May 10, 2017October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Book Excerpt 1) Single Mothers Speak on Patriarchy by Trista Hendren & Pat Daly

My Very Own Mother’s Day Proclamation Brenna Jean Richart I SOBBED FOR THE FIRST TIME in six months today. Throat aching loud, heaving sobs that come when someone dies. Read More …

(Prose) Mycelial Madness by Sara Wright

Wikimedia Commons For those of us who are dedicated to feminism and to the sanctity of nature, here is one more way to understand the earth as our goddess. Her mysterious veil is the source of all life. Immanence is sacred. Mycelial Madness The last winter I spent in New Mexico I walked to the river every morning in the pre-dawn hour. No matter how much the wind would howl later on, at this time of the day nothing stirred besides the birds. Because I traveled the same path every morning circling round one wetland listening to river songs I would find myself slipping into a light trance as my feet hit the hard unforgiving ground. Every bush, cottonwood, russian olive, juniper was familiar, each was a friend. Although this wetland had been trimmed and paths mowed (parching open ground), the majority of trees, plants and grasses had been left intact and the river was nearby. During these light trance states I sensed that the ground beneath my feet was pulsing with some kind of light; that the earth was trying to communicate with me. At that time I didn’t know that I was walking over of miles of mycelium, because I didn’t know whether these networks extended throughout the desert although I assumed they did. But I felt or sensed something. I knew from trying to garden in NM that the surface of most of the ground seemed quite barren except for the piles of decaying cottonwood bark that I used as mulch, so where was the rest of the mycelium? Later I learned that across arid soils, a thin crust often forms within the top few centimeters of the soil surface as long as that surface is not disturbed. If the land is run over by too many cattle, four wheelers or other machines, mined or otherwise disfigured even by tilling a garden that precious skin will disappear. It takes hundreds or thousands of years to replace this layer of living matter. Surprisingly, this mantle is not exclusively formed from excess minerals, as I first believed, but is created by microscopic and macroscopic organisms that live together – fungi and algae. Whenever it rains, cyanobacteria, formerly called blue-green algae, bacteria, fungi, and other microbes that have been dormant awaken. Freed from drought, these microscopic creatures start making food and creating miniature tunnels as they move through the soil, reproducing as long as the soil is moist. The mucilage around algae filaments keep in the moisture the algae/fungi to thrive. As the soil dries out after rain, the threads of mycelium tightly bind all the soil grains, gluing soil particles together against wind and erosion. The value of this thin, living skin of the desert must not be underestimated. Mycelial fungal threads called hyphae communicate, grow every which way, exchange water and nutrients and store carbon underground. What fascinates me now is that l sensed the presence of these living networks beneath my feet although most were microscopic. Mycelial communication occurs by electrical impulses/electrolytes which emit sparks of light and something in me apparently could feel this pulse emanating through my feet. Fungal networks are the foundation of all life on earth. Four billion years ago alga met fungus as it crept out of the sea. Algae could photosynthesize but it needed fungi to break down nutrients like minerals from rock. The two developed a mutualistic partnership that still exists today. Between the two they create the soil that supports all terrestrial life. In temperate forests like mine here in Maine, billions of mutualistic/symbiotic mycorrhizal mycelial networks are quite visible, often tucked under leaves or threading their way through the forest floor. Pull off a dead piece of bark and you will find these threads, some are patterned like trees or sunbursts – all are beautiful. Wikimedia Commons Often during the spring summer or fall I try to imagine the billions of mycelium that are running under my feet as I walk into my field through the pines, or step across the brook into the cool hemlock forest that is carpeted with a plethora of emerald mosses, princess pine, pyrola and other spring ephemerals. I experience awe as I remind myself that all these underground threads are exchanging information, carbon, water and other nutrients with one another. What we learn is that although competition exists in every forest, cooperation between species is the norm. Trees even favor their own kin (Dr. Suzanne Simard). Most important and worth repeating is that during this time of climate change, stabilized mycelium stores masses of carbon – about 70 percent underground. I notice that the cold white blanket that separates me from this pulsing earth in the winter is not something I appreciate for long; winter used to be a time I loved to snowshoe, look for tracks, and watch wild animals. I still treasure the season, but not the snow, although I value the latter as a form of protection for plants and tree roots, as well as a source of some water (it takes 12 inches of snow to equal one inch of water). I have no desire to fly over the snow like a skier or on some screaming machine; instead I want to sink myself into earth’s bodily wholeness. Last summer was wet and the best mushroom year I ever remember. I spent the entire summer season in the forest looking for/identifying/and studying the ecological niches that abounded with mushrooms, the fruiting bodies of some mycelium. There are billions, trillions of mycelium that make up these underground networks but only about twenty thousand kinds of mushrooms in all. I noted with excitement that in my favorite forest I sometimes experienced that pulsing light under my feet while searching for mushrooms or ground covers, walking slowly and getting on my knees frequently to inspect a plant or mushroom more closely. Reflecting upon this phenomenon it seemed to me that I had shifted my awareness from thinking mind to experiencing …
(Music 4) Singing to Hathor: Spiritual and Historical Reclamations Through the Muses of Memory, History, and Music by Jen Taylor

III. Spare Wings (Apples and The Fall) Hermeneutics is the branch of knowledge that deals with interpretation, especially of the Bible; it can be understood as a search for hidden meaning in texts. Christian feminist theology seeks to restore the lost female players of Biblical times. Innovator of the concept and feminist theologian, Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza believes reconstruction of biblical-historical theology as feminist theology is necessary because as the world’s dominant religion, it is impossible not to reckon with it. As long as “…the gospel, biblical texts, and traditions [are] formulated and codified by men, they will remain oppressive to women.” Reading the Bible critically, a hermeneutics of suspicion guides one in cleansing the text from its hetero-sexist patriarchal overlay.(1) Fiorenza’s hermeneutics of suspicion is a revelation, and the following is a hermeneutical investigation of Genesis and The Fall. I often articulate myself as rejecting Christian doctrine, but I am actually interested in restoring the lost Gnostic beginnings – Gnosticism as self-knowledge. Understanding the divine as emanating from within, there is no middleman. What is later translated by church patriarchs as sin, is understood as ignorance from a gnostic perspective. Sin marks you forever, but ignorance is something you can correct. The Gospel of Mary Magdalene, among others, has been recovered and confirms this.(2) I both reject and revise the story of Genesis when I understand it as a documentation of the demotion of the divine feminine. When I read Genesis, I do not hear (as Sunday school taught me) a declaration about how it has always been, but a curse for how it is going to be for women during the patriarchal era. As the handmaiden of colonialism, the creation narrative of Genesis impacts Christians and non-Christians alike in unconscious ways. I agree with Fiorenza on the need to correct the record. This is critical work and I love the elevation of it through the hermeneutical lens. I do not have to identify as Christian to participate. Unraveling Genesis has been a lifelong thread for me. Spare Wings: Apples and The Fall There is time, there are places; there is time, so many faces. There are needs, so much desire- and only seeds survive this fire. In the beginning there was the word and this was the beginning, how absurd. Flesh was the beginning, massing matter to form- from one womb to another, mysterious transformation. Is my flesh dirty, is it obscene? What do the boys see when they look at me? Is my flesh dirty, is it obscene? That word meant holy before Latin or Greek. But 3,000 years of lexigraphic change left my sisters’ bodies in a state of defamation. A prostitute was a priestess, that’s what that word meant: oracular vision, Mary Magdalene. Was Mary dirty, was she obscene? St. Augustine thought so, but Jesus never did. Don’t you know the ones who talk now, talk too much? Don’t you know the ones who come out, don’t know quite what for? Don’t you know the ones who call out, this is a surprise – didn’t quite open their eyes soon enough. Is my flesh dirty, is it obscene? Stop, stop, stop. What makes the apple fall to the ground? The desire to be eaten – the action that sets the seed free. Free. https://player.vimeo.com/video/370121353 Conclusion My “muse-ings” examine the dualistic nature of human thought and deliver a veritable theogony of Goddesses and ancient bad girls from the Egyptian Hathor to modern day Xena Warrior Princess. My focus is on re-wilding and the modern-ancient soul. I work best with the whimsicality of the ukulele, a kind of modern-day harp, to tug at our cultural amnesias and personal mythologies. More importantly though, these songs are personal mantras and a kind of myth-building for my own healing in a time bereft of the divine feminine. A living archetype has the ability to activate human potential. Calling these ancient goddesses and archetypes to life in song is a deep aspect of my spiritual practice. It reconnects me to my lost birthright. Layne Redmond shares a similar experience in which music, through drumming, led her to connect with the world’s oldest traditions of women in spiritual agency.(3) Her story is powerful and took her on a lifelong journey. I connect deeply with that, my own search sparked by the Homeric reference to the Cow-eyed Hera over 25 years ago. With so much lost, where else do we start but with ourselves? The temple was introduced in pre-patriarchal East Asia 6,000 years ago as a “female house of music.”(4) Sing now Muses, I shall remember you and a new song, as well.(5) (End of the series) Elisabeth, Schussler Fiorenza, “In Search of Women’s Heritage,” in Weaving the Visions, Judith Plaskow and Carol Christ, editors (New York, NY: Harper One, 1989), p. 31. Elaine Pagels, The Gnostic Gospels, (New York, NY: Vintage Books, 1979), p. 64. Redmond, 18. Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, “The Shaman Ruler of Old Magoist East Asia/Korea, & Her Mythology,” in Goddesses in Myth, History and Culture, ed. Mary Ann Beavis and Helen Hye-Sook Hwang (California: Mago Books, 2018), 274. This is the last line of Demeter’s Hymn. Helen P. Foley, trans., The Homeric Hymn to Demeter (Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1994), line 495, 26. (Meet-mago-contributor) Jen Taylor https://www.magoism.net/2021/10/meet-mago-contributor-jen-taylor/ Bibliography Angeles, Arrien. The Nine Muses: A Mythological Path to Creativity. New York: Penguin, 2000. Foley, Helen P., trans. The Homeric Hymn to Demeter. Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1994. Hwang, Helen Hye-Sook. “The Shaman Ruler of Old Magoist East Asia/Korea, & Her Mythology.” In Goddesses in Myth, History and Culture, edited by Mary Ann Beavis and Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, 251-275. California: Mago Books, 2018. Mayor, Adrienne. The Amazons: Lives and Legends of Warrior Women Across the Ancient World. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2014. Pagels, Elaine. The Gnostic Gospels. New York, NY: Vintage Books, 1979. Redmond, Layne. When the Drummers Were Women. Brattleboro, VT: Echo Point Books & Media, 1997. Schussler Fiorenza, Elisabeth. “In Search of Women’s Heritage,” in Weaving the Visions, Judith Plaskow and Carol Christ, editors. New York, NY: Harper One, 1989. Olga Sohmer, Olga. “The Mythic Cow and the Dairy Industry: An Archetypal Activist Exploration,” Olga Rose Sohmer, December 16, 2015. http://olgasohmer.com/on- mythic-cows-and-the-dairy-industry-an-archetypal-activist-exploration/. Solnit, Rebecca. A Field Guide to Getting Lost. New York: Penguin Books, 2005.
(Essay 3) Kinship and Power of Place by Sara Wright

The following day I went to see where Ghost Ranch was located, the first place that Georgia lived (and bought), where she painted many of her landscapes. I was not prepared for the astonishing depth and breadth and the visionary quality of the seemingly endless beauty that surrounded me. Ghost Ranch blended so well with the scenery that I could barely see the whole tucked into the base of one of the cliffs. I spent four hours staring at the austere mountains that changed color every second as clouds passed by and shadows fell in new places highlighting red, ocher, lavender, even deep purple and green until the night closed in. The landscape around Georgia’s “home-place” was so astounding that after my initial experience and attempt to describe it, I decided that O’Keeffe’s mountains must remain as stark impressions in my mind:
(Essay) The Pandemic and the Magic of Solidarity by Harita Meenee

How can we deal with the coronavirus pandemic while also pursuing our dreams of a different world? Here are some thoughts from an introvert spiritual activist. Photo by Evgeni Tcherkasski on Unsplash It’s the April of 2020 and this is by far the strangest spring we’ve ever experienced. Greece too has been affected by the novel coronavirus pandemic, just like many other countries. Every day we hear about the growing number of those infected and those killed by the virus. Hospitals are already overloaded. We’re repeatedly warned to stay at home and those who venture outside without proper justification have to pay a fine. Restaurants, coffee shops, bars, and most retail stores have closed and the whole country is under lockdown. The police are everywhere in downtown Athens and our civil liberties have been significantly curtailed. Our everyday life has been seriously disrupted and many people are losing their livelihood. Others are forced to stay at home with toxic partners or relatives while relationship abuse is escalating. Mental health issues had already been on the rise after a 10-year financial crisis; now they are being exacerbated by fear, stress and loneliness. I feel lucky because for years I’ve been working from home. I’m an introvert and I live alone by choice; thus, social distancing isn’t particularly hard for me. I count my blessings because over the years I’ve learned how to turn loneliness into solitude. With lots of practice, I’ve developed the precious skill of meeting my own emotional needs by meditating and generating plenty of self-love. It hasn’t always been easy. Staying at home comes naturally to me—my house is my temple and I’m its priestess. I feel an affinity with Hestia, the Greek Goddess of the Hearth; she may be little known today, but in antiquity she was the first to be given offerings in any ritual. Hers was the sacred fire of the city. She was the eldest of the Olympians and a virgin as she chose to never marry. Virginity, from a psychological perspective, is not a physical state but a demonstration of independence. For feminist Jungians, she symbolizes the archetype of the Self, being complete in herself. Jean Shinoda Bolen, a Jungian analyst and one of my favorite authors, has written extensively about the Hestia archetype in her books Goddesses in Everywoman and Goddesses in Older Women. She points out that the Hestia archetype is manifest in the women who choose to become nuns. Interestingly, an old friend used to tease me by calling me “Sister Harita.” In a way, he was right: I sometimes feel like a hermit, withdrawn from the hustle and bustle of mundane life. My home is my sanctuary where I can feel safe. In it I can distance myself from the chaos around me and focus on my inner world. In a sense, staying at home these days feels like a gift that allows me to deepen my spirituality and practice self-care. Finding inner peace amid a chaotic situation is no small feat, but I can’t allow myself to fall into escapism. During these harsh times, caring for others is just as important as caring for ourselves. The pandemic has highlighted how we’re all interdependent; now we can clearly see how one’s health condition can affect that of others. We no longer have the luxury of ignoring other people’s suffering. I have been an anti-racist activist for a long time, so I know firsthand that one of the most vulnerable groups is the population of refugees. Thousands of people from Syria, Iran, Afghanistan and other places have arrived in our country in recent years; Greek governments have put many of them in crowded camps, where they mostly live in tents, with little access to basic hygiene and healthcare. In the time of the novel coronavirus, it’s only a matter of time before this situation turns into a bomb, not just for refugees but for all of us. To avoid this catastrophe, the antiracist movement is demanding that the government provide safe housing for all. You can read more about this situation here: https://tinyurl.com/y9sck5a9. (Please consider signing the petition by filling out the form on the bottom of the page. Every signature matters!) The pandemic has exposed many of the weaknesses of the social and economic system we live in; healthcare is exploited for profit, public hospitals have been left underfunded, and countless lives are put at risk. But the problem goes a lot deeper. Rob Wallace, an evolutionary biologist and public health phylogeographer, has shown in his book Big Farms Make Big Flu how capitalism creates modern epidemics. In an interview entitled “Where did coronavirus come from, and where will it take us?” he points out the following: Capital is spearheading land grabs into the last of primary forest and smallholder-held farmland worldwide. These investments drive the deforestation and development leading to disease emergence. The functional diversity and complexity these huge tracts of land represent are being streamlined in such a way that previously boxed-in pathogens are spilling over into local livestock and human communities. In other words, big companies invading forests aren’t only destroying nature; they’re also exposing humans to viruses they would have never contracted otherwise. Wallace also highlights in his book how large-scale agribusiness, which includes the meat industry, contributes to the creation and propagation of new diseases: large numbers of domesticated animals crammed together (think of thousands of chickens one right next to the other) lead to high rates of transmission and weakened immune systems. It’s easy to sink into despair when considering how the kind of world we live in leads to disease, destruction and death. But the pandemic also has its positive side. Strikes are happening in many countries around the world as workers realize that their working conditions are putting their lives are at risk. Here in Greece many people are stepping up to stand in solidarity with others any way they can. Some of them are offering food the homeless or …
(Essay 3) Red Poppies Among the Ruins by Mary Saracino

[Author’s Note: Originally published in TRIVIA: Voices of Feminism, Issue 6, September 2007, www.triviavoices.net.] Red Poppies Tharros, Sardinia in 2004, photo by MarySaracino The Kurgan legacy survives to this day. Too often humankind worships the warrior culture, the power and might of dominium. From sports icons to corporate raiders and political strategists we laud and celebrate the principle of conquest. Our history books teach war, not peace. We learn of military campaigns, famous battles, esteemed generals with their prowess of might and destruction. The progress of civilization is measured in lives lost, blood shed, peoples oppressed. The more ancient legacy of peaceful coexistence is silenced. How did it come to be that 7,000 years of violence could wipe away 50,000 years of accord, erase it from our collective memory? Where are the history book chapters about peaceful resolution to conflict? About cultures co-existing in harmony? Where are the tales of societies like that of early Tharros? Or of the Nurgahi of Sardegna, people whose day-to-day living made no room for slavery, social stratification, or inequality between men and women? History chronicles the exploits of the conquerors even as it silences the subaltern ways of the conquered. In June 2004, in Rome, en route from Sardegna to my life in America, I walked the city streets, mere days after then President George W. Bush had visited the city. Everywhere, hanging from windows on buildings large and small, from wrought-iron apartment balconies, the facades of public office buildings, the stone arches of church entryways, I saw rainbow-colored banners waving in the smoggy breeze. In white letters, against a prism field of hope (bright rows of violet, blue, green, yellow, orange and red) blazed the word: Pace. Peace. A clarion call for sanity in an insane, out of control world. A prayer for harmony, for humanity, for grace. The Pace flags mirrored the hopes of people seeking to create a different resolution, establish a new pathway, disinherit humanity’s 7,000-year-old Kurgan legacy. On city walls throughout Rome, red and black graffiti screamed its paint-stained resounding truth: war harms the warriors as well as the warred against. Unambiguous, stark images leapt from stone walls and the sooty sides of buildings; war, and warmongers, were not welcome. Stop Global War; Bushladen; Bush Go Home; Bush Terrorista, No War for Oil; No Justice No Peace; No Bush, No War. I stood on street corners, reading these spray-painted messages, my heart pounding with urgency. The memory lives, I heard myself say. In Sardegna, I had waded through a field of knee-high grasses to reach ancient tombs and gaze upon graffiti of another kind: ochre-red carvings, symbols etched into rock tombs 1000s of years before. The spears of thistles pierced my socks, lingered like acupuncture needles, touching the essential points of Qi, conjuring vitality, coaxing life back to essential balance. Eco-activists tell us the Earth is out of balance and I agree. But the human spirit is awry as well. We cannot begin to save Mother Earth, and all her rich bio-diversity, until we save our own souls. Can humanity turn away from the cycle of victim and oppressor? Can we re-invite the ethos of justice with compassion, non-hierarchical social structure, and equality among all peoples to take root once more? In remembering and honoring our ancient past, can we begin to sow the Dark Mother’s aspiration of peace and well-being for all Her children? Among the ruins at Tharros and the cave-tombs of Montessu, I began to remember: the dream within the dream is as real and as tangible as breath. There was an age, before this violent one, in which the peoples of the Earth fashioned metal into useful tools and jewelry, not weaponry. There was a time before this one when men and women resolved conflicts without bloodshed, where humans lived in harmony with animals and plants. On that granite and basalt island in the Mediterranean, I beheld a four- thousand- year-old olive tree whose limbs embraced the sky, whose thick roots burrowed into the deep belly of the Mother and I remembered that there was a time, before dogma reigned, when Spirit was not separate from Body, when eyes shone with certainty and ears rang with sustaining lore. Rippling streams coursed through the parched land, giving sustenance. The waters of the turquoise sea lapped the shoreline, caressing beaches under the push and pull of the moon tide. Stones spoke to the wind, the sea, and to every willing listener. In Sardegna, beneath layers of sediment, eons of submission, the stony lips of ruins loosened, howling their stories among the tasseled grasses. Slowly, steadily, memories erupted with insistent defiance. Once, long, long ago, we humans could read the stars and portent the future. Once, long, long ago, we could witness the seasons, accept our place within the larger, all-encompassing circle, and reflect the Divine back to our receptive faces. Something deeper resides beneath the silence and the half-truths we contemporary humans tell ourselves, seeking to comfort our overwhelming sense of powerlessness, our disconnection from self and others. That’s the way it’s always been, we lie. People are violent by nature, we fool ourselves, hoping to feel less burdened by the responsibility to change our lives. Knowing better, our hearts shudder: how can this be true? Conflict is part of life, of course, for human harmony does not preclude disagreement or the need for mediation. But war and its twin, the violent subjugation of other peoples, is the anomaly—not peace. Violence is the mutant strain, the dismembered spirit. Peace is our birthright, our better choice. Peace begets transformation and transformation is the desire of each and every soul. Under the Sardegna sun, on a cloudless day, I sat among the ruins and listened to the songs of stones, the stories of poppies, those blood red tongues of memory. I know in my bones that there is hope for the human race. The ruins ask us to embrace the mystery, seek a different way, remember a time …
(Art) The Priestess by Glen Rogers

Art “The Priestess” by Glen Rogers The Priestess, is a large-scale painting, 7’ x 5’, completed in 2019 in my studio in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. As my work continues to evolve towards the figure, I decided to re-work an older painting from my abstract symbolism genre. With little planning, She emerged among the spirals from the older painting and took on characteristics from the Neolithic Minoan culture as seen in frescoes and pottery. The ancient Minoans in Crete were one of the last known matriarchal cultures in old Europe where “once upon a time” women were in a position of power in the temples, the communities and at home – truly an inspiration to me. According to Angeles Arrien’s Tarot Handbook, the Priestess is an archetype that signifies both strength and softness, a balance of Ying & Yang energies. She is a messenger of our intuition who guides us towards self-trust and self-resourcefulness. The Priestess is the ultimate symbol of feminine wisdom and offers enlightenment if we look within. She stands in the doorway of change. The spirals on her skirt indicate renewal – the regaining of women’s equality and taking on positions of power in the world. Her hands are in a prayer position for a return to peace and positive change for Mother Earth. This painting, The Priestess,is a celebration of the Divine Feminine and what She represents to us all. https://www.magoism.net/2021/01/meet-mago-contributor-glen-rogers/
(Special Post Mother Teresa 1) A Role Model for Women? by Mago Circle Members

[Editorial Note: The following is an edited version of the discussion that took place spontaneously 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 I: Why are we talking about Mother Teresa? [The conversation began among Anne Wilkerson Allen, Helen Hwang, and Wennifer Lin in a personal message and editor’s group. We agreed that Mother Teresa’s Western (Albanian) identity is hardly taken into consideration in the public perception of her as a secular and religious leader. Then, we decided to bring the topic to the Mago Circle.] Anne Wilkerson Allen: [A] posted this today and I think it is discussion worthy. Mother Teresa: Anything but a saint… scienceblog.com The myth of altruism and generosity surrounding Mother Teresa is dispelled in a paper by Serge Larivée and Genevieve Chenard of University of Montreal’s Department of Psychoeducation and Carole Sénéchal of the University of Ottawa’s Faculty of Education… http://scienceblog.com/60730/mother-teresa-anything-but-a-saint/#IdkpoWrDtMAAVCAg.99 Anne Wilkerson Allen: It is not my desire to bash the Church – I think everyone here is fully aware of the evils of patriarchy and the way the Church has used women, abused and killed women…but Teresa is an icon in the West, in particular, of saintliness. Even non-Catholics love her. Why? And is what she did really worthy of role modeling? Anne Wilkerson Allen: This was also on the thread. Not a huge fan of Hitchens, and I think calling her work a “death cult” is extreme, but I am interested in your opinions please. Christopher Hitchens – Mother Teresa: Hell’s Angel [1994] In 1994, three years before her death, journalist Christopher Hitchens made this documentary asking if Mother Teresa’s reputation was deserved… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=76_qL6fiyDw Anne Wilkerson Allen: I would also like to talk about altruism and some of the areas we have touched on before…at what point is my “help” an imposition in a third world country? Is my desire to “help” spurred by years of programming or heart? I honestly don’t know anymore. Anne Wilkerson Allen: There is also a part of me that wonders if this deflection of blame and highlighting of Teresa’s faults now is yet another “Let the women take the fall” action. Anne Wilkerson Allen: NOT that I find her blameless – her advocacy against contraception and abortion is decidedly anti-female, but there is so much focus on the Pope and the priests now….I keep wondering when the abuses of the nuns is going to come to light. Anne Wilkerson Allen: I think Ireland recently had something in the news about this… Ireland apologizes for Catholic laundry scandal Ireland’s premier has issued a state apology to the thousands of Irish women who spent years working without pay in prison-style laundries run by Catholic nuns. Former residents of the now-defunct Magdalene Laundries have campaigned for the past decade to get the government to apologize and pay compensation to an estimated 1,000 survivors of the workhouses. Two weeks ago the Irish government published an investigation into the state’s role in overseeing the laundries. It found that more than 10,000 women worked in 10 laundries from 1922 to 1996, when the last Dublin facility closed down… http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-202_162-57570107/ireland-apologizes-for-catholic-laundry-scandal/ Anne Wilkerson Allen: One of my friends was one of these girls. [Z]: I have wanted to bring attention to this issue for a long time but did not have a chance or was biting my time. Now Anne is pointing out some of the crucial issues about her, Mother Teresa, I am so thankful for this opportunity for us to sort out and think collectively. Thank you Anne! [Z]: Yes, the Catholic Laundry Scandal was shared here too!!! Anne Wilkerson Allen: It’s hard. She is iconic for many women. I did not know the sordid details or the horrors – not that it excuses anything….but when I was young, I saw her as someone to emulate….and thus became immolated…. [Z]: I have been thinking all along the way that she should not be a role model for women. Can you believe that I did even as a once Catholic Sister?!!! I know that many religious women out there will agree with me too. [Z]: My critique is not much on her as a person. But the fact that she represents morality for especially women makes me mad. Oh, there seems a lot more about reasons why we should debunk the mystique of Mother Teresa. Anne Wilkerson Allen: One of the things Hirchens pointed out was that it made Westerners feel good that this wonderful white woman was helping the poor in Calcutta….though she rarely seemed to be in Calcutta. Another friend told me that he knew one of the sisters of charity and that she told him they were encouraged to flog themselves on a regular basis….sick sick sick Anne Wilkerson Allen: This is why I have a problem with the mentality that says evil exists to teach us something…..that suffering exists to highlight our joy….there is just something WRONG with that. Anne Wilkerson Allen: We are all dark and light and in-between. [Z]: I am not surprised. Yes, definitely. What a waste of time and intelligence if not already damaging many turning the navigation backward!!! [Helen Hwang calls out the individual names to join the discussion, and is responded by what follows.] [B]: In Minneapolis there is a charity founder, Mary Jo Copeland, who helps the homeless & hungry. She just received an award from the President. She seems selfless, like Mother Teresa did (at least in …
(Poem 1) Hecate’s Moon by Sara Wright

Photo credits: I took this photograph when visiting the studio of artist Armando – Adrian Lopez whose work in mixed media produced this vision of Guadalupe. Lupita, Guadalupe – Your agave points of light glow in grave darkness. Hecate’s Moon is Red. The Raven slices the sky into shards. The River catches shivering stars. We remember the First Mother… Patiently, painfully, we return the parts to the Whole. See the Wolf who hides behind the Tree? Welcome him in. Only then can we begin… Lupita, Guadalupe – Your agave points of light glow in grave darkness. Working notes… Guadalupe is the Native “Mother of the Americas” – not the Virgin Mary as often suggested but an ancient Earth goddess. She is dark skinned and an Indian. Curiously, Lupita is the diminutive form of Guadalupe. Lupe means wolf. I was surprised to learn that the name Guadalupe means river of black stones or valley of the wolf. I was intrigued by the inclusion of both dark and light (wild and tame) in Guadalupe’s naming. She is a goddess of wholeness whose light continues to shine in a broken patriarchal culture. Hecate’s moon is the last moon of the year according to some earth based traditions, and here I aspect her as the goddess who ushers in the dark months ahead in the northern hemisphere and the return to chaos. ____________________________________________________ https://www.magoism.net/2014/12/meet-mago-contributor-sara-wright
(Poem) Circe by Susan Hawthorne

it’s a circleher home a palindromeAeaea ends as it begins perhaps that’s as it iswith the creatures that roamaround her house they are softies in the bodiesof wolves and pigsfawning in visitors’ laps Circe was no foolno greater expert was therein pharmacopoeia her powers transformativeturning men to beastsand beasts to men she’s reinvented herselfcircling in space darkasteroid 34 notes Circe, a Greek goddess is the daughter of the sun god Helios. She is also the aunt of Medea. Both Medea and Circe are known for their herbal and medicinal skills, though in patriarchal parlance this becomes sorcery or witchcraft. The stories about these women are powerful representations of women in pre-patriarchal society Circe appears in The Odyssey by Homer. Emily Wilson’s new translation of The Odyssey is a fine new interpretation in which the role of women is neither minimised nor reduced to sexist stereotypes. Madeline Miller’s novel, Circe is also a great read. This poem is published in my book The Sacking of the Muses. I am often wary of later artworks representing ancient women, but William Blake’s painting ‘Comus with His Revellers’ shows Odysseus’s men in their transformed state. A rather wonderful image. Attribution: William Blake (Lifetime: 1757 –1827), Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons https://www.magoism.net/2013/12/meet-mago-contributor-susan-hawthone/

(Review) Journey into Dreamtime by Munya Andrews, reviewed by Glenys Livingstone

Although the term “Dreamtime” is often not considered an adequate translation of the cosmology, religion or spirituality of Indigenous Australians, Munya Andrews of the Bardi people from the Kimberley region of Western Australia, acknowledges this and chooses to name her recently published book with it, explaining that: “I love the term … For me, it conjures up a magical and mysterious world.”, and she feels that the term aligns perfectly with the common global religious concept that Diety is beyond words and human understanding. For me, as Munya Andrews describes “Dreamtime”, it seems resonant with the sense of “ever-present Origins”[1]; that is, original space and time that is omnipresent. This is a space/place that I understand to be referred to as “between the worlds” and “beyond the bounds of space and time”, by Indigenous Europeans (Pagans), a tradition with which I am familiar. I understand it to be a sentient world in which we are immersed actually, and which may be revealed to the observant person in synchronous moments. With practice one may live with clearer everyday connections with this world, and Munya’s book is an important contribution to making those connections from within the cosmology of her people; and for “all beautiful souls to keep the Dreamtime alive”, as she says in the book’s dedication. This book provides informative story that should be part of every Australian’s education at various levels: it lays a groundwork and also elicits deepening understandings. The teachings offered in Journey into Dreamtime should be considered essential knowledge for living on this land named Australia, whereas heretofore most present occupants have often not had easy access to such learning. This very readable and small book provides some basic facts: for example, that there are “250 or so Indigenous nations, each having their own language, their own names and ‘country’ or tribal lands.”; and that terms such as Koori, Nunga or Murri are “pan-Aboriginal” names taken on since colonisation, for the sake of asserting a distinct Indigenous identity, in the face of forced removal from families and land. In the course of the seven chapters Munya develops understanding of Dreamtime, and also understandings of Indigenous Law, Songlines, sacred sites, bush doctors/bush medicine, Rainbow Snake, and Kindredness. I found all of this really helpful, an invitation into a world of being and relationship; and it is told with frequent analogies from Western science and academic and spiritual texts, with which the reader may be more familiar, enabling the bridge into Indigenous science and worldview. There is a list of suggested readings offered, along with links and details for further connection and learning. At the conclusion of each chapter of Journey into Dreamtime there are “Dreamtime Reflections”, posing questions for personal consideration, inviting personal participation and pathways into some actual sense of an alive self in relationship with the alive world described. This book needs to be in spaces/places where everyday people can read it, like waiting rooms of all kinds (where there are frequently Bibles); as well as in every library, and especially Australian libraries. I highly recommend Journey into Dreamtime as an educational resource, for your self, for educational programs, and/or for any group that you may gather. Aunty Munya, as she names herself, has an impressive track record of speaking engagements, mentioned at the conclusion of the book, and invites you to have her speak to your organisation. She describes her life purpose as “to create better understanding and appreciation of Aboriginal people and to leave behind a legacy of Dreamtime wisdom for generations to come.” May it be so, as readers of Journey into Dreamtime absorb its teaching and resources. To order a copy of Journey into Dreamtime visit Evolve Communities NOTES: [1]“ever-present origin” is the English translation of Jean Gebser’s Ursprung und Gegenwart, Stuttgart, Deutsche Verlag, 1966.
(Special Post 8) Why Goddess Feminism, Activism, and Spirituality?

[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. Special thanks to Trista Hendren, founder and author of The Girl God, who passionately and painstakingly promotes the message of each contributor via Facebook’s memes. Without Trista’s devotion to the advocacy, this collective effort would not have continued. 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.] Marija Krstic-Chin To remember who we really are (nature, cycles, network, creative force, one, infinite…) for the benefit of all of humanity and all living things; and to unite and unify as we broadcast, hand down, protect and defend this truth and each other against the oppressive intentions and actions of patriarchal perpetrators, puppets, and pawns who seek to enslave us by various old and new divide-and-conquer strategies.
(Special Post 2) "The Oldest Cilivization" and its Agendas by Mago Circle Members

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

(Essay) Winter Solstice/Yule within the Creative Cosmos by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

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

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

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

(Budoji Essay 4) The Magoist Cosmogony by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

Part 4: Magoist Origin of Immortals “I maintain that Immortals originally refers to Mago’s descendants in Mago Castle, the Primordial Paradise. They are the primordial clan community of the Mago Species, comprised of the divine, demigods, and humans.” [This is a translation and interpretation of the Budoji (Epic of the Emblem City), principal text of Magoism. Read the translation of Chapter 1 of the Budoji.] Magoist Origin of Immortals: All in the Mago Species are given the original nature of immortality or transcendence. Readers are advised to set aside the literal meaning in the English language of the words immortals or transcendents. Immortals is a translation of the East Asian term seon (仙, xian in Chinese). I choose the translation immortals over transcendents not because it is a better translation but because it is the most commonly used term by Western Daoist translators.[i] Although it is known as a Daoist term, I hold that it is pre-Daoist, namely Magoist, in origin. Primarily, it refers to the Mago Species (Mago and Her descendants) who dwelt in Mago Castle, the primordial home, to be discussed in detail in later chapters. Likewise, historical figures known as Immortals are Magoist rather than Daoist.
(Essay) The Mago Hedge School: Why Remember Mary Daly? by Helen Hye Sook Hwang

Prologue By writing this, I do not intend to defend Mary Daly’s position in any dispute. A controversial figure, Mary Daly never let go of her fight with those whom she thought on the other side of her feminist war. Like anyone else in history, Mary Daly belonged to her time and culture, and I leave her unresolved issues up to her. What I write here is my fond memory of her, whose feminist thought left an indelible mark on my being as well as humanity as a whole. Daly’s contribution remains to be reassessed from the fresh eye of new generations. In the meantime, I begin to speak for my part. Without Mary Daly’s thought, I would not have been in this place where I stand right now. It has empowered me to actualize my dreams to the fullest as a wo/man who was born and raised in Korea but had come from the One Home in origin. I first hear of the hedge school “Have you heard of the hedge school, Hye Sook?” asked Mary. “No, I haven’t heard of it,” I answered. This conversation took place during the conference called the Feminist Hullaballoo held in Santa Fe, New Mexico in 2007. We met there and spent three days as chums. Mary was with another friend, Yvonne Johnson, so the three of us hung out together. It was a very special time for me – I felt as if I were wrapped up in the eye of the storm. (In fact, my life feels so.) At the conference, someone asked me how I came to be invited as a featured speaker. I was among such renowned feminist speakers as Sonia Johnson, Paula Gunn Allen, and Mary Daly herself. They felt like giants to me. I told her that Mary Daly invited me. Mary had asked me if I would like to go and speak at that conference. I did not have an inflated ego. I would not have been hurt if I were not chosen. But I said “Yes” without hesitation. At the time, it felt like another one of the many “outlandish” adventures that I had undertaken throughout my life. In retrospect, however, this was a very special “Yes” to the beginning of my life’s new phase. It was my debut as a radical feminist, so to speak – the first time I spoke to such a large number of radical feminists. Mary sat in the front row and listened to my talk. She nodded her head saying “It was great,” when I finished and came down to sit next to her. Mary was just getting to know my research on Mago in that year; that was what she was referring to. Nonetheless, what mattered to me was not how well I presented my research, but that I managed to do it! The jitters were over! I was returning Home and had just been baptized in public as a Wo/man, the whole being. [This talk was later published in Trivia: Voices of Feminism.] My two dreams When I accepted Mary’s invitation, I was thinking of my two dreams. I am a dream-listener. Or to be more accurate, my dreams have led me through. These dreams with regard to Mary Daly are in fact old; I dreamt them before my arrival in Claremont, California, in 1997. In the first dream, I was in the crowd when Mary spoke to a large audience. The venue was an open plaza and the stage was far away from where I was standing. Then, out of the blue, Mary called my name and asked me to come up to the podium. It sounded like a call to my soul. So I did. Then, she passed the microphone to me. I blacked out, not knowing what to say, and woke up. This dream told me what I lacked, a message to deliver to the world, which I did not have for some years. The second dream was a brief but sweet one. Mary and I were standing in an old-style classroom as co-teachers. The dynamic between us was intimate and enjoyable. Honored and proud, I felt in the presence of my old friends. The classroom was a dream-like space within a dream, as if we were in a time machine! More than two decades have passed since I had those dreams, and now I see that they were indeed self-fulfilling dreams. The first dream was fulfilled through the event of my speech to the Feminist Hullaballoo conference. By then, it was clear that I was going to speak about the topic of Mago, which I had encountered for my Ph.D. dissertation. It was the topic that I had searched for without knowing and I found it. Now I see that it found me! It is the tradition of my ancestors that has beckoned me to come Home. In Mago, I found an anciently originated gynocnetric reality, which encompasses everyone regardless and named it Magoism. Mary and I meet in person The first time I met her in person was in early April of 1999, in Claremont, California. I had been in contact with Mary Daly for about four years before then. We had spoken over the telephone, faxed, and snail-mailed across the Pacific Ocean while I was living in Korea from 1994 to 1997. Mary was invited to speak by the committee of Claremont Colleges programs including the Women’s Studies in Religion Program at Claremont Graduate University, the program I was studying in. In fact, that was the program that Mary had suggested I apply for, and she had written a recommendation letter on my behalf. My first meeting with her is imprinted on my soul, and it feels as fresh as ever. It was an unusually cold spring day in Claremont. It even sprinkled some rain. She was staying at the Claremont Inn, only a couple of blocks away from my dormitory apartment. She had phoned me the day before her arrival. She called me …
(Mago Almanac Planner Year 5 Excerpt 1) 13 Month 28 Day Magoist Calendar by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

[Author’s Note: This and its sequences are a newly added portion in the Mago Almanac Planner Year 5, equivalent to the Gregorian Year 2022. Because the Budoji did not explain further about time units smaller than 1 day, I did not follow through some possible implications in previous Mago Almanac volumes. Next year’s Mago Almanac Planner for Personal Journey: 13 Month 28 Day Calendar Year 5 or 5919 MAGOMA ERA is forthcoming in Mago Bookstore (October 25, 2021). PDF version is available for purchase.] Angbuilgu (仰釜日晷 Concave Sundial) dated in 1434 of Joseon Dynasty Korea (13 horizontal lines are engraved, indicating 24 seasons and 7 vertical lines indicating times of a day) UNITS OF TIME MEASURE At the half point of the eleventh Sa, there is one Gu of the big Hoe (Eve of the first day of the month). Gu is the root of time. Three hundred Gu makes one Myo. With Myo, we can sense Gu. A lapse of 9,633 Myo-Gak-Bun-Si makes one day. This is of Chesu (Physical Number), 3, 6, 9. By and by, the encircling time charts Medium Calendar and Large Calendar to evince the principle of numerology. 1 Gu (approx. 3.71 miliseconds) refers an infinitesimal discrepancy that occurs every eleven years or every ten and a half years precisely. Because Gu (a noncognitive time unit) is a time too small to count, Gu can only be treated as 1 Myo, equivalent to 300 Gu. As shown in the below table, Myo is still a tiny unit of time. 9,633 Myo equals 1 day, which is 288,990 Gu (300×9633=288,990). Because of this, there will be one extra day (9,633 Myo) every 31,788,900 years. This means, the Magoist Calendar has another (the third) leap day every 31,788,900 years (11 x 300 x 9,633). 31,788,900 years is a long time, which we will presumably not take into consideration for the Magoist Calendar dating 3898 BCE (the beginning year of Goma’s Danguk confederacy) that we are under. Because the units of Gak, Bun, and Si are not further explained in the Budoji,[1] it is difficult to designate what they indicate. Although the terms of Gak, Bun, and Si are familiar to moderns as time indicators, what each unit indicates is unknown. Given that 9,633 Myo (Gak-Bun-Si) equals 1 day (1 Il 日 일), it is conjectured that Gak-Bun-Si refers to time segments equivalent to hours, minutes, and seconds in today’s 24 hour a day scheme. 1 Myo is approximately 1.115 seconds, as 9,633 Myo is approximately 8,640 seconds. If we project the time of 1 day into a circle, the whole circle indicates 1 day. Doing this implies that time/space is inseparable in a circular notion of timespace. To specify a size of time smaller than 1 day, we can first divide the circle into two halves. Let’s call the half circle or a half day A. A (equivalent to 12 hours) equals 4,816.5 Myo or 1,444,950 Gu. Then, we divide the half circle into two halves. And let’s call it B. B refers to a quarter of 1 day or B (equivalent to 6 hours), which equals 2,408.25 Myo or 722,475 Gu. Likewise, C refers to one eighth of 1 day, equivalent to 3 hours), which equals 1,204.125 Myo or 361,237.5 Gu. A subsequent division by 2 aligns with the Physical Numbers, 3, 6, 9 in the digital root.[2] Given one sidereal day to be 23 hours, 56 minutes, and 4.0916 seconds or 23.9344696 hours, 1 A would be 11 hours, 58 minutes, and 2.0458 seconds. 1 B would be 5 hours, 59 minutes, and 1.0229 seconds. 1 C would be 2 hours, 59.5 minutes, and 0.51145 seconds. The circle represents the sidereal day of 23 hours, 56 minutes, and 4.0916 seconds. Note that the time divisions of 1 day (A, B, and C) follow the order of 1, 2, 4, and 8. Precisely, this is what the Magoist Genealogy of the first three generations that I illustrated above and elsewhere: The Magoist Cosmogony recounts that from one (Mago, the Great Mother) born are the two daughters (Gunghui and Sohui), which makes the triad. From the two daughters born are the four twins, which makes eight. This is observed in meiosis (cell division for sexually reproducing organisms) from one to two and to four and to eight and so forth. The Mago triad and the eight granddaughters are called Nine Magos.[3] The calendar is not just an indication of times or seasons. It is an indication of the life-organizing principle. The Magoist Calendar is a summary of cosmic and planetary life systems. From a microcosmic entity to a macrocosmic universe, all runs by the same force of Sonic Numerology, the metamorphic reality of WE/HERE/NOW. Beings, time, and space are the three inseparable aspects of one reality.(To be continued) [1] It is indeed regretful that the sequence book of the Budoji, Yeoksiji (Book of Calendar and Time), that treats calendar and time has been lost. We have only the Budoji available, the first book of 15 books of the Jingsimnok (Record of Cleansing Mind/Heart), a compendium of 3 volumes that have 5 books in each. Doubtless that the Yeoksiji (Book of Calendar and Time), the third book of Volume 1, would detail the rest of time measures and sub-calendars. [2] D would refer to one sixteenth of 1 day, equivalent to 1.5 hours, which equals 602.0625 Myo (3 in the Digital Root) or 180,618.75 (9 in the Digital Root). If we divide one eighth of 1 day by 3, it is one twenty-fourth of 1 day or E (equivalent to 1 hour). A total of 24 segments. E equals 401.375 Myo or 120,412.5 Gu. These numbers do not follow the suit of 3, 6, and 9, Chesu or Physical Numbers. 401.375 is 2 in the Digital Root and 120,412.5 is 6 in the Digital Root. [3] See this book, 112. https://www.magoism.net/2013/07/meet-mago-contributor-helen-hwang/