May 11, 2015October 2, 2019 RTM Editors2 Comments

(Essay) 2014 Mago Pilgrimage by Rosemary Mattingley

The Mago Pilgrimage in Korea in 2014 was a journey of connection and reconnection for me at different levels. Mago is the primordial goddess of east Asia. Her energy clearly Read More …

(Essay 1) Book of Veles: Storied Instructions by Danica Borkovich Anderson

The Blood and Honey Icons card deck The Book of Veles, describing the origins of the Slavic, Baltic, Serbian, and Polish tribes is hotly debated, with many in academic fields refuting its authenticity. Written on planks of wood, the Book of Veles’ sacred data is a Slavic phenomenon that anchors an integrated transcendence of its peoples. Beneath all of the arguments against the Book of Veles’ existence is a powerful Slavic technology triggering radical shifts of consciousness and healing practices that recover a coherence of harmony. I know the mass forced march from South Slavic homes of three million people during the Balkan War is not a migration. Nor would a forced march be chronicled in the Book of Veles. The forced march of the South Slavs is a formidable shadow over their way of life for integrated transcendence concerning their oral tradition literature practices. Given the South Slavs’ relations with the Moist Mother Earth, the Book of Veles is a geocentric map of land and seascapes vital to the South Slavs since it represents their migration to a land of Blood and Honey. The blood is not the spilt blood of wars or genocide but the rivers, the waters that feed the land into honey: abundance. Like the Book of Veles, the land of blood and honey is an open-ended evolution borne from the ashes. Contrary to what we might expect, increasing the ties to their Slavic Moist Mother Earth is shown through the milk from the Ahmica-Vitez grandmother’s cows and the eggs from her chickens that feed the remaining Ahmica-Vitez war crimes survivors’ family members. And the increased communion with their cows and planting in the fields had the Ahmica-Vitez grandmother out of the house on the early morning of April 15, 1993, when the slaughter of her family was perpetrated. According to the Ahmica-Vitez women war crimes survivors, their land, grassy meadows, and crops attracted genocide, not the god of Veles. Interestingly, the Slavic and Baltic customs are preserved in the Book of Veles, particularly the story of the Russian father Bogumir, and mother, Slavuni, who owned many livestock and whose children married across the tribes. Bogumir and Slavuni’ s children represent the Slavic, Baltic, and Polish tribes as one family, a harmony with replenishing healing balance achieved. Despite the Goths’ and Huns’ terrible warfare at that time, the outcome produced people protecting and preserving the wisdom of Moist Mother Earth. Traces of guardianship and preservation are found in the still-practiced rituals among the Slavs. One of many Slavic female cultural practices is feeding snakes milk so the gardens flourish and protecting the domovi (home). For Baltic peoples, Velines, a Lithuanian equinox (around April), is full of feast celebrations for the dead, portraying the ancient links to the Dionysus and Bacchus rituals. Fascinatingly, the Spring equinox would have the Bird migrations coinciding with the feast in reverence to the Bird and Snake Goddess. But, for the Ahmica-Vitez women war crimes survivors, April and the spring equinox now herald mass murder. What is chilling is how the archaeomythology has the god Veles attracted to the open meadows, the same type of landscape in the village of Ahmica-Vitez. The Ahmica-Vitez war crimes survivors were bitter and hostile toward the Yugoslav War Crimes Tribunal for a few years after 2001. However, what was strangely absent was hatred, despite how deeply the Ahmica-Vitez mothers and grandmothers distrusted the criminal court and all humanitarian institutions and justice systems. The tribunal adjudicated and, upon the testimony, released the Croat war crimes criminals. If we look at the word origin of testimony comes from the Latin ‘testis’ and testament, where grabbing onto your testicles meant the truth. The migration toward justice was rendered invisible after a Muslim not from the Ahmica-Vitez village or around at the time of the slaughter of one hundred and fifty Muslims on April 15, 1993, testified that the three Croatian war criminals were not the ones who committed the massacre. His testimony made a mockery of the proceedings that were designed to bring justice and only set the cause back further, adding new reasons to hate and distrust. I did not know how to express the reality that our sons, fathers, brothers, uncles, and grandfathers, along with women, have allowed the massacres generation after generation. I did not speak of this to the Ahmica-Vitez women war crimes survivors. Fatima, an elder in Novi Travnik’s Kolo Sumejja, remarked after the release of the three Croatian war crimes criminals shortly after September 11, 2001, “Now they have the Muslims killing themselves; no one else did it.” Her anger was clear, as was her acceptance of life in the aftermath of the war with no expectation of justice. Fatima channeled anger into healing and harmony, not hatred. Nemana and her neighbor arrived early in the summer of 2005 to announce their desire to tell the story of a profound woman who once lived in Ahmica-Vitez. During the war, she fled from her home, where she was known to have great passion and love for her rich array of flowers and thriving vegetable patch. After the war, she trudged home back to Ahmica-Vitez. The small community had nothing, but this woman shared all she had. It became obvious that cancer had eaten through her body, but she was joyous to be home and living on the land again. She was the leading force in the Ahmica-Vitez war crimes survivorship toward thriving without hate. I was told that she found joy where most found war crimes, hardship, and lack. So infectious was her loving life and Ahmica-Vitez that Nemana and her neighbor remembered her vividly enough to replace their horrific memories of the faces of the dead and dying with this woman’s smiling face. Taking the notepad from my lap while I sat in Nemana’s kitchen, I agreed with the woman who told me that it was time to write this woman’s story to share with others who could know her, at least through …
(Prose) Candlelight, Fairylight, Firelight by Lucy H. Pearce

I know the place where the fairies sleep. Where bonfire sparks make the stars and witches walk. I know the place where music lives and angels wait. I know, because I saw them with my own eyes as a child. Colours shimmered, sounds too, and for hour upon hour the laws of nature were richer, deeper and mythical in their proportions. A world of fire and music and story, where the rules of magic reigned. These were not things that I tried to believe, but things I had seen, felt and known in my bones, that made me shiver up my spine, lit up from the inside by magic. Christmas seemed to inhabit its own realm of magic – where everything was brighter, warmer, fuller, more delicious and abundant than your dreams. Where life glimmered and shimmered by candlelight, fairylight, firelight. When everyone I loved would be gathered in a room together, talking and laughing. Where grown-ups had time to play games in the middle of the afternoon by the fire. A time when music was all around, and piles of presents in shiny paper whispered promise. When every street sparkled with a thousand coloured lights, and driving home in the darkness, living rooms glowed with warmth and love and festooned trees. And most magical of all, the portal of wonder, Christmas Eve, when I hung up a stocking, went to bed full of happy butterflies and came downstairs in the cold and dark, to be greeted by a bulging, odd-shaped container of delight, where I would dip my hand in to its Tardis-like proportions, fishing out pencils and books, magic tricks and bubble bath, golden chocolate coins and glowing clementines. These weren’t times when I tried to believe. They were real visits to other worlds within the embrace of this one. At this time of year especially I long to make magic real for my children. Or rather, to hold the space for magic to emerge for them. In truth I don’t know what lights the magic in their souls, what, in their modern and maybe jaded eyes holds the spark of a miracle any more, which memories have already fused themselves to their cortexes, to live there till they are grandparents. I do not know, but I make it my job, as much as I can, to expose them to magic and miracles – freshly falling snow by moonlight, carols by candlelight, wishing eggs in the woods which the fairies take away, gingerbread houses, bonfires and sparklers in the dark, tooth fairies and Santa Claus. I kept this magic into adulthood. It truly only fell away this last couple of years, with tiredness, illness, too much work, too much pressure to do it right, not enough money or time, striving, striving to get it right, keep everyone happy, remembering all the details. My soul was stricken, Christmas had lost its glow. So this year, I am re-lighting the magic of midwinter – it is not about quantity, but about the feeling of abundance. Music singing us into feeling and tasting love on our tongues. And light – candle light, fairy light, fire light, the sparkle of magic and hope in the midwinter dark and cold. The feeling of togetherness, of joy. Weaving magical memories, suspending the laws of mundanity and bringing magic to life. Candlelight, fairylight, firelight… magic! (Included in Celebrating Seasons of the Goddess.) Meet Mago Contributor Lucy H. Pearce
(Poem & Photography) The Doorway by Sara Wright

Photography by Sara Wright When I look into his face I wonder what he is thinking as he loses himself in sweet mountain mist. He’s alone now. His fear of the unknown keeps him vigilant ears erect, mouth tasting air standing on two legs to see beyond summer’s diaphanous veil. No wonder he climbs trees. He’s not yet two. Did she warn him about the others before she left? Two legged threats armed with hatred, the need to destroy life men addicted to power, who will gladly spew fire through his gut, strike out an eye, maim a paw so he cannot flee? He slaps at chipmunks in repose, scents fragrant white lilacs clasps a metal can to his belly, kicks it down the hill in play. He bounds towards the brook for a bath, circles back for protection takes a nap in a thicket of young pines. He tolerates me if not as friend at least as one who wishes him no harm. He peers around rough bark like a child playing hide and seek. He’s curious to identify to whom I am speaking. He listens intently when I caution him like an anxious mother. Do not trust. Do not trust them. I am the exception to the rule. Most want him dead Skinned and hung – a furry black skeleton – a shroud on the wall, his jaws forever frozen in an impossible roar. Always present, Death stands at his door. Working Notes: Black bears are much maligned and when one befriends one it is hard to understand why these animals are so feared. They evolved with trees as a prey animal and remain this way today. In truth they are immensely curious and shy animals and the hardest part of trying to study them in the wild is finding one who will tolerate my presence. Early in the spring the young – yearlings – are tolerant of me, but by this time of year they have had enough terrifying experiences with the men around here to turn them into “night bears”. They no longer trust me. In between there are moments of grace. TB loves to smell lilac blossoms, and gets irritable when brazen chipmunks or mice wish to share his food. He loves rubber balls but punctures them immediately. He plays with sticks and pulls tree branches up on his belly, plays hide and seek with me. Although the transition from day to night bears signifies the negative experiences these animals have had with others – around here – men who use semi-automatic blasts to terrify and wound them illegally – and hunting season draws near, I have at least had moments that we shared in peace, and for that I must be grateful. (Meet Mago Contributor) Sara Wright.
(Essay) The Gift Economy by Genevieve Vaughan

Two basic economic paradigms coexist in the world today. They are logically contradictory, but also complementary. One is visible, the other invisible; one highly valued, the other undervalued. One is connected with men; the other with women. What we need to do is validate the one connected with women, causing a basic shift in the values by which we direct our lives and policies. I first approached the idea of giving as a basic economic and life principle when I was doing work on language and communication. Later, as a feminist, I realized that in my free homemaking and child-rearing work, I was doing gift labor-as were women worldwide. The present economic system, which is made to seem natural and too widespread to change, is based upon a simple operation in which individuals participate at many different levels and at many different times. This operation is exchange, which can be described as giving in order to receive. The motivation is self-oriented since what is given returns under a different form to the giver to satisfy her or his need. The satisfaction of the need of the other person is a means to thc satisfaction of one’s own need. Exchange requires identification of the things exchanged, as well as their measurement and an assertion of their equivalence to the satisfaction of the exchangers that neither is giving more than she or he is receiving. It therefore requires visibility, attracting attention even though it is done so often that the visibility is commonplace. Money enters the exchange, taking the place of products reflecting their quantitative evaluation. This seemingly simple human interaction of exchange, since it is done so often, becomes a sort of archetype or magnet for other human interactions, making itself-and whatever looks like it-seem normal, while anything else is crazy. For example, we talk about exchanges of love, conversations, glances, favors, ideas. There is also a different type of similarity of exchange to linguistic definition. The definition mediates whether or not a concept belongs to a certain category, just as monetarization of activity mediates its belonging to the category of work or not. The very visibility of exchange is self-confirming, while other kinds of interaction are rendered invisible or inferior by contrast or negative description. What is invisible seems to be valueless, while what is visible is identified with exchange, which is concerned with a certain kind of quantitative value. Besides, since there is an equivalence asserted between what we give and what we receive, it seems that whoever has a lot has produced a lot or given a lot, and is, therefore, some – how more than whoever has less. Exchange puts the ego first and allows it to grow and develop in ways that emphasize me-first competitive and hierarchical behavior patterns. This ego is not an intrinsic part of the human being, but is a social product coming from the kinds of human interaction it is involved in. The alternative paradigm, which is hidden – or at least misidentified – is nurturing and generally other-oriented. It continues to exist because it has a basis in the nature of infants; they are dependent and incapable of giving back to the giver. If their needs are not satisfied unilaterally by the giver, they will suffer and die. Society has allocated the caretaking role to women since we bear the children and have the milk to nourish them. Since a large percentage of women nurture babies, we are directed toward having an experience outside exchange. This requires orientation toward interest in the other. The rewards and punishments involved have to do with the well-being of the other. Our satisfaction comes from her or his growth or happiness, not just from our own. In the best case, this does not require the impoverishment or depletion of ourselves either. Where there is enough, we can abundantly nurture others. The problem is that scarcity is usually thc case, artificially created in order to maintain control, so that other-orientation becomes difficult and self-depleting. In fact, exchange requires scarcity because, if needs are abundantly satisfied, no one is constrained to give up anything in order to receive what they need. It is said that the earth produces enough at the present time to feed everyone abundantly. However, this cannot be done on the basis of the exchange paradigm. Nor can the exchange paradigm or the kind of dominant ego it fosters continue in a situation of abundance and free giving. That is why scarcity has been created on a worldwide scale by armaments spending and other wastes of resources: $17 billion would feed everyone on earth for a year and we spend it every week on the military, thus creating the scarcity necessary for the exchange paradigm to survive and continue to validate itself. If we identify the gift paradigm with women’s way, we see that it is already widespread, since women arc the majority of the population. Many men practice it to some extent also. Noncapitalistic economies such as native economies, often have major gift-giving practices and various important kinds of women’s leadership. I believe, for example, that many of the conflicts between women and men that seem like personal differences are really differences in the paradigm we are using as the basis for our behavior. Women criticize men’s big egos and men criticize women as being unrealistic, soft touch. bleeding hearts. Each tries to convince the other to follow his or her values. Recently, many women have begun to follow the exchange paradigm, which has the immediate advantage of liberating them from grim economic servitude – and the psychological advantage that monetarization defines their activity as valuable. But the servitude itself is caused by the exchange paradigm. As people change from one paradigm to the other, there is probably some holdover of the previous paradigm, so that women who take on exchange often remain nurturing while men who take on giving remain more ego-oriented. I see this in the case of religions, in …
Meet Mago Contributor, Bridget Robertson

Bridget Robertson is a Goddessian who is a feminist activist for women, girls, the environment and animals. She is a NLP (Neuro-Linguistic Programming) practitioner who has been practicing shamanism since the late seventies, meeting the Goddess early on during a journey. She stands firmly on the ground of direct experience. In the past she lead moon lodges and women’s circles to honor the cycles and rhythms in women and the Earth. Now she is a storyteller of her direct experiences, hoping that they touch others to join in and celebrate all the faces of the Goddess. Loves sisterhood and believes it to be a key element to bring the Goddess fully back into the world. In her spare time she is a bibliophile, who loves music and laughter to fill her home. ◊ We, the co-editors, contributors, and advisers, have started the Mago Web (Cross-cultural Goddess Web) to rekindle old Gynocentric Unity in our time. Now YOU can help us raise this torch high to the Primordial Mountain Home (Our Mother Earth Herself) wherein everyone is embraced in WE. There are many ways to support Return to Mago. You may donate to us. No amount is too small for us. For your time and skill, please email Helen Hwang (magoism@gmail.com). Please take an action today and we need that! Thank YOU in Goddesshood of all beings! (Click Donate button below. You can donate by credit card or bank account without registering PayPal. Find “Don’t have a PayPal account?” above the credit card icons.)
(Goddess Writing 3) Notes by Kaalii Cargill

Excerpt from my speculative/historical novel DAUGHTERS OF TIME https://www.amazon.com/Daughters-Time-Kaalii-Cargill/dp/1482616971 Michelangelo, Sistine Chapel. “Let me tell you a story,” said Old Lil, sitting on the wide rim of the fountain pool. “At the start of time, at the very beginning of time, before the world had filled with people, there lived a man and a woman. Do you know who they were?” Lili shrugged. “Adam and Eve?” “Half right,” said Old Lil. “And half wrong.” The silence deepened. Birds twittered in the vines, and the distant traffic hummed. Old Lil opened her eyes and looked intently at them. “Before Adam lived with Eve in the garden between the rivers, there was another woman. Long has she has been forgotten. This is her story.” Lili’s face was flushed, her eyes shining. “Most people think Eve was the first woman,” she said. “But you must be speaking of Lilith. She is named in the old stories.” Old Lil smiled. “What comes first, the bird or the egg? The time of sun or the time of rain?” Paula shivered; someone walking on her grave. Old Lil went on with her story. “There is no beginning and no end. So it is, and so it has always been. The green shoot is nourished by all that has gone before. It grows and, when the season is done, it returns to the earth.” The words were familiar. Were they from the Bible? Paula couldn’t place them. “The very first woman – Lilith as you call her – was strong and free,” said Old Lil. “She knew the true names of every living thing. When the first man saw her, he wanted to be with her like the lion was with the lioness, like the horned gazelle was with the doe. “But the fierce one knew that men and women could come together in a different way. She tried to show him, but the man turned his back and refused her wisdom. One night, as frogs called from the rivers and crickets sang from the earth, the man tried to force the woman to do what he wanted. She rose up and uttered words of power, and the World changed.” Bees hovered around the flowers on the vines, making a sound like a summer breeze in dry grass. Old Lil nodded her head. “Where the woman had stood was a Serpent, scales shimmering in the moonlight. When Eve came, the Serpent was waiting.” “What happened?” asked Lili. “First the Serpent spoke of earth: I am the womb of life. From me you come and to me you shall return. Nothing is wasted. Do not fear.” Old Lil’s voice sounded like the hissing of snakes. “Then the Serpent spoke of air: I am the breath of life. From me come the winds of change. Nothing remains the same. Do not fear. To live you must leave the safety of the womb. To eat you must crush the wheat. Nothing remains the same.” Paula closed her eyes and leaned forward to rest her arms on her knees, her fears for Peter dissolving in the dreaminess of Old Lil’s story. “Then water,” said Old Lil. “I am the beginning of life. From me all things come forth. Nothing is forgotten. Do not fear. The primal vortex of destruction is also the central wellspring of creation. Nothing is forgotten.” “Finally, the Serpent spoke of the golden light of the Sun and the glowing flames of fire. I am the heart of life. From me comes the searing heat of desire. Nothing is unknown. Do not fear. The barley and the corn agree to live in the Sun and die in the flames to give you food. Nothing is unknown.” Old Lil smiled. “The first woman carried the life-giving power of the Earth.” “I know of her,” said Lili. “Of course you do,” said Old Lil. “Her name was almost lost, but some remember. Although you may have not heard this story before. History says she became a demon, living in the netherworld, tormenting men’s dreams. But that is not what happened.” “What really happened?” asked Paula. Old Lil smiled at her as if she had just done something clever. “She took many different forms – serpent, wise woman, harpy, priestess, prostitute – coming to women when they were ready to hear her story. Through the Ages she kept alive the original dream of the Earth. She has even been a ‘bag lady’.” “Why didn’t the Serpent speak to Adam?” asked Lili. “Because men can’t hear Serpents speak,” said Old Lil, laughing like a mad woman. (Meet Mago Contributor) Kaalii Cargill
(Equinox poem) I Thought The Morning Crowed by Phibby Venable with art by Maria Arias

I thought the morning crowed a long sad repetition from behind the hills but it later became a rooster – so much smaller than his sound I was born in the Spring A small, brown radio played on a corner shelf – my mother danced her way through breakfast
(Prose) La Llorona and the Dark Green Religion of Hope by Sara Wright

I recently returned to Maine after what can only be called a harrowing journey from the Southwest. Grateful to feel beloved earth under my feet, I walk along the pine strewn woodland paths to keep myself sane. My animals have been ill, my neighbor was hospitalized briefly, other neighbors deliberately destroyed my garden wall crushing a baby balsam, and used this property as their personal ski slope, the threat of the C/virus looms – there are no words to describe this kind of exhaustion. As a PTSD survivor all my senses are on permanent scream. The simplest task has become monumental. And I am only one of so many… Each day I attempt to feel gratitude for what is good in my life. Momentary peace is found in the Dark Green Religion of Hope that I experience walking under every balsam, lichen, wet leaf, deciduous tree, listening to chickadees, phoebes, juncos, and finches, meandering along the swollen brook – Just to see clear mountain waters rushing to the sea reminds me that Nature’s rhythms are my own, and that most of the time I am not breathing with her – unless I take these walks. Somewhere along the way over these last weeks I have lost access to my body (PTSD). Two days ago we had a spring snow and someone took a picture of me coming up from the brook – I instantly recognized the figure – not as myself but as La Llarona, Weeping Woman. In the southwest La LLarona haunts the rivers at night. What I didn’t expect was to find her here along the brook, weeping under the bowed evergreens, falling as wet spring snow. All Nature is in mourning for what humans have done to harm the Earth, and now even privileged Americans are under threat of dying from a virus that we have brought upon ourselves…. Kristin Flyntz When I received this message from co editors Lise Weil and Kristin Flyntz I felt compelled to pass it on…As I have said so often Nature is Speaking – What will it take for us to start listening? “I want to share this message from COVID 19 that came through my Dark Matter collaborator Kristin Flyntz. I hope it is not understood in any way to minimize the fear and suffering so many humans are experiencing at this time..” Lise Weil. Just stop.It is no longer a request. It is a mandate.We will help you.We will bring the supersonic, high speed merry-go-round to a haltWe will stopthe planesthe trainsthe schoolsthe mallsthe meetingsthe frenetic, furied rush of illusions and “obligations” that keep you from hearing oursingle and shared beating heart,the way we breathe together, in unison.Our obligation is to each other,As it has always been, even if, even though, you have forgotten.We will interrupt this broadcast, the endless cacophonous broadcast of divisions and distractions,to bring you this long-breaking news:We are not well.None of us; all of us are suffering.Last year, the firestorms that scorched the lungs of the earthdid not give you pause.Nor the typhoons in Africa,China, Japan.Nor the fevered climates in Japan and India.You have not been listening.It is hard to listen when you are so busy all the time, hustling to uphold the comforts and conveniences that scaffold your lives.But the foundation is giving way,buckling under the weight of your needs and desires.We will help you.We will bring the firestorms to your bodyWe will bring the fever to your bodyWe will bring the burning, searing, and flooding to your lungsthat you might hear:We are not well. Despite what you might think or feel, we are not the enemy.We are Messenger. We are Ally. We are a balancing force.We are asking you:To stop, to be still, to listen;To move beyond your individual concerns and consider the concerns of all;To be with your ignorance, to find your humility, to relinquish your thinking minds and travel deep into the mind of the heart;To look up into the sky, streaked with fewer planes, and see it, to notice its condition: clear, smoky, smoggy, rainy? How much do you need it to be healthy so that you may also be healthy?To look at a tree, and see it, to notice its condition: how does its health contribute to the health of the sky, to the air you need to be healthy?To visit a river, and see it, to notice its condition: clear, clean, murky, polluted? How much do you need it to be healthy so that you may also be healthy? How does its health contribute to the health of the tree, who contributes to the health of the sky, so that you may also be healthy?Many are afraid now. Do not demonize your fear, and also, do not let it rule you. Instead, let it speak to you—in your stillness, listen for its wisdom. What might it be telling you about what is at work, at issue, at risk, beyond the threat of personal inconvenience and illness?As the health of a tree, a river, the sky tells you about quality of your own health, what might the quality of your health tell you about the health of the rivers, the trees, the sky, and all of us who share this planet with you? Stop. Just stop.Be still.Listen.Ask us what we might teach you about illness and healing, about what might be required so that all may be well.We will help you, if you listen. www.darkmatterwomenwitnessing.com Ll Llorona weeps for us all. (Meet Mago Contributor) Sara Wright.
(Art & Prose) She Who Runs With the Herds by Jude Lally

My dolls are born on the thresholds, one foot in this world and a foot in the otherworld. As I create a doll and build up the layers of wool and fabric I am also digging down to her bones, hearing her stories of her people and the landscape. The inspiration for this doll was born in a time of ice, a time when great herds of reindeer were able to cross from mainland Europe across to Britain. She was there with her people guiding them as they tracked the reindeer. The female reindeer, like the male, grows antlers. She is the leader of the herd, following the ancestral deer paths over the land that her mother led the herd on and her mother before that – stretching back thousands of years.There is an ancient connection between women who led her people and these female reindeer – one which has been honored and respected. The wise women of these clans were the women who went into trance to contact this Great Mother of the herds to ask for a sign of where to find the herds and in ritual gave thanks for using them for food, shelter, for sacred objects and clothing. Even today many women see the wisdom in this great Mother of the Herds, they search out her knowledge, dream of their foremother’s rituals and ceremonies. Visiting the Cairngorm Reindeer herd, Scotland Our spiritual journeys, too, take us through bogs of unconsciousness. We too must pass through raging rivers of grief, tread carefully over areas of icy despair, cross craggy ravines that reflect our terror of the unknown, and face feared enemies that threaten to devour us, like hungry wolf packs. As the earthly reindeer struggles to dig up grass and lichen for food to fuel her journey, so we must strive to find what nutures our spirit’. Linda Schierse Leonard. Creation’s Heartbeat. Following the Reindeer Spirit. It is not hard today to lose hope, to be overwhelmed by all that is unfolding and sink into despair and apathy. Wherever you are in the world we can be inspired by the Wise Woman who led her people and when they lost the herd it was she, She Who Runs WIth the Herd that moved into the threshold, shapeshifted into deer and ran through the snowfields of the otherworld to find the herd. Once she found them she ran with the reindeer, body running with body, heels clicking in the noise they make which allows them to hear where each reindeer is. She runs with them through valley, through forest recognizing both the reindeer and the terrain so she can return to her people and know which path to take. Transforming hopelessness into faith requires digging into the depths of the soul, just as the reindeer must dig deep in the snow for lichenLinda Schierse Leonard. Creation’s Heartbeat. Following the Reindeer Spirit. Yet running with the herd also allows you to dig deep for what is required to nourish your soul. To find that much-needed magic, the fodder that feeds the soul for this dark journey offers a rebirth of the soul. Click on the file below to take this journey to run with the herd. Perhaps take some time before you make the journey – consider your intention for your journey. Take some time to journey alone and keep a journal and pen by your side to record any insights or inspirations. (Meet Mago Contributor) Jude Lally https://soundcloud.com/sisterhood-of-the-antlers/she-who-runs-with-the-herds

(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 Mother Teresa 3) A Role Model for Women? by Mago Circle Members

Part III: The Debate, What Went Right/Wrong with Mother Teresa? [Editorial Note: The following is an edited version of the discussion that took place spontaneously on Mago Circle from March 1, 2013 for about two weeks. It was an extensive, heated, yet reflective discussion, now broken into four parts to fit the format of the blog. We thank each and all of the participants for your openness, generosity, and courage to stand up for what you believe and think! Some are marked as anonymous. As someone stated, something may have been “written in the heat of the moment” and some might like to change it at a later time. So we inform our readers that nothing is written in stone. As a matter of fact, the discussion is ongoing, now with Magoism Blog readers. Please comment and respond as you wish.] [C]: Unfortunately, Mother Theresa is not understood here in some of these comments: To be in any way critical of Mother Theresa using what was the state of the world in her time & the poor & dying as tools of compassion, even more so when left to die visibly barely cared for, as a teaching method must not be looked at as unfeeling on her part as it was her greatest sorrow to use them so horribly as means to an end, but they were what she had at hand. Was never her intention to use any money to save them, would negate their very suffering purpose as well. She did not believe we all had learned the lesson yet in her time so she had to pretend to be solving the problem while continuing the problem. You see, the money was a byproduct of no importance to her, used just to get the peoples’ attention by using what they valued, let the Church have it for other things for it had served it’s purpose by bringing her sought after awareness of the poor & dying into view. In pretending to like & accept attention to herself, honors, & even challenges to these choices, all for one purpose to fool, to get the poor & dying attention, is why she was so distressed near the end by the means she had to use to reach that end! And perhaps her sheer loss of hope at having to stoop to such measures which reflects on the sad state of the rest of us. Wondering here where the money went doesn’t understand anything of what she was trying to do. [C]: Thank You Naa Ayele Kumari for plowing through my thoughts enough to ‘like’ even! Could I be understood that Mother Theresa’s intentions were ‘higher’ than just taking care of the poor & dying in institutions, but to have the people understand there should be ‘feelings’ for them so they would never ever even have to be cared for in such ‘style’? She sacrificed these many nonpeaceful deaths to display, to show, to the whole world the direction it was heading, for the saving of the future multitudes of suffering & deaths if no one understood & cared soon. She dreamed these future lives would be right & good & their deaths would be the same attended by loved ones of their own, no need for group interference. She did not wish to just contain such tragedy, but to eliminate it from the whole earth forever. In the smaller scale view of some today the institutions are a necessary step, however Mother Theresa thought this a false step on a horrible path in the wrong direction, & she knew this, & dreamed beyond! To send away, to cage, the suffering, old, & sick in any society is a crime against Mother Nature no matter what the excuses or how pretty the packaged institution is presented! [Z] Did not foresee the discussion would provoke such indepth and rich responses. It feels that we are getting close to the bottom of the matter that has not been brought up for so long, not in my life time. Profound interactions that make us aware of the aspects of how our thinking and living can be based on the kind of values we hold. I treat each and all of you in the hand of our goddesses. Anne Wilkerson Allen: I think the Mother always moves us back toward compassion. Whether we have a sense of deity or not, we can all understand contextually how she was used and that her “beliefs” left her with such poverty of spirit that her entire life is under the microscope. I wonder, will the media ask what the Church has done with all their Billions or simply focus on a dead nun indoctrinated by the system? Diane Horton: No, I am sorry. [C], that is an incredible rationalization of Mother Teresa’s actions. Unbelievable actually. For you to justify her not using the extraordinary amount of money sent to her by saying that she chose to use these horrible deaths to bring attention to the sick and the dying and evoke compassion in people – that is the most megalomaniac position possible! Did she assume the role of God then?? That is outrageous! To think that she had the means to relieve these poor people’s sufferings and chose not to in order to USE them is even more heinous to me! I cannot wrap my head around how you think that is a good thing. She already HAD evoked compassion for these people. That’s why the money poured in! And all the “pretending” and lying you said she did for the greater good? NO. Compassion and empathy are a basic human response to suffering. “She sacrificed these nonpeaceful deaths” REALLY?! She had no right. And she was wrong. I can see no lofty ideal she was displaying there. Diane Horton: Forgive, me. I could not let what was said there lie. I won’t say anymore. Everyone has their own perspective. And each perspective together makes the whole. Blessed Be. [C]: On this […]
(Special Post 7) Why Goddess Feminism, Activism, and Spirituality?

[Editor’s Note: This was first proposed in The Mago Circle, Facebook Group, on March 6, 2014. We have our voices together below and publish them in sequels. Special thanks to Trista Hendren, founder and author of The Girl God, who passionately and painstakingly promotes the message of each contributor via Facebook’s memes. Without Trista’s devotion to the advocacy, this collective effort would not have continued. It is an ongoing project and we encourage our reader to join us! Submit yours today to Helen Hwang (magoism@gmail.com). Or visit and contact someone in Return to Mago’s Partner Organizations.] Kaalii Cargill: Life emerges from the Feminine: Woman, Nature, Goddess. When we value the life-giving power of the Feminine we are less likely to kill other human beings who have been held in a mother’s arms.

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/
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 …
(Slideshow) Summer Solstice Goddess by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

Sekhmet by Katlyn Each year between December 20-23 Sun reaches Her peak in the Southern Hemisphere: it is the Summer Solstice Moment. Poetry of the Season may be expressed in this way: This is the time when the light part of day is longest. You are invited to celebrate SUMMER SOLSTICE Light reaches Her fullness, and yet… She turns, and the seed of Darkness is born. This is the Season of blossom and thorn – for pouring forth the Gift of Being. The story of Old tells that on this day Beloved and Lover dissolve into the single Song of ecstasy – that moves the worlds. Self expands in the bliss of creativity. Sun ripens in us: we are the Bread of Life. We celebrate Her deep Communion and Reciprocity. Glenys Livingstone, 2005 The choice of images for the Season is arbitrary; there are so many more that may express Her fullness of being, Her relational essence and Her Gateway quality at this time. And also for consideration, is the fact that most ancient images of Goddess are multivalent – She was/is One: that is, all Her aspects are not separate from each other. These selected images tell a story of certain qualities that may be contemplated at the Seasonal Moment of Summer Solstice. As you receive the images, remember that image communicates the unspeakable, that which can only be known in body, below rational mind. So you may open yourself to a transmission of Her, that will be particular to you. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=syTBjWpw3XU Shalako Mana Hopi 1900C.E. (Hallie Iglehart Austen, The Heart of the Goddess), Corn Mother. Food is a miracle, food is sacred. She IS the corn, the corn IS Her. She gives Herself to feed all. The food/She is essential to survival, hospitality and ceremony … and all of this is transmuted in our beings. Sekhmet Contemporary image by Katlyn. Egyptian Sun Goddess. Katlyn says: Her story includes the compassionate nature of destruction. The fierce protection of the Mother is sometimes called to destroy in order to preserve well being. And Anne Key expresses: She represents “the awesome and awe-full power of the Sun. This power spans the destructive acts of creation and the creative acts of destruction.”- (p.135 Desert Priestess: a memoir).A chant in Her praise by Abigail Spinner McBride: Sheila-na-gig 900C.E. British Isles. (Hallie Iglehart Austen, The Heart of the Goddess). From Elinor Gadon The Once and Future Goddess (p.338): “She is remembered in Ireland as the Old Woman who gave birth to all races of human…. In churches her function was to ward off evil”, or to attract the Pagan peoples to the church. From Adele Getty Goddess (p.66): “The first rite of passage of all human beings begins in the womb and ends between the thighs of the Great Mother. In India, the vulva “known as the yoni, is also called cunti or kunda, the root word of cunning, cunt and kin … (the yoni) was worshipped as an object of great mystery … the place of birth and the place where the dead are laid to rest were often one and the same.” Getty says her message here in this image “is double-edged: the opening of her vulva and the smile on her face elicit both awe and terror; one might venture too far inside her and never return to the light of day …” as with all caves and gates of initiation. In the Christian mind the yoni clearly became the “gates of hell”. And as Helene Cixous said in her famous feminist article “The Laugh of the Medusa”: “Let the priests tremble, we’re going to show them our sexts!” (SIGNS Summer 1976) Kunapipi (Australia) “the Aboriginal mother of all living things, came from a land across the sea to establish her clan in Northern Australia, where She is found in both fresh and salt water. In the Northern Territory She is known as Warramurrungundgi. She may also manifest Herself as Julunggul, the rainbow snake goddess of initiations who threatens to swallow children and then regurgitate them, thereby reinforcing the cycle of death and rebirth. In Arnhem Land She is Ngaljod …” (Visions of the Goddess by Courtney Milne and Sherrill Miller – thanks to Lydia Ruyle). More information: re Kunapipi. NOTE the similarity to Gobekli Tepe Sheela Turkey 9600B.C.E., thanks Lydia Ruyle.Lydia Ruyle’s Gobekli Tepe banner. Inanna/Ishtar Mesopotamia 400 B.C.E. (Adele Getty, Goddess: Mother of Living Nature) She holds Her breasts displaying her potency. She is a superpower who feeds the world, nourishes it with Her being. We all desire to feel this potency of being: Swimme and Berry express: “the infinite striving of the sentient being”. Adele Getty calls this offering of breasts to the world “a timeless sacred gesture”. Mary Mother of God 1400 C.E. Europe (Hallie Iglehart Austen, The Heart of the Goddess). A recognition, even in the patriarchal context that She contains it all. Wisdom and Compassion Tibetan Goddess and God in Union. This is Visvatara and Vajrasattva 1800C.E. (Sacred Sexuality A.T. Mann and Jane Lyle). Sri Yantra Hindu meditation diagram of union of Goddess and God. 1500 C.E. (Sacred Sexuality A.T. Mann and Jane Lyle, p.75). “Goddess and God” is the common metaphor, but it could be “Beloved and Lover”, and so it is in the mind of many mystics and poets: that is, the sacred union is of small self with larger Self. Prajnaparamita the Mother of all Buddhas. (The Great Mother Erich Neumann, pl 183). She is the Wisdom to whom Buddha aspired, Whom he attained. Medusa Contemporary, artist unknown. She is a Sun Goddess: this is one reason why it was difficult to look Her in the eye. See Patricia Monaghan, O Mother Sun! REFERENCES: Gadon, Elinor W. The Once and Future Goddess. Northamptonshire: Aquarian, 1990. Getty, Adele. Goddess: Mother of Living Nature. London: Thames and Hudson, 1990. Iglehart Austen, Hallie. The Heart of the Goddess.Berkeley: Wingbow, 1990. Katlyn, artist https://www.mermadearts.com/b/altar-images-art-by-katlyn Key, Anne. Desert Priestess: a memoir. NV: Goddess Ink, 2011. Mann A.T. and …
(Essay) Walking with Bb by Sara Wright

Walking with Bb: a story exploring the psychic connection between one woman and her bear. Preface: The black bear – hunting season in Maine is brutal – four months of bear hell – five if one includes the month where hunters can track bears for “practice” with hounds – separate mothers and cubs, terrorize them, tree them and do anything but legally kill them. During the legal slaughter, Hunters bait bears with junk food by putting old donuts etc. in cans and shoot the bear while he or she is eating. Most bears (82 percent) are slaughtered in this manner, the rest are killed by hounding and trapping. The season begins in August and lasts through December. Trapping, by the way, is illegal in every state but Maine. Black bears are hated, and that hatred will, of course, eventually result in their extirpation. I had a shy (male) year old black bear visiting my house this past summer with whom I developed a friendship, and what follows is part of our story: Last Saturday I was walking down the road when I remembered that I had not done my daily “circle of protection” imaging for Bb (standing as he was the day he visited me at the window early in August). When I began to do this another picture of Bb moving on all four feet with his face turned towards mine super-imposed itself over his standing image. I could almost see his expression, but not quite. I didn’t know what this imaging meant beyond that we were communicating in some unknown way, and he was in the area (not a good thing on hunting Saturdays). He had not been coming in most nights and I was worried… That night he came. He is still making nightly visits five days later, the most sequentially consistent visits since September 15th, the day I believed that he had been shot. This experience prompted me to write about telepathy and precognition. It is close to All Hallows and the full Hunter’s moon (Nov 3). I keep listening to Charlie Russell’ story which reminds me that loving bears (especially male bears) is hard, almost a sure recipe for disaster, and that I was not alone in this deep concern for and fear of losing Bb. I can barely stand to remember my other bear losses and I can’t stand feeling them. Even after I wrote about the incident with Bb, the experience seemed to carry a charge that didn’t dissipate. Had I missed something? Next I wrote “Root Healer,” exploring the possibility that as I continued to act as Bb’s “little bear mother” now employing psychic techniques to keep him safe (in some desperation as it was the only means left open to me to protect this very vulnerable yearling), that Bb’s presence might also include a gift for me and that it might involve some kind of root healing for my body because Nature thrives on reciprocity. One idea I missed completely, for it was so obvious. Bb’s image was communicating to me that we were having a psychic conversation in that very moment. It was the first time in three months of imaging protective circles that moved with him that I had confirmation from him that we were communicating effectively in this unknown way. This rarely happens. Normally when I do this kind of work, I just do it. I don’t get direct confirmation that it’s working from the animal itself (except with Lily b). Knowing this helped me make another decision I might not have made so intentionally. The hunting season will last into mid December, and I will be traveling during that last month. I keep thinking that putting actual physical distance between Bb and I might pose more of a threat for his life and I have to remind myself that psychic phenomena are not distance dependent. I should be able to image that protective circle every day and feel that it is working. Bb has already shown me that it can but I fear adding distance because I don’t completely trust my own perceptions.* I suspect believing might be an additional dimension of ensuring success when it comes to psychic protection for this bear. But how do I incorporate belief into a picture that is so clouded with personal/cultural doubt? Half the time I don’t believe myself and virtually no one except Rupert Sheldrake, Iren and Harriet have ever taken my experiences seriously. I have to remind myself that I have done this work many times dealing with doubt and it worked anyway. The point of writing this reflection might be to put me on a new edge of increasing Bb’s odds of survival. If it’s possible that an attitude that embraces believing in what I do could help me protect Bb more effectively until hunting is over and its time for him to den in peace I want to claim it. The question I need to answer now is how to go about moving into a more trusting self as a woman who continues to walk with a bear at her side? The night after I wrote the above paragraph I dream of the doubters in the roles of my parents, and in a friend. I take these dreams seriously as doubters inside me and out. These dreams may be telling me that it is unreasonable to expect me to believe that what I do works when no one else does? The problem with this idea is that on some level I do believe. I feel as if I am walking with this bear, every single day. I think about him constantly. The only thing that got me out of the house yesterday was that he was out of chocolate donuts. Something is intensifying my relationship with Bb although I never see him. I am caught in a field of bear energy and information, perhaps through some version of beauty and the beast. That an archetype is …
The Ceremonial Creative Cosmos 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. The Cosmos is a ceremony, a ritual. Dawn and dusk, seasons, supernovas – it is an ongoing Event of coming into being and passing away. The Cosmos is always in flux, and we exist as participants in this great ritual event, this “cosmic ceremony of seasonal and diurnal rhythms” which frame “epochal dramas of becoming,” as Charlene Spretnak describes it.[i] Swimme and Berry describe the universe as a dramatic reality, a Great Conversation of announcement and response.[ii]Ritual/ceremony[iii] may be the human conscious response to the announcements of the Universe – an act of conscious participation. Ceremony then may be understood as a microcosmos[iv] – a human-sized replication of the Drama, the Dynamic we find ourselves in. Swimme and Berry describe ritual as an ancient response humans have to the awesome experience of witnessing the coming to be and the passing away of things; they say that a “ritual mode of expression” is from its beginning “the manner in which humans respond to the universe, just as birds respond by flying or as fish respond by swimming.”[v] It is the way in which we as humans, as a species, may respond to this awesome experience of being and becoming, how we may hold the beauty and the terror. Humans have exhibited this tendency to ritualize since the earliest times of our unfolding: evidence so far reveals burial sites dating back one hundred thousand years, as mentioned in the previous chapter. We often went to huge effort in these matters, that is almost incomprehensible to the modern industrialised econocentric mind: the precise placing of huge stones in circles such as found at Stonehenge and the creation of complex sites such as Silbury Hill may be expressions of some priority, indicating that econocentric thinking – such as tool making, finding shelter and food, was not enough or not separate from the participation in Cosmic events. Ritual seems to have expressed, and still does actively express for some peoples, something essential to the human – a way of being integral with our Cosmic Place, which was not perceived as separate from material sustenance, the Source of existence: thus it was a way perhaps of sensing “meaning” as it might be termed these days – or “relationship.” Swimme and Berry note that the order of the Universe has been experienced especially in the seasonal sequence of dissolution and renewal; this most basic pattern has been an ultimate referent for existence.[vi] The seasonal pattern contains within it the most basic dynamics of the Cosmos – desire, fullfilment, loss, transformation, creation, growth, and more. The annual ceremonial celebration of the seasonal wheel – the Earth-Sun sacred site within which we tour – can be a pathway to the Centre of these dynamics, a way of making sense of the pattern, a way of sensing it. One enters the Universe’s story. The Seasonal Moments when marked and celebrated in the art form of ceremony may be sens-ible ‘gateways’ through the flesh of the world[vii] to the Centre – which is omnipresent Creativity. Humans do ritual everyday – we really can’t help ourselves. It is simply a question of what rituals we do, what story we are telling ourselves, what we are “spelling”[viii] ourselves with – individually and collectively. 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”[ix] 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.[x] Ceremony then is a form of social action. NOTES: [i] Spretnak, States of Grace, 145. [ii] Swimme and Berry, The Universe Story, 153. [iii] I will use either or both of these terms at different times: I generally prefer “ceremony” as Kathy Jones defines it in Priestess of Avalon, Priestess of the Goddess, 319. She says that ritual involves a repeated set of actions which may contain spiritual or “mundane” elements (such as a daily ritual of brushing one’s teeth), “whereas ceremony is always a spiritual practice and may or may not include ritual elements.” The PaGaian seasonal celebrations/events are thus most kin to “ceremony,” although I do not perceive any action as “mundane.” However, “ritual” is more commonly used to speak of how humans have conversed with cosmos/Earth. [iv] Spretnak, States of Grace, 145. [v] Swimme and Berry, The Universe Story, 152-153. [vi] Ibid. [vii] Abram speaks of “matter as flesh” in The Spell of the Sensuous, 66, citing Maurice Merleau-Ponty, The Invisible and the Invisible (Evanston, Illinois: Northwestern University Press, 1968). [viii] Starhawk used this term on her email list in 2004 to describe the story-telling we might do to bring forth the changes we desire. [ix] A term used by Gloria Feman Orenstein in The Reflowering of the Goddess (New York: Pergamon Press, 1990), 147. [x] As my doctoral thesis supervisor Dr. Susan Murphy once described it to me in conversation REFERENCES: Abram, David. The Spell of the Sensuous. New York: Vintage Books, 1997. Jones, Kathy. Priestess of Avalon, Priestess of the Goddess. Glastonbury: Ariadne Publications, 2006. Orenstein, Gloria Feman. The Reflowering of the Goddess. New York: Pergamon Press, 1990. Spretnak, Charlene. States of Grace: The Recovery of Meaning in the Postmodern Age. San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1993. Swimme, Brian and Berry, Thomas. The Universe Story: From the Primordial Flaring Forth to the Ecozoic Era. New York: HarperCollins, 1992.
(Book Excerpt) Held in the Womb of the Wheel of the Year by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an excerpt from the Introduction of the author’s new book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. Meditation cushion in circle of decorated stones My ancestors built great circles of stones that represented their perception of real time and space, and enabled them to tell time: the stone circles were cosmic calendars.[i] They went to great lengths and detail to get it right. It was obviously very important to them to have the stones of a particular kind, in the right positions according to position of the Sun at different times of the year, and then to celebrate ceremony within it. I have for decades had a much smaller circle of stones assembled. I have regarded this small circle of stones as a medicine wheel. It is a portable collection, that I can spread out in my living space, or let sit in a small circle on an altar, with a candle/candles in the middle. Each stone (or objects, as some are) represents a particular Seasonal Moment/transition and is placed in the corresponding direction. The small circle of eight stones represents the flow of the Solstices and Equinoxes and the cross-quarter Moments in between: that is, it represents the “Wheel of the Year” as it is commonly known in Pagan traditions. I have found this assembled circle to have been an important presence. It makes the year, my everyday sacred journey of Earth around Sun, tangible and visible as a circle, and has been a method of changing my mind, as I am placed in real space and time. My stone wheel has been a method of bringing me home to my indigenous sense of being. Each stone/object of my small wheel may be understood to represent a “moment of grace,” as Thomas Berry named the seasonal transitions – each is a threshold to the Centre, wherein I may now sit: I sense it as a powerful point. As I sit on the floor in the centre of my small circle of stones, I reflect on its significance as I have come to know the Seasonal transitions that it marks, over decades of celebrating them. I sense the aesthetics and poetry of each. I facilitated and was part of the celebration and contemplation of these Moments in my region for decades. It was always an open group that gathered, and so its participants changed over the years but it remained in form, like a live body which it was: a ceremonial body that conversed with the sacred Cosmos in my place. We spoke a year-long story and poetry of never-ending renewal – of the unfolding self, Earth and Cosmos. We danced and chanted our relationship with the Mother, opened ourselves to Her Creativity, and conversed with Her by this method. All participants in their own way within these ceremonies made meaning of their lives – which is what I understand relationship to be, in this context of Earth and Sun, our Place and Home in the Cosmos: that is, existence is innately meaningful when a being knows Who one is and Where one is. Barbara Walker notes that religions based on the Mother are free of the “neurotic” quest for indefinable meaning in life as such religions “never assumed that life would be required to justify itself.”[ii] I face the North stone, which in my hemisphere is where I place the Summer Solstice. From behind me and to my right is the light part of the cycle – representing manifest form, all that we see and touch. From behind me and to my left is the dark part of the cycle – representing the manifesting, the reality beneath the visible, which includes the non-visible. The Centre wherein I sit, represents the present. The wheel of stones has offered to me a way of experiencing the present as “presence,” as it recalls in an instant that, That which has been and that which is to come are not elsewhere – they are not autonomous dimensions independent of the encompassing present in which we dwell. They are, rather, the very depths of this living place – the hidden depth of its distances and the concealed depth on which we stand.[iii] This wheel of stones, which captures the Wheel of the Year in essence, locates me in the deep present, wherein the past and the future are contained – both always gestating in the dark, through the gateways. And all this has been continually enacted and expressed in the ceremonies of the Wheel of the Year, as the open, yet formal group has done them, mostly in the place of Blue Mountains, Australia. PaGaian Cosmology altar/mandala: a “Womb of Gaia” map Over the years of practice of ritually celebrating these eight Seasonal Moments – Earth’s whole annual journey around Sun, I have been held in this creative story, this Story of Creativity as it may be written – it is a sacred story. Her pattern of Creativity can be identified at all levels of reality – manifesting in seasonal cycles, moon cycles, body cycles – and to be aligned with it aligns a person’s core with the Creative Mother Universe. I have identified the placing of one’s self within this wheel through ceremonial practice of the whole year of creativity, as the placing of one’s self in Her Womb – Gaia’s Womb, a Place of Creativity. All that is necessary for Creativity is present in this Place. All may come forth from here/Here – and so it does, and so it has, and so it will. NOTES: [i] See Martin Brennan, The Stones of Time: Calendars, Sundials, and Stone Chambers of Ancient Ireland (Rochester Vermont, Inner Traditions, 1994). [ii] Barbara Walker, The Woman’s Encyclopaedia of Myths and Secrets (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1983), 693. [iii] David Abram, The Spell of the Sensuous (New York: Vintage Books, 1997), 216. REFERENCES: Abram, David. The Spell of the Sensuous. New York: Vintage Books, 1997. Brennan, Martin. The Stones of Time: Calendars, Sundials, and Stone Chambers of Ancient Ireland.Rochester Vermont: Inner Traditions, 1994. Walker, Barbara. The Woman’s Encyclopaedia of Myths and Secrets. San Francisco: …

(Book Excerpt 6) The Mago Way by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D.

[Author’s Note] The following is from Chapter One, “What Is Mago and Magoism and How Did I Study HER?” from The Mago Way: Re-discovering Mago, the Great Goddess from East Asia, Volume 1. Footnotes below would be different from the monograph version. PDF book of The Mago Way Volume 1 download is available for free here.] Magoism, East Asian Religions, and Magoist Mudangs As mentioned above, Magoism refers to the totality of human civilization that is ultimately gynocentric. Speaking from a narrow perspective, Magoism is the primordial matrix from which such East Asian religions as Daoism, Buddhism, and Confucianism were derived. In the light of Magoism, a patriarchal religion is redefined as a pseudo-Magoism that which has co-opted the Way of the Great Goddess (Magoism) with the androcentric reversal of the female
(Book Excerpt 5) The Mago Way by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang, Ph.D.

[Author’s Note] The following is from Chapter One, “What Is Mago and Magoism and How Did I Study HER?” from The Mago Way: Re-discovering Mago, the Great Goddess from East Asia, Volume 1. Footnotes below would be different from the monograph version. PDF book of The Mago Way Volume 1 download is available for free here.] How My Education and Experience Helped Me Study Mago The topic of Mago came to me in time for writing my doctoral dissertation for the Women’s Studies in Religion program that I was enrolled in at Claremont Graduate University. My graduate education, which I crafted to be a feminist cross-cultural alchemical process of de-educating myself from the patriarchal mode of knowledge-making, led me to encounter the hitherto unheard-of Goddess of East Asia, Mago. I came to read the Budoji, the principal text of Magoism, in 2000 and did some basic research to find out that Mago was known among people in Korea and that S/HE was also found in Chinese and Japanese sources.
(Video) The Mago Work by Mago Sisters by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

https://www.youtube.com/watch?list=PL-hbgxa5v1IfUM6h6PvOTpLe8fLv5ExRG&v=HUM6EQ7sEaQ