November 22, 2017November 15, 2019 Mago WorkLeave a comment

(Book Excerpt 1) Re-visioning Medusa Eds. by Glenys Livingstone, Trista Hendren et. al.

Preface Joan Marler The remarkable anthology you are holding in your hands contains the personal stories, scholarly research, revelations, and original artwork by women from Australia, North America, Europe, Israel Read More …

August 31, 2017October 2, 2019 Deanne Quarrie2 Comments

(Prose) What is Apple Branch Dianic Witchcraft? By Deanne Quarrie, D. Min. HPS

Dianic Witchcraft For every woman who calls herself Dianic, you will receive a different response to that question. Rather than quote other sources, let me just create for you who Read More …

August 25, 2017November 8, 2019 hearthrising2 Comments

(Essay) This Disease Cannot Be Excised: Countering Patriarchal Religion by Hearth Moon Rising

It is clear to many feminists that the most important and challenging avenues for pursuing women’s liberation in the twenty-first century are elimination of poverty and freedom from violence. Violence Read More …

August 21, 2017October 2, 2019 Deanne Quarrie4 Comments

(Prose) Dog Days, Holly, Spears and Swords by Deanne Quarrie, D.Min.

We are in what are called the “dog days” of summer. Imagine that the ancients thought that Sirius (one of the dog constellations) was the cause of the extra hot Read More …

August 16, 2017October 2, 2019 Mago Work Admin5 Comments

(Art) Sanctus Miscanthus—Latin Saint of Ornamental Grasses by Sudie Rakusin

Sanctus Miscanthus inspires us to adapt with grace and acceptance, despite difficulties or poor conditions in our surroundings. Feathery ornamental grasses whisper and dance in the wind. They burst forth, Read More …

August 4, 2017October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Book Announcement) Dark Matters by Susan Hawthorne

Language makes us. But we too remake language. And ourselves. If we listen, imagine, invent. Listen to me. Listen to my language. Once upon a time it was the language Read More …

August 2, 2017October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Art) Luna by Liz Darling

These works are an exploration of what I perceive as sacred. I am viscerally drawn to earth-based spirituality and in giving voice to the space between what is “alive” and what is not. Read More …

July 31, 2017October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Prose) The Feast of the New Grain/Lammas: The Turning of the Wheel by Sara Wright

The Turning of the Wheel Today heavy mist shrouds the apple trees and rises like puffs of smoke over the mountains. Every twig is still covered with lush green leaves Read More …

July 5, 2017October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Art) Cycles by Liz Darling

The experience of becoming a mother transformed the way I view the female body and the creation of life. Inspired by performing in Eve Ensler’s “The Vagina Monologues,” I use Read More …

June 23, 2017October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Prose) White ink: Gifted with/in the presence of women by Nane Jordan

Spending two days on retreat with Gestare last week, a women’s art collective I co-founded 5 years ago. Gestare is an artful and nourishing part of my life. Though it Read More …

June 21, 2017October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Photo Poem) A Prayer to Divine Mother Within by Amina Rodriguez

Divine Mother within; show me what I have been, What I am and what I shall become Divine Mother within, show me all the pain I carry, For all women Read More …

June 15, 2017December 19, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Essay 3) The Magoist Calendar: Mago Time inscribed in Sonic Numerology by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

[Author’s Note: This is my latest research that has led me to restore the 13-month, 28-day Mago Calendar, which will be included at the end of its sequels. See Mago Almanac: Read More …

June 12, 2017October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Poem) Wildflower Moon Pyre and Prayer by Sara Wright

I stood out under the thick gray clouds And listened to the bird song, the roaring river flood, watched the swallows soaring overhead cutting the invisible link between earth and Read More …

(Tribute) My Father becomes a Beaver by Sara Wright

Photo by Sara Wright The year my father died I fell in love with beavers. All summer I watched them at dawn and dusk gnaw down the poplars, drag them to the plume, observing keenly how the trees slid so easily into the stream… as the kits grew, little furry heads accompanied their parents carrying whittled sticks in their mouths to help shore up their ever expanding lodge. I always sat quietly so some evenings around dusk the kits would swim right up to me. Occasionally one would slap a leathery flat tail before diving deep. When the ‘call’ came on All Hallows Eve my father sounded sad and resigned. He was being operated on for colon cancer that week. The shock of finding out so suddenly choked me up with grief so intense I could barely respond. He had told no one he had cancer. We hung up. A trip to NY and to*** the hospital was distressing. I saw my dad twice. The first time he barely acknowledged me; that night he looked into my eyes and called me “his girl,” words he had never used to describe me, his daughter, during our entire life – time together. Two days later, after returning to Maine, I awakened from a dream with the words, “your father has become a beaver” just as the phone rang. My father had died minutes before. A second frantic trip to NY was cut short. My mother had decreed there would be no funeral. If anyone needed to have a memorial of some kind it was my father who had spent his entire life doing his best to care about his family and other people. He was an extrovert that tried too hard to please. Although, sometimes overly kind in public, privately he had a problem with explosive rage. As a child I was terrified of him – I never knew when mindless chaos would erupt and it destroyed any sense of safety I might have had being with him (I so desperately needed to feel safe. I had been an unwanted child; almost aborted it turns out). Yet in retrospect, I remembered that my dad was the one who held my head while I was throwing up, carried me in his arms when I fell asleep after a long car trip. My father took me to the hospital, the circus, read to us at night, helped his children climb the circular stairs of the Statue of Liberty, bought me my first prayer book when I chose to become Episcopalian, told me that when he prayed it was always to Mary… It didn’t help that my mother and her family kept her children away from my father’s Italian family. We grew up with cousins, aunts and uncles we barely knew. My mother despised Catholics and Italians and made no secret of it (why did she marry one?). My little brother and I knew enough not to cross her, and sadly, aligned ourselves with our mother although secretly we never shared her beliefs. When my brother killed himself (‘myself’ – I wrote this word first by mistake – gives the reader an idea of how close we were) it was my father who went to see his dead son, who made every necessary arrangement. I stood by him. Helping. My father burned the Navajo Hogan my brother died in, in my parents driveway. I can still remember the smell of burning skins… My mother drove me out of the house at midnight. The morning after I returned home a pure white dove appeared on the ground along with the other mourning doves I routinely fed outside the window. A white dove? I had never seen one before. I had the uncanny sense that my father was trying to communicate with me through that bird, perhaps an aspect of Mary? The dove stayed only one day, leaving me if possible, more bereft when s/he left… When I spoke to my uncle Alex, my dad’s only surviving brother, he told me another even more incredible story. He was eating pasta one night when he bit into something hard. When he pulled the object out of his mouth it was a tiny white stone dove. We had been in the process of planning a Memorial service for my dad just before this happened. The seemingly miraculous presence of the dove sealed the rightness of what we were doing, although personally I had never had doubts and either had my aunt and uncle. As soon as my father was cremated and his ashes returned, my mother pawned them off on one of my sons who promptly gave them to me. No one wanted them. The Memorial service would be held in two months time. I called my mother to invite her. She screamed “you selfish girl” and I hung up. My father adored his two grandchildren. When I contacted my sons and they informed me they would not attend the Memorial service either I was sickened. I knew from personal experience the dark power of my mother’s ability to influence young people in a negative way. My children, who loved their grandfather deeply, were making a horrible mistake that they would come to regret for the rest of their lives if they ever woke up, and I knew it. Meanwhile, I placed the ashes on a table where shafts of light lit up the plain brown box almost all day long…My father loved the sun. The little prayer book that he had given me found its way to the top of the box. I kept it open to a passage that I poured over and over during my two- month vigil … “ in my father’s house there are many mansions…” I cleared a place within a copse of cedars for my dad’s ashes, dug a hole before it became impossible to do so…It was still November…I spent thanksgiving alone except for the beavers who I had been visiting all along until the week before …
‘Logbook of a Mother Who Strives for the Mother Earth Sanctuary’ by Wennifer A. Lin

For the past 20 years, I’ve been rather obsessed with the vision of creating a sustainable, matristic eco-sanctuary for birthing consciously, balancing body/mind/spirit wholistically, growing food biodynamically, and living communally. I had such a “calling” before I became a mother and had kids, and the irony of it is that now that I have three, I see the importance and urgency of it more than ever, but I struggle with having enough time, resources, energy to start one up when my plate is already so full with just being a “mom” and trying to do it all as best as I can, and yet, feeling like I never do it good enough, or fast enough, or thoroughly enough. I’ve always been a perfectionist and I thrive on working myself to the bone (not necessarily a healthy thing), but I must say, motherhood is the toughest, most humbling, unpaid, and undervalued job ever, where the workload simply seems never ending. Don’t even talk about working “over-time” because it’s a daily occurrence … you just never get paid for it … sometimes not even in gratitude, and yet, there’s a sweetness and a pricelessness to it all. So this is a rather huge dilemma I’ve been wrestling with for quite some time now. In matriarchal/native societies, families lived and worked together communally …. women (and men) shared the joys and burdens of raising kids, making food, keeping the household, the clan, running smoothly. Now, each woman in nuclear family households is expected to do everything on her own (as well as be a wife, a daughter, a sister, an auntie, a school volunteer, a girl scout leader, and a working professional … and even with the best of husbands who do help out, it’s still endless work in and out of the house). Add to that the time-consuming, labor-intensive approaches to living organically, wholistically, wholesomely [ie, conscious conception = conscious birthing = conscious raising of kids (ie, baby-wearing, co-sleeping, on-demand nursing, elimination communication, aka diaper-free method, something native people have done rather universally and very successfully until the disposable diaper companies started brainwashing everyone and polluting the landfills in the process, etc) = conscious preparation of foods and not relying on pre-packaged, preservative-laden “fast” foods, etc.]. Basically, and this is the crux of my recent talk this summer at the East-West Center at UH Manoa in Hawaii where my cohort and I gave a joint lecture on food and community …. while it is ultra important to preserve food sovereignty and squash out biopiracy (Vandana Shiva – love her work), we forget that just as quickly as our rights to clean soil, clean water, clean foods (ie, non-GMO seeds) are being corrupted and/or taken away by hegemonic governmental and corporate greed, our societal structure, one that really nurtures the community as a whole …. one that I would see as matristic or matriarchal … is quickly becoming extinct, leaving the mothers and the children, as well as the fathers, with very little support and all too much work to do single-handedly. So for instance, even when we succeed in procuring nutrient-rich, organically-grown veggies and store them in our fridge, who is going to then take out these ingredients, prepare them in a “slow food” manner and give these ingredients the love and attention they demand to make a truly well-balanced, tasty, homecooked meal? WHO?!?! The mother who is rushing all day from point A to point B, driving the kids to and from school, to and from extra-curricular activities, volunteering, working, coming home at dinner-time feeling starved, dehydrated, and fatigued and wishing she had 3 of herself so a decent meal could have been prepared in a timely manner? So she throws up her hands and caves in to buying “fast food” to get by at least one more meal, hoping that perhaps, tomorrow will be less hectic and she can finally make good use of those organic veggies in the fridge before they spoil. The modern, Western ethic to be “independent” (rather than “inter-dependent”) at all costs to prove one’s worth is sought after at a very high price, and essentially, no one wins. It’s a lonely, isolating, and disconnecting process, where kids, like the organic veggies, are coveted and cherished, but often more in thought than in action simply because it’s impossible to do everything and do it all in a timely manner when there’s just one of you. Recently, I was advised by a Waldorf kindergarten teacher that the little kids need to be kept away from TV and not be allowed to watch more than one hour per week, if that. I told her that I wholeheartedly agree, but that it’s easier said than done, especially in a nuclear family household. I shared with her that when I was raised in an extended-family, quasi-matriarchal (I say “quasi” because our family was also influenced by Confucian patriarchal values) household in Taiwan, and later, even here in the US, we all lived together, under one roof, in community, where we had not only our siblings and cousins to play with, but also had multiple uncles and aunties and grandparents to watch after us, so we NEVER felt this “need” to zone out in front of TVs because our household was big, connected, and always bustling with life and interaction. TV shows and their dramas faded in comparison to our own. So I asked this Waldorf teacher, do you realize that while all parents would LIKE to entertain and instruct and dote over their kids 24/7, there simply isn’t “enough” of them to do so? And that our problem with kids watching too much TV isn’t even the TV (or computer) itself, but our screwed up societal structure? She was rather stumped by my rebuttal. Within these past couple of years, I have been more proactively searching for others to potentially collaborate with to create this (for lack of a better title) Mother Earth Sanctuary …. “a webwork of sustainable, …
(Book Review) Genevieve Vaughan’s The Gift in the Heart of Language: the Maternal Source of Meaning by Kaarina Kailo

(Book Review) The Gift in the Heart of Language: the Maternal Source of Meaning by Genevieve Vaughan (Mimesis International 2015) Genevieve Vaughan has published her third book regarding the reality and transformative potential of the gift economy, a logic and matrix of practices that imply the liberation of all genders. The new theory provides solutions to the most urgent need in neoliberal capitalist societies: to overturn the civilizational crises that capitalism and patriarchy have caused with the distortion and appropriation of the Gift. The Gift in the Heart of Language provides sobering and mind-altering perspectives on the gift economy in all of its manifestations.
Search for Mago Volunteers: Co-editors, Bloggers, and Promoters

We are very grateful that Return to Mago (RTM) E-Magazine (http://magoism.net) has grown to fruition for the last four years. We have now more than 110 contributors and world-wide readers from 160 countries. Meet who we are here. RTM is operated by the hand of volunteer co-editors and bloggers including Mary Saracino as Editor-in-Chief, Rosemary Mattingley as Co-editor, and Helen Hwang as Founding Director and Co-editor as well as present blogging volunteers, Spider Redgold and Alaya Dannu. As Rosemary Mattingley, currently Admin Editor, steps down from the task of Admin Editor as of July 15, 2016, we are seeking the following volunteer positions.
(Essay 2) Through a Darkened Door—Light by Mary Ann Ghaffurian PhD

Between the beginning-story and now, at different times, a great numinous proximity welled. It was then that I knew I was onto one or other of the great vital puzzle pieces that could help put all the ghosts to rest. It was all the more shocking to realise because it took almost mental, spiritual and soul cataclysm to bring it on — so successfully had the pathways been deliberately effaced or rubbed out. Dr MAG When the seeker of truth or pilgrim sets out on a journey, he or she is on an open-ended path of self-discovery. There is a degree of submission to the path, and alertness to new intimations of “the whole”. Echoing the Tao: “She is modest, like one who is a guest, She is yielding, like ice that is going to melt, She is simple, like wood that is unplaned,” [i] yet, equally: “Chaos must be faced.”[ii] Early on I began to use maps for human consciousness interpretation, and as a way to press forward.[iii] Maps are image, direction and “whole picture” suggestions, depicting the imaginative struggle of individual or culture to pin to the known what is actually unknown, or the so-far indecipherable, as well as that which has been partially discovered. All knowledge proceeds this way, via maps, regardless of whether information is computational, intellectual, scientific, anecdotal or visceral. Maps, no matter how sketchy, unfilled-in or inaccurate, are created in people’s heads as they proceed through life. It is also true of the great discoveries of human inner life. We map our experiences as we make sense of how to go forward in a world where there is a growing sense of incomprehension and dismay as to what has been received knowledge — that things are not what they seem, and therefore the maps might be wrong, including our internal ones. If we view an imaginative map of the entire knowledge-world, the dominant received information of the education system has a North-Atlantic, US-European slant, even if that information and “knowledge” is received via many media: books, TV, films, magazines, other people and the internet. The “Inanna Moment” This is possibly an “Inanna-moment” for many, where one has to be confident Ereshkigal is not waiting at the end of the journey to leave one naked and cold on a meat-hook to dry out deep in the earth. One has to be poised, to stand at the door to the unknown, and knock. A moment of trust. When soul and psyche begin to wrest free, they leave much behind in the process, clearing body and soul of the hampering past, burning dross on pyres, unwinding metaphorical shrouds, emptying mildewy capes: at the same time learning new ways of the ancient, forever new, assisting us in our reconnection to Origin. Were she already among the immortals – were she already there at the goal to which this difficult path seems to be taking her – with what amazement she would look back over all this coming and going, all the indecision and wild zig-zagging of her tracks. With what a mixture of encouragement and blame, pity and joy…[iv] A “Mago Moment”… Feminism is now an established scholarly tradition, so as we step into the deeper as well as broader context of “women’s knowing”, we are drawn also into unlayering the past or what has been forgotten, in order to gain the bigger picture. Will what we call “Feminism” go through another round of transformation (as it could if it is in the unwinding, energetic phase, and not fixed), to become, what? Whatever that is, the direction has to give ultimate dignity to the woman, to the feminine, to the initiation of women, to sexual innateness, to mothering and motherhood, to birthing, and to the phases of women’s bodies, hearts, souls, minds and psyches, as women go through rebirthing via education, knowledge, initiation, awakening and regeneration. The Mago Circle opened as a new door for Western women and for Korean and south-east Asian traditional culture, ancient and modern, to be brought together. In the Mago Circle space, a heart-felt, explorative environment has become manifest in Social Media, where women (and men) can allow themselves to “come forth”, out of the closet of deeply held fear, apprehensions, even closely guarded secrets about their inner journey, to embrace spiritual certitude, as they embrace the renewal of the sacred Goddess and Mother connection, her forms, powers and entrustments from traditions both inside and outside traditional Western systemic, patrilineal lines, and from the sacred traditions of the East. So, it is exciting to have another door opening on to formerly darkened areas of knowledge and know-how, with opportunities to expand mental and mythical reach, and to deepen perception of the inner as well as the outer world geographical map. “Mago” Tradition Magoism is a new word to the modern Western vocabulary, yet it has its linguistic roots in many parts of the globe and in an ancient knowledge and know-how almost lost. Dr Helen Hwang determinedly and methodically is excavating the little-understood historical Mother-Goddess knowledge of Korea, and its traditions, the Mago, and Magoism, and in doing so is unlocking another previously invisible door, and replacing another ripped-off corner of the global map of significant, almost-lost tradition and forgotten knowledge. This is a most welcomed prospect. The newness of this discovery for those who learn of it fills them with excitement because every step to remember the ancient ways, particularly the lost Goddess ways, and those ways that hint of Source, are crucial to humanity remembering itself. Moderns have become accustomed to modes of mind that strip the soul and psyche of finer attunement to earth, sea, stars and each other. This renders most adrift on a sea of seeming limitless freedoms, to be picked up by any technological hook that would substitute for inner knowing. The map becomes the new computer wiring, insurance policy or bank regulation to follow. But once we scrape from our psyches the encrustation of mind …
(Book Review) Kommentar zu Graebner/Wengrow: A critical appraisal of David Graeber and David Wengrow’s The Dawn of Everything: A New History of Humanity (2021) by Heide Goettner-Abendroth

A great title and a great book; the entire history of humankind in a single volume! This arouses curiosity, especially since the two authors are experts in their respective fields: Graeber is an anthropologist and Wengrow an archaeologist. Hence the praise in the general press is not long in coming. Nevertheless, this book also deserves a critical appraisal. What is valuable about this book is not only the expertise of the two authors, who have incorporated the latest archaeological findings, but also that they fundamentally show that egalitarian societies make up the vast majority of human history and not infrequently re- established themselves by breaking away from societies based on domination. The authors therefore contradict the view that egalitarian societies and democracies are rare exceptions in a history characterised by kingdoms, empires and repressive states. They refute the view that domination has always existed everywhere and forms part of “human nature”, so to speak. This view of an endless history written by the victors is overturned by their work and that’s a good thing! For if domination from the top down had always existed, it would make no sense to rise up against it – something which is in the interest of those representing the history of the victors. According to this “history of victors” belief, indigenous peoples and women as a whole fall by the wayside. It is therefore fascinating to read how the authors reverse this view and place the wisdom of Indigenous peoples at the centre, using the example of the political criticism of the Iroquois against the white Europeans, whose society was characterised by egotism, competition and private ownership, lack of individual freedom and arbitrary violence. The authors also emphasise how much the egalitarian constitution of the League of the Five Nations, or the Haudenosaunee Confederacy, influenced the constitution of America’s Founding Fathers and later the French Revolution, a fact that is all too readily denied by white Americans and Europeans. Equally revealing is the description by the two authors of how criticism by Indigenous people was answered and counteracted by the European elite. They were degraded to the status of “noble savages” and theories of the unilineal development of history (“stage theories”) were invented in which, for instance, the inferior stage of “barbarism” was attributed to their social order while only the Western social order had risen to the level of “civilisation”. These stage theories of history were the intellectual ideology used in colonial times to justify the conquest of other peoples and the destruction of their cultures, with noticeable repercussions to this day. With their decisive inclusion of the Indigenous perspective, the authors critically question this Euro-American history of victors and expose its unenlightened arrogance. But what about the inclusion of women’s perspectives? They are generally also the victims of the history of victors because they simply do not exist in it. Although they are far from a marginal group, making up half of humanity, in this “new history of humanity” they only sporadically appear and then in an unrelated context. However, at least they do appear, something which distinguishes this “new history” from other histories written by males. But their significance is not grasped, as if they had not achieved anything throughout the millennia of human history that would have been worthy of detailed mention and, above all, systematic inclusion. This “new” history is strangely incomplete when it comes to the activities and inventions of women and their shaping of social orders. Yet it is precisely the situation of women, their freedom or lack of freedom, that reflects the state of a society as a whole. This significance of women in the history of humanity is one of the burning questions we want to explore. The other burning question is: where does humankind’s striving for equality and happiness come from? By “equality” here I don’t mean egalitarianism or formal equality but an understanding that each individual has the same value in spite of the countless differences between people. When each and every individual has the same value, they are given personal dignity and freedom of choice in acting together with others. This aspiration is deeply rooted in human beings but what is its origin? We learn nothing about this in this book, except that the notion of an original state of equality in human history is rejected as a relic of the old stage theories. Yet the question remains: why do humans strive so intensely for happiness and equality and how have they managed to live egalitarian lives in such long and different periods of history? This seems contradictory, and it has to do with the fact that the fundamental importance of women and mothers does not feature in this work. Consequently, despite the authors’ honest attempt at balance, the work remains male-oriented and therefore limited. For the fundamental importance of women and mothers in the humanisation of Homo sapiens, we will only briefly refer to the work of Sarah Blaffer Hrdy, who has shown that it’s precisely the care, attention and capacity for empathy of mothers that distinguishes the human species from the animal world. This ability was passed on to the whole community as other women and also men adopted this original maternal attitude and empathy with other people and beings and it became a characteristic trait of the human species. Human infants in indigenous societies grew up, and continue to grow up today, in an environment of universal care and empathy that makes them aware of their personal value, no matter how different one child is from another. This means that, from the very beginning, they experience equality as equal value and derive feelings of happiness from this. Childhood is therefore the origin of this striving for happiness and equality and, in human history, this was due to mothers and these maternal values, as is still the case today, individually with every mother who has the same attitude for her children and their needs. For without this no child …
(Audio) Initiation of Goddess by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

Inanna 3000 B.C.E., Hallie Iglehart Austen, The Heart of the Goddess, p.75. This is an edited recording of a radio program, from a twelve part series named Re-membering the Great Mother, authored and put to air by Glenys Livingstone in 1994, for 2BLU-FM 89.1, community radio in the Blue Mountains, Australia. I created this radio series after a personal shattering and underworld journey, as I re-created myself and embarked more fully on the path of Goddess. All of the sponsorship advertisements have been edited out, and also most of the music, for copyright reasons mostly, though some remnants remain for artistic purpose: those remnants are several seconds of each of: Hymn to Her by The Pretenders, Ignacio by Vangelis, and Strange Paradise by Chris Williamson. I also edited out an interview with Shamana Reed-Maiwald, which had been part of the program. Reference: Houston, Jean. The Search for the Beloved. Los Angeles: Jeremy P. Tarcher, 1987.
(Art Prose) Painting for the Earth by Jassy Watson

I have spoken about the social responsibility of the artist on numerous occasions. This blog approaches a similar topic but in direct relation to using art as a potent tool for change and as a platform for raising awareness of important environmental and ecological issues that all of humanity is currently faced with. All forms of art have the potential to be tools for healing and transformation. I believe that through the creative process the relationship with self and the environment can be transformed. Why? Because when creative work is approached from a place of passion and purpose and art is brought to life with intention, great shifts can occur, not only for the artist, but also for the viewer. I believe wholeheartedly that I can approach the canvas and paint intentionally to deepen my connection to my inner and outer landscapes, and in doing so inspire others to deepen and honour a connection to the earth creatively. There are many contemporary artists who are agents of environmental change and who are using their creative gifts and talents to build awareness and provoke thought through their work and process. Many artists, such as myself, are working with transformative approaches and processes towards a new vision that is ecological and participates with the living cycles of nature. Many topics are approached such as ocean health, climate change, water quality, recycling, water purification, natural disasters, de-forestation, endangered species and more. Artists today are finding all sorts of inventive ways to call attention to the problems facing our environment, as corporate greed and profit impose destruction on our planet. While each artist works very differently and explores diverse territories, they share awareness about the critical loss of natural resources and a desire to save the planet from human destruction. Take the words of Nigerian painter Jerry Buhari: “Today the talk of the world is about an endangered Earth. One often wonders how much of the talk is backed with genuine concern and the will to take positive steps. But it should not surprise the world that artists are in the forefront of the discussion on the environment.” Eco-feminist artist Ann T. Rosenthal and activist artist Steffi Domike have been collaborating on environmental installations for years. Their wall installation, Watermark: Wood, Coal, Oil, Gas (2011), consists of four panels that illustrate an evolutionary timeline of energy resources—wood, coal, oil and natural gas. Dominique Mazeau is a poet and artist from Santa Fe, New Mexico. She has made an exquisite journal of poems and drawings of cleaning up the Rio Grande River over many years. She has made sculptures from the trash and she teaches school children about the river with her poems and her art. There are many more Eco-feminist and Environmentalist/Activist artists such as Charla Puryear and Helene Aylon using their art to raise awareness of ecological issues. These few examples alone demonstrate that art, in its myriad of forms, has the capacity to effect positive change on the earth and its environments. Artists are catalysts for change, and this “change” takes place when we feel deeply for a precious cause. I feel deeply for the state of the earth and feel that it is largely humanity’s spiritual disconnection from the earth and from the earth as sentient that has contributed to the current state of not only the health of the earth body, but also the health of our bodies. Coming up in October 2016 I will be presenting an exhibition ‘Voices for the Earth’ in Bundaberg, Queensland, Australia. This exhibition will feature the works of select regional artists who are using their art to speak for the earth. It is held in conjunction with RONA-16-Earth Arts Festival as part of the The Rights of Nature Tribunal that is taking place the same month. Artists of all genres from around Australia are participating in creative activities to raise awareness of the urgency required to make the necessary changes that the health of the planet becomes an absolute priority. I know that more has to be done, and some might see ‘art’ as a hedonist, self-absorbed way to attempt to bring about change – but the power of image should NEVER be underestimated. I am Painting for the earth. This Earth is my sister I love her daily grace Her silent daring And how loved I am. How we admire this strength in each other All that we have lost All that we have found We are stunned by this beauty, And I do not forget What She is to me And what I am to Her. (from Susan Griffin, Woman and Nature – The Roaring Inside Her, p.219, caps added). See Meet Mago Contributor Jassy Watson.
(Art poem) Placenta Encapsulation by Paula Lietz

lying within earth’s immortal womb moist muscle pulsating I laboured to be smaller she implored me to be mightier contractions fierce she carried me upon the wayward wave all wretchedness of mankind readying for the next stricken swell all humanities aspirations I began to pant she swathed me in soothing winds and upon my cracked lips dabbed uncivilized raindrops flavoured in rainbows bathed me with rays of sun and murmured with conviction ~ believe spent I lay there vulnerable releasing others expectations and more important, those of my own automatically I reached for the umbilical cord, now dried, dust to dust corpus uteri I had become instinctively protective gathering the daisies, art, clouds, the witty the children and the lonely within my universal womb who was nourishing who now did not matter all I had to do was believe published 2013 May Beautiful Women Unleashed by Lipstick Press Beautiful Women Unleashed from Lipstick Press Meet Mago Contributor Paula Lietz.

(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?
(Special Post 2) 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.] Harriet Ann Ellenberger I got involved with women’s liberation in the early 1970s, so involved that it became my life for many years. During those beginnings of what is now called “the second wave of feminism,” everything was new to us and everything was mushed together — the political, the economic, the intellectual, the emotional, the spiritual. I liked that a lot; it felt as if all the parts of myself were coming together. During that time, I learned something crucial the imagery and concepts of patriarchal religion justify and are embedded in the material structures of oppression. I don’t know which came first, institutionalized oppression (of everyone; I’m not speaking here only of women) or the religious expression of that oppression. All I’m certain of is that patriarchal religion permeates, for example, the Oxford English Dictionary, which I use all the time, in conjunction with Websters’ First New Intergalactic Wickedary of the English Language, conjured by Mary Daly in cahoots with Jane Caputi.
(Special Post) BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE FOR EL PASO ARTIST MARIO COLÍN by Donna Snyder

Born in Juárez in 1959, Mario Colín lived his entire life in the Five Points area of Central El Paso, where he attended Houston Elementary and Austin High School. From the age of fifteen, he worked as a construction worker, building silos and other large construction projects across the U.S.A., at some point hitch hiking from the Pacific coast to the Atlantic shores. In his late twenties, he began to focus all his attention and energy on art, which had been an interest since early childhood, working as a muralist and portrait painter. Much of his art is of a religious nature, although he also painted secular art, portraits, and historical scenes. Colín painted his first mural of the Virgin of Guadalupe in collaboration with deceased artist Chuck Zavala in 1987 at Esparza’s Grocery, a small store in Central El Paso. It has now become a shrine, with community members building a stone arch and bringing flowers and candles, and has been pronounced a religious site by the parish church. Since that first mural, Colín has painted over 40 pieces of public art, many of which have become landmarks. Many of those murals are in that same Central El Paso neighborhood, on or near Piedras, including the House of Pizza, Los Alamos Grocery, The Elbo Room bar, the former Sanitary Plumbing at Piedras and Fort Boulevard. Colín twice painted a 25 foot mural of the Virgin of Guadalupe, at Alameda and Zaragoza, across from the Ysleta mission. The first version, painted in 1997, became decayed, but was a popular landmark. That mural has appeared in periodicals, art books, calendars, many newspaper articles, and in photographs exhibited in the El Paso Art Museum and galleries. In 2004, Señor José Villalobos donated and members of the community contributed money to pay laborers to replaster the wall of the century-old adobe building where it is located, and Colín repainted the entire mural for donations from passers-by and community members. Colín’s work has also been featured on the International History Channel and Canal 44, XHUI TV, in a Ford television commercial, and numerous times in the El Paso Times and the defunct El Paso Herald-Post, as well as in periodicals such as Texas Monthly, Dallas Morning News, Texas Observer, Austin American Statesman, Stanton Street magazine; literary journals such as Mezcla and GypsyMag.com; in documentaries including Walls that Speak: El Paso’s Murals, directed by Jim Klaes; in art books such as Colors on Desert Walls: The Murals of El Paso and Texas 24:7, and in various editions of Chicano Studies: Survey and Analysis, a text book used throughout the country.

Beltaine/High Spring within the Creative Cosmos by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an edited excerpt from Chapter 8 of the author’s new book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. Traditionally the dates for Beltaine/High Spring are: Southern Hemisphere – October 31st or 1st November Northern Hemisphere – April 30th (May Eve) or 1st May though the actual astronomical date varies. It is the meridian point or cross-quarter day between Spring Equinox and Summer Solstice, thus actually a little later in early November for S.H., and early May for N.H., respectively. The twin fires lit in older times on hilltops in Ireland for Beltaine likely represented the two eyes of night and day.[i] With this vision, Goddess as Sun and Moon sees Her Land, and with the power of Her eyes (Sun and Moon) brings forth life and beauty. With the fire eyes, Goddess“reoccupied and saw her whole land…”[ii] The twin fires later came to be used to run cattle between as they headed out to Summer pasture, for the purpose of burning off the bugs and ticks of Winter; the fires may thus be understood to serve a cleansing effect and likely the origins of the tradition of the ceremonial leaping of flames by participants in Beltaine festivities. In PaGaian Cosmology this is poetically expressed as the Flame of Love that burns away the psyche’s “bugs and ticks,” and sees the Beauty present, and calls it forth. The Beltaine flames may be a celebration of Sun entering into the eye, into the whole bodymind: a powerful creative evocation upon which the Dance of Life depends, and as the cleansing power of love and pleasure. PaGaian focus for Beltaine is on the Holy Desire/Passion for life, and it may be accounted for on as many levels as possible … the complete holarchy/dimensions of the erotic power. On an elemental level, there is our desire for Air, Water, the warmth of Fire, and to be of use/service to Earth. There is an essential longing, sometimes nameless, sometimes constellated, experienced physically, that may be recognized as the Desire of the Universe Herself – desiring in us.[iii] We may remember that we are united in this desire with each other, with all who have gone before us, and with all who come after us – all who dance the Dance of Life. Beltaine is a time for dancing and weaving into our lives, our heart’s desires; traditionally the dance is done with participants holding ribbons attached to a pole or tree (a Maypole in the Northern Hemisphere, which may be renamed as a “Novapole” in the Southern Hemisphere), wrapping the pole with the ribbons. This is not simply the heterosexual metaphor as is thought in modern times (thanks largely to Freudian thinking) – it is deeper than that. As Caitlin and John Matthews point out: it is symbolic of a far greater exchange than that between men and women – in fact between the elements themselves. … the maypole, a comparatively recent manifestation in the history of mystery celebrations, can be seen as the linking of heaven and earth, binding those who dance around it … into a pattern of birth, life and death which lay at the heart of the maze of earth mysteries.[iv] Beltaine is a celebration of Desire on all levels – microcosm and on the macrocosm, the exoteric and the esoteric.[v] It brought you forth physically, and it brings forth all that you produce in your life, and it keeps the Cosmos spinning. It is felt in you as Desire, it urges you on. It is the deep awesome dynamic that pervades the Cosmos and brings forth all things – babies, meals, gardens, careers, books and solar systems. We have often been taught, certainly by religious traditions, to pay it as little attention as possible; whereas it should be the cause of much more meditation/attention, tracing it to its deepest place in us. What are our deepest desires beneath our surface desires. What if we enter more deeply into this feeling, this power? It may be a place where the Universe is a deep reciprocity – a receiving and giving that is One. Brian Swimme says, in a whole chapter on “Allurement”: You can examine your own self and your own life with this question: Do I desire to have this pleasure? Or rather, do I desire to become pleasure? The demand to ‘have,’ to possess, always reveals an element of immaturity. To keep, to hold, to control, to own; all of this is fundamentally a delusion, for our own truest desire is to be and to live. We have ripened and matured when we realize that our own deepest desire in erotic attractions is to become pleasure … to enter ecstatically into pleasure so that giving and receiving pleasure become one simple activity. Our most mature hope is to become pleasure’s source and pleasure’s home simultaneously. So it is with the allurements of life: we become beauty to ignite the beauty of others.[vi] Beltaine is a good time to contemplate this animal bodymind that you are: how it seeks real pleasure. What is your real pleasure? Be gracious with this bodymind and in awe of this form, this wonder. Beltaine is also a good time to contemplate light, and its affects on our bodyminds as it enters into us; how our animal bodyminds respond directly to the Sun’s light, which apparently may awaken physical desires. Light vibrates into us – different wavelengths as different colours – and shifts to pulse. It is felt most fully in Springtime (“spring fever”), as light courses down a direct neural line from retina to pineal gland. When the pineal gland receives the light pulse it releases “a cascade of hormones, drenching the body in hunger, thirst, or great desire.”[vii] We respond directly to Sun as an organism: it is primal. NOTES: [i] Michael Dames, Ireland, 195-199. [ii] Ibid., 196. [iii] I have been inspired and informed by Swimme’s articulations about desire, particularly in Canticle to the Cosmos, video 2 “The Primeval Fireball,” video 5 “Destruction and Loss,” and video 10 “The Timing of Creativity.” [iv] Matthews, The Western Way, 54. And for more, see “Creativity …
(Essay and Video) Cosmogenesis Dance: Celebrating Her Unfolding by Glenys Livingstone

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

Photography by Sara Wright I gaze out my bedroom window and hear yet another golden apple hit the ground. The vines that hug the cabin and climb up the screens are heavy with unripe grapes and the light that is filtered through the trees in front of the brook is luminous – lime green tipped in gold – My too sensitive eyes are blessedly well protected by this canopy of late summer leaves. The maples on the hill are losing chlorophyll and are painting the hollow with splashes of bittersweet orange and red. The dead spruces by the brook will probably collapse this winter providing Black bears with even more precious ants and larvae to eat in early spring. I only hope that some bears will survive the fall slaughter to return to this black bear sanctuary; in particular two beloved young ones… Mushrooms abound, amanitas, boletes morels, puff balls, the latter two finding their way into my salads. The forest around my house is in an active state of becoming with downed limbs and sprouting fungi becoming next year’s soil. The forest floor smells so sweet that all I can imagine is laying myself down on a bed of mosses to sleep and dream. The garden looks as tired as I am; lily fronds droop, yellowing leaves betraying the season at hand. Bright green pods provide a startling contrast to fading scarlet bee balm. Wild asters are abundant and goldenrod covers the fields with a bright yellow garment. Every wild bush has sprays of berries. My crabapple trees are bowed, each twig heavy with winter fruit. Most of the birds have absconded to the fields that are ripe with the seeds of wild grasses. The mourning doves are an exception – they gather together each dawn waiting patiently for me to fill the feeder. In the evening I am serenaded by soft cooing. One chicken hawk hides in the pine, lying in wait for the unwary…Just a few hummingbirds remain…whirring wings and twittering alert me to continued presence as they settle into the cherry tree to sleep, slipping into a light torpor with these cool September nights… Spiders are spinning their egg cases, even as they prepare to die. I can still find toads hopping around the house during the warmest hours of the day. Although the grass is long I will not mow it for fear of killing these most precious and threatened of species. I am heavily invested in seeing these toads burrow in to see another spring. My little frogs sit on their lily pads seeking the warmth of a dimming afternoon sun. Soon they too will slumber below fallen leaves or mud. I am surrounded by such beauty, and so much harvest bounty that even though I am exhausted I take deep pleasure out of each passing day of this glorious month of September, the month of my birth. Unlike many folks, for me, moving into the dark of the year feels like a blessing. Another leave -taking is almost upon me, and I am having trouble letting go of this small oasis that I have tended with such care for more than thirty years… I don’t know what this winter will bring to my modest cabin whose foundation is crumbling under too much moisture and too many years of heavy snow. In the spring extensive excavation will begin. A new foundation must be poured and this work will destroy the gardens I have loved, the mossy grounds around the south end of the house that I have nurtured for so long. In this season of letting go I must find a way to lay down my fears, and release that which I am powerless to change. Somehow… I have no idea what I will return to except that I have made it clear that none of my beloved trees be harmed. I am grateful that Nature is mirroring back to me so poignantly that letting go is the way through: That this dying can provide a bedrock foundation for another spring birth. As a Daughter of the Earth I lean into ancient wisdom, praying that this exhausted mind and body will be able to follow suit. (Meet Mago Contributor) Sara Wright.

(Essay 1) Magos, Muses, and Matrikas: The Magoist Cosmogony and Gynocentric Unity by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D.

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

https://www.youtube.com/watch?list=PL-hbgxa5v1IfUM6h6PvOTpLe8fLv5ExRG&v=HUM6EQ7sEaQ
(Mago Essay 3) Toward the Primordial Knowing of Mago, the Great Goddess by Helen Hwang

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

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