February 1, 2021December 31, 2020 Glenys D. LivingstoneLeave a comment

(Essay 3) Crack in the Alienated Colonised Mind by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is part 3 of an edited excerpt from the author’s Introduction to her book PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion. The book is based on her doctoral thesis Read More …

(Photo Essay 2) Grandmothers by Kaalii Cargill

The so called “Venus” figurines are figures from prehistory that I prefer to call “Grandmothers”. The figurines were carved from soft stone, bone or ivory, or formed of clay and fired. Over the last 5 years, I have been visiting with the Grandmothers. This series of posts includes images and impressions of those visits. Delphi, Greece When I think of standing in Delphi, I remember the mountains and the cicadas. Before the sanctuary at Delphi was dedicated to Apollo, the sibyls/ wisewomen resided in a cave high on the slopes of Mt Parnassus (2,457 m /8,061 ft above sea level). Temple of Apollo, Delphi I walked among the classical ruins – the temple, the sibyl rock, the tholos – and drank from the Castalian Spring. Tholos, Temple of Athena, Delphi Sitting in the shade of an olive tree, listening to the cicadas, I understood why the ancient Greeks represented music as a cicada sitting on a harp. Surely the people walking there thousands of years ago heard the same song . . . Olive trees on the path to the Tholos, Delphi The Corycian Cave sits high above the temple ruins. The landscape holds the memories and meaning of this place – the long, slow climb up the side of the mountain, the flickering shadows beneath the fir trees, the ever-present cicadas. I visited the cave alone, entering through the small opening, climbing down the rocky slope into a vast cavern (90m long, 60m wide, 50 m high). Entrance to Corycian Cave Main cavern, Corycian Cave In the half light, the huge stalagmites emerged from the shadows – Grandmothers waiting forever for us to remember them. Formed by Nature over millennia, these figures echo the shapes of prehistory Grandmother figurines. Grandmother stalagmite, Corycian Cave Water drops fell slowly from the roof of the cave, taking all the time in the world to form the next layer on the silent guardians of the cave. I listened for Her voice. Between the soft sound of dropping water there was only silence – a deep, eternal silence. Water drops, Corycian Cave Meet Mago Contributor KAALII CARGILL
(Poem) The Mother of Us All by Mary Saracino

“God was female for at least the first 200,000 years of human life on earth.” ~Barbara Mor & Monica Sjoo, The Great Cosmic Mother For 200,000 years we called you Mother honored the blood-red kisses you planted on our upturned brows. How did we forget our original womb from which we sprang, our hearts open our mouths searching for the nipple? Hungry now, we cry out lost between liminal memory and sacred thought, aching to return home. You are the primal seed, the gestation that bears all hope sustains us through drought and famine disease and dire sorrow. We spoke our first words to your wide eyes. Abundantly you reflected our future back into our open, expectant faces. Your sturdy hands cradled our fragile bones mended our tender muscles, ushered us into the bright round world of sky and earth, water and wood. In your breath, myth and memory merged science was born, art echoed its wisdom on the cool walls of dank caves language danced on the tongue-tips of cooing babies. You suckled our dreams as we tended community fires. You fed us stories to satiate the bellies of our minds, satisfy our growling need to fathom the unknowable. Sky lords severed our jubilant tongues, uncoiled your spiral, fabricated straight lines where once circles spun. Subjugation overthrew cooperation. Where once peace rivered through our veins, blood froze fearful of the silencing sword’s metallic, bitter edge. The icy marrow of amnesia impeded our way, although the moon and the stars, the sun and the winds always whispered your name, coaxing us to awaken from our long, fitful slumber. Though our twenty-first century minds may fail us, our cells remember: all life swells within the folds of your milky skirt, spinning and leaping out of darkness into light then back again into the primal, original sigh. All death awaits your embrace, the final kiss of comfort releasing us into the crook of your welcoming elbow nestling us into the soft curve of your breast — home once more the terrible exile undone at long, long last. Note: “The Mother of Us All” was originally published in OCHRE: Journal of Women’s Spirituality, Spring 2007 Mary Saracino is a novelist, poet, and memoir writer who lives in Denver, Colorado. She is the co-editor She Is Everywhere! Volume 3: an anthology of writings in womanist/feminist spirituality (iUniverse 2012). Her most recent novel, The Singing of Swans (Pearlsong Press, 2006) was a 2007 Lambda Literary Awards Finalist. Her forthcoming novel, Heretics, will be published in 2014 by Pearlsong Press. For more information about Mary visit: www.marysaracino.com; www.pearlsong.com/newsroom/marysaracino/marysaracino.htm; www.redroom.com/author/mary-saracino; http://www.authorsden.com/marysaracino; http://sheiseverywhere.net
(Prose) The Meraki Epic: A Creative Way to Honor our Transcendent Experiences by Alaya Advaita Dannu

Author’s Note: This essay is an excerpt from my eBook, “Chronicles of the Forbidden Scripture: Book I – Origins The Primordial”. I love telling a story about things that are unbelievably true. Stories that can inspire people to transcend their boundaries, to take that leap of faith; stories filled with myth and magic to potentially propel us into a state of never-ending ecstasy, peace, and joy. But I do not want to tell stories that are fictional or speak of events that I have not personally experienced. If I am going to speak of myth and magic, I hope to have experienced a bit of it first, so that anyone can experience the essence of it through the written word. Meraki is a Greek word that appeared on my Facebook feed sometime during the year 2013. Roughly translated, it means “the essence of yourself that is put into your work; the soul, creativity or love put into something.”[1] I instantly fell in love with the idea of the word because it was succinct in describing my goal to express my creativity inspired by the dreams I have had and continue to experience. I want everything I do to be imbued with the essence of myself. Our dreams are closer to us than the blood that runs through our veins. They are at the foundation of our thoughts, beliefs and creative output. The narratives in my book are meant to embody an aspect of my origin story. Ultimately, that is what the Meraki Epic seeks to achieve: to provide an epic vessel crafted from the creative weaving of words. What is an Epic? In addition to meaning something phenomenal or spectacular, it is a long narrative that recounts the heroic journey of one or more persons. It is distinguishable from other genres of writing via its elements of superhuman achievements, stylized language, and spectacular adventures. Writing a Meraki epic is a means to transmit tradition from one generation to another – from the intangible to the tangible and requires the aspirant to utilize a variety of resources to express themselves, transcendent experiences being the required element to draw upon for inspiration. One of the key mediums used to support this process is a genre of music created solely for storytelling, called epic or trailer music. This type of music does not carry with it the composer’s emotional imprint, leaving a perfectly blank canvas on which to create something new in each listen. Music expresses feelings and themes which effects people on a deep spiritual level. It can change the flow of energy within and the mood of listeners. To listen to a composition that is created specifically for storytelling, providing a blank canvas at every new listen, is a supportive means of honoring the integrity of the information that is being transmitted. Why epic music? Remember, the goal here is to transmit the essence of your transcendent experiences from one generation to another, whilst maintaining the integrity of the information. While all personal reflections and private journal entries are of value and considered worthy of passing down from one generation to another, keeping in line with the essence of an epic and the nature of dreamwork, epic music is the perfect choice for this genre of writing. This form of creative writing seeks to be an authentic, creative and experiential process of writing and storytelling. (Meet Mago Contributor Alaya Advaita Dannu) ___________________________________________________ [1] An untranslatable word pronounced as may-rah-kee. It is not found in a common dictionary.
(Essay 2) Feminism and the Future of Religion by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

Meet Mago Contributor, Glenys Livingstone. Part 2 of a paper presented by the author at the National Socialist Conference Sydney, 1990. Feminism is not the only force pushing change to old stories, symbols, myths and images, but it is a significant one. And it has yet enormous resources, a labyrinth of archetypes and energy suppressed for thousands of years, gestating and complexifying, that have the power to scrape clear our eyes of the “learned cataracts”[1]. Interest in the Goddess archetype/metaphor and in Her religious traditions have grown visibly and audibly in the last 15 years, here in Australia. For some She is merely a cliche at this point, but that is an inevitable part of the process, a hurdle that can eventually be broken through in the bigger picture. The vision of the Earth as Gaia, a living being, as Goddess, is one that is gaining in strength. It has at its core, an ancient and wholistic understanding of Being, that can call humanity into different relationship with itself and with the universe. But real change is not inevitable. Even people who think they have changed (because they changed a pronoun, or pasted in a goddess), have not necessarily. Ongoing feminist critique and reflection is necessary to ensure the healing of fragmented archetypes that have confined us all. We must continue to speak, to review, to suspect, to research. We cannot make assumptions, we are a long way from having arrived at some kind of real inclusiveness and partnership. The old well-worn pathways are not that easily given over. It seems that there are a couple of clear directions pulling at the future of religion, as the feminist momentum continues to impact on it. And indeed it must be a worry for the religious powers that be. Those directions I describe as shamanic and pagan, which I will define in my own particular way, as follows. By shamanic, I mean that individuals are “storying” themselves, knowing themselves and thinking from within their own skin. Shamanism relies on direct lived experience for an understanding of the sacred, as opposed to relying on an external authority, external imposed symbol, story or image. Each person must claim their own inner power, imagine or visualize themselves and use this in the service of life. Myth/story which arises from within draws its power from a realm of pattern “which is common to people of all cultures and all times”[2]. The archetypes that arise, have done so since ancient times and have recurred across many cultures, in a diversity of form. This shamanic direction tends to come out of a feminist spirituality because here, women have learned to no longer take things on faith or presciption. It is a tendency of feminism to cure one from swallowing pre-scribed religion – all holy texts and myths must be reflected on suspiciously given their millenia of androcratic bias – and one is entered into the process of self-scription, of authoring, scribing oneself. Religion then becomes based on what we can feel, what we can know. We each then find “for ourselves our individual role in the matrix”[3], a way in which each being is part of the texture of the universal fabric. We are linked by a recognition in each other of a power that arises from within, not by some external word.
(Book Excerpt 1) Wounded Feminine: Grieving with Goddess Edited by Claire Dorey, Pat Daly, and Trista Hendren

[Editor’s Note: This and subsequent excerpt parts are from the anthology entitled Wounded Feminine: Grieving with Goddess, published by Girl God Books (2024).] IntroductionClaire Dorey When state and religion collude to cement masculine power and undermine and control women it makes sense to look to a spiritual age, before patriarchy even existed, where the Goddess held the power. Here the energy is compassionate, fierce and gentle, empowering and nurturing, creative and destructive, honouring every aspect of the Feminine. We are mermaids treading water in an unfamiliar new world with all that grief releases rising to the surface. Grief is a broken heart making sense of love and loss. It’s milk and honey and tears of blood. It’s a detour into a labyrinth to meet the dark stuff on the ‘straight line’ of our life plan. It’s the cinematic subconscious processing difficult emotion in the Gothic shadows – Shock – Denial – Rage – whilst life goes on for others out there in the sunshine. To grieve is to feel alone. “What cannot be said will be wept.” -Sappho What if I told you the Goddess holds space beneath her wings for those who seek it? The collective voice is a healing voice. Inviting shared experience into the Goddess Space is cathartic for those who tell their stories and healing for recipients. Here the gentle, nurturing Siren blows a blue bubble of hope deep beneath the ocean. The yoni portal opens within the pages of a book. Words are spoken in sacred circles raising vibration. The Grief Space is a wild cocoon for magic and alchemy – a doorway to self-expression, access to the dark shadow, a catalyst for change. Cry your tears and imagine negative experiences transforming into wisdom. It is ok to be wounded – in fact it is healthy to ‘crumble’. We all need space to retreat, go inward, free from judgement and time as a monetised commodity, to sit with emotion and find our source of internal power. When we have ‘processed’ our filter will naturally weed out what we no longer need. We grieve the loss of what is important: loved ones, relationships, our youth, health, and our rights and freedoms because attachment is part of the human condition. Perhaps we grieve for our loss of innocence, for the person we might have been if we weren’t victim to war, abuse, and violence. Grief resonates within all of us somewhere. We all have a story to tell. There is hope to pass on. “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” -Maya Angelou Perhaps we feel nothing. Then just when we think we are ‘over it’ grief creeps up on us. Trauma is incurred. Trauma is released. All this confusion, making sense of things – it’s a vulnerable time. Wherever the vulnerable are there will be predators. Perhaps the Banshee howl was a very vocal show of female force warning circling predators, “beware the matriarch is watching.” As gate keepers, women were on the front line of life and death. We were the mothers, the midwives, the light worker alchemists and soul custodians, ensuring women survived birth and maintained control over their own bodies. The Three Fates were the cutters of the umbilical thread and spinners of destiny. The funerary Goddess assisted the soul to the afterlife. This was where the power was and it was in women’s hands. See now why patriarchy set about erasing women’s matrilineal power? Where women once held the Grief Space open, capitalist patriarchy shut it down because it fears emotion in the same way Zeus feared Nyx and sailors feared the Siren, sailing on past before emotions, expressed as soulful song, dragged them down! Emotion, public displays of emotion and the emotions of others became a source of shame. Feelings were too complex to understand so they avoided them. In the hands of the unscrupulous, the Grief Space became the Guilt Space, a place of dysfunction and propaganda, ritualised ostracism and humiliating misogyny with threats of hell and damnation. They hijacked the Goddess: in the name of Sati, they burnt widows alive. Vulnerable women have been shaved, told they are too ‘hysterical’ for funerals, buried alive, coerced into drinking the deceased’s bathwater or forced into a lifetime of mourning. Hope was replaced with solitude, bleakness, and black robes, turning sadness into loneliness, stunting a woman’s potential to grow and transform through the grieving process. How mean is that! Cultural and historical practices vary. The collective female voice of the keening Banshees thrust death into the public domain. In India ‘crying ladies’ (the Rudaali) are available for hire and in ancient Egypt professional mourners dressed up as the Goddess Isis and Nephthys and temples thrummed with dance and music. The Day of the Dead, the dance of the pall bearers, the funerary Haka, the Jazz funeral and Vodou death rituals are a few more examples of how humanity copes with loss. To the detriment of the entire human race, unprocessed grief can escalate to the stuff of nightmares. “He had also war to help to relieve his sorrow.” -Tacitus, Roman Historian War is not a cure for male depression. Patriarchy needs both men and women to be emotionless because most of the things it requires us to tolerate are quite unacceptable. The gaping hole in men stems from the loss of nurture that only a matriarchal society can give them. Subconsciously, patriarchy still grieves this loss. “Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life.…” -Carl Jung Goddess honours emotion and cuts through the aloneness of grief, showing us we are connected to greatness as part of a huge cosmic cycle: birth, death, rebirth. She shows us how destruction makes way for creation, all of which is governed by Mother Nature. She shows us how spirit lives on as vibration. Goddess provides a safe space for the living to grieve. Tanit’s arms are open, so too are the wings of Isis. Cybele’s pollen-infused refuge …
(Poem) A Desert by William Matthews

Acacia In Khadra Desert Oasis from Wikimedia Commons The world is a desert exclaiming that “I need water”-Roots reaching out, desperate, only for the water to be dried by the sun’s slaughter-Burned away into vapor before a chance to enjoy a sip, even one-The sun exclaims “you don’t need it, you are mine”-As the vapor ascends, disappears, the sun scorches the mind-Insanity creeps in if your shriveled body has a brain-Dreaming of water or vapor or anything it’s all the same-Oppressed by the fire watching from on high-Snuffing out refreshment if it meets his eye-You dare not creep, search, or mine-Fear of burning away the precious find-Draw no attention, stay in your place-But deep in your roots you know your are soon to waste-You search the skies for maybe a cloud-But none in site, nothing around-Just burning, scorch, and sear-Pray my child, pray for anywhere but here-The tree is gone-The sun burned it away-It charred husk is all that remains-But my my what is this?The desert wind blows and seed is picked away with a kiss-Carried far on winds like the grains of sand-Away from the glare of the sun and the damnedable land-Coming to rest in grass to sweet-Near brooks so clear and gardens neat-Growing tall, strong, and straight-Branches outstretched with blooms so great-Children play underneath your shade-Prayers answered in the spirits own way- https://www.magoism.net/2024/01/meet-mago-contributor-william-matthews/
Meet Mago Contributor, Samantha Ledger

Samantha Ledger is a writer of poetry and prose; she is also a photographer and a day dreamer. Her creative endeavours are inspired from the English countryside she grew up in and the dark side of humanity, spirituality and love. Her work aims to highlight the force of woman, its frailties and its strengths, and to mimic that awesome force and beauty with words. Her work has been featured in a number of online and print journals. She lives in Lightwater, England. Her last collection of poetry Bells for Her, was published by Neopoiesis Press in 2009. For more information visit: http://www.neopoiesispress.com/12401/35512.html Published posts from the recent:
After the Crowning by Sara Wright

Photo by Sara Wright After the Crowning Emerald and lime chartreuse lemon burgundy burnt umber leafy green breath transformer palms and needles raining light. magic bean spirals skyward star gazing ferns feather paths pearls at my feet wild lilies woodland valley brook scarlet roots hug weeping fruit trees conversing underground pollinated rose petals nourish moist earth each tear slips away bowed deep gratitude, a grieving moment a thousand bees hum as One. This cycle ends even as another has begun. May is such a tender month that ends on a poignant note – ‘the travelers’ (migrating birds) bring in each day with a symphony, bare branches are budding, bloodroot unfurling, arbutus trailing, violet hearts breaking ground, Solomons seal, three lobed trillium, ajuga spikes, stately Jack in the pulpits, bouquets of buttery button marsh marigolds, trilling gray tree frogs, tadpoles swarming in the pond, one green frog I name Hunter is visiting with the tadpoles and hunting on warm stones. All this precedes the Crowning, which comes at the end of May when every fruit tree cluster opens her blossoms to the bees, and I become one with all there is under a flowering rose crabapple just outside my door. Between intoxicating scent and bee hum… we are bound as one. Today light rain breaks the stillness rustling leaves as I stand at the door watching withering blossoms, mauve, and burgundy, pale pink and pearl white petals drift reluctantly to the ground. Yet under every fruit tree summer snow tears will nourish mycelial threads, worm rich soil and the fungal network below. Although this isn’t the end of spring, the crowning of the fruit trees has been accomplished, and I am never ready to let go. The next round has already begun with the rain that turns each deciduous leaf a deeper shade of emerald or lime. All deciduous tree limbs sway gracefully bending with butterfly leaves that bow to airy southern breezes. Hay Ferns create a graceful edging inviting me down a mossy path to listen to the soothing sound of water on stone. Maidenhair fern is still unfolding and mayapple blossoms come and go, five petaled flowers always hidden under scalloped umbrellas. Although some wildflowers like the trillium have gone by the forget me nots ajuga and columbine are just beginning, bleeding hearts arc and bow to the burgeoning green and my paths are thick with verdant almond leaves – wild lily of the valley is replacing the twinflowers along with pyrola bells and lady slippers and a thousand other ephemeral beauties. Later canada mayflowers and stars of bethlehem will grace the green. Lupine spires violet, blue, purple, pink and lavender become steeples in the field. Wild roses are still prickly canes. At the end of next month just as the solstice passes lemon lilies will mark one of the most endearing fragrances of the season. Milkweed balls not only bring in the butterflies but mark the last sweet fragrance when they appear in early July. After this there is a natural break for late July and August heat before fall wildflowers begin to bloom, pale blue and violet asters float through sprays of goldenrod, milkweed pods sail away in tiny parachutes, one seed makes a landing caught by a tree. Nature’s native plants move in perfect time with the seasonal changes. In another week I will take to the woods splitting my time between here and there. For the week of the Crowning and until the last petal drops, I am fully present to now, celebrating this jewel of field, stream and forest, my home. June is lady slipper month with delicate anemones still in bloom in shaded nooks, wild cucumber rounds, blue bead lilies, partridge berry trumpets. Too many to mention. Many woodland flowers will be pollinated by the same bumblebees that have been gracing fruit trees here. But not until the old – fashioned hydrangea blooms will they gather by the thousands to sing again in one collective hum bringing summer to an end. It fascinates me how nature plans for summer’s fierce light and heat – birds migrate, nest/give birth in the spring – all trees leaf out but native trees and shrubs and wildflowers bloom throughout the spring. Almost all have set seed by the solstice (with some exceptions). My cherry trees are already seeding up as are the buttery celandine. After the solstice the trees will shut down their photosynthesizing on hot summer afternoons… birds trees plants and other wildlife are still, resting – nature loves mornings and evenings – noonday she can do without – it’s the same with me! I am forever grateful that the forests hide rare wildflowers for those who cherish them. Gray frogs have been singing for two months; soon toads will be thrumming. In the lowlands hobblebush is birthing fruits that turn bittersweet or crimson. Some nesting warblers and other birds continue conversing with young; others like one titmouse is still lining a nest. Migration has peaked but this one is not a traveler. In the bogs the first orchids stick out fuzzy white and pale pink tongues. Pitcher plants seduce the unwary sending burgundy flowers into the air to attract their prey. Turtles dig deep in sand to lay their eggs. Viburnum clusters are blushing. There is so much to look forward to, and yet today I mourn one moon cycle that that passed by too soon… https://www.magoism.net/2014/12/meet-mago-contributor-sara-wright
(Art) Red Madonna by Shiloh Sophia

A Blessing Let us dwell within the Cathedral of Her Heart.

(Special post) The Goddess Inanna: Her Allies and Opponents by Hearth Moon Rising

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

The contribution of my writing to Return to Mago E-Magazine has evolved since it began four years ago, into a deeply mutually enhancing relationship. The time and effort taken to write carefully and in alignment with my heartfelt passions and insights, and then to be able to publish to a receptive audience, has always been rewarding – for me personally and apparently for many who received it.
(Special Post) BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE FOR EL PASO ARTIST MARIO COLÍN by Donna Snyder

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

A PaGaian Wheel of the Year and Her Creativity by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an excerpt from Chapter 2 of the author’s new book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. for larger image see: https://pagaian.org/pagaian-wheel-of-the-year/ Essentially a PaGaian Wheel of the Year celebrates Cosmogenesis – the unfolding of the Cosmos, none of which is separate from the unfolding of each unique place/region, and each unique being. This creativity of Cosmogenesis is celebrated through Earth-Sun relationship as it may be expressed and experienced within any region of our Planet. PaGaian ceremony expresses this with Triple Goddess Poetry understood to be metaphor for the creative dynamics unfolding the Cosmos. At the heart of the Earth-Sun relationship is the dance of light and dark, the waxing and waning of both these qualities, as Earth orbits around our Mother Sun. This dance, which results in the manifestation of form and its dissolution (as expressed in the seasons), happens because of Earth’s tilt in relationship with Sun: because this effects the intensity of regional receptivity to Sun’s energy over the period of the yearly orbit. This tilt was something that happened in the evolution of our planet in its earliest of days – some four and a half billion years ago,[i] and then stabilised over time: and the climatic zones were further formed when Antarctica separated from Australia and South America, giving birth to the Antarctica Circumpolar Current, changing the circulation of water around all the continents … just some thirty million years ago.[ii] Within the period since then, which also saw the advent of the earliest humans, Earth has gone through many climatic changes. It is likely that throughout those changes, the dance of light and dark in both hemispheres of the planet … one always the opposite of the other – has been fairly stable and predictable. The resultant effect on flora and fauna regionally however has varied enormously depending on many other factors of Earth’s ever-changing ecology: She is an alive Planet who continues to move and re-shape Herself. She is Herself subject to the cosmic dynamics of creativity – the forming and the dissolving and the re-emerging. The earliest of humans must have received all this, ‘observed’ it in a very participatory way: that is, not as a Western industrialized or dualistic mind would think of ‘observation’ today, but as kin with the events – identifying with their own experience of coming into being and passing away. There is evidence (as of this writing) to suggest that humans have expressed awareness of, and response to, the phenomenon of coming into being and passing away, as early as one hundred thousand years ago: ritual burial sites of that age have been found,[iii] and more recently a site of ongoing ritual activity as old as seventy thousand years has been found.[iv] The ceremonial celebration of the phenomenon of seasons probably came much later, particularly perhaps when humans began to settle down. These ceremonial celebrations of seasons apparently continued to reflect the awesomeness of existence as well as the marking of transitions of Sun back and forth across the horizon, which became an important method of telling the time for planting and harvesting and the movement of pastoral animals. It seems that the resultant effect of the dance of light and dark on regional flora and fauna, has been fairly stable in recent millennia, the period during which many current Earth-based religious practices and expression arose. In our times, that is changing again. Humans have been, and are, a major part of bringing that change about. Ever since we migrated around the planet, humans have brought change, as any creature would: but humans have gained advantage and distinguished themselves by toolmaking, and increasingly domesticating/harnessing more of Earth’s powers – fire being perhaps the first, and this also aided our migration. In recent times this harnessing/appropriating of Earth’s powers became more intense and at the same time our numbers dramatically increased: and many of us filled with hubris, acting without consciousness or care of our relational context. We are currently living in times when our planet is tangibly and visibly transforming: the seasons themselves as we have known them for millennia – as anyone’s ancestors knew them – appear to be changing in most if not all regions of our Planet. Much predictable Poetry – sacred language – for expressing the quality of the Seasonal Moments will change, as regional flora changes, as the movement of animals and birds and sea creatures changes, as economies change.[v]In Earth’s long story regional seasonal manifestation has changed before, but not so dramatically since the advent of much current Poetic expression for these transitions, as mixed as they are with layers of metaphor: that is, with layers of mythic eras, cultures and economies. We may learn and understand the traditional significance of much of the Poetry, the ceremony and symbol – the art – through which we could relate and converse with our place, as our ancestors may have done, but it will continue to evolve as all language must. In PaGaian Cosmology I have adapted the Wheel as a way of celebrating the Female Metaphor and also as a way of celebrating Cosmogenesis, the Creativity that is present really/actually in every moment, but for which the Seasonal Moments provide a pattern/Poetry over the period of a year – in time and place. The pattern that I unfold is a way in which the three different phases/characteristics interplay. In fact, the way in which they interplay seems infinite, the way they inter-relate is deeply complex. I think it is possible to find many ways to celebrate them. There is nothing concrete about the chosen story/Poetry, nor about each of the scripts presented here, just as there is nothing concrete about the Place of Being – it (She) is always relational, a Dynamic Interchange. Whilst being grounded in the “Real,” the Poetry chosen for expression is therefore at the same time, a potentially infinite expression, according to the heart and mind of the storyteller. NOTES: [i] See Appendix C, *(6), Glenys Livingstone, A Poiesis of the Creative …
(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
(Essay) Summer Solstice/Litha Within the Creative Cosmos by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an edited excerpt from Chapter 9 of the author’s book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. The dates for Summer Solstice/Litha are: Southern Hemisphere – December 20-23 Northern Hemisphere – June 20-23 A Summer Solstice altar The ‘moment of grace’[i] that is Summer Solstice, marks the stillpoint in the height of Summer, when Earth’s tilt causes the Sun to begin its ‘decline’: that is, its movement back to the North in the Southern Hemisphere, and back to the South in the Northern Hemisphere. This Seasonal Moment is polar opposite Winter Solstice when it is light that is “born,” as it may be expressed. At the peak of Summer, in the bliss of expansion, it is the dark that is “born.” Insofar as Winter Solstice is about birth, then Summer Solstice is about death. It is a celebration of profound mystical significance, that may be confronting in a culture where the dark is not valued for its creative telios. Summer Solstice is a time for celebrating our realized Creativity, whose birth we celebrated at Winter Solstice, whose tenderness we dedicated ourselves to at Imbolc/Early Spring, whose certain presence and power we rejoiced in at Spring Equinox, whose fertile passion we danced for at Beltaine/High Spring. Now, at this seasonal point, as we celebrate light’s fullness, we celebrate our own ripening – like that of the wheat, and the fruit. And like the wheat and the fruit, it is the Sun that is in us, that has ripened: the Sun is the Source of our every thought and action. The analogy is complete in that our everyday creativity – our everyday actions, and we, ultimately, are also “Food for the Universe”[ii] … it is all how we feed the Universe. flowers to flames – everyday creativity consumed Like the Sun and the wheat and the fruit, we find the purpose of our Creativity in the releasing of it; just as our breath must be released for its purpose of life. The symbolism used to express this in ceremony has been the giving of a full rose/flower to the flames.[iii] We, and our everyday creativity, are the “Bread of Life,” as it may be expressed; just as many other indigenous traditions recognize everyday acts as evoking “the ongoing creation of the cosmos,”[iv] so in this tradition, Summer is the time for particularly celebrating that. Our everyday lives, moment to moment, are built on the fabric of the work/creativity of the ancestors and ancient creatures that went before us; and so the future is built on ours. We are constantly consuming the work and creativity of others and we are constantly being consumed. The question may be asked: “Who are you feeding?,”[v] and consideration given to whether you are happy with the answer. It is the Sun that is in you. See how you shine. Summer Solstice is a celebration of the Fullness of the Mother – in ourselves, in Earth, in the Cosmos. We are the Sun, coming to fullness in its creative engagement with Earth. We affirm this in ceremony with: “It is the Sun that is in you, see how you shine.” It is the ripening of Her manifestation, which fulfills itself in the awesome act of dissolution. This is the mystery of the Moment. Brian Swimme has described this mystery of radiance as a Power of the Universe, as Radiance: the shining forth of the self is at the same time a give-away, a decline of the self – just as the Sun is constantly giving itself away. This Solstice Moment of Summer is a celebration of communion, the feast of life – which is for the enjoying, not for the holding onto. Summer and Winter Solstices are Gateways – between the manifest and the manifesting, and Summer Solstice is a Union/Re-Union of these, a kind of meeting with the deeper self. Winter Solstice may be more of a separation, though it is usually experienced as joyful, because it is also a meeting, as the new is being brought forth. The interchange of Summer Solstice may be experienced as an entry into loss – the Cosmological Dynamic of Loss, as manifestation passes. Beltaine, Summer Solstice and Lammas – the next Seasonal Moment, may be felt as the three faces of Cosmogenesis in the movement towards entropy.[vi] The light part of the annual cycle of Earth around Sun is a celebration of the Young One/Virgin quality of Cosmogenesis, with Her face gradually changing to the Mother/Communion quality; and through the Autumn, the dark part of the annual cycle, it is a celebration of the Old One/Crone quality, whose face will gradually change also, back to the Mother/Communion. They are never separate.In this cosmology, desire for full creativity has been celebrated as the allurement of the Cosmos, and being experienced as gravity, as relationship with Earth, our place of being, how She holds us. At both Solstices there is celebration of deep engagement, communion. REFERENCES: Livingstone, Glenys. A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. Girl God Books: Bergen, Norway, 2023. Spretnak, Charlene. States of Grace: The Recovery of Meaning in the Postmodern Age. San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1993. Starhawk. The Spiral Dance: A Rebirth of the Ancient Religion of the Great Goddess. New York: Harper and Row, 1999. Swimme, Brian. Canticle to the Cosmos. DVD series. CA: Tides Foundation, 1990. NOTES: [i] As Thomas Berry named the Seasonal transitions. [ii] Swimme uses this expression in Canticle to the Cosmos, video 5 “Destruction and Loss.” [iii] This is based on the traditional Litha (Summer Solstice) rite described by Starhawk, The Spiral Dance, 206. [iv] Spretnak, States of Grace, 95. [v] As Swimme asks in Canticle to the Cosmos, video 5 “Destruction and Loss.” [vi] Just as Samhain, Winter Solstice and Imbolc may be felt as the three faces of Cosmogenesis in the movement towards toward form – syntropy.
(Essay) Ceremony as “Prayer” or Sacred Awareness By Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an excerpt from Chapter 3 of the author’s new book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. MoonCourt Ceremonial Space set for Autumn Equinox ceremony, 2013 Ritual/ceremony is often described as “sacred space.” I understand that to mean “awareness of the space as sacred”: all space is sacred, what shifts is our awareness – awareness of the depth of spacetime, and of the depth of all things and all beings. I understand “sacred awareness” as an awareness of deep relationship and identity with the very cosmic dynamics that create and sustain the Universe; or an awareness of what is involved in the depth of each moment, each thing, each being. Ceremony is a space and time given to expression, contemplation and nurturance of that depth … at least to something of it. Ceremony may be both an expression of deep inner truths – perceived relationship to self, Earth and Cosmos, as well as being a mode of teaching and drawing forth deeper participation. Essentially, ceremony is a way of entering into the depth of the present moment … what is deeply present right here and now, a way of entering deep space and deep time, which is not somewhere else but is right here. Every-thing, and every moment, has Depth – more depth than we usually allow ourselves to contemplate, let alone comprehend. This book, this paper, this ink, the chair, the floor – each has a history and connections that go back, all the way back to Origins. This moment you experience now, in its particular configuration, place, people present, subtle feelings, thoughts, and propensity towards certain directions or outcomes, has a depth – many histories and choices that go back … ultimately all the way back to the beginning. Great Origin is present at every point of space and time – right here. In ceremony we are plugging our awareness into something of that. In this holy context then – in this mindframe of knowing connection, everything one does is a participation in the creation of the Cosmos: for the tribal indigenous woman, perhaps the weaving of a basket; for another, perhaps preparing a meal; for you, perhaps getting on the train to go to a workplace. It is possible to regain this sense, to come to feel that the way one breathes makes a difference – that with it, you co-create the present and the future, and you may even be a blessing on the past. In every moment we receive the co-creation, the work, of innumerable beings, of innumerable moments, and innumerable interactions of the elements, in everything we touch … and so are we touched by them. The local is our touchstone to the Cosmos – it is not separate. Ceremony may be a way into this awareness, into strengthening it. Ceremony is actually ‘doing,’ not just theorizing. We can talk about our personal and cultural disconnection endlessly, but we need to actually change our minds. Ceremony can be an enabling practice – a catalyst/practice for personal and cultural change. It is not just talking about eating the pear, it is eating the pear; it is not just talking about sitting on the cushion (meditating), it is sittingon the cushion. It is a cultural practice wherein we tell a story/stories about what we believe to be so most deeply, about who and what we are. Ceremony can be a place for practicing a new language, a new way of speaking, or spelling – a place for practicing “matristic storytelling”[i] if you like: that is, for telling stories of the Mother, of Earth and Cosmos as if She were alive and sentient. We can “play like we know it,” so that we may come to know it.[ii] Ceremony then is a form of social action. I have found it useful to describe ceremony using and extending words used by Ken Wilber to describe a “transpersonal practice,” which is needed for real change: he said it was a practice that discloses “a deeper self (I or Buddha) in a deeper community (We or Sangha) expressing a deeper truth (It or Dharma).”[iii] My extension of that is: ceremony may disclose a deeper beautiful self (the I/Virgin/Urge to Be/Buddha), in a deeper relational community (the We/Mother/Place of Being/Sangha), expressing a deeper transformative truth (the It/Old One/Space to Be/Dharma). This is the “unitive body,” the “microcosmos” that Charlene Spretnak refers to in States of Grace.[iv] Since ceremony is an opportunity to give voice to deeper places in ourselves, forms of communication are used that the dreamer, the emotional, the body, can comprehend, such as music, drama, simulation, dance, chanting, singing.[v] These forms enable the entering of a level of consciousness that is there all the time, but that is not usually expressed or acknowledged. We enter a realm that is ‘out of time,’ which is commonly said to be not the “real” world, but it is more organic/indigenous to all being and at least as real as the tick-tock world. It is a place “between the worlds,” wherein we may put our hands on the very core of our lives, touch whatever it is that we feel our existence is about, and thus touch the possibility of re-creating and renewing ourselves. NOTES: [i] A term used by Gloria Feman Orenstein in The Reflowering of the Goddess (New York: Pergamon Press, 1990), 147. [ii] As my doctoral thesis supervisor Dr. Susan Murphy once described it to me in conversation. [iii] Ken Wilber, A Brief History of Everything (Massachusetts: Shambhala, 1996), 306-307. [iv] 145. [v] As Starhawk notes, The Spiral Dance, 45. REFERENCES: Livingstone, Glenys. A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. Girl God Books: Bergen, Norway, 2023. Orenstein, Gloria Feman. The Reflowering of the Goddess. New York: Pergamon Press, 1990. Starhawk. The Spiral Dance: A Rebirth of the Ancient Religion of the Great Goddess. New York: Harper and Row, 1999. Wilber, Ken. A Brief History of Everything. Massachusetts: Shambhala, 1996.
Happy New Year, Year 2/5916 Magoma Era! by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

“The Bell of King Seongdeok, known as the Emille Bell, a massive bronze bell at 19 tons is the largest in Korea.” Wikimedia Commons. Cast in 771, the bell reenacts the music of whales to remind people of the Female Beginning, the self-creative power innate all beings. Today is Day 2 of the New Year in the reconstructed Magoist Calendar characterized by 13 months per year and 28 days per month. We are heading toward the Solstice that falls on Dec. 21/22 (Day 5 of the first month in the Magoist Calendar), which happens to be the day of the first full moon of Year 2. Below is the details about the Magoist Calendar. https://www.magoacademy.org/2018/03/27/magoist-calendar-13-month-28-day-year-1-5915-me-2018-gregorian-year/ The Gregorian year 2018 marks a watershed in that we began to implement the Magoist Calendar. The Magoma Era is based on the onset of the nine-state confederacy of Danguk (State of Dan, the Birth Tree) traditinally dated 3898 BCE-2333 BCE. We just passed Year 1 or 5915 Magoma Era (the Gregorian 2018). For Year 1, we had the New Year Day on December 18 of 2017, the first new moon day before the December Solstice. That makes December 18 of 2017 our lunation 1, the first lunar year that the reconstructed Magoist Calendar determines its first day of the Year 1! Although relatively short in history, the Mago Work began to celebrate the Nine Day Mago Celebration on the day of December Solstice annually since 2015. With the reconstructed Magoist Calendar, we placed it in its due timeframe, the Ninth Month and the Ninth Day, which fell on August 8, 2018 (US PST) and celebrated it for the first time according to the Magoist Calendar. Apparently, this had to be a mid-Summer event. This left us with another seasonal event, the New Year/Solstice Celebration. For Year 2, we hold the 3 Day New Year/Solstice Celebration on December 20, 21, and 22 (December 22 to be the Solstice Dat in PST) and the Virtual Midnight Vigil as a precussor to the New Year Day. http://www.magoacademy.org/2018/07/17/2018-5915-magoma-era-year-1-nine-day-mago-celebration/ https://www.magoacademy.org/home-2/new-year-solstice-celebrations/ We just greeted the Year 2 by holding the event called Virtual Midnight Vigil during which we sounded the Korean temple bell, in particular the Emile Bell or the Divine Bell of King Seongdeok the Great, to the world. A few from around the globe (Germany, Korea, Italy and the US) participated in it or hosted their own local vigils. The Korean temple bell is the key symbol for the Magoist Calendar as well as the Magoist Cosmogony. It is not a coincidence that it is struck on the midnight of the New Year’s Eve. It is Korean tradition that even modern Koreans gather at the bell tower in Seoul to hear the sound of the bell at midnight. And these bells are gigantic weighing 19 tons in the case of the Emile Bell. That this convention has an ancient Magoist root remains esoteric. For not only they strike the bell 28 times in the evening indicating the 28 lunar stations that the Moon stops by in the sky throughout the year (please read below what the 28 day lunar journey means and how it is represented by women). But also the Korean temple bell is no mere acoustic device to play the beautiful sound only. It is designed to reenact the Magoist Cosmogony. https://www.magoacademy.org/2018/12/14/virtual-midnight-vigil-dec-17-2018-to-new-year-year-2-5916-magoma-era/ That said, that is not what’s all about the Korean Magoist convention of welcoming the New Year by sounding the temple bell, however. That the bell sound is a mimicry of the music of whales has been in the hand of wisdom seekers! Ancient Korean bells testify that whales are with us in the journey of the Moon and her terrestrial dependents headed by women. You may like to hear the sound of the Magoist Korean whale bell included in the Participation Manual for Virtual Midnight Vigil below. Happy New Year to all terrestrial beings in WE/HERE/NOW! https://www.magoacademy.org/2018/12/16/participation-manual-for-virtual-midnight-vigil-year-2/
(Art & Poem) Candelmas/Imbolc by Sudie Rakusin & Annie Finch

IMBOLC DANCE From the east she has gathered like wishes. She has woven a night into dawn. We are quickening ivy. We grow where her warmth melts out over the ice. Now spiral south bends into flame to push the morning over doors. The light swings wide, green with the pulse of seasons, and we let her in We are quickening ivy. We grow The light swings wide, green with the pulse till the west is rocked by darkness pulled from where the fire rises. Shortened time’s reflecting water rakes her through the thickened cold. Hands cover north smooth with emptiness, stinging the mill of night’s hours. Wait with me. See, she comes circling over the listening snow to us. Shortened time’s reflecting water Wait with me. See, she comes circling From Calendars (Tupelo Press, 2003) Art is included in Celebrating Seasons of the Goddess (Mago Books, 2017). (Meet Mago Contributor) Sudie Rakusin (Meet Mago Contributor) Annie Finch

(Essay 2) Returning Home with Mago, the Great Goddess, from East Asia by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

[Author’s Note: This essay was first published in Trivia, Voices of Feminism, Issue 6, September 2007. Also to be included in the forthcoming anthology She Rises: Why Goddess Feminism, Activism, and Spirituality?] An Introduction to Magoism Mago is the Great Goddess of East Asia. Nonetheless, she remains barely known to the world. Her equals, Xiwangmu (the Supreme Goddess of Daoism) and Amaterasu (the Sun Goddess of the Japanese imperial family), are said to comprise the pantheon of East Asian cosmic goddesses. Considering that these goddesses are often aligned with the ancient culture of China or Japan, one notices that the pantheon of East Asian Great Goddesses thus omits both Mago and “Korean culture.”
(Photo Essay 5) ‘Gaeyang Halmi, the Sea Goddess of Korea’ by Helen Hwang

Part 5: Gaeyang Halmi, How Does She Relate with Mago? The field research concerning Gaeyang Halmi was undertaken with the thought that Gaeyang Halmi is related to Mago in some way. Such assumption is on the grounds that the folktales of Gaeyang Halmi and Mago Halmi substantively share the same motifs. In fact, I had thought Gaeyang Halmi is another name of Mago Halmi. A scrutiny has proven that the picture of their correlation is far more complex than I first envisaged, exposing the hidden nexuses of Old Magoism. This last part aims at disentangling the grips. It is indispensable for me to invite my readers to the task of reconstructing ancient East Asian mytho-history. Gaeyang Halmi embodies a partial manifestation of Mago as the Sea Goddess. Nonetheless, such a statement lacks complex subtexts that this topic involves. The Gurang (Nine Maidens) mytheme of Gaeyang Halmi sheds light on the mytho-history of Old Magoism (read Magoism in pre- and proto-Chinese times characterized by shaman rulers). To be specific, Gaeyang Halmi in the gurang pantheon suggests a yet-to-be-known shaman ruler, “Ungnyeo” (Bear/Sovereign Woman), founder of the confederacy of the nine states, which I call Danguk (ca. 3898 BCE-2333 BCE). The gurang represented by Gaeyang Halmi is no small clue to the pervasive yet misunderstood civilization of Ungnyeo. “Ungnyeo” is eponymous of the female symbolism of nine, such as the nine-tailed fox in East Asia and the nine muses and the nine forms of Durga beyond East Asia mentioned in Part IV. In short, Gaeyang Halmi oscillating between “Mago” and “Ungnyeo” in Her identity testifies to the suppressed history of Old Magoism. Methodically, I have two types of mythological texts to decipher the overtones of Gaeyang Halmi’s mytheme: folklore (oral narratives) and the written myth. Goddess mythemes, malleable yet immortal, constitute the grammar blocks of the gynocentric language that often appears “awkward” if not “ridiculous” to moderns. They need to be analyzed and interpreted. Feminist techniques are apt to sort out the sediments and decipher the diastrophic disturbances caused by patriarchal advances in the course of time. Some parallels between Gaeyang Halmi and Mago Halmi folk stories are overt. Their stories are so similar that they appear to be an identical goddess: A: The motif that Gaeyang Halmi walks on the sea, often described as wearing namak-sin (wooden shoes) or only beoseon (Korean traditional socks), is also commonly told in Mago stories especially from Jeju Island[i] and other coastal regions. B: That Gaeyang Halmi walks around in the sea to measure its depth is also told in the stories of Mago from other coastal regions. C: The mytheme that Gaeyang Halmi had eight daughters recurs in the stories of Mago, especially from the region of Mt. Jiri. Mago is said to have had eight daughters and sent them to eight provinces. Given the above, it is evident that Gaeyang Halmi lore resembles that of Mago. Were the populace confused about these two goddesses? I hold that the confusion was not a mistake but a way to convey that Gaeyang Halmi is related to Magoism rather than Mago Herself. In folklore, “why” and “how”are the questions to be interpreted, not to be read.
(Bell Essay 4) The Ancient Korean Bell and Magoism by Helen Hwang

Part IV Asking the Dangerous Question: How Old is the Symbol of Nine Nipples? An inquiry about the origin of an ancient female symbolism is subversive in nature. It shakes the ground of patriarchal premises come to be believed rather than understood. The question here is the provenance of the nine nipples sculpted on ancient Korean bells. A focus on the female principle that nine nipples represent hurls the inquirer into uncharted territory. Note that official [read Sinocentric] historiography of East Asia leaves no means to navigate through the beginning of gynocentric civilizations. Where there is no written history, archaeologies and mythologies are rendered anomalous if not obsolete. Thus, tracking the provenance of nine nipples is made to face a quandary, without the mytho-history of Old Magoism. The relief of nine nipples on the ancient Korean bell has its predecessors. From Silla, a wind chime called pungtak from Gameun-sa (Temple of Gameun) appears to be an immediate model. Much smaller in size (27.8 cm), pungtak is to be hung on the eaves of a pagoda or a Buddhist temple building. Given that the Gameun-sa was completed in 682 CE, the nine nipples of pungtak may well be considered as the precursor of the Sangwon-sa bell (cast 725 CE). Unfortunately, however, we are unequipped to trace the pre-Silla Korean examples of nine nipples under the standard view of Sinocentric ancient Korean history. This will need another space to discuss. That said, how old is the symbol of nine nipples? Extant ancient bronze bells with nine nipples suggest that it dates back to as early as the introduction of bronze metallurgy in East Asia. On the other hand, however, the existence of nine nipples on ancient pottery bells throws a new light on another scenario that they may predate the Bronze Age. That the use of clay preceded the use of metal is incontestable. Interestingly, a good number of ancient bronze bells with nine nipples are from the Shang dynasty (ca. 1600 BCE-ca. 1046 BCE) and the Western Zhou dynasty (1046 BCE-771 BCE) of China. Seong Nakju, in his article tracing the origin of ancient Korean bells, states that bells with the nine protruded knobs emerged for the first time between the late Shang and the early Zhou period (see Seong Nakju below in Sources). When something of the female principle, ultimately like the provenance of Mago, is dated to the Shang dynasty [Shang dynasty to be the earliest historical polity of China], it suggests that it was there before the beginning of Chinese history. On these ancient Chinese bells, the nine knobs are placed in three rows of three in its four corners just like yudu (nipples) of the Korean bell. Nonetheless, there is, among others, a distinction to be mentioned here. The nine knobs of Zhou bells are called “mae” (枚, classifier for small things, mei in Chinese) not “yudu.” The female connotation is absent in ancient Chinese bells. This gender shift or female castration to be precise, however casual it may seem, is no small factor. It has allowed a chasm in the forthcoming history of Chinese bells. Bells were no mere object for the ancients. They were the channel of epiphany, sacred in short. They represented the divine power derived from Old Magoism during which female shamans ruled. The patriarchal enthronement that took seizure in the course of history, however, marked a discontinuity and changed the nature of the bell’s symbolism to be only nominal, lacking reality. The bell as the symbol of the female principle was no longer effective under patriarchal rules. Why? It was deprived of the reality of the Goddess with which it could reverberate. Thus, it lost its ultimate purpose, to create music, in that the patriarchal ruling principle itself was not “musical,” but dissonant with the rest of the world. One who breaks the harmony can’t own the music! Bells are rendered as a thing that points to the meaning of the past. This is how bells during the era of patriarchal rules came to be objectified as a royal belonging, as seen in the Qing bell of a later time. Ancient sages or even kings and queens of East Asia may have noticed what had gone wrong with the bell and agonized to restore it, the effort for which they were praised as the great thinker or sage ruler. The imposing air of authority had to be made visual precisely because the bell could no longer do the magic, engendering the divine power. Thus, highly embellished designs and classifications of various bells were made to cover up the void. Later on, the magnitude of the bell was employed to convey (pseudo-)power, deranged from the female principle. Nonetheless, the nine nipples seemingly survived in many bells of the Zhou dynasty. I present here some specific bells such as yongzhong (a bell with a cylindrical handle on top), niuzhong (a bell with a semi-circular knob on top), and yangjiaozhong (a bell shaped like ram’s horns) to highlight the various styles of mae. After all, pyeonjong (bianzhong in Chinese, metal chime bells) is a variation of pyeongyeong (bianqing in Chinese), the stone chime bells (see Part I). This suggests that the making of ancient bells needs to be seen in a continuum rather than as a new invention in the Bronze era. However, we do not have pyeongyeongs with nine nipples. Stone chimes do not seem to have nine nipples. If ancient East Asians had not carved the nine nipples on a stone bell, then they did it on clay. Pottery bells with nine nipples are found to have co-existed with bronze bells. The level of sophistication and precision in artistry is there as well, as shown in the images. It may be, as experts would explain, that ceramic bells were created to substitute for the costly bronze bells during the Zhou dynasty. However, that should not be always the case. Prior to the Bronze Age, humans invented terracotta technology and brought it to its zenith from which, in fact, metallurgical techniques are likely to have derived. In short, ceramic bells of the Zhou dynasty suggest that the origin of nine nipples predates the …