January 3, 2014October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Art) Sacred Joy by Elaine Drew

Wishing you all the joy of love and nurturance by the Divine Feminine in 2014. This image, a collage of hand-painted paper, shows the universal Divine Feminine astride the world, Read More …

Winter Turns the Tide… by Sara Wright

Photo by Sara Wright [Editor’s Note: This was written last year. Sara Wright was so prolific that we missed timing for this piece of her writing last year.] This winter has been most challenging on every level. I am exhausted, emotionally and physically. Most of my hair has turned gray. In my mind and body I have become an old woman. On December 31st of 2021, I broke my foot at three in the morning when a horrible crash awakened me to a blocked front door. I shoveled pure ice for an hour. Frantic with anxiety, I didn’t even realize that I had broken my foot until the crisis was over and the door could be opened again. Initially, I believed I had one woman and two men who would help me with snow removal this winter but all three backed out for one reason or another. My trust was misplaced. (Human betrayal/racism have dogged me ever since I moved here almost 40 years ago. It has only been recently that I recognize that this problem is part of a larger story that is more about others than me.) When help isn’t available – well – there’s nothing to do but to go on alone and that’s what I did. I have two little Chihuahuas who can’t go outdoors until they have paths to get through the snow. This means that regardless of the severity of the storm I need to snowshoe…The night I broke my foot I had already been out four times keeping the way open. We were being buried by a winter storm. When I broke a second bone a month later while shoveling ice again I was beyond distraught. A kindly woman who I barely knew became a fierce advocate for me – the first genuine advocate I have ever had in all the years I have lived here. She called upon others to help me find two young men who promised to do the shoveling that I can no longer do. Snowshoeing those paths is all that’s left, and I think I can do that much. I hope. This winter of ice – freeze thaw – always with ice at the beginning and/or end of every rain/snow storm has made walking so dangerous that even with spikes it is not safe. Never in forty years have we had this much rain all winter long – rain that turns to ice – then snow – then more freezing rain. Never have I been so housebound. The changing weather made it profoundly real on a practical level that I must sell the house because I can no longer take care of myself here. Soul, spirit, and body have finally been re-united as I make this decision seek ‘home’ elsewhere. I am shocked to realize how ready I am to leave… I came to these mountains to experience woodland peace, to engage with wild animals as a naturalist and to develop into the courageous woman I have become – one whose integrity stands before her. I was fortunate. For a while I had peace, wild animals, and land I loved… Gradually my feelings began to shift with the changes that were underway… As the Spirit of the Forest began to recede I felt the loss keenly. The logging machine was destroying our woods. My little patch of land became sandwiched in between land that has been brutally logged or senselessly maimed by my nearest neighbor. The animals and birds lost their habitat; most have disappeared. Road noise, gunning, motorcycles, traffic, speed of any kind has become the norm. It is no longer possible to walk on my road. Most recently the mountain behind me swarms with ‘recreationists’ who use the trails they cut through the land as their playground. Curiously, a year ago I thought I might stay, not because these changes weren’t happening but because I thought I had a reason to… but this belief turned out to be illusion, thankfully. As the final veil fell away, I was almost free. Strangely, it was the dead that still held me. My beloved brother was buried below the house and I couldn’t imagine leaving him behind…But last fall I had a series of dreams that informed me that my little brother was no longer here; that he now lived in the very forest that has become my refuge, a place some distance from here that I still love fiercely. Silence, biodiversity – large intact trees, a healthy understory, mosses and lichen, a plethora of ground covers, a winding river, bears and other animals, birds and beavers all befriend me here, offering solace, peace, companionship and love. In one of the dreams my brother has become this whole green forest and he wears an animal skin. That my little brother is free, that he is finally at peace has set me free too. Oh, the joy and the relief. I can let go! No matter where I find home I can always return to my refuge because this forest is protected for perpetuity. I have a multitude of unknown challenges ahead of me, but because I am flowing with the river to the sea, I believe I will be able to make this transition. As difficult as winter has been I can also feel gratitude because I have finally been able to make this decision. Letting go allows me to embrace the old woman in myself, the one with limitations. I make the choice to love her, to advocate for her, just as my fierce and caring friend did for me. https://www.magoism.net/2014/12/meet-mago-contributor-sara-wright/
(Poem) Little Wolf By Sara Wright

Lupita, your points of light glow in grave darkness. Hecate’s Moon was red. The raven sliced the sky into shards. The river caught shivering stars. We remember our First Mother, the She Bear. Patiently, painfully, we return broken parts to the Whole. See the Wolf who hides behind the Tree? Welcome her in. Only then can we begin… Again. Working Notes: Last night I had a conversation with a dear friend of mine that addressed the non-generative aspects of darkness. Just in this last week we have covered the problems of both envy and hatred. Yesterday I spent much of the day swept into this place, knowing from experience that my feelings would pass. Sometimes, we need permission to feel what we feel, and then, validation that these feelings are temporary. When my friend’s partner (who is called Mr. Bear) heard the wolf singing in the woods, he came indoors to get her and she went outside with him to listen to this iconic cry of the wilderness. It was All Hallows Eve. She told me that if she heard the wolf she would howl back, and I hope she remembered to howl for me! Both generative and non generative aspects belong to this dark time of the year which in some traditions begins with the Feast of the Dead, the honoring of the Ancestors, and our own journeying through the dark. Late fall is an uncomfortable time for many. The above poem was written to acknowledge the importance of creating space for the wolf and her wild wolf feelings in us, both positive and negative. Animals incorporate both positive and negative attributes without fear and live out their lives in a state of wholeness that we humans can only imagine. To think about what it would be like to feel naturally whole I personally am drawn to the ancient image of the Great Bear who circumnavigates the skies, and whose son provides direction helping humans to navigate in the dark as they enter the unknown. The celestial Great Bear meets the bears on earth who are preparing for hibernation underground or under the snow. In January, mothers will give birth to cubs, beginning a new life cycle. Together, these earth and sky images of the Great Bear offer comfort and remind me that the cycles of living, dying, and birthing are One. Is this why the Great Bear was worshiped by Neanderthals at the dawn of humankind and later by other humans? These peoples looked to the stars and saw patterns that helped them navigate, and could easily see the shifting seasons on earth mirrored by stars in the sky. More than 50 thousand years ago bear skulls adorned cave walls in Europe and elsewhere. Although we continue to speculate how bear skulls, bones, and later bear effigies were used, (in spite of Marija Gimbutas’s scholarly work), attests to our refusal to align ourselves with the Power’s of Nature as bear, wolf, bird or frog. I wonder about this obsessive need to substitute a human image for an animal when it comes to the divine. I think it reveals the terrible split that allows humans to cry out for peace and continue to wage war. We are a broken species that has lost touch with our animal bodies and that of our mother, the Earth. Lupita, by the way, translates as “Little Wolf” in Spanish. (Meet Mago Contributor) Sara Wright
(Essay 2) Body Prayer by Mary Petiet

Julian knew harrowing times of uncertainty and found within them a quiet place of connection to divine love. She saw bubonic plague ravage Europe, killing half the population of Norwich, and historians speculate that she lost her own husband and children to the contagion. She saw political upheaval as England endured the Hundred Years war and was rocked by a series of peasant revolts, the largest led by Wat Tyler in 1381, as the people tried to wrest a more equal distribution of power and resources from the nobility. In 1378 she saw the church begin the Great Schism, a 68 year split between two pontificates, adding further disruption to an already hectic situation. She suffered an unnamed sickness so severe at age 30 that last rites were read, yet she revived, entered religious orders, and began to write of the profound visions she received during her illness. She is the first known English woman to have written a book.
(Tribute) Catherine the Lion-Hearted by Harriet Ann Ellenberger

Where She Came From Catherine Nicholson (no middle name) was born in Troy, a small town in the Scottish Presbyterian sandhills region of North Carolina, on August 7, 1922, but her father Mike, the town druggist, registered her birth as August 8th. Catherine celebrated both days. When Catherine was four, her older sister, Edna Earle, died at home from an overdose of morphine given her during an asthma attack by a new doctor in town. The morphine had come from Mike’s drugstore, a hard fact which Catherine’s mother never forgave. She took to her bed for a year, and during that year taught Catherine to read. Catherine’s head-start on schooling and her love for literature were born out of her mother’s unassuageable grief. To escape the thunderclouds at home, Catherine spent much of her time outside the house. She read the magazines and drank cherry cokes at the soda fountain in her father’s drugstore, and watched every Hollywood movie that came to town – for free, in her uncle’s movie theatre. She played long hours with Nancy and other friends in the neighborhood: one of their best games was Plike (short for “play like you’re x … “), a form of theatre that didn’t require adult supervision or resources. And, when her mother didn’t intervene in time, Catherine gave her toys to the other children. Moving Out into a Wider World Catherine Nicholson, Flora MacDonald College graduation Catherine graduated from a small woman’s college near Troy that had been named after the 18th-century Jacobite heroine Flora MacDonald, remembered by the Scots for her courage, fidelity, and honor. Then Catherine went to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill for a master’s in English literature. She taught in Winston-Salem, and later showed me the campus where she’d asked WH Auden to read. He arrived on the train from New York City, and she and her roommate invited all the beautiful, intelligent young men they knew for him to converse with. Catherine herself was working seriously on poems, but Auden never knew that. Catherine never told me when and why her passion shifted from words on the page to live theatre, but she took the extraordinary step of moving alone from North Carolina to Chicago, to study at Northwestern University under the great acting teacher Alvina Krause. Catherine earned an MA and a PhD in theatre and oral interpretation at Northwestern, writing her dissertation on the role of the chorus in Greek tragedy. It was during those years in the Midwest that Catherine made three discoveries which would shape her life until its closing: she discovered that, though she made a good actor, she made an even better director; she discovered the books of Jane Ellen Harrison, intellectual revolutionary who uncovered the violent destruction of female-centered culture which lay at the root of Western civilization; and she discovered Barbara, then an undergraduate in sociology at Northwestern and Catherine’s first real love. Making Theatre Live When I met her at the Charlotte Women’s Center in 1974, Catherine had directed university theatre for nearly twenty years, first at Randolph-Macon Woman’s College in Virginia, then at the new branch of the University of North Carolina in Charlotte, where she and the painter Maud Gatewood had begun the interdisciplinary arts program. I knew that the old lovers and friends she introduced me to thought she was a great director, but I had no idea what that meant until after we were living together and she was directing what would be her final play at UNCC, “Twelfth Night,” cast irrespective of sex. I listened to her anguish night after day after night, and I watched as she created a whole world; I watched her slowly give that world over to the actors; and I watched her withdraw to let the actors in turn make that world live for their audience. I saw how what she did caused everyone touched by it to rise far above their ordinary selves. And I saw what happened when the play was done, the collapse of the collective extraordinary back into the individual ordinary. How We Got Together and Catherine Left the University Catherine had become fascinated with me by reading my journal (she could quote chunks of it verbatim), and I had become fascinated with her by listening to her talk. Catherine’s mind was a library, and she could talk a blue streak – from morning coffee, when she would recount fabulously detailed, richly theatrical dreams, to the last drop of bourbon nearly twenty hours later. She was fifty-three, she was at the top of her game professionally, and she drank a lot. I was twenty-eight, I lived and breathed revolution and the Charlotte Women’s Center, and I was career-less, unless you counted a part-time job as a technical writer. We were in complete agreement that an ongoing love relationship would be a terrible idea. We were in complete agreement that my moving into her house would produce a catastrophe. We agreed completely, and then in early 1975, we went ahead and did it anyway. After the “Twelfth Night” performances a few months later, Catherine left her tenured teaching position, explosively. In practical terms, she could have stayed. The administration was upset about the sex discrimination suit she’d filed, but they still needed her. The gay male artists who surrounded her like a Judy-Garland fan club were alarmed by the women’s center and by me, but, given time and reassurance, they would have come around. The real reason she left, I think now, was that she had reached the limits of what the patriarchal theatre tradition could do. She’d directed Greek tragedy, knowing that the stories the old plays told were stories of the defeat of women. She’d directed Shakespeare, playing with gender roles even more than he had. She’d directed Brecht and Ibsen and Strindberg and the first North American production of Beckett’s “Waiting for Godot.” She’d been there, she’d done that, and she wanted to create something new. An …
(Poem) A Small Woman by Phibby Venable

my eyes stray from the patient I am with to the one in a chair across the hall short, puffy, silent – alone, the nurse whispers to a nurse nearby a small woman with tousled steel colored curls waiting for open heart surgery and blinking occasionally at the wall I can tell you she is too small, too alone, too frightened in her chair, a monotone of being alone and the next day too – it’s the same sitting in her chair by the door now holding a heart pillow, being told to press, cough and press, and she does so, she stays alive – maybe she wonders why – but still, so obedient to the requests of the nurse her eyes living in distant fields that I long to fill with gentle family and wildflowers
(Book Excerpt 3) Re-visioning Medusa Eds. by Glenys Livingstone, Trista Hendren et. al.

Medusa: Wisdom of the Crone Moon Theresa Curtis, Ph.D. ALL MYTH IS AN UNFOLDING of both being and becoming. Hence, Medusa equally was—as Herself, precisely—and is—brewing Her story as circumstances warrant. I do Her a disservice when I dissect and mold Her into a specimen of interpretation. In face, Medusa is fierce, turning to stone those whose interest is superficial. As Goddess, She can unravel Her deeper medicine beyond time and space for those who ask—and it is toward this Medusa I intend to visit. How She chooses to venture forth today is Her business. But how we collaborate, intuit, circumambulate Her is all our affair, and I invite each of us to join this adventure. We could honor Medusa as the three phases of Moon, and therefore the traditional three phases of Women: Maiden, Mother, and Crone. Various tales have told of Medusa’s Maiden voyage toward lost innocence through rape (forced entry), and then Her radical Mothering moment when She births from Her bloody neck. Her tale is long and rich, and constantly unfurling deeper—it can never truly be known. Yet Medusa chooses which wisdom She imparts to each explorer, and She has visited specifically as a snake-headed, wisdom-infested Crone. For me, She reeks of the endless mystery of the secrets beyond the dark moon. Her mystical powers deliver terror to those who think they can reach Her through direct observation. Freud observed Medusa at length, interpreting Her as Vagina dentata, exhibiting panic and horror (stoning) in the face of Her power. In fact, he was never able to complete his treatise on Her. Athena’s (logic, order) rage ignites Medusa’s power, wherein Medusa seems to pulsate with the unobservable might of sagacity —the Dark Crone Moon—and its deep endlessness of insight (in-sight) and possibility. She does not take lightly that wisdom is being stolen through measurable, evident reasoning. Rather, if we forego our gaze in order to perceive Her through reflection, then She may forego her head and birth Pegasus and Chrysaor. Medusa must be seen reflectively; only then is the fierce vision alive with the transformative energy of snake. She entices me in. If you are still reading this, then She is enticing you too. Power of the Archetypal Medusa Gather up, sisters. We must reflect upon Medusa without statuing to stone. It’s time to find our voices—all of us, as women. Medusa is open for business: to accept Her voyagers, and be discovered. Medusa offers a pulsating transformation—a deeper knowledge. Shall we undertake this mission? Yes, this is an adventure wrought with hedonism, angst, and enlightenment; it is not for the faint of heart. We shall reflect upon that which brings up our great fears; we will each touch our own distress—feel it; swim in it. We need a gritty honesty and willingness to open our minds to a deeper discovery. And when we are complete, we can birth our own Pegasus and Chrysaor. Only then will Medusa’s story evolve. How shall we ready for such a journey? I have relied on intuition, ritual, and meditation to sense the brew of Medusa—and to trust Her. She is not easy to trust. And yet, She is predictable: if I am merely here to ogle, I will get stoned and nowhere. But when I honor and reflect upon Her, She is ripe with the guidance of Crone. Medusa has responded to effort and willingness. Yet She also instigates, in which I am the effect to Her cause. She is not only approaching me; She is enticing me to enter Her. This can feel like being swallowed, and then shat-out after being transformed through digestion. It is as if I am entering Medusa as Vagina Dentata, hungry and toothed. Facing Medusa requires courage. I have wielded to an inclination to transform, to realize more of who I am, to alchemize. But alchemy is a patriarchal representation of the active Medusa; it is a masculine attempt to convert rigid iron to a more malleable and valuable gold. It relegates magic to science. Animus alchemy can measure, clarify, and change the visible surface—but Medusa’s Crone wisdom does not live there; thus, alchemy and science will never illuminate the active Medusa. She is wrought only through reflection and contemplation. It was by reflection, and refusing to merely gaze, that my great wombing within Medusa began. I have given of myself to Her that She may deliver to me my own Cronehood—where Her snakes may weave me a more fertile field to sidewind through. And so, I prepare for this Medusation—where the surface persona can be infused with a more essential knowing. “BE Medusa.” Let her live in your curls for a while and see what wisdom you can bring up and add to the potion. Meditate on her. Sharpen your intuition through introversion, meditation, imagination. Leave Her some space to crawl in through your cracks. What you learn is your lesson—this is my personal learning: Grounding my Self before stepping into the Myth Without witnesses… people become trapped in silences (Shulman-Lorenz, n.d., para 9). I feel an obligation to sufficiently prepare and ground myself (I am, after all, an experiment) prior to mindfully responding to the initial rumblings of Medusa calling me inward; I link with my familiars before I connect with the unknown. Entering this transformational phase can be hazardous, and a way to process the sometimes overwhelming world of unconsciousness is essential. Marie-Louise von Franz notes the hazards one might encounter: When the conscious and unconscious personalities approach each other, then there are two possibilities: either the unconscious swallows consciousness, when there is a psychosis, or the conscious destroys the unconscious with its theories, which means a conscious inflation…and then people get out of it by saying the unconscious is ‘nothing but…’ (1980, p. 164) Setting the Intention Willingness to enter Medusa’s Crone portal initiated an ego-confrontation between my individual self, and my Higher Self. Fear fought that call again and again, yet a commitment and trust in Medusa gave …
(Essay 3) The Animal Mother Goddess by Hearth Moon Rising

Excerpt from Invoking Animal Magic: A guide for the Pagan priestess Animal deities were once worshiped in caves, and the Anatolian goddess whose cult eventually dominated Rome has a name that translates as “cave.” We know her as Cybele. The Greeks put her birthplace on Mount Ida east of Troy, but she is associated with other mountains as well, including another Mount Ida on Crete. Her titles are Mother of the Mountain, Great Mother of the Gods, Nourishing Lady, Most Holy Lady and Queen of the Wild Beasts. Cybele is usually portrayed with a pair of lions seated beside her or pulling her chariot. She is associated with bees, and the Greeks referred to her priestesses as Melissae, or bee nymphs. The bees link Cybele with a special pine tree that bees love to swarm. This pine thrives in the low to mid elevations in Asia Minor and produces a sticky sap that aphids feed on. The aphids in turn sweat sweet nectar that attracts the bees. The honey produced from the pine nectar is still prized for its flavor, but in ancient times it was valued for its medicinal qualities. The love of the bee for this pine is the source of the myth of Cybele and her honey-man, Attis. Attis is the grandson of Cybele, who conceived his father when the god Zeus tried unsuccessfully to rape her. He ejaculated on the ground when he could not enter the goddess’vagina, but since she is also the stony soil of the mountain, she conceived anyway. The son of Cybele became an almond tree, and a river nymph conceived Attis when she ate an almond from that tree. Attis was abandoned by his mother and raised by a billy goat. Cybele fell in love with Attis when he matured, and at first he returned her love. Eventually, however, his eye wandered to another, and Cybele attacked him in fury, until he tore off his genitals in despair, bleeding to death under a pine. With much sorrow, Cybele wrapped the body of Attis in wool and took his body and the pine tree to the mouth of her cave, where she planted both. Cybele’s maddening attack on Attis is obviously bee-like, but his self-castration has other parallels in the life of the bee, as the sexual organs of the drone are torn when he completes his copulation with the queen. Attis the drone dies and is reborn as an evergreen tree, which the bees dote upon.
(Music 1) Into the Bear Cave by Alison Newvine

Public domain image https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t_5ijE-q1ss&feature=youtu.be For those of us in the Northern hemisphere, this time of year beckons us to slow down, rest and reflect. Many of us find ourselves torn between the demands and desires of the winter holiday season and our bodies’ instincts toward some form of hibernation. Heeding the wisdom of our animal nature can feel “wrong.” Patriarchal conditioning has taught us that slowing down, resting and moving out of productivity is lazy, shameful and dangerous. It takes intention and often considerable effort to move into the bear cave for some much needed rest and integration. This meditation track invites us along on the bear’s journey to her cave. The wisdom of her deliberate trek toward her resting place has a message for each of us. Along the way we are entranced by northern lights and winter skies, stirred by the solemn reminders that all life passes into death, and graced by the appearance of birds of prey, bison, wolves and, finally, the bear herself. “Into the Bear Cave,” is the first in a four-part series created by Spiral Muse drummer, singer and songwriter Dionne Kohler. Dionne’s channeled voices and rhythms invite us into different dimensions of consciousness. Going into the darkness of the cave nourishes our inner light, awakening yet untapped facets of our connection with the divine. Dionne believes that messages come from nature and the spirit world and can be channeled through the heartbeat of the drum. The full Bear Medicine Series is available on Youtube, Spotify, Amazon Music, Apple Music and other electronic platforms. https://www.magoism.net/2023/10/meet-mago-contributor-alison-newvine/
(Prose-Poetry) Be-ing In Your Embrace by Deanne Quarrie, D.Min.

Be-ing In Your Embrace I feel your breath on my skin like the gentle wind blowing in my face as I open the window to my garden in the morning. I breathe your air, feeling it enter me. It becomes our breath, our clean, sweet air. You surround me in vibrant color with red, yellow, purple, and blue wildflowers dancing at my feet. Sweet and pungent, your scent drifts toward me, warming me, reminding me of loves I have known. Memories of passion, each embrace a sacred moment with you. Dew-fresh, I am called to gaze upon your beauty. I touch your sweet petals; they unfold, soft as velvet to my touch. I am renewed with your awakening. My own heat rises as your sunlight streams upon me. With your energy pulsing through me I am transformed. Passion stirs in me. I am at once lifted, seeking and yearning for your embrace. Feeling my heart, beating to your rhythm, I am reminded of the joy in life. Your Holy Waters bring forth life. Sweet gentle stream, I lay beside you in such pleasure. I dream of loss, renewal, and then, hope. I feel the life force of my womb, which once brought forth life. I recognize your flow in my blood, my woman’s blood, now but a memory in this crone’s body, still strong and sure. Suddenly I am in all waters, first riding the wave of the ocean, reveling in the speed of my body moving with the wave, then in a cascading waterfall, which showers me in newness. I lie on the ground and feel you, Mother. Your cool, damp soil runs through my fingers, and I feel the moistness of your body. I am grounded, held close in your embrace. The grass nestles me in softness and I am strengthened by the simplicity of your care. I am healed by your love, Mother. Seeking to pull the warmth of your golden rays to me, I reach for you in the sky and feel your heat like that of a lover, quickening my pulse, my body longing for surrender. Earth and Water, Wind and Fire, you surround me all my days. All that my eyes gaze upon is of you, within me and without. Creatrix, Mother of All Life, I thank you for this experience of Be-ing in your embrace. (Meet Mago Contributor) Deanne Quarrie.

(Special Post) To Contributors: Strengthening Our Roots by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

Dear Contributors, Do you know that Return to Mago (RTM) E*Magazine is entering its fifth year this fall? And, thanks to our collective effort, we are still growing! As of today, our contributors have grown to more than 130 in number and our readership is from about 140 countries around the world. We have some hundred email followers as well as Wordpress blog followers. We draw 3000-4000 clicks per month on average; that is no small accomplishment for a Goddess blog that is named after a yet-to-be heard word, Mago (the Great Goddess), and that began from scratch.
(Special Post Isis 1) Why the Color of Isis Matters by Mago Circle Members

[Editor’s note: The discussion took place in Mago Circle during the month of July, 2013. Our heartfelt thanks go to the members who participated in this discussion with openness and courage.] Part 1 Is Isis White (European) or Black (African)? Harita Meenee What could Isis have to do with the political situation in Egypt? Read on to find out! Isis, Egypt and the Revolution For the past few years Egypt has felt like a second home to me. Some cherished friends and co-workers live there, to whom my thoughts often travel. Also, Isis, the Egyptian great goddess once worshiped all over the Mediterranean, has been an ever-present source of inspiration… By: Harita Meenee, Author https://www.facebook.com/notes/harita-meenee-author/isis-egypt-and-the-revolution/457348724361326 Rick Williams Isis and that picture for me is kind of offensive in 2013. KMT [Kemet, Egypt] and AUSET [Isis] “worship” is an oxymoron. Kahena Dorothea Can you explain, Rick Williams, how it is an oxymoron? I am curious. Rick Williams First, Auset as a deity was not a singularly honored symbolic personage. KMT taught principles of BALANCE and UNIVERSAL COSMOLOGICAL TRUTH. There are NO images from the dawn of that age depicting her as EUROPEAN. [Threads curtailed] Helen Hwang I would strongly suggest that Rick and others who see Rick’s point educate us in Mago Circle. I know this is very difficult but we are here to learn and express differences from each other. We are all centers and please share your perspective and knowledge so that others can learn. I am doing that with patience and tolerance as well. Thank you all! Rick Williams I try to be as honest and respectful when I can, Helen. I only personalize things when ONE person says something. Yet there are those who know that the people of that land now weren’t the same people who honored the deities of mythology and that image isn’t of Auset. When will folks stop promoting fictitious images and uneducated observations? I could have beat around the bush and politely asked about the statue, why that one isn’t truly the same of Auset’s time? Helen Hwang Okay, conflicts and contradictions are everywhere. Nonetheless, we can’t be beat by those. We are exploring ways to be empowered by addressing our differences in Mago Circle. We trust that we have good intentions and yet we are not perfect. I do Mago Circle and Return to Mago because I believe there is a way for us to meet and talk with our differences, I can’t let that hope go! Thank us for talking to each other. Naa Ayele Kumari I can see both points. Egypt has a long and ancient history… One filled with invaders.. wars.. people who stole the magic and manipulated it for their own purposes… Those invaders changed images to make them in their own reflections all the while slowly destroying the indigenous images of power and strength as well as the sacred tradition they were built on.. As a woman of African descent, it is sometimes difficult to see the Hellenistic images of our mother.. because her original images were a woman of color. Racism… whether we chose to admit it or not has played an immense part in our oppression as a people and that includes the struggle for Egypt today. It is especially a sensitive issue because those images play a role in how people see and view black women… even today. The dark goddess is stereotyped as being a part of our shadow while the white goddess is caste as being all that is good in the world. What black women struggle to tell the world is that those projections are simply racist projections… and so we reject them. Still, I recognize that people like to experience the divine in their own image and that our Mother has been taken around the world… and by extension absorbed many names and faces because after all, she is mother not to just Africans… but to the World. Right now, we have dominant tradition of Islam… that at its roots has a feminine basis… (Islam came from the word Isis) all the while oppressing women by its dogma. The indigenous people of Egypt, the Badarians and Nubians… are oppressed by Arab invaders who have taken control, projected their own religions all the while wanting to destroy the remainder of the images of the ancients. Injustice recognizes injustice… and all the ways that it shows up. At the root of Egypt…is Isis… called also Esi and Auset by the indigenous people. She has been oppressed by many layers of invaders… Her daughter’s voices have been muted… Timeless icon that she is, as the tides are turning, so are the heavy oppressions being lifted. Women are finding and re-remembering their power… and as they do… Mama Esi.. is taking back her throne. Naa Ayele Kumari This is the Isis on the walls and temples of Egypt. Harita Meenee Seeing the people of Egypt as all white or all Black means stereotyping them. In fact the inhabitants of Egypt are of different colors: some are white, others are Black and many others are something in-between. The same was true in antiquity and it’s reflected in Egyptian art. Rick Williams Harita, really? What does that have to do with your choice of misrepresentation of that image? Please enlighten me, thank you. Harita Meenee Τhere is no misrepresentation, dear Rick Williams. If you read my note carefully, you’ll see that it talks about Isis as a goddess who was worshiped all over the Mediterranean–I’m not referring to just her Egyptian manifestation. The statue depicted is in the National Archaeological Museum in Athens, Greece. I took this picture and processed it slightly so that it looks more like a painting than a sculpture. No change was made to the actual form or color of the statue. I’m attaching a photo of the museum label of this work of art. It may not be clearly visible, but it reads: Marble statue of the goddess Isis-Tyche-Pelagia. 1st-2nd century AD. The composite name means that, as was often the case in […]
(Special post) Laurie Baymarrwangga, Senior Australian of the Year 2012

Posted with permission in Return to Mago on ‘Australia Day’, 26 January 2014 (Australian time), in recognition of the ill-treatment and misunderstanding of Aboriginal people that was set in train when, in 1788, white people first settled in the land now known as Australia.

(Video) An Autumn Equinox Ceremony by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

Autumn Equinox/Mabon Northern Hemisphere – September 21-23 Southern Hemisphere – March 21-23 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lRJNY1LSvIs&t=1175s …oOo… The purpose of this video is for ceremony, and I suggest pausing the video where it suits you, to add your own processing, embellishments and/or your own drum, percussion and voice wherever you please. I have made short spaces in the video where it could be paused. The script for this Autumn Equinox/Mabon ceremony is offered in Chapter 11 of my book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony, with all acknowledgements and references there. In particular I mention here, credit for the story of Demeter and Persephone as told by Charlene Spretnak in her book Lost Goddesses of Early Greece. For more full participation in the ceremony, you could have one or more stalks of wheat or native grain tied with a red thread/ribbon, a garden pot with soil, a small garden trowel, a flower bulb (daffodil type), food and drink, that may represent your “harvest” – ready for eating and drinking. The elements of Water, Fire, Earth and Air on the altar in this video are placed in directions that are appropriate to my region in the Southern Hemisphere, and East Coast Australia: you may place yours differently, and transliterate when I mention the direction (which I do minimally). The images used are a collage of footage and photos from the 2024 Autumn Equinox ceremony at my place in Wakka Wakka country, South East Queensland Australia, and from previous Autumn Equinox ceremonies I facilitated over the decades in MoonCourt, Goddess ceremonial space in NSW Australia, Darug and Gundungurra country. My partner Robert (Taffy) Seaborne who has participated in all the Seasonal ceremonies since Samhain 2000, adds his voice to this video. Image credits: Demeter and Persephone (500 B.C.E. Greece). Hallie Iglehart Austen, The Heart of the Goddess, p.72. Art of Demeter and Persephone on MoonCourt wall: Cernak Herself Music credit: “Gentle Sorrow” by Sky: which he has previously allowed me to use in my work. This piece of music is also used in the Autumn Equinox meditation on my PaGaian Cosmology Meditations published 2015.
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/
(Prose) Desire: the Wheel of Her Creativity by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an edited excerpt from the concluding chapter (Chapter 8) of the author’s book PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion. Place of Being is a passionate place, where desire draws forth what is sought, co-creates what is needed[1]; within a con-text – a story – where love of self, other and all-that-is are indistinguishable … they are nested within each other and so is the passion for being. I begin to understand desire afresh: this renewed understanding has been an emergent property of the religious practice of seasonal celebration: that is, the religious practice of the ceremonial celebration of Her Creativity. It has been said She is “that which is attained at the end of desire[2].” Within the context of ceremonial engagement and inner search for Her, I begin to realize how desire turns the Wheel. As the light part of the cycle waxes from Early Spring, form/life builds in desire. At Beltaine/High Spring, desire runs wild, at Summer Solstice, it peaks into creative fullness, union … and breaks open at that interchange into the dark part of the cycle – the dissolution of Lammas/ Late Summer. She becomes the Dark One, who receives us back – the end of desire. It has been a popular notion in the Christian West, that the beautiful virgin lures men (sic) to their destruction, and as I perceive the Wheel, it is indeed Virgin who moves in Her wild delight towards entropy/dissolution; however in a cosmology that is in relationship with the dark, this is not perceived as a negative thing. Also, in this cosmology, there is the balancing factor of the Crone’s movement towards new life, in the conceiving dark space of Samhain/Deep Autumn – a dynamic and story that has not been a popular notion in recent millennia. Desire seems not so much a grasping, as a receiving, an ability or capacity to open and dissolve. I think of an image of an open bowl as a signifier of the Virgin’s gift. The increasing light is received, and causes the opening, which will become a dispersal of form – entropy, if you like: this is Beltaine/High Spring – the Desire[3]that is celebrated is a movement towards dis-solution … that is its direction. In contrast, and in balance, Samhain/Deep Autumn celebrates re-solution, which is a movement towards form – it is a materializing gathering into form, as the increasing darkness is received. It seems it is darkness that creates form, as it gathers into itself – as many ancient stories say, and it is light that creates dispersal. And yet I see that the opposite is true also. I think of how there is desire for this work that I have done, for whatever one does – it is then already being received. Desire is receiving. What if I wrote this, and it was not received or welcomed in some way. But the desire for it is already there, and perhaps the desire made it manifest. Perhaps the desire draws forth manifestation, even at Winter Solstice, even at Imbolc/Early Spring, as we head towards Beltaine – it is desire that is drawing that forth, drawing that process around. Desire is already receiving; it is open. Its receptivity draws forth the manifestation. And then the manifestation climaxes at Summer and dissolves into the manifesting, which is perhaps where the desire is coming from – the desire is in the darkness, in the dark’s receptivity[4]. It becomes very active at the time of Beltaine, it lures the differentiated beings back into Her. So the lure at Beltaine is the luring of differentiated beings into a Holy Lust, into a froth and dance of life, whereupon they dissolve ecstatically back into Her – She is “that which is attained at the end of Desire.” And in the dissolution, we sink deeper into that, and begin again. All the time, it is Desire that is luring the manifest into the manifesting, and the manifesting into the manifest. Passion is the glue, the underlying dynamic that streams through it all – through the light and the dark, through the creative triplicities of Virgin-Mother-Crone, of Differentiation-Communion-Autopoeisis[5]. Passion/Desire then is worthy of much more contemplation. If desire/allurement is the same cosmic dynamic as gravity, as cosmologist Brian Swimme suggests[6], then desire like gravity is the dynamic that links/holds us to our Place, to “that which is”, as philosopher Linda Holler describes the effect of gravity[7]. Held in relationship by desire/allurement we lose abstraction and artificial boundaries, and “become embodied and grow heavy with the weight of the earth[8].” We then know that “being is being-in relation-to”[9]. Holler says that when we think with the weight of Earth, space becomes “thick” as this “relational presence … turns notes into melodies, words into phrases with meaning, and space into vital forms with color and content, (and) also holds the knower in the world[10].”Thus, I at last become a particular, a subject, a felt being in the world – a Place laden with content, sentient: continuous with other and all-that-is. Notes: [1]“…as surely as the chlorophyll molecule was co-created by Earth and Sun, as Earth reached for nourishment; as surely as the ear was co-created by subject and sound, as the subject reached for an unknown signal.” As I have written in PaGaian Cosmology, p. 248. [2]Doreen Valiente, The Charge of the Goddessas referred to in Starhawk, The Spiral Dance, p.102-103. [3]I capitalize here, for it is a holy quality. [4]Perhaps the popular cultural association of the darkness/black lingerie etc. with erotica is an expression/”memory” of this deep truth. [5]These are the three qualities of Cosmogenesis, as referred to in PaGaian Cosmology, Chapter 4, “Cosmogenesis and the Female Metaphor”: https://pagaian.org/book/chapter-4/ [6]Brian Swimme, The Universe is a Green Dragon, p.43. [7]Linda Holler, “Thinking with the Weight of the Earth: Feminist Contributions to an Epistemology of Concreteness”, Hypatia, Vol. 5 No. 1, p.2. [8]Linda Holler, “Thinking with the Weight of the Earth: Feminist Contributions to an Epistemology of Concreteness”,Hypatia, Vol. …
(Essay) Contemplating How Her Creativity Proceeds by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an edited excerpt from the conclusion of chapter 5 of the author’s book, PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion. It is a chapter on the process of the Wheel of the Year. for the Northern Hemisphere version: https://pagaian.org/pagaian-wheel-of-the-year/ It seems to me that the main agenda of the Cosmos is ongoing Creativity, “never-ending renewal” it may be termed, and that this is expressed in Earth’s Seasonal Wheel through the transitions of Autumn,Winter, Spring, Summer; and in the ubiquitous process of a Cosmic Triplicity of Space to Be, Urge to Be and this Place of Being, a dynamic that has often been imagined as the Triple Goddess. In the flow of the PaGaian Wheel of the Year, the Seasonal transitions of the Wheel and the Triplicity of the Cosmos come together. There are two celebrations of the Old One/Crone or the Cosmogenetic quality of autopoiesis creating the Space to Be; and they are Lammas/Late Summer and Samhain/Deep Autumn, which are the meridian points of the two quarters of the waxing dark phase. At Lammas, the first in the dark phase, we may identify with the dark and ancient Wise One – dissolve into Her; at Samhain, we may consciously participate in Her process of the transformation of death/the passing of all. The whole dark part of the cycle is about dissolving/dying/letting go of being – becoming – nurturing it (the midwifing of Lammas/Late Summer), stepping into the power of it (the certain departure of Autumn Equinox/Mabon), the fertility (of Samhain/Deep Autumn), the peaking of it (at Winter Solstice). The meridian points of the two quarters of the waxing light phase then are celebrations of the Young One/Virgin or the Cosmogenetic quality of differentiation, the new continually emerging, the Urge to Be; and they are Imbolc/Early Spring and Beltaine/High Spring. At Imbolc, the first in the light phase, we may identify with She who is shining and new – as we take her form; at Beltaine, we may consciously participate in Her process of the dance of life. The whole light part of the cycle is about coming into being: nurturing it (the midwifing of Imbolc/Early Spring), stepping into the power of it (the certain return of Spring Equinox/Eostar), the fertility (of Beltaine/High Spring), the peaking of it (at Summer Solstice). In the PaGaian wheel of ceremony there are two particular celebrations of the Mother, the Cosmogenetic quality of communion; and they are the Solstices. If one imagines the light part of the cycle as a celebration of the ‘Productions of Time’, and the dark part of the cycle as a celebration of ‘Eternity’, the Solstices then are meeting points, points of interchange, and are celebrations of the communion/relational field of Eternity with the Productions of Time. This is a relationship which does happen in this Place, in this Web. This Place of Being, this Web, is a Communion – it is the Mother; the Solstices mark Her birthings, Her gateways. The Equinoxes then – both Spring and Autumn – are two celebrations wherein the balance of all three Faces/Creative qualities is particularly present: in the PaGaian wheel, the Equinoxes have been special celebrations of Demeter and Persephone – echoing the ancient tradition of Mother-Daughter Mysteries that celebrate the awesomeness of the continuity of life, its creative tension/balance. Both Equinoxes then are celebrations and contemplations of empowerment through deep Wisdom – one contemplation during the dark phase and one during the light phase. The Autumn Equinox is a descent to Wisdom, the Spring Equinox is an emergence with Wisdom gained. I like to think of the Equinoxes, and of the ancient icons of Demeter and Persephone, as celebrations of the delicate ‘curvature of space-time’, the fertile balance of tensions which enables it all. Her Creative Place The Mother aspect then may be understood to be particularly present at four of the Seasonal Moments, which are also regarded traditionally as the Solar festivals; and in this cosmology Sun is felt as Mother. I recognize these four as points of interchange: at Autumn Equinox, Mother is present primarily as Giver – She is letting Persephone go, at Spring Equinox, She is present primarily as Receiver – welcoming the Daughter back, at Winter Solstice the Mother gives birth, creates form, at Summer Solstice, She opens again full of radiance, and disperses form. The Mother is Agent/Actor at the Solstices. She is Participant/Witness at the Equinoxes, where it is then really Persephone who is Agent/Actor, embodying an inseparable Young One and Old One. The Old One is often named as Hecate, who completes the Trio – all seamlessly within each other. Another possible way to visual it, or to tell the story, is this: The Mother – Demeter – is always there, at the Centre if you like. Persephone cycles around. She is the Daughter who returns in the Spring as flower, who will become fruit/grain of the Summer, who at Lammas assents to the dissolution – the consumption. At Autumn Equinox She returns to the underworld as seed – Her harvest is rejoiced in, Her loss is grieved, as She becomes Sovereign of the Underworld – Her face changes to the Dark One, Crone (Hecate). As the wheel turns into the light part of the cycle She becomes Young One/Virgin again. Persephone (as Seed) is that part of Demeter that can be all three aspects – can move through the complete cycle. The Mother and Daughter are really One, and embody the immortal process of creation and destruction. Demeter hands Persephone the wheat, the Mystery, and the thread of life is unbroken – it goes on forever. It is immortal, it is eternal. Even though it is true that all will be lost, and all is lost – Being always arises again: within this field of time there is never-ending renewal, eternity. This is what is revealed in the ubiquitous three faces of the Creative Dynamic/ She of Old, the Triplicity that runs through the Cosmos. The Seed of Life never …
(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
A Southern Hemisphere Perspective on Place by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

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

(Video) The Mago Work by Mago Sisters by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

https://www.youtube.com/watch?list=PL-hbgxa5v1IfUM6h6PvOTpLe8fLv5ExRG&v=HUM6EQ7sEaQ
(Mago Almanac Basics 1) What is the Magoist Calendar? by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

[Author’s Note: I have created 13 basics of Mago Almanac, which are included in Mago Almanac Planner for Personal Journey: 13 Month 28 Day Calendar (Volume 6), Year 6 or 5920 MAGOMA ERA (Equivalent to 2023 CE). These 13 basics constitute the backbone of Magoist Cetaceanism as well.] It is a 13 month 28 day luni-menstrual-solar calendar of Old Magoist Korea. Insofar as one year marks about 365.25 days, a time taken for the earth to revolve around the sun, it is a solar calendar. The fact that both the moon and the female menstruation cycle mark 28 days, which makes 13 months or 364 days for one year. This makes approximately 1.25 a surplus. Thus, we have days outside the calendar grid. Each year has one extra day on the day before the New Year’s day. The New Year of Year 1 or 5915 Magoma Era was set on the new moon date before Winter Solstice in 2018 by the Gregorian Calendar. With one extra day, the year makes 365 days. Given that the actual period of the Earth’s revolution is approximately 365.25 days, we have the second extra day every fourth year. Setting aside the extra days, we have 364 days for one year. 364 days divided by 28 days is 13. That is how we have 13 months in a year. The Magoist Calendar championing the matricentric worldview is the very indication that our Mother Earth is stabilized in her own voyages. https://www.magobooks.com/update-on-mago-books/mago-almanac-13-month-28-day-calendar-book-a/ https://www.magoism.net/2013/07/meet-mago-contributor-helen-hwang/
(Video) Gurang (Nine Goddesses), Gaeyang Halmi (Grandma Gaeyang), and Goddess Gom: Exploring Old Magoism in Korea by Helen Hwang

Meet Mago Contributor, Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D. Read (Photo Essay 5) Gaeyang Halmi, Sea Goddess of Korea.