August 6, 2014October 2, 2019 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Poem) Handprints on a Cave Wall by Mary Saracino

Meet Mago Contributor, Mary Saracino. If I touched my hands to the ochre palms that grace the walls of the ancient cave would I know the secrets the rocks whisper Read More …

(Poem) I Am My Ancestors’ Wildest Dreams by Mary Saracino

Vergamini Clan from Author’s personal archives of old family photos. I am my ancestors’ wildest dreams realized,a woman unafraid to speak her mindlive out loudunabashedly love who I choosewithout hesitationor shameI honor their passage in steeragecrossing an ocean to embracea different life than what was given themthey dreamed of freedomliving life unfettered by theboot heels of tyrannythey dreamed of days and nightsbrimming with ease, laughter, pride,inviolable sovereigntymy grandmothers no longer shackled to traditionsthat entombed their spirits, constrained their giftsmy grandfathers no longer imprisonedby the limitations of class and ethnicityI am their dream actualized at long, long lastnot perfect, but perfectingnot finished, but ever evolvingleaping to conjure the hopes they heldin their hearts, dance with the possibilitiesthey envisionedsing the songs they left unsungno longer silenced by omertano longer afraid to breatheto say I amI amI am https://www.magoism.net/2013/05/meet-mago-contributor-mary-saracino/
(Poem) ‘Sunrise Over the U.S.A.’ by Harriet Ann Ellenberger

Sunrise Over the U.S.A. In place of the old dream and the old lies, I wish for my country of origin a new story, one that goes like this: We rode roughshod, we drove pedal to the metal, we blew our own cylinders. We squeezed the life from all we could lay hands on, converted our kill into currency, bowed low before the greenback god we made. Then — an inch from extinction — in the midst of brawling, bawling blowing each other away, we woke from our nightmares. Watched the sun rise. Said this is a good day to live. We started to share food and keep house. It was astonishing how quickly the tall-grass prairie, intricate forest that bends with the wind, grew back. Astonishing how quickly the milkweed pods shot up and the monarchs laid ever more eggs on them and the great butterfly migration strengthened. Astonishing when legions of Canada Geese flew south again, barking and writing long flat V’s in the sky. We woke, and the earth under our feet decided to live. It was that definitive, that clear a turning. − Harriet Ann Ellenberger How “Sunrise” came to be: My problems with my country of origin started in 1953, when my second-grade class began practicing to survive nuclear war. The alarm would sound, and we would quickly and not very quietly line up single-file and proceed into the windowless hallway, where each of us would face the wall and cover our head with our arms. I remember crying myself to sleep that year because I felt sure that our “civil-defense drills” were no protection at all. Which meant that either the adults in my world were liars or they were crazy. I didn’t know which it was, but I swore with all the passion of my seven-year-old self that I would never ever forget that children are not stupid, no matter what adults may think. My problems with “America” got worse in seventh-grade geography class, when I was cleaning up cabinets in the back of the room after school, probably as punishment for some infraction I can’t remember. I discovered at the bottom of one cabinet a box of pamphlets published during World War II, intended for young people. The pamphlets were full of pictures of Stalin surrounded by schoolchildren, being given flowers by schoolchildren, and the text was about the brave citizens of the Soviet Union and “our Friend, the Russian Bear.” Our Friend, the Russian Bear? I experienced an explosion of light in my head. I realized that we were being systematically lied to by adults, and that the lies changed as “the enemy” changed. The older I got and the more people I met and the more I learned about world history, the more outraged I became. By the time the United States invaded Iraq under false pretences, I was spitting nails and breathing fire out of my nostrils every time I heard the name of my country of origin. And this continued up to the time of writing “Sunrise,” in February 2012, when something in me suddenly and inexplicably changed. My father’s mother, the only grandmother I knew, used to say to me, “If wishes were horses, poor men would ride.” (By that, she meant, Don’t get your hopes up, girl.) But I disagree with my grandmother: I think wishes are not a waste of time. A wish is a beginning, and to imagine a turning away from destruction and a turning toward life in a country with so much blood on its hands is necessary. Dream-body leads, and only then can touch-body follow.
(Essay 4) Circe the Island Witch by Hearth Moon Rising

The last essay in this series mentioned Robert Graves’s assertion that Circe is a falcon goddess. If so, her type of falcon would be Eleonora’s Falcon, a medium-sized raptor that nests in the Mediterranean, particularly in rocky islands in the Aegean Sea. Eleonora’s Falcon is approximately the size of the Peregrine Falcon, with dark gray upper coloring and either a gray or reddish underside. Like all falcons, Eleonora’s has the fast-moving, agile flight pattern adapted for preying on other birds. Unlike other falcons, Eleonora’s raises chicks in the late summer, mining the fall migration of songbirds as a food source. In late autumn, this falcon migrates along the African coast to Tanzania and Madagascar. What does Eleonora’s Falcon have in common with our picture of Circe, aside from having a high profile on isolated Aegean islands? Keeping in mind that the name of Circe’s island is Aeaea, listen to the cries of this falcon: From Xeno-Canto These chilling cries remind us that this bird is a predator – a hunter like the archetypal death goddess. Also like Circe, this falcon takes hostages, crippling birds taken on the wing and storing them in crevices for later consumption. Despite the fierceness and isolated habitat of Eleonora’s Falcon, humans have been the major predators of this bird, both for eggs and fat tasty chicks. This was once an esteemed falconry bird, especially popular with women. In light of this history, the following advice of Hermes in dealing with Circe is interesting. Hermes tells Odysseus, Do not press any advantage over her, but at the same time do not allow her to dominate you. This is classic strategy for managing a bird in falconry. Here is a five minute video showing Eleonora’s Falcon in her natural environment. https://youtu.be/LOMtlXzKzCY You can listen to more Eleonora’s Falcon calls here. The next essay will look at a historical woman who had much in common with Circe as a falcon goddess.
(Essay 2) The Body – Essential or Not? by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is the second part of an evolved version of an excerpt from Chapter 2 of her book PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion. Often the work of woman-centred and Gaian/Earth-centred philosophers and writers has been subject to critique by gender-sceptical feminist theory as essentialist, as a perceived “collapse” of female into nature.[i] In the case of my own work and writing, I am actually identifying all being – not just female and male, or just human, but flora and fauna and stars and rocks as well, and even human culture – with nature, and I then metaphorise the dynamics of all being as female, which could be construed as essentialist. It does invoke “female sacrality” which for some indicates an essentialising of sacredness as female.[ii] I acknowledge that it may be so, but also assert that it need not be understood this way. In the case of my work and practice PaGaian Cosmology, there is a recognition or naming of “female-referring transformatory powers”[iii] that are identified as cosmic dynamics essential to all being – not exclusive to the female. For example, “conception” is a female-referring transformatory power, that is, it happens in a female body;[iv] yet it is a multivalent cosmic dynamic, that is, it happens in all being in a variety of forms. It is not bound to the female body, yet it occurs there in a particular and obvious way. In past ideologies, philosophies and theologies – many of which still make their presence felt, and hence are present – the occurrence of “conception” in that place (the female body) has been devalued; “‘conception” has only been valued in the place of the mind – usually the male mind – as “concept”. Then in some circles of feminist spirituality particularly, there has been reversal of this so that the female body – and sometimes her bodymind – was the only place for significant “conception”: I am not saying that. My work and cosmology affirms “conception” as a female-referring transformatory power which manifests multivalently in all being, thus affirming female sacrality as part of all sacrality. It does thus affirm the female as a place; as well as a place. I do also affirm other qualities of the Universe’s transformatory powers as female-referring … birthing, feeding, containing: and thus She is the most appropriate metaphor to describe the Body we find ourselves within, as we recognise the resonances. My Search in its academic form (of doctoral research) was an inquiry into the affects of such recognition on the hearts and minds and actions of participants – female and male, and including myself. It remains a question for most of the present world: what difference would such recognition and affirmation make to our world? What difference would a “menstrual cosmology”[v] make to the human co-creating of the world – as has been asked and suggested by such brilliant woman-centred philosophies of Judy Grahn[vi] and numerous others. In our times Western science in some niches is arriving at a resonant cosmology, but often with no recognition or acknowledgement of the Maternal nature of these resonances, of the repeated patterns within the female body in particular: She is still left out of the equation. So it often becomes more of Zeus “giving birth” to Athena, a stealing of the “female-referring transformatory” powers of the Cosmic Cauldron in which we are, our Maternal heritage – that of all genders. It may just be more of treating Her like furniture – sitting on Her lap playing King, with no recognition that it is Her sacrality, Her Place and Body. Charlene Spretnak’s work over decades is notable in her conscious and explicit linking of new unfoldings of Western science to female-referring reality.[vii]
The Servants of the Cailleach by Jude Lally

Cailleach and the Wolf. Digital art by Jude lally In folk etymology, January is known as Faoileach, wolf month. An entire month where the wolf is both figuratively and symbolically at the door. While food resources may well be running low, the wolf also experienced hunger which drove them from the wild places and closer to town. The winds of the wolf month are described as being sharp, ravenous, and tearing, like the jaws of a desperate and hungry predator. Wolf in the storm Digital art by Jude Lally Dark storm clouds racing across the land, blasting icy winds and striking hail is the Cailleach riding a wolf. A long fluffy tail sweeping down brings a heavy rain shower, while a lighter layer of grey cloud is the old hag’s tattered skirts. Sadly the wolf only approaches in spirit and rides with the Cailleach in shapeshifting clouds for man’s hunger to obliterate the species from Scotland was ferocious enough that the last wolf was said to be shot in 1680, in Killiecrankie, Perthshire. That was the official record while other tales say they kept on in wild places, up until the 18th century. My Grandmother always said that March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb, another saying, this one of February, is that it comes in with the head of a serpent, and goes out with a peacock’s tail. But if February were to come in with a peacock’s tail and leave with the head of a serpent, or march to come in like a lamb and leave like a lion, then there would be a lot to worry about, especially if your existence depended on sheep, cattle, and fishing. Naming the patterns of weather kept a track of recognized periods and what to expect. If spring is on your mind you might well forget that the beginning of March can bring snow, but when your birthday is in early march you remember that more often than not snow is due. Lapwing, or Green Plover Spring is divided up into several parts. After the Faoillech (the stormy), next is The Whistle, also called the Plover, which is the first week of March, a week of whistling winds. “I am the bare, swift, leggy plover, I can kill both sheep and lambs’ The Dogfish is actually a Catshark and its egg sack often washes up on beaches – known as a mermaids Purse. Photo source: www.beachcombingmagazine.com/blogs/news/a-mermaid-s-purse The period of weather known as the Gobag (Dog-fish) is the second week of March, which is a week of heavy rains. ‘Gobag, Gobag Mother of the month of cold, Thou didst kill the sheep and the lean lamb, Though didst kill the grey goat in two watches, And the speckled stirk in one’. In some of these weeks, there is a borrowing of days, three days from April might be inserted into March – experienced as a false sense of spring, which then is swallowed up by sweeping winds. These three borrowed days are then experienced in April, a few days of gusts of winds which then will disappear as spring progresses. Cailleach and her Cauldron, the Whirlpool of Corryvrecken. Digital art by Jude Lally And so the wolf (the stormy), the dogfish, and the plover are referred to as servants of the Cailleach. As March progresses and cycles towards Spring Equinox, which was New Year in Scotland up until the 16th century, comes the days of the Cailleach. This marks the last of the storms as the weather begins to wain, seen in stories of the Cailleach, the great crone of Gaelic belief. The storms are short, overtaken by sunshine breaking through. The lines of this verse suggest the Caillech trying to defeat this new budding energy and failing miserably. Shootings here and sprouting there,It eludes me everywhere;Overhead and underfootBud and blade blossom shoot. It escaped me below, it escaped me above,It escaped me between my two hands,It escaped me before, it escaped me behind,It escaped me between my two eyes.It escaped me down, it escaped me up,It escaped me between my two ears,It escaped me thither, it escaped me hither,It escaped me between my two feet.I threw my druidic evil wand,Into the base of a withered hard whin bush,Where shall not grow ‘fionn’ nor ‘fionnidh, She strikes here, she strikes there, She strikes between her legs, but the grass grows too fast for her, and in despair, she throws the hammer from her, and where it lighted no grass grows. She threw it beneath the hard holly tree, Where the grass or hair has never grown. Black Reading these lines I can see them playing out on the hills out of my window – huge rain sheets bring lashing rains, which are very brief and then the sun breaks through. Dark clouds move in again, obscuring the sun, only for sunbeams to shine down and light up the new green. Ben Lomond (local mountain on the east shore of Loch Lomond) disappears again in a veil of rain, and like a magic show suddenly appears again with a great rainbow. The next day arrives, like the day borrowed from April when you can leave your winter coat at home. This pattern of weather is solidified in the fight of the Cailleach with spring, sometimes with St Brighid, Bride, making a special appearance, in embellished tales. These patterns of weather never quite adhered to calendar dates, and this is why they were given stories to recognize this tumultuous period. As long as each story played out you could keep track of the rough pattern and know that soon it would be soon time to plant seeds, tend to sheep and lambs, and head out in fishing boats and begin to feed themselves from the land’s bounty. But what happens when March borrows entire weeks from April or even June? Then June borrows two weeks from March and new crops are flooded, giving us the wettest summer or record. …
(Essay 4) *Click Here* to Download Spirituality by Francesca Tronetti

The spiritual and self-care market walks a fine line between those who legitimately wish to help others along their spiritual path or deal with mental or emotional issues and those who want to make several quick bucks. Along the way, I found businesses that understood that the pagan spiritual path had many branches that people sometimes walked in tandem. Other companies just threw a bunch of pentacle branded items in a box with some herbs because they think that’s what being pagan means. And perhaps to them, that is all that being a pagan means. When I was looking at boxes, I was in awe of the herbalism boxes. As someone interested in gardening, I thought it would be good to learn herbalism. However, herbalism is like any other practice or skill. It involves devoting a significant portion of your time to learning the art. You need to spend time making tinctures and salves or infusing oils. While I thought I would enjoy doing that, I quickly found I didn’t have the time or space to learn the craft. The same is true if you want to learn about and balance your chakras; lazy spirituality will not help you there. This practice takes time and dedication. It is not simply a matter of incorporating some extra meditation and a new mantra into your routine. A small ‘balance your chakras’ set I found in a store had weekly tasks including exercise, evaluating your finances, and examining your relationships with people. Really, for $5, it was an excellent investment in improving multiple facets of your life which affect your mental, physical, and spiritual well-being. After much trial and error, I decided to keep receiving two boxes, Spiritual Goodies and the Intentional Witch mini box. Spiritual Goodies leans more to Eastern practices; however, I enjoy the books included in the package, making the box helpful for my spiritual inquiry. The box is primarily about teaching the recipient. It has meditation practices and simple spell work, which is a good box for exploring a new spiritual path. The Intentional Witch mini box is a small box that contains a candle, a crystal or piece of jewelry, incense, and the necessary components to a spell for a specific intention. The larger box has a similar theme, where each month, the subscriber sets an intention, and items and rituals are curated to help them meet that intention. The subscriber cannot request a specific intention for the smaller monthly box. However, the boxes I have received so far have been for practical purposes, such as helping with my job hunt. Several of the boxes I tried, such as Tamed Wild and Witch’s Moon, are best used by knowledgeable practitioners. These boxes focus more on using magic and ritual in one’s daily life and provide pages for a grimoire and ritual and altar items to expand one’s practice and knowledge. While I do not subscribe to the boxes, I check back in on the company website. Their online stores offer past packages, and some of them contain items that I could use in my practice. I also check back with other boxes, such as Lunarly, which sometimes offers past packages at a much lower price, one I feel is worth what they contain. But, of course, this is my opinion based on my spiritual needs and path at this time. And my path is changing as I grow my practice and transition to a new stage in my life. At the end of this project, I have reached some conclusions about the spiritual subscription box market. The primary finding is that before you decide to try out a box or three, you need to know a bit about the spiritual path you want to explore. If you try searching for subscriptions online or on a site like CrateJoy.com, you will quickly become overwhelmed with the number of boxes available. As of this writing, there are 166 listed under Spiritual and New Age, with 56 in the Witch subcategory. Going in without a plan, you can be pulled in multiple spiritual directions because many things look interesting. The pages for these boxes have been set up to display the best of their offerings. Photos show boxes overflowing with items or altars set up using items from the delivery. Of course, these photos often showed the contents of several boxes or used larger items bought from an online store operated by the same company. A little research on reviews and watching some unboxing videos on YouTube can be very helpful. You can see what comes in each box to determine if the package is worth your money. Seeing what you are getting can help shake the stars out of one’s eyes and judge what you bring into your spiritual life. Due to Covid and other reasons, by 2020, I was burned out on so many levels that I didn’t know what I needed anymore. This is partly why I started the project, to explore a range of spiritual practices and maybe find one that worked for me. And, since I was diving into the deep end of commercial spirituality, I decided to take others along for the journey to keep me engaged and involved with the services on an intellectual level and a spiritual one. As you have read, sometimes, I succeeded, and sometimes I didn’t. Sometimes I loved the surprises of the boxes, and sometimes I was angry and felt ripped off. I learned through the project that the method for choosing a spiritual subscription box was much the same as finding a spiritual path. The fancy-looking expensive box might leave you feeling hollow inside. But you might discover spiritual peace by following a few different practices and using what works for you. I found that most of the boxes I explored were legitimately attempting to help the subscriber on their spiritual path. Even a box that initially seemed very superficial displayed later depths. It encouraged its user …
(Poem) Butterflies, Goddess, Love, and Freedom by Carolyn Lee Boyd

Photo credit: By Michele Castagnetti, CC BY-SA 4.0 Wikimedia Commons This poem revolves around three actual events: a couple of months ago I was lying under a rose scented geranium when what looked like a caterpillar dropped into my hair (though inside in winter, which means it couldn’t have been an actual caterpillar and I still don’t know what it was, rather than outside in summer), while I was sitting at my mother’s bedside as she was dying I heard the melody from Madama Butterfly and felt deeply comforted, and, finally, a friend told me the story of how she was watching a monarch butterfly fly for the first time and, just as it lifted off, a flock of monarchs arrived and they all flew off together. When I put the three events together, the message of this poem appeared. In a bold moment, risking oblivion for being’s adventure,The milky caterpillar unfurled her grasp on the leaf,Her emerald rose geranium nursery, and flung herselfLike a trapeze artist, into the swirling maelstrom of my hair, My Medusa’s snake strands winding and waving even at rest to catch herAs I lay on the cool, verdant Earth watching the roiling clouds. I had called the butterflies, the dragonflies and damselflies, the beesTo my garden, enticing with fragrant, nutritious milkweed, motherwort, Jerusalem artichoke.The mother butterfly answered with the gift of her larvae before heading home.I promised her I would lie on the ground, her child in the tangle of my hair,The place where women’s spiritual power nests.I promised her I would be still and comforting until the baby’s summer birth,My hands reaching into the soil and clasping fingers with the mycelium,Sending out the message that I am here for the duration.My eyes dim from the sunlight. My water evaporates to the heavens. To the ancient Greeks, the butterfly is the goddess Psyche, the soul,Essence of beauty and mother of joy.To the Nahua people in Mexico, the butterfly is the goddess Itzpapalotl, the soul,Who wears the symbols of death tattooed on Her face. Many years ago, as I sat vigil at my mother’s side while she was dying,I heard the melody from opera Madama Butterfly.It originated not from this realm,But from the portal opening for her to pass through,A leaving from this life that she loved but which was hers no more.Love is eternal. From that time, butterflies have symbolized to me grief and lossEven as I have craved witnessing their wings beating the air,Circling the garden’s blooms and berries.For years I have tried in vain to lure butterflies to my garden.Did they sense my bereavement and feel unwelcomeUntil now, right at this very moment? Outstretched on the embracing wet soil,The breath of herbs and grass soothing me,I have finally gained the message that my mother tendered to meIn the melody that had brought to my mind in that sad moment the flight of butterflies.“Freedom, freedom,” she had coaxed the angels to sing to me,In words untranslated for me till now.Like the butterflies breaking out of their cocoons,“With a mother’s love, with a Goddess’s love, with the Earth’s love,You are free. We could want no more and no less for you.” A butterfly rises from my hair, fluttering against my cheek.For one moment we see each other. She has human eyes,My mother’s eyes that are also my eyes,So that my mother lives on in me.The baby-no-more dries her wings as a flock of sister butterflies surrounds us.They fly away together and none looks back. I try to fly with them by willing my feet to rise into the skyBut I am heavy and earthbound.Now I am fully human, my fingers no longer part of the mycelium,My eyes no longer dim from the sunlight, my body no longer wet from dew.I take up my life again, myself but also more,With dried wings made not of filament, but of flesh and soul. Hello? Have you come to visit? Please, sit in my garden. We’ll have a cup of tea. We’ll chat. How are you? Did you know that butterflies have just come back to my garden this year? I welcome them when they come and wish them adieu when it is time for them to fly away. What else can I do? https://www.magoism.net/2016/08/meet-mago-contributor-carolyn-lee-boyd/
(Prose) The texture of your life by Nane Jordan

What is the texture of your life? Text-ure – from the root “text” with the -urrrreeeeeee. Texture is a feeling, in fingers touching fabric, rubbing to discern the sensation of crisp, soft, bristly, wrinkled, or firm. The texture of our lives is not something we work towards, or even earn. It’s not a goal, or a choice we make. It’s not owning a house, getting the right or wrong job, being in love, or being very, very, ill. Falling asleep last night I felt it, the texture of my life. Lying content in my own bed, at home at last, gazing at the dimming summer light through our window curtains, I was enjoying this stillness at the end of the day. And there (and then) it was, my texture, flowing out in all directions. There was/is peace in this sensing. Words miss what it is to sense one’s texture. Like a quilt or patterned design, I could see/feel all my various elements at work, a choreography of people, relations, places and time. Those I was born into, those I have given birth to. Those I love and have loved. Tragedies and triumphs are all equal in texture, it’s all part of the feel of the fabric. There is no judgement in texture. Texture might include my sense of going to Paris, or my simple gratitude of living in this East Vancouver neighbourhood. It’s made of all that, but it’s not about that exactly. Texture arises of its own accord. In texture, there is no worrying, manipulating, or making of circumstances and events, or feeling in the ways we might habitually feel about others in our lives. One simply rests in texture, recognizing it all, including the self you were meant to be-come in relation to all those selves around you, without having to pursue anything about this. Maybe it’s the passage of time that brings forward our textures. Is it a middle-age thing to know? In shedding form, we more and more recognize form. Texture is the ALL-ness of life, the good, the bad, the happy, the sad, the mediocre, the just-as-it-is. We don’t make it, yet we very much are it. It’s there in the weaving of life’s threads. One senses who one is, who is around us, the forces of what and who forms and gives us our particular shape, just as we form and give shape. And it is all good, good in the sensing of it all. https://www.magoism.net/2014/03/meet-mago-contributor-nane-jordan/ (Meet Mago Contributor) Nane Jordan.
(Prose & Photography) Patriarchy: For Love of Predators by Sara Wright

Photography by Sara Wright I live just down the road from one of our many lakes and ponds here in western Maine. Almost every morning I hear the haunting call of the loons as they fly over the house. Although I cherish the symphony I have never figured out why some of these birds making this early morning flight from one lake to another. I have never seen any research that supports my experience – but obviously, for unknown reasons some loons move routinely from pond to pond. Why remains a mystery. I used to have a woodsman friend who once commented that he didn’t understand why everyone loved loons so much because they were fierce predators who speared their hapless fish, duck, or goslings to death before devouring them. At the time I found Don’s statement ironic (and irritating!) because this man was an excellent brook trout fisherman and deer hunter. In his defense I must add that I had to acknowledge that he also loved all animals; after deer hunting season ended he fed his deer all winter. I want to digress a moment to tell a story about Don. The year before his death one buck left him a complete set of antlers on the night of the winter solstice; the next year on solstice night Don died. At the time of his death (I didn’t know this until the next day) an antler he gave me clattered to the floor. Although we never spoke of it I understood that Don’s relationship with wild animals was as intimate as my own. Acknowledging this truth created enormous ambivalence in me because I loved and studied wild animals. I did not kill them. I wanted to separate myself from Don. But at the same time I ate fish and chicken so how could I really make a distinction between him and me? And what about all the plants I ate? Wasn’t I a predator too? I carried this contradiction with great discomfort for years before finally being able to accept it. All life feeds on the lives of others…like it or not. Life, death, and renewal, as Carol Christ believed. To return to my original story, Don’s remark about the loons stayed with me because up until then I had never thought of loons as predators… I had grown up falling asleep to the sound of loons calling on the lake, watched them raise their young ones at a time before speedboats became a summer reality. Whippoorwills, loons, frogs, and lightening bugs brought in our joyous summer nights. Who could imagine that all of these animals would become so endangered? Loons are iconic water birds and once they began dying Audubon, followed by many other groups, attempted to bring back the loons, many of which were dead from lead poisoning. As most people know this effort was successful. Today loons once again grace summer ponds… Eagles also became threatened but through tireless conservation efforts these birds returned to our waters too. On the pond closest to me eagles abound, often plucking loon chicks for dinner. Initially, I took sides with the loons, especially after witnessing a lone chick being snatched up by deadly hooked talons to be swept away, perhaps to feed one of the two eaglets. For years now we have had a giant eagle’s nest on one of our islands that attracts enormous attention from people in boats every summer, people who hope to get a glimpse of one. And everyone I know covets an eagle feather except me. On our lake we also have a whole gaggle of wild geese who are shot (- illegally in summer – during the fall migration there is an open hunting season on geese as well as other water fowl -) by the people who live here because they don’t like geese fertilizing their lawns. I happen to love geese. They are birds that live in genuine community. As vegetarians they munch away at wild grasses and raise their young with great tenderness gathering in large groups to surround the fuzzy goslings as they mature. There is always a papa goose who acts as protector keeping a sharp eye on all of the others. Geese are shy of humans because they have been treated so badly. Whenever I am paddling in the pond I talk to them hoping they will allow me to kayak close by, but they make no exceptions. In the fall, one of sounds I love the most is listening to the geese as they gather in large V’s to migrate south – a perilous journey. At dusk the skies overflow with their poignant goodbyes. Often, as these birds take flight above me, Mother Goose tales come to mind, because as most feminists on FAR know, geese are associated with the Great Mother. I think it was my love of geese that also helped me to answer a question I had. I wondered why saving predators of all kinds, loons, eagles, raptors, wolves, wild cats etc. was a priority for the American people (true for other countries too). It is only now, for example, after we have lost 2.9 billion birds, that songbirds like nightingales and warblers, are finally getting some attention. Other birds like geese are perceived to be nothing but a nuisance – an expendable one at that. What is it about predators that humans find so attractive? I think predators reflect the patriarchal structure that humans have adopted for the last five thousand years. Patriarchy supports a hierarchal society where some people – mostly middle class white men have all the power. I think our love of predators is a mirror in which men and many women see themselves, one that reflects the power over model, while peaceful matriarchal egalitarian societies like the ones Carol Christ studied, as well as other Indigenous peoples, animals and birds are ignored or hunted, often to extinction. (Meet Mago Contributor) Sara Wright https://www.magoism.net/2014/12/meet-mago-contributor-sara-wright/

(Special Post) Discussion on Mother-Daughter Wound by Mago Circle Members

[Mago Circle members discussed and answered the question, “What do you think of this (the topic article below)? If you are a feminist, it is something that you would promote? If so, why? If not, why not?” The discussion took place on May 15, 2017 and shortly thereafter in The Mago Circle.] Topic Article: “For The Daughters Who Don’t Love Their Mothers – Screw Mother’s Day” by Sade Andria Zabala Everyone talks about a mother’s unconditional love. But what if it doesn’t exist? Daughters are socially expected to be close with their mothers. But are you one of the women who aren’t? Mother’s Day isn’t just for celebrating moms. It’s a day some of us dread because we are reminded we grew up (or are still) unloved, not good enough. (Read the whole article here.)
(Special post) Interweaving Mago Threads by Mago Circle Members

“Mago” tradition Magoism is a new word to the modern Western vocabulary, yet it has its linguistic roots in many parts of the globe and in an ancient knowledge and know-how almost lost. Dr Helen Hwang determinedly and methodically is excavating the little-understood historical Mother-Goddess knowledge of Korea, and its traditions, the Mago, and Magoism, and in doing so is unlocking another previously invisible door, and replacing another ripped-off corner of the global map of significant, almost-lost tradition and forgotten knowledge. This is a most welcomed prospect. The newness of this discovery for those who learn of it fills them with excitement because every step to remember the ancient ways, particularly the lost Goddess ways, and those ways that hint of Source, are crucial to humanity remembering itself. Moderns have become accustomed to modes of mind that strip the soul and psyche of finer attunement to earth, sea, stars and each other. This renders most adrift on a sea of seeming limitless freedoms, to be picked up by any technological hook that would substitute for inner knowing. The map becomes the new computer wiring, insurance policy or bank regulation to follow. But once we scrape from our psyches the encrustation of mind most moderns have settled with (which calcifies the innate senses and finer antennae of knowing, emboldening technologically driven modes of mind and being to take their place), then we are on our way to a vivifying recollection. Here is an earlier presentation of the “mago” root word in “imago” or image. Not coincidentally, perhaps, it is connected to maps. (Mary Ann Ghaffurian, culled from Through a Darkened Door—Light, Part 2 by Mary Ann Ghaffurian PhD [http://magoism.wordpress.com/2012/11/26/through-a-darkened-door-light-part-2-by-mary-ann-ghaffurian-phd/]) A very special online, global group Dearest X, …Which brings to mind the “other” reason why I wanted to write to you … Other than just saying “hello” and letting you know that you are very much missed, I also wanted to share with you about a very special online, global group that I have had the honor of being a part of. This group is called Mago Circle and it was founded by my dear friend, “sister” and colleague, Helen Hwang. Helen’s work and commitment to restoring Mago, Ancestral Mother Goddess, to her rightful place as progenitor and creatrix of the Korean people, has not only been admirable but truly critical during a time when we are in real need for inspiration from thought leaders and scholars with a solid foundation in the arts and research of the sacred feminine. As you know, with the roots of Korean shamanism in the realm of women, it makes perfect sense that Korean spirituality must also have sprung within the womb of Woman … the great cosmic goddess, Mago. While Helen’s work is very much grounded in meticulous research — showcasing Korea to the rest of the world in all of Her depth, herstory, and vibrance — it is more importantly, founded in genuine intentions of love, transparency, and humility. I know that Helen can explain the depth, breadth, and height of her work much better than me so I think it will be better to have her directly share more of herself with you; what I simply hope to do through this letter is perhaps help serve as a familiar hand …. reaching out to you and letting you know that your presence and blessings as a well-regarded and much-admired Korean female shaman and scholar would be much appreciated in Mago Circle. Do you remember, X, … you once told me … about 20 years ago: “Sanity is insanity with a focus.” These words I still remember and hold true … they have helped me through times that were truly dismal and chaotic in my life, and with this reassuring and transformational way of looking at myself, looking at my life, looking at the world, I have made it through. My life continues to have its share of insanity, but I know that with focus, all sanity is restored. I know that my letter to you today may feel unexpected and random (especially after not having seen each other for so, so long), but as you know, somehow, life brings us through twists and turns that may seem awkward and strange at first, but upon retrospect, all makes complete sense. In closing, may I have the honor and pleasure of introducing Helen Hwang and the Mago Circle to you … I realize that you must be very busy, but it is my sincere hope that you will find a little time to acquaint yourself with Helen and this wonderful group of women (and men) who are very much dedicated to restoring the balance and peace of Korea and the world via Mago and her goddess sisters of many names… (Wennifer Lin, culled from her letter to her old friend) I share your call for staying connected with each other at a time of cultural and religious tensions. I too believe that all tensions arise from a patriarchal system of hegemony or domination. In the absence of patriarchal hegemony, there would be little or no tension among human beings. The belief in the Mother Goddess would remove the necessity for aggression and hence domination of other human beings or animals. In the eyes of the Mother, every living being is her creature. Hence love, kindness, nurturing and all that is beautiful would prevail everywhere. Am I sounding too idealistic or am I pining for a utopian society that is just not possible? But in theory, it is possible to return to the spirit of Mother, manifest in everything in nature and in our thoughts and actions. With admiration and preservation of Mother we can change the world for a better place. So with this in mind, I submit to all women (who are the living image of the Great Mother Goddess) and goddess lovers in the world to unite in our efforts to bring back the ideals of the Great Goddess. As an academic, I […]
(Special Post 8) Why Goddess Feminism, Activism, and Spirituality?

[Editor’s Note: This was first proposed in The Mago Circle, Facebook Group, on March 6, 2014. We have our voices together below and publish them in sequels. Special thanks to Trista Hendren, founder and author of The Girl God, who passionately and painstakingly promotes the message of each contributor via Facebook’s memes. Without Trista’s devotion to the advocacy, this collective effort would not have continued. It is an ongoing project and we encourage our reader to join us! Submit yours today to Helen Hwang (magoism@gmail.com). Or visit and contact someone in Return to Mago’s Partner Organizations.] Marija Krstic-Chin To remember who we really are (nature, cycles, network, creative force, one, infinite…) for the benefit of all of humanity and all living things; and to unite and unify as we broadcast, hand down, protect and defend this truth and each other against the oppressive intentions and actions of patriarchal perpetrators, puppets, and pawns who seek to enslave us by various old and new divide-and-conquer strategies.

(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.
Lammas/Late Summer within the Creative Cosmos by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an edited excerpt from Chapter 10 of the author’s new book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. Southern Hemisphere – Feb. 1st/2nd, Northern Hemisphere – August 1st/2nd These dates are traditional, though the actual astronomical date varies. It is the meridian point or cross-quarter day between Summer Solstice and Autumn Equinox, thus actually a little later in early February for S.H., and early August for N.H., respectively. a Lammas/Late Summer table The Old One, the Dark and Shining One, has been much maligned, so to celebrate Her can be more of a challenge in our present cultural context. Lammas may be an opportunity to re-aquaint ourselves with the Crone in her purity, to fall in love with Her again, to celebrate She Who creates the Space to Be. Lammas is a welcoming of the Dark in all its complexity: and as with any funerary moment, there is celebration of the life lived (enjoyment of the harvest) – a “wake,” and there is grieving for the loss. One may fear it, which is good reason to make ceremony, to go deeper, to commit to the Mother, who is the Deep; to “make sacred” this emotion, as much as one may celebrate the hope and wonder of Spring, its opposite. If Imbolc/Early Spring is a nurturing of new young life, Lammas may be a nurturing/midwifing of death or dying to small self, the assent to larger self, an expansion or dissipation – further to the radiance of Summer Solstice. Whereas Imbolc is a Bridal commitment to being and form, where we are the Promise of Life; Lammas may be felt as a commitment marriage to the Dark within, as we accept the Harvest of that Promise, the cutting of it. We remember that the Promise is returned to Source. “The forces which began to rise out of the Earth at the festival of Bride now return at Lammas.”[i] Creativity is called forth when an end (or impasse) is reached: we can no longer rely on our small self to carry it off. We may call Her forth, this Creative Wise Dark One – of the Ages, when our ways no longer work. We are not individuals, though we often think we are. We are Larger Self, subjects within theSubject.[ii] And this is a joyful thing. We do experience ourselves as individuals and we celebrate that creativity at Imbolc. Lammas is the time for celebrating the fact that we are part of, in the context of, a Larger Organism, and expanding into that. Death will teach us that, but we don’t have to wait – it is happening around us all the time, we are constantly immersed in the process, and everyday creativity is sourced in this subjectivity. As it is said, She is “that which is attained at the end of Desire:”[iii] the same Desire we celebrated at Beltaine, has peaked at Summer and is now dissolving form, returning to Source to nourish the Plenum, the manifesting – as all form does. This Seasonal Moment of Lammas/Late Summer celebrates the beginning of dismantling, de-structuring. Gaia-Universe has done a lot of this de-structuring – it is in Her nature to return all to the “Sentient Soup” … nothing is wasted. We recall the Dark Sentience, the “All-Nourishing Abyss”[iv] at the base of being, as we enter this dark part of the cycle of the year. This Dark/Deep at the base of being, to whom we are returned, may be understood as the Sentience within all – within the entire Universe. The dictionary definition of sentience is: “intelligence,” “feeling,” “the readiness to receive sensation, idea or image; unstructured available consciousness,” “a state of elementary or undifferentiated consciousness.”[v] The Old Wise One is the aspect of the Cosmic Triplicity/Triple Goddess that returns us to this sentience, the Great Subject out of whom we arise. We are subjects within the Great Subject – the sentient Universe; we are not a collection of objects, as Thomas Berry has said.[vi] This sentience within, this “readiness-to-receive,” is a dark space, as all places of ending and beginning are. Mystics of all religious traditions have understood the quintessential darkness of the Divinity, known often as the Abyss. Goddesses such as Nammu and Tiamat, Aditi and Kali, are the anthropomorphic forms of this Abyss/Sea of Darkness that existed before creation. She is really the Matrix of the Universe. This sentience is ever present and dynamic. It could be understood as the dark matter that is now recognized to form most of the Universe. This may be recognized as Her “Cauldron of Creativity” and celebrated at this Lammas Moment. Her Cauldron of Creativity is the constant flux of all form in the Universe – all matter is constantly transforming. We are constantly transforming on every level. a Lammas/Late Summer altar These times that we find ourselves in have been storied as the Age of Kali, the Age of Caillaech – the Age of the Crone. There is much that is being turned over, much that will be dismantled. We are in the midst of the revealing of compost, and transformation – social, cultural, and geophysical. Kali is not a pretty one – but we trust She is transformer, and creative in the long term. She has a good track record. Our main problem is that we tend to take it personally. The Crone – the Old Phase of the cycle, creates the Space to Be. Lammas is the particular celebration of the beauty of this awesome One. She is symbolized and expressed in the image of the waning moon, which is filling with darkness. She is the nurturant darkness that may fill your being, comfort the sentience in you, that will eventually allow new constellations to gestate in you, renew you. So the focus in ceremony may be to contemplate opening to Her, noticing our fears and our hopes involved in that. She is the Great Receiver – receives all, and as such She is the Great Compassionate One. Her Darkness may be understood as a Depth of Love. And She is Compassionate because of …
Imbolc: Through Goddess Eyes by Carolyn Lee Boyd

Photo by Carolyn Lee Boyd In times past, Creation’s Winter cupped me in her icy hand of sanctuary Gathered in, I sucked dormant life, and slumbered Till Earth’s rebirthing groans awakened my new body Now, older and full of life’s weeping and wondering awe At all that has happened in my decades on Earth I must shake myself into consciousness My seed’s opaque, blinding hull disintegrates and Bodyless, at last I can see through Goddess eyes I ache as my blood paints each flower petal I spin the whirlwind that cannot stop creating abundance I push the seasons through the year that mortals believe revolve of their own accord. Through Goddess eyes I can see me, I inhabit Winter’s hand as my own. I make the cold to slow creation of outside of me To gather the seed into fertile stillness within. That burgeons in my own time. https://www.magoism.net/2016/08/meet-mago-contributor-carolyn-lee-boyd/
(Essay) Contemplating How Her Creativity Proceeds by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

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

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

The ‘passing of last Summer’s growth’ as is experienced and contemplated in the Season of Deep Autumn/Samhain, may be a metaphor for the passing of all/any that has come to fullness of being, or that has had a fullness, a blossoming of some kind, and borne fruit; and in the passing it has been received, and thus transforms. The ‘passing of last Summer’s growth’ may be in hearts and minds, an event or events, a period of time, or an era, that was a deep communion, now passed and dissolved into receptive hearts and minds, where it/they reside for reconstitution, within each unique being. Samhain is traditionally understood as ‘Summer’s end’: indeed that is what the word ‘Samhain’ means. In terms of the seasonal transitions in indigenous Old European traditions, Summer is understood as over when the Seasonal Moment of Lammas/Lughnasad comes around; it is the first marked transition after the fullness of Summer Solstice. The passing and losses may have been grieved, the bounty received, thanksgiving felt and expressed, perhaps ceremonially at Autumn Equinox/Mabon; yet now in this Season of Samhain/Deep Autumn it composts, clearly falls, as darkness and cooler/cold weather sets in, change is clearer. In the places where this Earth-based tradition arose, Winter could be sensed setting in at this time, and changes to everyday activity had to be made. In our times and in our personal lives, we may sense this kind of ending, when change becomes necessary, no longer arbitrary: and the Seasonal Moment of Samhain may be an excellent moment for expressing these deep truths, telling the deep story, and making meaning of the ending, as we witness such passing. What new shapes will emerge from the infinite well of creativity? And we may wonder what will return from the dissolution? What re-solution will be found? We may wonder what new shapes will emerge. In the compost of what has been, what new syntheses, new synergies, may come forth? Now is the time for dreaming, for drawing on the richness within, trusting the sentience, within which we are immersed, and which we are: and then awaiting the arrival, being patient with the fermentation and gestation. Seize the moment, this Moment – and converse with the depths within your own bodymind, wherein She is. Make space for the sacred conversation, the Conversing with your root and source of being, and take comfort in this presence. We may ponder what yet unkown beauty and wellness may emerge from this infinite well of creativity. The Samhain Moment in the Northern Hemisphere is 17:14 UT 7thNovember this year. Wishing you a sense of the deep communion present in the sacred space you make for this holy transition.

(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.
(Essay 3) The Magoist Calendar: Mago Time inscribed in Sonic Numerology by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

[Author’s Note: This is my latest research that has led me to restore the 13-month, 28-day Mago Calendar, which will be included at the end of its sequels. See Mago Almanac: 13 Month 28 Day Calendar (Book A), published in 2017.] THE SECOND CALENDAR Then, the Earth had increasingly so much work in all regions. Biodiversity went overboard. The terrestrial song became uncontrollable. The initial calendar became defunct. Lifeforms were left uncoordinated. The Earth fell into disorder, as she had no one to tune the song of earthlings in harmony with the cosmic music of creativity. The Earth was in need of sentient beings who could undertake the task. Mago’s descendants were to be born. Humans were entrusted to cultivate the earthly sound property by the Nine Mago Creatrix. The Budoji writes:
(Essay 1) How Did I Fall In Love with Korean Historical Drama? by Anna Tzanova, M.A.

Go to online class, Korean Historical Dramas. “To become a kairomancer¹, you need to learn to trust your feelings as you walk the roads of this world, to develop your personal science of shivers, to recognize in your gut and your skin and in free-floating impressions that you know far more than you hold on the surface of consciousness. You need to take care of your poetic health, reading what rhymes in a day or a season. You want to expect the unexpected, to make friends with surprises, and never miss that special moment.” ~ Robert Moss² After a year and a half of work without a day off; driving 100-150 miles every other day; writing past midnight every night; at the end of July 2011, overwhelmed by fatigue, I finally decided to take a weekend off. Little did I know, that time off would last over seven months, during which I would not only change my job, but also acquire a new passion.