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

(Art) Three Golden Rings by Jassy Watson

She emerges into full bloom at Spring and is reminded of the circle of life and her part within it.

September 11, 2017October 2, 2019 RTMeditorsKG2 Comments

(Essay) Sacred Datura Sings in the Rain by Sara Wright

Last night I was sitting on the porch listening to the rain. The sweet scent of water wafted in through the open window as the song Tree of Life was Read More …

August 28, 2017October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Poem) Can You Hear? by Jhilmil Breckenridge

A breeze wafts over ribbons and police barricades. Ambulances flash red but I cannot hear their wails. I see a woman’s back heave, her red dupatta1 fallen. A young girl Read More …

August 26, 2017October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Meet Mago Contributor) Meghanaiyegee Venketasamy (Megha)

Meghanaiyegee Venketasamy (Megha), a daughter born and raised in Mauritius – an island loaded with a deep legacy of slavery, colonization, people of colors from around the globe. Such diversity Read More …

August 23, 2017October 2, 2019 Mago Work Admin1 Comment

(Art) Coming of Age by Jassy Watson

This image tells the story of a girl’s journey to womanhood. Grandmother, Mother and maiden make

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 18, 2017October 2, 2019 Mago Work Admin1 Comment

(Poem) Daffodils by Andrea Nicki

Their heads hang low from weeks of battering rain. They must find it hard to trust, meet the gaze of the new sun. Still, they hold their mouths open– a Read More …

August 17, 2017October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Book Announcement 3) Celebrating Seasons of the Goddess by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D. & Mary Ann Beavis, Ph.D.

Available now @ Mago Bookstore. Editors: Helen Hye-Sook Hwang and Mary Ann Beavis Introduction (continued) SOCIAL MEDIA AND GODDESS FEMINIST ACTIVISM The wheel of Goddess feminist activism by nature stands 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 15, 2017October 2, 2019 Mago Work Admin1 Comment

(Visual Art) Matrix by Lena Bartula

Matrix is best described as ‘something in which something else develops or forms.’ Also described as ‘something shaped like a pattern of lines and spaces.’

August 10, 2017October 2, 2019 Mago Work Admin3 Comments

(Essay) The August Moon and the Virgin Mary by Harita Meenee

To a Greek person, the word “August” brings two things to mind. One is the August moon. Captivating and erotic, we observe it with awe as it spreads its glow Read More …

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

(Book Announcement 2) Celebrating Seasons of the Goddess by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D. & Mary Ann Beavis, Ph.D.

Forthcoming 2017 by Mago Books. Editors: Helen Hye-Sook Hwang and Mary Ann Beavis Below from Introduction READING CELEBRATING SEASONS OF THE GODDESS Mary Ann Beavis As co-editor of this volume, Read More …

July 20, 2017October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Book Announcement 1) Celebrating Seasons of the Goddess by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D. & Mary Ann Beavis, Ph.D.

Forthcoming 2017 by Mago Books. Editors: Helen Hye-Sook Hwang and Mary Ann Beavis Celebrating Seasons of the Goddess restores the original vision of celebrating cultural and natural landmarks from the Read More …

(Poem) We Belong Here by Mary Saracino

Mesa at Jemez Springs, New Mexico, photo credit: Mary Saracino We belong here. The seeds we sow, the harvest we reap create our cultural legacy, rooted in ancient memories of plants, and place, and people, woven together by time and heritage. We are of this earth, made of soil and soul. We are of this land, as much a part of it as the stones and trees, the sky and water. We share our stories to remember, bequeathing our inheritance to our sons and daughters, honoring our gifts, celebrating our intergenerational bonds. We belong here, and here belongs to us, our blood and bones, our minds and hearts, our eyes and hands, our sweat and tears, blessing the fields and one another forever and ever and ever. https://www.magoism.net/2013/05/meet-mago-contributor-mary-saracino
(Art) Fairies Dancing at Beltane (with Village Witch) by Eileen Haley
(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.
(Poem) This Time by Melissa La Flamme

“To passively accept an unjust system is to cooperate with that system, and thereby to become a participant in its evil.” —Martin Luther King This time, we resist the reflex to normalize what dehumanizes, corrupts the core of the soul of a nation in distress.
(Poem & Music) Sunrise at Good Water by Carolyn Lee Boyd

2019 Photo by Carolyn Lee Boyd 2019 Music by Carolyn Lee Boyd [Author’s Note: Some of my ancestors came to America after leaving their homeland in Scotland to go to Ireland, then to America to wander for more generations across a number of mountainous states, earning their living as small farmers in some of the most remote areas in their region. They finally ended up in a small town called Goodwater in the early 20th century. This poem is my imagined thoughts of one of my women ancestors as she shows her newborn daughter the glory of the sunrise to connect her to the Mother Earth and Cosmos Who was their only true home throughout their wanderings. The song is an original tune I composed and play on the Appalachian dulcimer, a folk instrument of the mountains easily carried from place to place.] Newest daughter born last night with help from no one but me We are far too high on the mountain for midwives or witches. The youngest of a long line of family who came from Scotland to Ireland to Pennsylvania to North Carolina to Georgia to Alabama Always hoping in vain to be able to tell the next generation You will always have a cabin to live in. You will always have food on the table. You and your children and grandchildren will live long lives. You will always live in peace. Newest daughter born last night with help from no one but meI cannot promise you that You will always have a cabin to live in. You will always have food on the table. You and your children and grandchildren will live long lives. You will always live in peace. But I can give you this moment of quiet before the dawn And this song to remind you Of your first morning with the stars and the Earth and the sun. They are all you or anyone will ever truly have. Always remember their loving sound when all around you is cacophony. And that they are magnificent. Biography: Carolyn Lee Boyd is a writer, student drummer, retired human services administrator, and herb and native plant gardener, currently living in New England. Her essays, short stories, memoirs, reviews, and poetry have been published in, among others, Return to Mago E*Magazine, Sagewoman, Feminism and Religion, The Goddess Pages, Matrifocus, and The Beltane Papers, and various anthologies. She would love for you to visit her at her website, www.goddessinateapot.com where you can find some of her free e-books to download as well as contact her. Photo: Copyright 2019 Carolyn Lee Boyd Music: Copyright 2019 Carolyn Lee Boyd https://www.magoism.net/2016/08/meet-mago-contributor-carolyn-lee-boyd/
(Meet Mago Contributor) Nicole Rain Sellers

Nicole Rain Sellers lives in Newcastle, Australia. Her writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Plumwood Mountain, Spiral Nature, Watermark, Crossroads, Silver Cord, Emerald Egg, The Enchanting Verses, Three Drops from a Cauldron, Heroic Fantasy Quarterly, and the anthologies Grieve 6, Zodiac Tales, and The Story Hunters. For more about her work visit https://www.nicolerainsellers.com/
(Prose & Photography) Fern Hollow by Sara Wright

Photo by Sara Wright I awaken to the common yellowthroat warbler’s song. A light breeze wafts through the open window intensifying the scent of wild honeysuckle. Phoebe chimes in followed by Ovenbird, another warbler. Mama phoebe takes flight from her nest as I open the door. I peer out into emerald green – sweetly scented hay ferns define the edges of the mixed conifer and deciduous forest that overlooks a mountain brook. My home. A canopy of leafy limed branches protects the house from what will become fierce heat from the noonday star… summer is almost upon us. But not just yet. For now I am still living in the space in between. Fern hollow is an edge place, etched out of olive and jade. Seduced by moist air, stillness and dove gray cloud cover I follow my Forest Muse wandering down to the protected field through the pines. The mountains are still shrouded in mist. Lupine spires and lemon lilies peek out above a raft of sensitive ferns. Deep blue iris startle sensitive eyes. I breathe in the intoxicating aroma of the last flowering crabapple as I examine unfurling ostrich ferns. Always the spiral. The Wild Goddess lives here. Once, just after I moved here, She rose up out of the field to embrace me, told me that I was loved… She spoke through pure feeling in that place beneath words. Now She comes to me through the trees… Approaching the brook I experience a momentary chill. The noticeable drop in temperature is due to the spreading boughs of the Eastern Hemlocks who protect this brook (as well as other streams and rivers) from warming, so that trout can thrive. These remarkable trees slow summer storm run off, purify waters, add nitrogen to the soil through their needles, and create a moist microclimate that supports rich avian and plant diversity. As if to confirm my thoughts the call of a Blackburnian warbler reminds me that some warblers will only nest in this particular tree. Because of their trunks tendency to split, loggers left the “redwoods of the east” behind, and some hemlocks are probably 150 years old (maybe older) although this forest was cut about 40 years ago, primarily for white pine. Hemlocks can live for 500 years or more. Because they are the most shade tolerant trees of all hemlocks can survive on the moist banks of rivers and streams for many years waiting for the moment when enough light penetrates the forest floor; then they shoot up spreading their graceful boughs wide enough to create a cool understory where tender wildflowers thrive, and deer and rabbit browse. Another warbler is singing, a high – pitched fluted call, this one is a black throated blue warbler. Migration is winding down and I wonder how many of these birds will actually stay to nest and raise young. Taking another path up the hill I drift back into that space of belonging, my animal senses stilling all thought. Green Peace. Approaching Trillium rock I am once again pulled into mind, reflecting upon how quickly golden lime brocade moss covered the entire boulder once a few dead trees came down. Starflowers adorn brocade, the same moss that phoebe used to construct and line her nest… A morning dove is calling in the distance. Mourning and Morning belong together. Just as Thinking and Being do – humans are capable of moving back and forth between the two, but because being is not honored we must re- learn how to do the latter. One way to frame living through difficult and uncertain times is to perceive oneself as Entering the Mystery (Martin Shaw). When I align myself with the rest of nature I lose myself in the mysterious, utterly fascinating present, develop strength to go parallel with what is, and can give thanks with all my heart for the gift of being alive. (Meet Mago Contributor) Sara Wright https://www.magoism.net/2014/12/meet-mago-contributor-sara-wright/
(Meet Mago Contributor) Diane Goldie

c.Art is the creative baby of Diane Goldie: artist, obsessive maker, feminist, puppeteer and poet. Born in Nottinghamshire in the early 60s, before emigrating to South Africa in 1975, where she received her art training and love of vibrant colours and tribal aesthetic, Diane has turned her hand to most crafts and arts over her 50 years on the planet, delighting in the quirky and oddball: crocheting strange anthropomorphic creatures and performance artists as well as sewing fetuses from cotton jersey. Diane spent her early years as a scenic artist, copying Old Masters as part of her daily job before returning to the UK and then spent the next 25 years delighting London’s children as a puppeteer. Then Diane met the inspirational Sue Kreitzman and her world changed. Now wearable art has taken front stage and Diane has closed those red velvet puppet show curtains for the last time . Through the medium of painting, embroidering and appliqueing onto vibrant African prints, Diane aims to take art from the gallery walls and bring it to the street in the form of wearable art and personal creative expression of style, which is perfectly embodied in the form of the wonderful Sue Kreitzman, who has become c.Art’s most valued client and inspirational friend. Being able to interpret sensitively the work of other artists and turn it into clothing for them to wear, is a great privilege and joy. Seeing people’s dreams of clothing become reality and witnessing their faces on seeing their ideas made into unique garments, is something that will continue to fuel Diane’s creative pursuits under the brand c.Art.
(Prose & Art 2) The Goddess: The Foundation of My Spirituality by Noris Binet

Mitogenesis by Noris Binet The Alchemy of Revelations through our Dreams The avenue where I found a direct path to the realm of the creative matrix of the great Mother Goddess is through the alchemy of my dreams. As we descend inwardly into the unconscious layers beneath our usual mind activity the Goddess appears in many forms and shapes taking us to the deepest transformative embodiment of her own nature. I do not have the words to explain this amazing journey as only through experiencing it for oneself can this process be understood completely. But the archetypal forces that come to us in our dreams can reveal the rich, rebirthing capacity that is totally accessible to each of us. The dream world is the ground upon which everything transformative may happen and actually everything does happen. I had a dream around twenty-five years ago, while living in Nashville, when I was deeply engaged in my own inner journey. I had been working with dreams and art. In this particular dream I saw the image of a heart with a very small cross underneath it and I heard a disembodied voice say to me, “In the future the heart will become more important than the cross, and the cross will be much smaller supporting the heart underneath.” The voice continued, “You need to wear this symbol on the left arm for your protection and that this was La Santisima, Most Holy.” The dream was surprising and even shocking to me and as I began working with its symbolical meaning it became clear that it contained a very important message and that I needed to act promptly to create a piece of art work that could embody the energy of the dream. This is the painting that emerged. Along with the painting I felt compelled, as instructed in the dream, to somehow display the symbol on my left side, but to protect me from what? And to protect what? I became aware that the left side of the body is coordinated by the right side of the brain, performing tasks that have to do with creativity, artistic awareness, imagination, intuition, insights, holistic thought, music awareness and three-dimensional forms all characteristics of the feminine nature. I realized that my artistic creative work was challenged in many ways and that I needed to protect my work in the community of supporting women in their creative endeavors, and nurturing them in their dreams, rituals and ceremonies. This was the time in my life where my most important commitment was to feminism and activism for reclaiming the sacredness of the feminine. There were people (in this Bible-belt part of the country) who were not happy or excited about what I was doing, my work was challenging and misunderstood by people in power and by a sector of the media. There were a couple of newspaper articles questioning my feminist tendencies as an obsolete endeavor. Until that moment I didn’t see my work as something that would be attacked simply because I was addressing women issues and supporting women’s creative and spiritual manifestations. The articles really caught my attention. In 1991 before this dream I created the non-profit organization Women on the Inner Journey Foundation for building bridges racially and culturally though art and spirituality, to educate the community about women’s unique spiritual life. A spirituality not confined to a church service but existing everywhere from home altars to rituals and ceremonies in the woods. Part of the Foundation’s early work was the creation of public art displays. Our first exhibit, Reaching the Spirit, was a collection of eighteen altars from different spiritual traditions and orientations ranging from Catholic to Wicca and Native American and more, each unique altar created by an African-American or Anglo woman from the Nashville area. Some of the women participating felt that they were coming out of the closet in such a way that they were concerned that the whole community might condemn, demonize, and even accuse them of witchcraft. This fear surprised me as I viewed the exhibit merely as a natural celebration of women spirituality that needed to be shared to educate the community. The image of freedom and an avant-garde culture that I had of the United States began to be undermined. Despite the negative articles and the concern of some of the artists, I felt that we were ready to take on the risk. If we didn’t do it then, when this feminine energy in Nashville was bubbling up below the surface, then when? It was at this point when I became aware that this was the work I had come to this country to do, bringing with me a heritage (that I wasn’t conscious of it until that moment) of a spiritual foundation rooted in women’s altars as a manifestation of the embodiment of sacredness. What could be more important than this? I choose the name Reaching the Spirit for the exhibit because it had now become apparent that in this culture women had been denied of their spiritual capacity to embody sacredness and create sacred spaces publicly. In the woods surrounding Nashville away from public view, however, I had found diverse groups of ordinary women exercising their own unique capacity to be in sync with nature and with life itself unfolding as a spiritual practice. Every altar revealed the spiritual depth of each one of these women and their capacity to bring a unique energy of nurturing while embracing their individual diversity. During the opening night before the public was scheduled to arrive we all gathered in a circle with the clear commitment to stand by our altars as sacred spaces where everyone could be nurtured, get drunk by the beauty and rejoice in a deep embrace. To our extraordinary surprise the gallery was packed with a constant stream of people for over four hours. The owners of the others galleries around the area came rushing to our gallery to experience for themselves what …

(Special Post Mother Teresa 2) A Role Model for Women? by Mago Circle Members

[Editorial Note: The following is an edited version of the discussion that took place spontaneously on Mago Circle from March 1, 2013 for about two weeks. It was an extensive, heated, yet reflective discussion, now broken into four parts to fit the format of the blog. We thank each and all of the participants for your openness, generosity, and courage to stand up for what you believe and think! Some are marked as anonymous. As someone stated, something may have been “written in the heat of the moment” and some might like to change it at a later time. So we inform our readers that nothing is written in stone. As a matter of fact, the discussion is ongoing, now with Magoism Blog readers. Please comment and respond as you wish.] Part II: We Disagree! Stand up for what you believe but be open-minded! Naa Ayele Kumari: I am going to step away from the common responses and say this… Binary is only no in betweens if you choose sides and can’t see the whole. I have been a part of black consciousness movements and women’s movements and both have the capacity for progress as well as extreme viewpoints. Both have the capacity to become so hypercritical that the movement itself transcends common human compassion and understanding. Mother Teresa was a human being with flaws and goodness. She had a public image and private fears and insecurities.. l like all of us. She lived her life the best way she knew how.. Like all of us. She made mistakes.. misjudgments.. Like all of us. But she also DID help and inspire others to help too. It is this dualistic thinking that forces people to feel like they have to assign the label of good or bad and no in between. None of us are all good or all bad.. so it seems to me that to label her has an evil traitor who let people die is no better than labeling her an Angel of god who did no wrong. She was a woman who lived her life and managed to come to worldwide fame and inspire others to love at a time and in an institution that was highly patriarchal and women were not raised up at all. Mother Goddesses in Africa were known for great nurturing and care symbolized by carrying a baby and also carried a machete on the other side for justice. This was the fine balance of wholeness…she was the gentle rain and the storm.. This was binary, but not one or the other but both.. Opposite ends of the same pole. [H]: I’m having a powerful visceral effect from this conversation. I feel as if I’m going to vomit violently. Mother Teresa comes to me in dreams and meditations. Makes me wonder what kind of person I’m seen as if I attract her energy. I have always felt so much love for her. Naa Ayele Kumari: If she comes in your dreams and it has been healing for you… Allow it/ her to continue to be healing for you. Its all about love and anything that is not love… Leave it be.. Vomiting is rejecting something that doesn’t belong with you. Embrace love my sister. Antonia McGuire: I think we may all agree that all belief systems initially began to promote a sense of goodness or fairness to some degree, but over time they are corrupted and produce both advantages and disadvantages. Donna Snyder: Yes, Gandhi, too. Back in the 90’s when I was in a band/performance art troupe called Central Nervous System, I shocked all the guys in the band coming out with an improv in response to a melody played on a banjo tuned like a sitar, called exactly that-Yes, Gandhi. Now make no mistake, he is one of my heroes, devoid of the falsified sentimentality that clings to MT. Gandhi’s work was for the world, for the masses, not for the appropriately humbled. Yet I spoke out about his sexual practices, his use of female bodies. Telling the truth about a hero requires courage. Retreating into a blind defense of a myth is a form of ethical cowardice. Anne Wilkerson Allen: Strangely I had a discussion with someone about the “hero’s journey” moving from metaphorical to physical being part of the problem…..when the “demons” are human instead of our own flaws, there seems to be a tendency to point the finger (and gun barrel) elsewhere. [B]: Fascinating & thought-provoking conversation, all. I think the biggest stumbling block I have with MT is how her acceptance of the dogma of the Catholic church blinded her to seeing and then being moved by the suffering of others enough to do something to alleviate & not vicariously celebrate it. No wonder she “suffered a lack of connection with the Divine”. This crisis with her spirituality seems to have been divorced from her and others’ body wisdom. Self-abnegation (perhaps not the same as “sacrifice”) ultimately backfires because some small part of us insists, “I am worthy!” To which I say, “We are all worthy!” [H]: I do not see or feel that she vicariously celebrated the suffering of others. I feel that she devoted her life to deeply loving and serving the poorest of the poor. I have not been to Calcutta and I have also seen some unimaginable poverty in India that is not like anything that I’ve been exposed to before. I truly believe that she had a very deep way of working with suffering that is not necessarily visible to those more accustomed to modern medical intervention and the resources available for such. I have participated in a very small amount of poverty medicine and the resources that we take for granted are just not readily available to MANY. I learned very powerfully from my experience how blessed and fortunate and often very careless we really are with our precious resources. This discussion has been a learning experience for me. I am trying to not take the critical comments […]
(Special Post) Why I choose to be an RTM contributor by Glenys Livingstone

The contribution of my writing to Return to Mago E-Magazine has evolved since it began four years ago, into a deeply mutually enhancing relationship. The time and effort taken to write carefully and in alignment with my heartfelt passions and insights, and then to be able to publish to a receptive audience, has always been rewarding – for me personally and apparently for many who received it.
(Special Post 5) Nine-Headed Dragon Slain by Patriarchal Heroes: A Cross-cultural Discussion by Mago Circle Members

[Editor’s Note: This and the ensuing sequels are a revised version of the discussion that 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 Hye-Sook Hwang: I have come across the origin of the Dokkaebi (image, Heavenly Ruler Chiu, 14th Hanung of Danguk. Chiu represented the Magoist rule aided by her 81 giant sister clan allies (nine groups of Nine Hans) fought Huangdi (Yellow Emperor), one of the ancient rulers of pre-historic China. Chiu is known as the empeor of Guri-guk or Guryeo-guk (Nine Ri State or Nine Ryeo State), which is alternatiely referred to as Goryeo-guk and Goguryeo-guk by East Asians. She was worshipped as the deity of war and remembered/depicted for her helmet made of copper and iron. Records about her war against Hungdi inundates ancient Korean and Chinese texts and myths. About Chiu or Chiyou, it is too complex to discuss here. It is a topic to be treated in its own right. Suffice to say that even some of basic information from Wikipedia is illuminating. “Chiyou (蚩尤) was a tribal leader of the Nine Li tribe (九黎) in ancient China. He is best known as a king who lost against the future Yellow Emperor during the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors era in Chinese mythology. For the Hmong people, Chiyou was a sagacious mythical king. He has a particularly complex and controversial ancestry, as he may fall under Dongyi, Miao or even Man, depending on the source and view. Today, Chiyou is honored and worshipped as the God of War and one of the three legendary founding fathers of China.” “According to the Song dynasty history book Lushi, Chiyou’s surname was Jiang (姜), and he was a descendant of Yandi. According to legend, Chiyou had a bronze head with a metal forehead. He had 4 eyes and 6 arms, wielding terrible sharp weapons in every hand. In some sources, Chiyou had certain features associated with various mythological bovines: his head was that of a bull with two horns, although the body was that of a human. He is said to have been unbelievably fierce, and to have had 81 brothers. Historical sources often described him as ‘cruel and greedy’, as well as ‘tyrannical’. Some sources have asserted that the figure 81 should rather be associated with 81 clans in his kingdom. Chiyou knows the constellations and the ancients spells for calling upon the weather. For example, he called upon a fog to surround Huangdi and his soldiers during the Battle of Zhuolu.” “Chiyou is regarded as a leader of the Nine Li tribe (九黎, RPA White Hmong: Cuaj Li Ntuj) by nearly all sources. However, his exact ethnic affiliations are quite complex, with multiple sources reporting him as belonging to various tribes, in addition to a number of diverse peoples supposed to have directly descended from him. Some sources from later dynasties, such as the Guoyu book, considered Chiyou’s Li tribe to be related to the ancient San miao tribe (三苗). In the ancient Zhuolu Town is a statue of Chiyou commemorating him as the original ancestor of the Hmong people. The place is regarded as the birthplace of the San miao / Miao people, the Hmong being a subgroup of the Miao. In sources following the Hmong view, the “nine Li” tribe is called the “Jiuli” kingdom, Jiuli meaning “nine Li”. Modern Han Chinese scholar Weng Dujian considers Jiuli and San Miao to be Man southerners. Chiyou has also been counted as part of the Dongyi.” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chiyou Above all, her depiction by ancient China is of a pejorative one. As we will see in the next part, she is contrasted with her opponent Huangdi (Yellow Emperor), a triumphantly depicted ancient hero of ancient China. Above Wikipedia. See her images created by ancient Koreans, the middle one in the three figures, depicted as a woman with female breasts, one of Dokkaebi images. There are other records that describe one of her allies. as one adorned with snakes in the head, which reminds me of Medusa. Silla (left), Baekje (Center), Goguryeo (right) http://lasvegaskim.com/Etc_Poem_55.htm Max Dashu: Oe-ri, Buyeo, in the Baekje period. Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: That is where the rooftile at the center is excavated. That is the original image of Dokkaebi that Lydia Ruyle chose and depicted in her banner work. I could not connect this image with Chiu until now. We have the female ruler who subdued the patrilocal force of Yellow Emperor, the forebear of ancientChinese emperors. There are lots of myths and data that I have found on them. Chiu is also numerously depicted as Dokkaebi faces, which makes me think of its connection to the iconography of Medusa and Gorgon (who comes as Three Sisters). Eight-snake-headed Medusahttps://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Medusa Gorgon https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gorgon https://www.magoism.net/2013/06/art-dokkaebi-by-lydia-ruyle/ Lizzy Bluebell: ‘Gonggong’ is not a far stretch phonetically from ‘Gorgon’ – I note. Briefly here – because it is a complex explanation – much more can be said about the etymology. For example, “gorge” relates to deep mountain passes with water flowing through them as well as the human throat or gullet, (relating the word to both speech and eating) and mountains are/were Goddess terrain, later usurped by MON-A-Ster-ies. The masculine name Ge-Orge is code which relates to GE/Gaia/Gay as well as to ‘orgy’. Sanskrit “garg” begets English ‘gargle’, and a guttural (gut-her-all) sound. I’ve always seen the archetypal Medusa/Gorgon’s ‘snaking curls’ as the energy emmitted from her head by her Wild I-Deas, which returns us to the theme of the Pythia/Oracle/Snake connections too. “In Greek mythology, a Gorgon (/ˈɡɔːrɡən/; plural: Gorgons, Ancient Greek: Γοργών/Γοργώ Gorgon/Gorgo) is a female creature. The name derives from the ancient Greek word gorgós, which means “dreadful”, and appears to come from the same root as the Sanskrit word “garğ” (Sanskrit: गर्जन, garjana) which is defined as a guttural sound, similar to the growling of a beast,[1] thus possibly originating as an onomatopoeia. While descriptions of Gorgons vary across Greek literature and occur in the earliest examples of Greek literature, the term commonly refers to any of three sisters […]

(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) Walking with Bb by Sara Wright

Walking with Bb: a story exploring the psychic connection between one woman and her bear. Preface: The black bear – hunting season in Maine is brutal – four months of bear hell – five if one includes the month where hunters can track bears for “practice” with hounds – separate mothers and cubs, terrorize them, tree them and do anything but legally kill them. During the legal slaughter, Hunters bait bears with junk food by putting old donuts etc. in cans and shoot the bear while he or she is eating. Most bears (82 percent) are slaughtered in this manner, the rest are killed by hounding and trapping. The season begins in August and lasts through December. Trapping, by the way, is illegal in every state but Maine. Black bears are hated, and that hatred will, of course, eventually result in their extirpation. I had a shy (male) year old black bear visiting my house this past summer with whom I developed a friendship, and what follows is part of our story: Last Saturday I was walking down the road when I remembered that I had not done my daily “circle of protection” imaging for Bb (standing as he was the day he visited me at the window early in August). When I began to do this another picture of Bb moving on all four feet with his face turned towards mine super-imposed itself over his standing image. I could almost see his expression, but not quite. I didn’t know what this imaging meant beyond that we were communicating in some unknown way, and he was in the area (not a good thing on hunting Saturdays). He had not been coming in most nights and I was worried… That night he came. He is still making nightly visits five days later, the most sequentially consistent visits since September 15th, the day I believed that he had been shot. This experience prompted me to write about telepathy and precognition. It is close to All Hallows and the full Hunter’s moon (Nov 3). I keep listening to Charlie Russell’ story which reminds me that loving bears (especially male bears) is hard, almost a sure recipe for disaster, and that I was not alone in this deep concern for and fear of losing Bb. I can barely stand to remember my other bear losses and I can’t stand feeling them. Even after I wrote about the incident with Bb, the experience seemed to carry a charge that didn’t dissipate. Had I missed something? Next I wrote “Root Healer,” exploring the possibility that as I continued to act as Bb’s “little bear mother” now employing psychic techniques to keep him safe (in some desperation as it was the only means left open to me to protect this very vulnerable yearling), that Bb’s presence might also include a gift for me and that it might involve some kind of root healing for my body because Nature thrives on reciprocity. One idea I missed completely, for it was so obvious. Bb’s image was communicating to me that we were having a psychic conversation in that very moment. It was the first time in three months of imaging protective circles that moved with him that I had confirmation from him that we were communicating effectively in this unknown way. This rarely happens. Normally when I do this kind of work, I just do it. I don’t get direct confirmation that it’s working from the animal itself (except with Lily b). Knowing this helped me make another decision I might not have made so intentionally. The hunting season will last into mid December, and I will be traveling during that last month. I keep thinking that putting actual physical distance between Bb and I might pose more of a threat for his life and I have to remind myself that psychic phenomena are not distance dependent. I should be able to image that protective circle every day and feel that it is working. Bb has already shown me that it can but I fear adding distance because I don’t completely trust my own perceptions.* I suspect believing might be an additional dimension of ensuring success when it comes to psychic protection for this bear. But how do I incorporate belief into a picture that is so clouded with personal/cultural doubt? Half the time I don’t believe myself and virtually no one except Rupert Sheldrake, Iren and Harriet have ever taken my experiences seriously. I have to remind myself that I have done this work many times dealing with doubt and it worked anyway. The point of writing this reflection might be to put me on a new edge of increasing Bb’s odds of survival. If it’s possible that an attitude that embraces believing in what I do could help me protect Bb more effectively until hunting is over and its time for him to den in peace I want to claim it. The question I need to answer now is how to go about moving into a more trusting self as a woman who continues to walk with a bear at her side? The night after I wrote the above paragraph I dream of the doubters in the roles of my parents, and in a friend. I take these dreams seriously as doubters inside me and out. These dreams may be telling me that it is unreasonable to expect me to believe that what I do works when no one else does? The problem with this idea is that on some level I do believe. I feel as if I am walking with this bear, every single day. I think about him constantly. The only thing that got me out of the house yesterday was that he was out of chocolate donuts. Something is intensifying my relationship with Bb although I never see him. I am caught in a field of bear energy and information, perhaps through some version of beauty and the beast. That an archetype is …
(Art & Poem) Spring Equinox by Sudie Rakusin & Annie Finch

A SEED FOR SPRING EQUINOX . . . till I feel the earth around the place my head has lain under winter’s touch, and it crumbles. Slanted weight of clouds. Reaching with my head and shoulders past the open crust dried by spring wind. Sun. Tucking through the ground that has planted cold inside me, made its waiting be my food. Now I watch the watching dark my light’s long-grown dark makes known. Art and poem are included in Celebrating Seasons of the Goddess (Mago Books, 2017). (Meet Mago Contributor) Sudie Rakusin (Meet Mago Contributor) Annie Finch
(Music) Songs for Samhain by Alison Newvine

The season of Samhain is upon us. This playlist is an offering for this descent into the sacred darkness, and a companion for the journey into the underworld. Invocation of Witches features music by Loreena McKennitt, Marya Stark, Inkubus Sukubus, Wendy Rule, my band Spiral Muse, and many others. It is a soundtrack for ceremony and each song expresses a different face of the spirit of the witch. May this Samhain season guide you gently into the dissolution of what no longer serves, the honoring of what is complete and the cultivation of the inner space that will gestate what is yet to come. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2CFNoH9exhloz3w95P3Rlb?si=270cf01fabb8421c https://www.magoism.net/2023/10/meet-mago-contributor-alison-newvine/
(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: …
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/

(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
(Art) Nurture by Anna Tzanova

to feed and protect; to support and encourage; to foster and bring up; to train and educate; to develop and nourish; to care for and cherish… Such a multifaceted and meaningful word! It represents to me an essential quality of the Goddess. An aspect I strive to cultivate within, embody, and express externally. I use it to guide all my actions by asking myself, “Is this nurturing?”; “By doing this, what am I nurturing?” Very often, minds have been conditioned to counterpose nature and nurture, creating not only a divide, but also a controversy. The intrinsic feature of Nature is to nurture. The womb not only births, but nurtures. Nothing can be sustained or achieved without nurture. Nature teaches us the lesson of acceptance. Nurture – the lesson of patience. It also provides the opportunity and freedom of choice. Together, they intertwine and weave the entire Creation. What are you nurturing today? From She Rises: How Goddess Feminism, Activism, and Spirituality? Volume 2 (forthcoming, 2016). See (Meet Mago Contributror) Anna Tzanova.
(Budoji Essay 2) The Magoist Cosmogony by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

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

Category: Spirituality

(Art) Three Golden Rings by Jassy Watson

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(Meet Mago Contributor) Meghanaiyegee Venketasamy (Megha)

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(Art) Coming of Age by Jassy Watson

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(Poem) Daffodils by Andrea Nicki

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(Book Announcement 3) Celebrating Seasons of the Goddess by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D. & Mary Ann Beavis, Ph.D.

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

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(Visual Art) Matrix by Lena Bartula

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(Essay) The August Moon and the Virgin Mary by Harita Meenee

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(Book Announcement 2) Celebrating Seasons of the Goddess by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D. & Mary Ann Beavis, Ph.D.

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(Book Announcement 1) Celebrating Seasons of the Goddess by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D. & Mary Ann Beavis, Ph.D.

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Mago Almanac Year 8 (for 2025)

S/HE: IJGS V3 N2 2024 (B/W Paperback)

S/HE: IJGS V3 N1 2024 (B/W Paperback)

Mago Pod Bulletin #73 November 2024

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