have her immediately?” Her mouth turned down. “Yes,” she said, as if that settled it. “That must be it.” “Tell me what happened. Don’t leave anything out.” “There isn’t much to tell. The bishop, stabling his horse, spotted her body prone on the floor. He raised an alarm. There was nothing we could do.” “When can I see the body?” “It’s too late. We buried her immediately.” “Why the rush?” I asked. “The bishop thought we should. He said there might be devilish spirits hovering, trying to claim someone so saintly. He said it was by God’s grace that he had happened along, since he could officiate.” Athelflad hadn’t told me everything. “There’s something else,” I said. “Yes,” she admitted. “Let’s hear it.” “We suffered another loss yesterday. It’s wrong to equate the two, but I can’t help it. Elfwinne’s death was the second dreadful thing that happened. I know God grants suffering to those He loves, and I accept it with all my heart—” She started to cry. I hugged her and prayed God might agree that she had suffered enough for a while. She went on. “This morning we realised that St. Eugenia was gone.” St. Eugenia is a reliquary. The sisters love her with the fervent devotion of an infant for her mother. She is the comforter, the one who loves us with all our imperfections. From the day of her arrival, St. Eugenia has presided in a place of honour in the chapel. There sat the gold and bejewelled saint, dressed in the men’s clothing she preferred, for as long as I could remember. An opening in the back of her head, which sadly the living saint lost in her martyrdom, contained two of her teeth, four thorns from Christ’s crown, and two hairs from the coat of St. Jerome’s lion. St. Eugenia brought pilgrims from all Wessex to the abbey, and many of them, proclaiming the saint’s miraculous healing powers, filled the abbey’s coffers with their offerings. The loss, both spiritual and material, was considerable. (End of the Excerpt) https://www.magoism.net/2013/07/meet-mago-contributor-elaine-drew/
(Poem) Mother is Water by Alex Purbrick

“Healing Water,” photo work by Alex Purbrick SHE is my Mother. SHE welcomed me to her desert home and offered me an oasis when I was parched and alone. “Come into my arms, bathe with me, let my hot water heal your pain, your sadness, your loss.” she whispered. Her water was hot. SHE made me sweat as I sat in her arms but her touch was like silk. SHE wrapped herself around me, comforting and soothing me. My tears fell on her body, they became one with her, my salt merging with hers. I cried and cried as I spoke to her of my grief, my longing for my mother, for a love that would soothe my pain. “Sing to me”, SHE would whisper, “so I can hear your sweet voice and the love from your songs.” I sang melodies, chants, harmonies and tunes, all from my heart. No words just sounds. SHE enjoyed my songs. “Keep singing”, SHE would say, “your voice will heal you.” For four years I bathed in her body and drunk her sweet nectar, her water of life. SHE was my sanctuary. The bath house was her womb where I could be one with her and all my pain washed away in the heat of minerals and salt water. SHE became my mother. The mother I had lost whose heart now returned. Returned to me as the water, Returned life to my lost soul. I wanted to stay in her arms forever. Now I had found her, I didn’t want to lose her again. But one day SHE sang a song to me in words I did not recognise. “Ishq ana poo” Those three words SHE sang and sang in repetition, a melody that seemed beautiful but also confusing to my ears. “ishq ana poo”, “ishq ana poo” “Mother I do not understand,” I cried. “What is your song?” “Go home,” SHE sighed. “Go home to the waters of Danu.” “Carry my songs, my love to your home. Danu needs your prayers. Her waters are lonely, she sings alone.” I wrestled with her song. I denied her truth, refused to believe SHE wanted me to leave. Leave her watery womb, return to the bleakness and isolation of a land I had desperately tried to escape from. But deep down in my heart I knew she was singing a truth as I started to hear a different song blowing in from over the ocean calling me home, to northern lands, far away from hot southern desert. Danu is singing. Her people no longer hear her voice. SHE is also my mother and she is alone. I return to moorland, wind, rain and grey, heavy skies. Danu’s waters are cold in dark, mysterious lochs and bubbling, winding streams. I sing songs of the desert, of heat, life and prayer And Danu is now my mother SHE nestles me in heather and moss, her clear, healing waters springing from underneath my feet Cleansing me with her heavy rains, her gift from the heavens that brings new life to my soul. Her salty waves crashing around me welcoming me to my new island home. Water is life. Danu’s songs are mine but they are also yours Come sing with me to Danu “ishq ana poo” Let her songs call you home.(Meet Mago Contributor) Alex Purbrick https://www.magoism.net/2015/07/meet-mago-contributor-alex-purbrick/

(Special Post 1) Nine-Headed Dragon Slain by Patriarchal Heroes: A Cross-cultural Discussion by Mago Circle Members

[Editor’s Note: This and the ensuing eight sequels (all nine parts) are a revised version of the discussion that has taken place in The Mago Circle, Facebook group, since September 24, 2017 to the present. Themes are introduced and interwoven in a somewhat random manner, as different discussants lead the discussion. The topic of the number nine is key to Magoism, primarily manifested as Nine Magos or the Nine Mago Creatrix. Mago Academy hosts a virtual and actual event, Nine Day Mago Celebration, annually.] Helen Hwang: I am thinking of the Nine Goddess/Mago Symbolism or Nine Numerology. Insights connect the data that I have collected, otherwise seemingly unrelated across cultures and periods. We have reasons to celebrate the nine symbolism among us. As seen in this discussion below, Hercules is most aptly equated with Huangdi (Yellow Emperor, 2698–2598 BCE), one of the forebear emperors of ancient China, who is alleged to have defeated Chiu (successor of Goma), the representative of Danguk’s Nine Giants (nine sub-states). The Magoist history writes the other way around. Chiu won the war, the archetypal international/global war waged over the defense/overthrow of the Magoist throne. Old Magoists (Danguk founded by Goma) of Nine Queen-led States defended the rebellion of the patrilocal force, represented by the Huangdi. With this victory, Old Magoist Confederacy of nine sub-states was able to maintain gynocentric peace of the ancient world for about five centuries longer until a man, Yao, rose to give a way for the establishment of the first patriarchal rule, ancient China of the Xia Dynasty (c. 2070 BCE – c. 1600 BCE). Nonetheless, patriarchal ethnocentric Sinocentric historiography has proliferated to this day. Yu, the founder of the Xia dynasty, is depicted as the hero who slains the nine-headed snake. What I am saying is here that the Nine Goddess/Symbolism is pre-patriarchal in origin and possibly speaks of the same event across cultures! The slain of nine-headed snakes or dragons indicates the usurpation of gynocentric rule by a patriarchal hero across cultures. Let me show you some available information and images to open the discussion. Lernaean Hydra 1 oz Copper | The 12 Labors of Hercules “Hercules was sent to slay the Lernaean Hyrda for his second Labor. The multi-headed, snake-like monster was defeated by Hercules after he sliced its one mortal head. The last day to purchase the 1 oz Copper Lernaean Hyrda was the November 12, 2014. There is, however, time to order the 5 oz Copper Hercules Round, and 5 oz Silver Hercules Round. To read about Hercules and his 12 Labors, check out our blog for more information. If you enjoy the 12 Labors of Hercules coin series, take a look at more Silver and Copper coin collections offered by Provident Metals. After defeating the Nemean Lion, Hercules was sent to slay the Lernaean Hydra for his second labor. The Hydra, a snake-like beast with multiple heads, was raised by Hera to destroy Hercules — making this an inevitable match up. In the face-off between Hercules and Hydra, the son of Zeus used a sword to slice off each of the creature’s necks, according to one popular tale. When the heads grew back, Hercules enlisted his nephew to burn each of the necks to halt regrowth. The Hydra had one mortal head, however; so Hercules used his golden sword to slay the mutant and complete his second labor. The beast is displayed on the Second Labor coin, to be released in the 12 Labors of Hercules Series. The reverse features the multi-headed Hydra in a striking position, displaying the daunting task Hercules faced. LERNAEAN HYDRA and II are inscribed. The familiar obverse portraying Hercules with the Nemean Lion draped over his head as armor is shown on this round, as it will be on each round in the powerful series. “1 oz CMXCIX (999 in Roman numerals) FINE COPPER” is also displayed. The 1 oz. Copper Lernaean Hydra rounds will only be available for one month from Oct. 12 through Nov. 12. Make sure to keep your 12 Labors of Hercules Series collection current before time runs out! 12 Labors of Hercules Driven crazy by Hera, Hercules slew his family — only regretful after recovering his sanity. King Thespius purified the son of Zeus, but to atone for his crimes, he was sent to serve King Eurystheus. Eurystheus ordered Hercules to execute 10 Labors, which were a series of tasks carried out as penance for his actions. Hercules successfully completed all 10, but because his nephew helped with one and he planned to accept payment for another, Eurystheus forced Hercules to finish two more Labors alone. Hercules’ Labors adhere to the traditional order of the Bibliotheca: Nemean Lion – Sept. 12, 2014 Lernaean Hydra – Oct. 12, 2014 Ceryneian Hind – Nov. 12, 2014 Erymanthian Boar – Dec. 12, 2014 Augean Stables – Jan. 12, 2015 Stymphalian Birds – Feb. 12, 2015 Cretan Bull – March 12, 2015 Mares of Diomedes – April 12, 2015 Girdle of Hippolyta – May 12, 2015 Cattle of Geryon – June 12, 2015 Apples of Hesperides – July 12, 2015 Cerberus – Aug. 12, 2015 Commemorate the historic battle between Hercules and the Lernaean Hydra with this 1 oz copper round from Provident Metals.” https://www.providentmetals.com/1-oz-copper-lernaean-hydra-the-12-labors-of-hercules.html Helen Hwang: I looked for the answer to this question: How many heads did the Hydra originally have? It is nine, which accords with its icons to be shared shortly. Helen Hwang: Check out Nine-fold or Nine-Headed Phoenix. Not all iconographies of pre-modern China vilify the nine symbolism, which indicates the influence/presence/revival of Magoism. This image is much reminiscent of the blue crane with nine feathers, a Magoist symbol that we have seen in Mago Stronghold, Mt. Jiri during Mago Pilgrimage (to be discussed in another space). “This Qing-dynasty (1644-1911) print shows the nine-headed phoenix, a being from Chinese mythology with a bird’s body and nine heads with human faces. It is one of several hybrid creatures mentioned in the Classic of Mountains and Seas (Shanhai jing), where it is […]
(Special post) The Goddess Inanna: Her Allies and Opponents by Hearth Moon Rising

Inanna’s Descent to the Underworld is one of the most fascinating myths ever told. Not just because it is profound and enlightening, although it is certainly that. It’s an exciting journey that ignites the imagination, and female characters are at the hub of the action. This is a tale of power: power that is demanded, power that is won, power that is appropriated, and power that cannot be escaped. The story follows the fertility goddess Inanna, who brought civilization to Mesopotamia, as she seeks to expand her realm by venturing into the world below. Inanna’s experiences in the great below, her escape, and the wild events that unfold as a result of her caper are the focus of the tale.
(Special Post 1) "The Oldest Civilization" and its Agendas by Mago Circle Members

[Editor’s Note: The following discussion took place in response to an article listed blow by the members of The Mago Cirlce, Facebook group of Goddessians/Magoists from May 6 to May 10, 2016. Readers are recommended to read the original article linked below that has invoked the converation.] “The Danube Civilization: Oldest in the World” in The Ancient Ones upon the ruins of our ancestors, published April 3, 2016.

(Photography & Poetry) Thoughts of Spring by Deanne Quarrie

Spring At the highest point on the tree, you stretch, reaching for the sun. Your pink petals elegant in their grace, you stand alone. Bravest of all, for leaves have yet to come to offer shade Branches bare except for furry buds that will soon follow in imitation of your daring first move. Intrepid flower of Spring, I feel like you in my yearning for the Sun!
A Southern Hemisphere Perspective on Place by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an edited excerpt from the Introduction to the author’s book PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion, which was an outcome of her doctoral research/thesis entitled The Female Metaphor – Virgin, Mother, Crone – of the Dynamic Cosmological Unfolding: Her Embodiment in Seasonal Ritual as Catalyst for Personal and Cultural Change. This doctoral work was in turn a documentation and deeper research of the Seasonal ceremonial celebrations that the author was already engaged in for over a decade. The whole of the process is here named as her “Search”. photo credit: David Widdowson, Astrovisuals. The site of seasonal ceremonial celebrations will always be significant. In my case, the place in which I have created them has been notably in the Southern Hemisphere of out Planet Earth. The fact of my context being thus – the Southern Hemisphere – had contributed in the past to my deep internalized sense of being “other”, and dissociated from my senses, since almost all stories told were based in Northern Hemisphere perspective. Yet at the same time this context of inhabiting the Southern Hemisphere contributed to my deep awareness of Gaia’s Northern Hemisphere and Her reciprocal Seasonal Moment: thus, awareness of the whole Planet. My initial confusion about the sensed Cosmos – as a Place, became a clarity about the actual Cosmos – which remained inclusive of my sensed Cosmos. PaGaian reality – the reality of our Gaian “country” – is that the whole Creative Dynamic happens all the time, all at once. The “other”, the opposite, is always present – underneath and within the Moment. This has affected my comprehension of each Sabbat/Seasonal Moment, its particular beauty but also a fullness of its transitory nature. Many in the Northern Hemisphere – even today – have no idea that the Southern Hemisphere has a ‘different’ lunar, diurnal, seasonal perspective; and because of this there often is a rigidity of frame of reference for place, language, metaphor and hence cosmology[i]. Indeed over the years of industrialized culture it has appeared to matter less to many of both hemispheres, including the ‘author-ities’, the writers of culture and cosmos. And such ‘author-ity’ and northern-hemispheric rigidity is also assumed by many more Earth-oriented writers as well[ii]. There has been consistent failure to take into account a whole Earth perspective: for example, the North Star does not need to be the point of sacred reference – there is great Poetry to be made of the void of the South Celestial Pole. Nor need the North be rigidly associated with the Earth element and darkness, nor is there really an “up” and a “down” cosmologically speaking. A sense and accountof the Southern Hemisphere perspective with all that that implies metaphorically as well as sens-ibly, seems vitally important to comprehending and sensing a whole perspective and globe – a flexibility of mind, and coming to inhabit the real Cosmos, hence enabling what I have named as a ‘PaGaian’ cosmological perspective, a whole Earth perspective. It has also been of particular significance that my Search has been birthed in the ancient continent of Australia. It is the age of the exposed rock in this Land, present to her inhabitants in an untarnished, primal mode that is significant. This Land Herself has for millennia been largely untouched by human war, conquest and concentrated human agriculture and disturbance. The inhabitants of this Land dwelt here in a manner that was largely peaceful and harmonious, for tens of thousands of years. Therefore the Land Herself may speak more clearly I feel; one may be the recipient of direct transmission of Earth in one of her most primordial modes. Her knowledge may be felt more clearly – one may be taught by Her. I think that the purity of this transmission is a significant factor in the development of the formal research I undertook – in my chosen methodology and in what I perceived in the process, and documented; from my beginnings as a country girl, albeit below my conscious mind in the subtle realms of which I knew little, to the more conscious times of entering into the process of the Search. In this Land that birthed me, ‘spirit’ is not remote and abstract, it is felt in Her red earth[iii]. Aboriginal elder David Mowaljarlai described, “This is a spirit country”[iv], and all of Her inhabitants, including non-Indigenous, may be affected by the strength of Her organic communication. It took me until the later stages of my research to realize the need to state the importance of this particular place for the advent of the research: the significance of both the land of Australia, and the specific region of the Blue Mountains in which I was now dwelling, as well as the community of this particular region, which all lent itself to the whole process. The lateness of this perception on my part, has to do with the extent of my previous alienation; but the fact that it did occur, is perhaps at least in part attributable to the unfolding awakening to my habitat that was part of the project/process. The specific region of the “Blue Mountains” – as Europeans have named them – is significant in that I don’t think that this project/process could have happened as it did in just any region. David Abram says, “The singular magic of a place is evident from what happens there, from what befalls oneself or others when in its vicinity. To tell of such events is implicitly to tell of the particular power of that site, and indeed to participate in its expressive potency[v]”. Blue Mountains, Australia: Dharug and Gundungurra Country The Blue Mountains are impressive ancient rock formations, an uplifted ancient seabed, whose “range of rock types and topographical situations has given rise to distinct plant communities”[vi]; and the presence of this great variation of plant communities, “especially the swamps, offer an abundance and variety of food sources, as well as habitats for varied fauna”[vii]. I feel that this is the case for …
Lammas – the Sacred Consuming by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

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

This essay is an edited excerpt from Chapter 5 of the author’s book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. Dates for Winter Solstice/Yule Southern Hemisphere – June 20 – 23. Northern Hemisphere – December 20 – 23 This Seasonal Moment is the ripe fullness of the Dark Womb and it is a gateway between dark and light. It is a Birthing Place – into differentiated being. Whereas Samhain/Deep Autumn is a dark conceiving Space, it flows into the Winter Solstice dark birthing Place – a dynamic Place of Being, a Sacred Interchange. This Seasonal Moment of Winter Solstice is the peaking of the dark space – the fullness of the dark, within which being and action arise. It is the peaking of emptiness, which is a fullness. As cosmologist Brian Swimme describes: the empty “ground of being … retains no thing.” It is “Ultimate Generosity.”[i] In Vajrayana Buddhism, Space is associated with Prajna/wisdom – out of which Upaya/compassionate action arises. Space is highly positive – something to be developed, so appropriate action may develop spontaneously and blissfully.[ii] In Old European Indigenous understandings, the dark and the night were valued at least as much as light, if not more so: time was counted by the number of nights, as in ‘fortnights,’ and a ‘day’ included both dark and light parts … it was ‘di-urnal’. I have been careful with my language about that inclusion in the ceremonial ‘Statement of Purpose’ for each Seasonal Moment. This awareness is resonant with modern Western scientific perceptions about the nature of the Universe: that it is seventy-three percent “dark energy,” twenty-three precent “dark matter,” four percent “ordinary matter.”[iii] The truth is that we live within this darkness: it is the Ground of all Being. In Pagan traditions since Celtic times, and in many other cultural traditions, Winter Solstice has been celebrated as the birth of the God; and in Christian tradition since about the fourth century C.E., as the birth of the saviour. But there are deeper ways of understanding what is being born: that is, who or what the “saviour” is. In the Gospel of Thomas, which was not selected for biblical canon, it says: “If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you.”[iv] This then may be the Divine Child, the “Saviour”: it may be expressed as the new Being forming in the Cosmogonic Womb,[v] who will be born. We may celebrate the birth of the new Being, which /who is always beyond us, beyond our knowing … yet is within us, burgeoning within us – and within Gaia. What will save us is already present within – forming within us. The Winter Solstice story may emphasize that what is born, is within each one – the “Divine” is not “out there”: it may be said, and expressed ceremoniously, that we are each Creator and Created. We may imagine ourselves as the in-utero foetus – an image we might have access to these days from a sonar-scan during pregnancy. This image presents a truth about Being: we are this, and it is within us, within this moment. Every moment is pregnant with the new. It will be birthed when holy darkness is full. Part of what is required is having the eyes to see the “new bone forming in flesh,” scraping our eyes “clear of learned cataracts,”[vi] seeing with fresh eyes. That is what the fullness of the Dark offers – a freshening of our eyes to see the new. And the process of Creation is always reciprocal: we are Creator and Created simultaneously, in a “ngapartji-ngapartji”[vii] way. We are in-formed by that which we form. In Earth-based religious practice, the ubiquitous icon of Mother and Child – Creator and Created – expresses something essential about the Universe itself … the “motherhood” we are all born within. It expresses the essential communion experience that this Cosmos is, the innate and holy Care that it takes, and the reciprocal nature of it. We cannot touch without being touched at the same time.[viii] We may realize that Cosmogenesis – the entire Unfolding of the Cosmos – is essentially relational: our experience tells us this is so. The image of The Birth of the Goddess on the front cover of my book PaGaian Cosmology expresses that reciprocity for me, how we may birth each other and the healing/wholing in that exchange. It is a Sacred Interchange. And it is what this Event of existence seems to be about – deep communion, which both Solstices express. Babylonian Goddess, Ur 4000-3500 BCE. Adele Getty, Goddess, 33. Birthing is not often an easy process – for the birthgiver nor for the birthed one: it is a shamanic act requiring strength of bodymind, attention, courage, and focus of the mother, and resilience and courage to be of the new young one. Birthgiving is the original place of ‘heroics,’ which many cultures of the world have never forgotten, perhaps therefore better termed as “heraics.” Patriarchal adaptations of the story of this Seasonal Moment usually miss the Creative Act of birthgiving completely, usually being pre-occupied with the “virgin” nature of the Mother which is interpreted as having an “intact hymen.” The focus of the patriarchal adaptation of the Winter Solstice story is the Child as “saviour”: even the Mother gazes at the Child in most Christian icons, while in more ancient images Her eyes are direct and expressive of Her integrity as Creator. NOTES: [i] Swimme, The Universe is a Green Dragon, 146. [ii] See Rita Gross, “The Feminine Principle in Tibetan Vajrayana Buddhism.” The Journal of Transpersonal Psychology 179-192. [iii] These figures as told by cosmologist Paul Davies with Macquarie University’s Centre for Astrobiology, Australia. [iv] Elaine Pagels, Beyond Belief: the Secret Gospel of Thomas, saying number 70. See https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/religion/story/thomas.html . [v] Melissa Raphael’s term, Thealogy and Embodiment, 262. [vi] The quotes come from a poem by Cynthia Cook, “Refractions,” Womanspirit (Oregan USA, issue 23, March 1980), 59. [vii] This is an Indigenous Australian term for reciprocity – giving and receiving at the same time. I explain it a bit further in PaGaian Cosmology, 256-257. [viii] An expression from Abram, The Spell of the Sensuous, 68. REFERENCES: Abram, David. The Spell of the Sensuous. New York: Vintage Books, 1997. Getty, Adele. Goddess: Mother of Living …
(Essay) Conceiving, Imagining the New at Samhain by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

It is the Season of Samhain/Deep Autumn in the Southern Hemisphere at this time. In the PaGaian version of Samhain/Deep Autumn ceremony participants journey to the “Luminous World Egg” … a term taken from Starhawk in her book The Spiral Dance[i], where she also names that place as the “Shining Isle”, which is of course, the Seed of conception, a metaphor for the origins of all and/or the female egg: it is the place for rebirth. Artist: Bundeluk, Blue Mountains, Australia. The “luminous world egg” is a numinous place within, the MotherStar of conception: that is, a place of unfolding/becoming. The journey to this numinous place within requires first a journey back, through some of each one’s transformations, however each may wish to name those transformations at this time. The transformations for each and every being are infinite in their number, for there is “nothing we have not been” as has been told by Celts and others of Old, and also by Western science in the evolutionary story (a story told so well by evolutionary biologist Elisabet Sahtouris, particularly in her video Journey of a Silica Atom.) Ceremonial participants may choose selves from biological, present historical self, or may choose selves from the mythic with whom they feel connection; from any lineage – biological or otherwise. Selves may also be chosen from Gaia’s evolutionary story – earlier creatures, winged or scaled ones … with whom one wishes to identify at this time. Each participant is praised for their “becoming” for each self they share. When all have completed these journeys/stories of transformation, the circle is lauded dramatically by the celebrant for their courage to transform; and she likens them all to Gaia Herself who has made such transitions for eons. The celebrant awards each with a gingerbread snake, “Gaian totems of life renewed”[ii]. gingerbread snakes Participants sit and consume these gingerbread snakes in three parts: (i) as all the “old shapes” of self that were named; and (ii) remembering the ancestors, those whose lives have been harvested, whose lives have fed our own, remembering that we too are the ancestors, that we will be consumed; and (iii) remembering and consuming the stories of our world that they desire to change, the stories that fire their wrath or sympathy: in the consuming, absorbing them (as we do), each may transform them by thoughts and actions – “in our own bodyminds”. When all that is consumed “wasting no part”, it is said that “we are then free to radiate whatever we conceive”, to “exclaim the strongest natural fibre known” – our creative selves, “into such art, such architecture, as can house a world made sacred” by our building[iii]. This “natural fibre” is a reference to the spider’s thread from within her own body, with which she weaves her web, her home; and Spider has frequently been felt in indigenous cultures around the globe as Weaver and Creator of the Cosmos. Spider the Creatrix, North America, C. 1300 C.E., Hallie Iglehart Austen, The Heart of the Goddess, p.13 In the ceremony, participants linked with a thread that they weave around the circle, may sail together for a new world “across the vast sunless sea between endings and beginnings, across the Womb of magic and transformation, to the “Not-Yet” who beckons”[iv]: to the Luminous World Egg whereupon the new may be conceived and dreamed up. Samhain/Deep Autumn ceremony is an excellent place for co-creating ourselves, for imaginingthe More that we may become, and wish to become. This is where creation and co-creation happens … in the Womb of Space[v], in which we are immersed – at all times: and Samhain is a good season for feeling it. References: Livingstone, Glenys. PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion. NE: iUniverse, 2005 Sahtouris, Elisabet. Earthdance: Living Systems in Evolution. Lincoln NE:iUniversity Press, 2000. Starhawk, The Spiral Dance: A Rebirth of the Ancient Religion of the Great Goddess. NY: Harper and Row, 1999. Swimme, Brian. The Earth’s Imagination.DVD series 1998. NOTES: [i]p.210 [ii]a version of this Samhain script is offered in Chapter 7 PaGaian Cosmology [iii]These quoted phrases are from Robin Morgan, “The Network of the Imaginary Mother”, in Lady of the Beasts, p.84. This poem is a core inspiration of the ceremony. [iv]“Not-Yet” is a term used by Brian Swimme, The Earth’s Imagination, video 8 “The Surprise of Cosmogenesis”. [v]note that creation does not happen at the point of some god’s index finger, as imagined in the Sistine Chapel – what a takeover that is!
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/

(Poem) Knowing Mago Calendar by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

[Author’s Note: This poem was an offshoot of an essay on Magoist Calendar and Nine Numerology, to be included in the forthcoming anthology, Celebrating Seasons of the Goddess (Mago Books, 2017). I thank Genevieve Vaughan, Danica Anderson, and Harriet Ann Ellenbeger who have given me feedback to the article and inspiration to this poem.] Mago Calendar is the umbilical cord of the Great Goddess, the umbilical cord that re-members the Beginning Story of us all terrestrial beings, that enables the one and many songs/dances of the Earth, and that nourishes the human world to sing the chorus to the cosmic lullaby. Mago Calendar is the grand wheel of the Great Mother, the grand wheel that spirals the inter-cosmic orbit of truth, goodness, and beauty, that carries all earthlings to the fullest becoming, and that builds bridges into the inter-protonic galaxies. Mago Calendar is the everlasting blessing of the Nine Mago Creatrix, the everlasting blessing that scripts the ecstasy of Heavenly Numerology, that charts the Earth’s metamorphosis from the infinite to the physical, and that unfolds the Reality of the Mago Time, WE/HERE/NOW. (Meet Mago Contributor) Helen Hye-Sook Hwang.
(Tribute) In Loving Memory of Lydia Ruyle (1935-2016) by Mago Circle Members

We posthumously honor Lydia Ruyle (August 5, 1935-March 26, 2016) as Patron of Goddess Feminism, Activism, and Spirituality. Mago Circle Members on June 11, 2016. Glenys Livingstone I feel blessed to have known Lydia and to have been in occasional personal communication with her for several years … initially via the Goddess Scholars list. Lydia sent me great information of some of her journeys, was always encouraging and generously supported my CD crowdfunding project in 2015. I feel honoured to have carried her Goddess banners to Australia in 2014.
(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.