January 25, 2016October 2, 2019 RTM EditorLeave a comment

(Essay) Deeper Down Under: and Moonwalking on Uluru, by Taffy (Robert) Seaborne

This essay was originally written by the author in Spring of 2006, and was published in Gaian Voices Volume 4, Number 3 & 4 Uluru Kata Tjuta National Park is a World Heritage Read More …

(Meet Mago Contributor) Lise Weil

Photo by Sara Wright Lise Weil was founder and editor of the US feminist review Trivia: A Journal of Ideas (1982-1991) and of its online offshoot Trivia: Voices of Feminism (2004-2011). Her 2018 memoir, In Search of Pure Lust, is a long meditation on lesbian desire. In her memoir, Lise reflects on the ways in which the stumblings and failings of her personal life during those years mirrored those of the movement as a whole. She now edits Dark Matter: Women Witnessing, a journal devoted to healing our broken relationship with the earth. Until this year when the college closed, she taught in Goddard College’s Graduate Institute, where she helped found a concentration in Embodiment Studies.
(Prose) First Call to Ceremony by Sara Wright

Photo by Sara Wright I prepare for winter by tipping sweet balsam to make my wreath. Always an intentional undertaking, I honor all evergreens during this month and next as I weave myself into the Circle of Life with fragrant boughs… I gather my balsam candles and put lights on my little Norfolk Island Pine in preparation for the Festival of Fire, scattering crimson cranberries around her base. Adding acorns, hemlock cones, moss and lichen attach me to ‘All There Is’. Photo by Sara Wright Inside and outside are One… “I am a lady in waiting”… I have learned that Nature decides when it’s time to engage in any ceremony that helps spin the wheel – I listen for the call. At this turning I light the Solstice Fire more than once, acknowledging the element’s ambivalent Powers, the long winter nights. I had just completed some painful shadow work. This year it involved holding loved ones accountable for a lifetime of betrayals. I owned my confusion. Applauded my accountability. I had been blind; I could not see or believe what my body knew, perhaps because I had been cut away from my roots. My 50 percent. There are always two sides… Hardest to bear is the feeling that Love lives on and is not dependent on behavior no matter how cruel the actions might be. Owning this last truth created the most excruciating griefof all. I spent the remainder of that day gripped by heartbreak. On the heels of diving deep I felt my inner fire igniting. I awakened feeling lighter … An early winter storm was brewing as I made my way to the brook and down to the field, perhaps for the last time. I am flowing with what happens as climate change has her way. For the last few years, a frozen slippery crust has replaced soft snow making snowshoeing impossible, so I take advantage of these last wet wheat leafed days to spend time walking on my paths, soaking in the emerald green tree moss that makes her way up tree trunks, conversing with field and brook spirits. These intentional jaunts inspire gratitude allowing me to celebrate the joy of living in such a place…being able to walk at all is this year’s greatest gift. That same afternoon while snowflakes drifted earthward, I went outdoors once again, this time to be in the presence of whirling winter’s early embrace. Thoughts of somber winter goddesses floated through my mind, and I could almost see one hovering, her dark gray mantle flowing through the trees. These dark winter goddesses speak the truth so many don’t want to hear – this season is not a kind one, and death is in the air although one day these forces will usher in rebirth like the bear does once the dark winter tunnel has been traversed. A bird standing in the snow By midafternoon a pearl white shroud covered the twigs, needles, and branches of each tree, and sodden snow lay at my feet. The first ‘call’ when it came surprised me because it was only December 3rd. More than a vague nudge, a sharp sense of knowing flowed through my body lodging itself in my mind. Time to light the Solstice Fire for the first time, to ask for protection from dark spirits, to accept the coming season’s white glare, biting winds and storms, to celebrate the warmth of being held by the Gift of Life Herself. I had yet to construct my mask… Had the shadow work I’d done brought this early intentional lighting on? I had no way of knowing. Returning to the cabin I kindled a fire that lit up the entire room – a warm glow seemed to penetrate every crevice even as it seeped into my heart. The first fire to be lit this year… I suspected there would be another… Ceremony makes her own rules. Grouse, photo by Sara Wright I gathered a ball of frozen snow melting it for our blessing and lit the candle inside the wreath. We sat, the dogs and I caught by the magic of scrying flames and the fragrant scent of balsam. Andrea Bocelli’s Aver Maria floated through the room as the dogs sighed and slept. Our bird was already asleep in his bower. It was in this manner that we first surrendered to the season and the uncertainty of winter white. We had entered a mystical realm for a few brief hours. Afterwards, a simple repast and one more venture outside into the dark, this time under heavy falling snow. Anxiety struck around 2 AM catapulting me into the future as I fretted… Would there be too much snow to move by daybreak? This morning at 5 after shoveling our way out the door in the dark feeling oh, too old and vulnerable, I remembered those precious hours… Later I had two visitors. The first female cardinal I’ve seen in months was hungrily cracking and eating the seeds I left on the windowsill. She thoughtfully left me a rose tipped feather. The next morning another beloved, grandmother grouse appeared. Messengers from the Beyond – the goddess returns benign. Postscript In most cultures except ours birds that appear at significant times are seen as ‘messengers from the beyond’. I don’t know if having life -long relationships with birds makes a discernable difference, but birds DO bring messages to me that are amazingly consistent. For example, two days after completing the shadow work the owl hooted just outside my window bringing on a chill, because owls are always associated with my mother who remains a dark figure in my life. https://www.magoism.net/2014/12/meet-mago-contributor-sara-wright/
(Review) Animal Magic in Chauvet Cave by Hearth Moon Rising

One of the most intriguing glimpses into the perspectives of Europe’s Paleolithic people is documented by the artwork of the Chauvet Cave in southern France. These paintings originate from about 30,000 B.C.E. and continue over a span of more than 5,000 years. (To put that in perspective, 5,000 years before today the great pyramids of Egypt had not yet been built.) The cave was rediscovered in 1994 by a spelunker, and given the breadth and quality of the art this relatively recent discovery was fortuitous, since degradations in other cave paintings in France and Spain have taught important lessons about the fragility of Ice Age art. For this reason, admission to the cave is limited to select scientists and art historians, and even their access is severely circumscribed.
(Essay) Equinox @ EarthGaia by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

At 2:29 UT on September 23rd – as it is commonly measured – our planet Earth will arrive at the second point of balance of light and dark in Her annual orbit around our Star: and for those of us in the Southern Hemisphere it is Spring, the time often traditionally named as Eostar for Earth-based religious practices (which was adopted as Easter in Christian practice in the Northern Hemisphere in the Middle Ages). The celebration of Equinox, whether it is Spring or Autumn, may be a celebration of the Sacred Balance, the creative tension in which Life is born, the delicate balance in which Creativity of the Universe is possible. It is a Moment of perfect Spin. Thus I understand Equinox as a moment of balance of the Creative Dynamic who unfolds the Cosmos, who may be expressed as three qualities of Goddess … whether the tip is about to be into the light (Spring) or into the dark (Autumn), the three qualities of Cosmogenesis are expressed for a moment in a fertile balance of tensions: and Spring Equinox in particular, expresses the manifestation of all that we enjoy here on planet Earth, as Life burst forth with new strength. And Earth Herself is an Eostar event: this epoch of teeming life on our Planet in Her sacred location in our solar system, is an Eostar in the greater scheme of things. I understand it expressed here by cosmologist Brian Swimme and cultural historian Thomas Berry (1992:54). A cloud of elements hovered, floated … far from the centre of the Milky Way galaxy. …In our universe, the originating powers permeating every drop of existence drew forth ten thousand stars from this quiescent cloud. To varying degrees, these stellar beings manifested the universe’s urge toward differentiation, autopoiesis, and communion. And at least one of these, the Sun, managed to enter the deeper reaches of the universe creativity, a realm where the complexity, self-manifestation, and reciprocity at the very heart of the universe revealed themselves in a way transcending anything that had occurred for ten billion years – as an extravagant, magical, and living Earth burst into a new epoch of the universe story.[1]
(Meet Mago Contributor) Luke Buckham

Luke Buckham lives in Turners Falls, Massachusetts, where he makes art, music, and poetry. Over a thousand of his poems written since 2004 are in his blog at O Machine. LUKE BUCKHAM- selected poems 2013 is a video of him performing. He has published two collections, Woke up in Flames and Moonlight on Moloch: 20 Redneck Symphonies, and has worked in various literary magazines such as Word Riot, whimperbang, Muscadine Lines, Poetry SuperHighway, and Spread. http://youtu.be/yHPT-kjxIys http://thenewtimes.blogspot.com/
Convergence by Samantha Ledger

There is a convergence of two selves that allows my heart to grow. For with the beating of my wings comes the chaos of life and the rain that flows from the rivers to the sea. How deep must we bury our histories to ensure they rot peacefully, silently. The slumber of children is disturbed, strung from clouds by the bone idle fingers of that which we believe we have left behind.I have built my home upon the shore, to ensure I remain of the water but with foundations buried deep enough they still touch dry land. Love runs its course, ever sprung from the spring whose source I dare not seek, for I fear the truth shall weaken me. Mine is not to question why I am loved, only to lay myself down to it, openly, bloodily. There is a rush and pulse of affection that throbs indignant of your shadow, that stretches evenly toward the centre of yourself. Always then, we are between two worlds. As I must be. For it is who I am.The ravens call from the woods, we are back to that wood again. It follows me from place to place, as does the sea. I am pulling, always, a vast ocean of remembering behind my body. My back has started to curve with the weight, and Atlas laughs from time to time at my plight, now freed of his own insurmountable burden. Time comes and goes, turns to me and cups my face; we are old bed fellows, lovers, enemies, siblings, parents of one another. We have promised to turn from each other and return to where we came, but I will not relent and refuse. This was always a story of defiance. My story, your story, the story.Branches sway in March winds; the sound of a swing needing oil pierces the air, metronomic, tick ticking. The flame of the candle in the window smokes black, staining the glass so my soot-covered fingers must be licked to see out again. We all have such days and the bandaged winged robin still takes food from my hand. Ilex aquifolium pricks my mouth, as common as my mother when she laid in the ditches to play in the mud and middle with the rotting leaves. Some never die when they are meant to, so the rest of us suffer the consequence from birth. Some are marred by their histories, and some are made.I am building the foundations of my life in plaster and wooden posts, with spit and sweat and blood. There is oil on the floor, but we do not weep because of it; we throw handfuls of sand to soak the stain from the ground and begin again. There is no oil slick, I am no longer chocking; such things I have laid down and hold close only when sleeping. This is my milieu; there is no disaster. Read more of Samantha Ledger’s work.
(She Summons Excerpt) Save the Princess, Save the World: Mario as an Agent of the Goddess by Jillian Burnett

[Editor’s Note: This piece is included in She Summons: Why… Goddess Feminism, Activism and Spirituality?” Volume 1 (Mago Books, 2021).]This essay fuses Goddess-centered spirituality with post-colonial economic narrative. Using this lens, we will look at a popular video game to see its world, lands, and the productions of those lands as expressions of Mother Earth. The princess in this story is also an incarnation of the energy of Goddess. Using a Shaktist lens – where female divinity permeates and is expressed through all perceivable phenomena, where Goddess is the ultimate reality from whence matter and consciousness arise, I will consider the adventure story presented in Super Mario Bros. (U Deluxe) and examine the correspondence of the theme of invasion-expansion and the seizure of natural resources and of the means and modes of production, and I will bridge both of these with the meaning of Goddess as she is expressed as all things in the world. The plot opens when Princess Peach and her kingdom are suddenly attacked and laid under siege. Colonizer-King Bowser Koopa attacks with his airship, surrounding the castle of Princess Peach. He installs his children, the Koopalings, in the varied regions of her world. This war-violence expresses a spiritual and political takeover that overturns the natural order of feminine power. Barbaric and militant force contradicts the soft-expressioned and mild-mannered Princess Peach, who is seen seated at a tea party at the start of the game. Princess Peach is the female steward of her lands as well as the manifest form of Goddess as monarch. King Koopa uses war to expand his boundaries; this violence is theft of the power that comes from a proper relationship with the spirits and with the soil, and it chains the self-born sovereignty of the Goddess. With military aggression, Koopa seizes and exploits natural resources along with their production capacity. To restore divine feminine sovereignty as it manifests in the female monarch Princess Peach, and to end exploitation of feminine divine energy as it manifests in nature, the ordinary plumber Mario rises up as agent of the Goddess. Mario takes the hero’s journey to avenge the disrespect against sacred female energy. He fights against the aggression of Koopa’s military industrialization complex. He ventures through the world to stop the invasion, usurpation, and exploitation of the Goddess as she is expressed in nature’s resources. He lays waste to enemies across the lands, battling bosses so as to end their reign. At his journey’s end, he comes to the castle to stop the siege and to rescue Princess Peach. Before the main exploration of this world, let us briefly note two extraordinary characters. Of the heroes in this tale, a new female playable-character, Toadette, has been added. Toadette receives a special power-up called a “Super Crown” which allows her to transform into Peachette. With it, teen-aged Toadette ages to maturity, and her tunic-garb changes into a royal-pink ball gown that allows her to float. Little Toadette transforms into a tall and fully-grown sky princess, who floats on the wind – a most imaginative character, even for a fantasy adventure story. Her feminine divinity is seen in the simplicity of the unique gifts she receives and in the unique actions she can take. These denote her sacred status. Her transformative aspect takes place with a dress; its spiritual potential remains and is seen especially in her ability to soar and float in the wind. Of the antagonists in the story, I want to briefly discuss King Koopa’s daughter, Wendy. From the lands that he annexed whilst laying siege to Princess Peach’s kingdom, King Koopa gave each of his children a region of their own to rule. Wendy Koopa received the most beautiful of the lands. Her world alone holds the starry twilit sky. Her lands have the glaciers and pine forests that stretch to the far snows and ice fields. Hers are moonless evenings that showcase the aurora borealis. Her airship has golden bangles adorning its cannons. In battle, she skates and dances on ice while wearing beautiful ornaments. I note that while Wendy plays the role of antagonist invasionist-colonizer, she is held in more beauteous regard as her aspect also holds the sacred feminine. The advocate and agent of the Goddess is Mario, who, in rising to fulfill the goal which is Goddess, in journeying to reach her, and in saving the world and rescuing Princess Peach, he is more than ordinary, but “Super.” Super Mario is the hero who ventures to fight off invaders who seek to control Goddess energy as it manifests as natural recourses, as well as it manifests in the monarch and her people. Mario exemplifies action taken to center the Goddess in an individual life. He does so by serving Her. In taking up the fight, he saves the spiritual path, the lands and the soil; by saving the path, he becomes its protector. The path leads to Goddess. The feminine divine is expressed as the path. Visually, the roads lead region through region, finally to the besieged castle of Princess Peach. There are eight worlds with eight Koopalings to repel before Mario reaches Princess Peach’s castle, just as there are eight spears expressed in the lotus of the chakra Muladhara, where is said to be the house of Kundalini. Mario ventures through the eight worlds. Below are their descriptions. I shall assay to express how the Koopa-colonizers attempt to control the appearance of Goddess as resource, and how these resource-manifestations are named in a long history of Goddess- centered spirituality. The “naming” and the “names” of Goddess as a force of nature are a critical aspect of understanding how the Koopas attempt to control Goddess herself. World I: Acorn Plains, administered by Lemmy Koopa. The acorns here are spiritual seeds, controlling potential action and energy. The youngest of the Koopalings controls this first region. The seeds of future possibilities are also made manifest in the potential of the seed to grow further. Bijarupa is the name of …
(Essay) Being is the Language of the Goddess by Carolyn Lee Boyd

For almost 40 years, my feminist activism has been accomplished primarily through writing in the English language, until the day I learned that I was even more fluent in the Goddess language of being. During a drumming practice not long ago I was thinking about something my teacher had said — “All musical instruments come from drums” — and I thought, “When I play my drum, I speak the oldest of languages, the heartbeat of our mother in the womb,” a language that all share. But this language was older than that, beginning with the Big Bang and continuing in the waves that make up the reality of our universe, the masterpiece of She Who Creates. This was a language I profoundly knew but never thought of as a language till that moment. It is the language of being simply who we are, in all our sacred glory, in the most elemental way beginning with the most basic rhythm of our lives. The next day I was walking in the woods and heard a racket, frogs in a pond all warbling at once, then all silent, then all warbling again. Down the trail was a tree full of birds all chirping as they flew from branch to branch in a kind of syncopated rhythm. I suddenly thought of them as speaking to each other in their own language — “Let’s make some babies!” “There’s a human down there!” — but also to me in a language we both understood that came from our instincts to come alive in the season’s warmth and the return of abundance and life — “It’s spring! Time for renewal!” When I wandered down to my garden to see what plants were beginning to pop through the soil, the violet flowers of the periwinkle — that had come and gone on the same hillside for decades since, most likely, before my own childhood — spoke of the constancy of nature even as I move from youth to middle age to elderhood. Bloodroot has a red sap that is poisonous, but is traditionally used as a crimson dye, and small, simple, white flowers that have always reminded me that the new life of spring comes from blood and the hard work of giving birth, whether to baby beings, art works, relationships or anything else. The first leaves of the healing herbs in my garden assure me of the benevolence of the universe. All of these messages came from the plants’ expression of their gift of themselves, whether their beauty, their sap and simplicity of their flowers, or their healing properties. These beings, through their effect on me and other beings who encounter them, have an impact on the world just by expressing who they most essentially are. Do humans do the same? I began to think of my ancestors, especially my female ancestors, and wonder, what did they tell me through the language of their lives? Each of them, in her own way and within the constraints of her time and place, expresses to me that life is to be lived as an adventure on my own terms. My grandmother went to college at age 40 with small children at home at a time when women simply did not do that. My mother learned to fly an airplane in midlife because she wanted to see the world from heaven’s viewpoint. As I sat by my mother’s bedside as she died, and we looked into each other’s eyes, she traced a tear down her cheek with her finger and I knew that she was saying that she would miss being on this plane with me, but that love is eternal. All these actions that came deeply from the heart transformed me more than only words ever could. As I considered, I realized that the revolutions that shake the world come not just from what we say, but our expressions in deed that show the effects on ourselves of the changes we are making in the world. On my 25th birthday, I heard Merlin Stone speak about her experience writing “When God Was a Woman” and for the first time I understood that Divinity could look, and for most of human history had looked, like me, a woman. A few months later I witnessed Diane Wolkstein performing “Inanna” at the Museum of Natural History in New York City and I knew that the stories of Goddess had meaning for my own life and that I could center my spirituality around Her. Their words were important, but more essential to my new life-changing understanding was who Merlin and Diane were as women — Merlin’s passion and sureness that she was a messenger for the Goddess who was ready to re-emerge in the world and Diane’s willingness to move Goddess through her body and voice to speak again to the women of the world. Their language of being was what remade me by showing me that Goddess is alive and that I am part of Her just as they were. In the decades since then I have known many women who have changed the world, sometimes one person at a time, sometimes in ways that have moved society as a whole forward. In each case, it is not what they said or wrote alone, but rather who they were and how they affected those who came into contact with them that was their most effective activism. What will my true Goddess activism be? Will my life echo what I have comprehended Goddess saying to me — “Be free!”, “Know that you are loved always for who you are,” “Respect all beings, the Earth, and the universe,” “Understand in the deepest womb of your soul that you are sacred and deserving of happiness, joy, and peace”? How will I “be” to convey these things so that others see the Goddess within themselves who do not now? Now I know that every moment is precious and not to be wasted. Everything I …
(She Summons Excerpt) The Seed Who Summons (Part 2) by Claire Dorey

Were Snake 2 by Claire Dorey “Under the new rules set out by patriarchy, rape was seen as a good thing, so the spirit of the Sacred Feminine receded underground. Her only defence, as she retreated, was Medusa, with her halo – a writhing mass of my venomous sisters, turning men to stone. The Goddesses sought refuge in their antediluvian caves and subterranean temples, retreating back to their womb tombs and into the fissures and primordial streams, dormant but not defeated.” “The Earth was thrown out of balance as patriarchy marshalled and took revenge against the matriarch. Meanwhile your sisters, who were left above ground, were forced to veil their beautiful faces, live in shame, or endure a schizophrenic existence as appendage to man. You became demons with menstrual cycles. Unclean. Your life giving power was trivialised. Your herbal knowledge was incinerated by fire and iron, in the battle for medicinal supremacy, as Animist wisdom and Shamanic knowing were crushed by patriarchal alchemy, that saw healing plants replaced with toxins such as mercury. As mining, to extract metals and chemicals, escalated to an industrial and unsustainable scale, children were exploited for labour and Mother Earth shook and rumbled. They blew up your caves and pretended it was by accident. They desecrated your temples, chiselled the faces off your Goddesses, rewrote your history and stole your creation myths.” “The patriarch wrenched all the power away from Mother Earth and her Goddesses and put one single male god, sitting in judgement, in the sky. Hierarchy was established. Yet amidst all this turmoil the seed of the Divine Feminine remained underground, gathering strength.” I watch, mesmerised, as Sophia spirals her ophidian tail around a plump, red cherry, plucking at the stalk. She offers it to me and I can’t help feeling this symbolic picking represents the ‘forbidden’ fruit from the Tree Of Knowledge. “I want to know your story, the story of the Goddess,” I murmur, biting into succulent flesh. “All you have to do is dig in the right place,” she answers. “Plunge your hands into the soil, deep into Mother Earth and dig up your ancestral mothers – there’s thousands of them. They take the form of seeds, primordial knowing and deities – voluptuous, corpulent, nourishing, self regenerating and soporific deities. Always remember, She – the Goddess – is the progenitrix, the ultimate creator. Her history is buried beneath mosques and churches, hidden within legend, in rock art, in language, embedded in the walls of ancient civilisations. “Women should realign with nature and rekindle their connection with the tides, to gather strength. “Ritual, mantra, the moonlight, pulsating dance, music, drumming, trance and kindness will become your powerful tools, once more. The Sacred Goddess is the cosmos, the Earth, all animals, the air we breathe. She is all elements, the things we say, the energy of thought. She doesn’t need to conquer mountains, stick flags in the ground to gain approval – She is the mountain… and Everest isn’t called Everest, She is called Chomolangma – the Goddess Mother!” “So what of the snake?” I ask. “Where did your pre-historic, silken, muscular, serpent wisdom go? Was it lost when Medusa was savagely beheaded? Did it happen when Eve was demonised and cast out of Eden? Or was it lost when Eve’s Wisdom Serpent was so brutally dislimbed?” “There’s that wonderful word: chthonic inhabiting the underworld,” replies Sophia. “Just like Pythia, who sat on her tripod over a fissure in the Earth, to tap into Earth Mother wisdom, we serpents are conduits to the wisdom of the underworld – we connect with the ancestors – call us sinewy, python-esque umbilical cords, stretching right into the heart of the Earth. Just like the Goddess and her cycles of birth, death and rebirth, we snakes regenerate. We shed our skins and each time we transform there are new possibilities. As the seed of the Goddess goes through its healing 4,000 year cycle, deep underground, our Grandmother Serpent is incubating Her agamogenesistic egg.” “Agamogenesistic?” I quiz, raising one eyebrow. “You know what I mean!” snaps Sophia, “self fertilising…..no need for sperm!” “Ooo do you think that is why patriarchy invented snake envy?” I tease. “Sssssnake envy is one of the most ridiculous concoctions of modern psychology,” Sophia hisses. “Women never, ever had snake envy. Men did!” “On a more serious note, men are not the issue; it’s the patriarchal mindset and its wanton destruction of Mother Earth that is causing all our problems. Blame is not the solution, however, when tens of thousands of people are displaced, turned into refugees, as this pandemic rages and millions of children are protesting crimes against the biosphere, with banners that read, ‘’YOU’RE GONNA KILL US,” we know we have a big problem!” “Here’s a thought,” adds Sophia, spiraling down the tree trunk, skin flashing like a nacreous mosaic. “Did you ever think that one of the amazing things about the energetic shift, that has already been set in motion, is that it could give rise to the Divine Masculine?” “WOAH!” I’m stunned into silence – quite blown away. I’d been so wrapped up in thoughts of the Divine Feminine I had completely overlooked the possibility there could be a Divine Masculine. “By Divine Masculine I don’t mean a repeat of the Old and New Biblical millennia. This will be something quite different.” “You mean like men who weep when trees are cut down.” I say. “Weeeell, yeeees and noooo,” fizzes Sophia, shedding her skin, sloughing it on the bark with each rotation, as she zigzags down the cherry tree. As her skin detaches she is growing in size and stature. “As the Earth falls victim to man made chaos, waste, poison and mass extinctions, as he encroaches into sacred territories, battling with indigenous peoples – Earth protectors – people who have always lived in harmony with their environment – zoonotic diseases will be liberated.” “Humanity needs to learn that money will be of no use when the last …

(Special Post) BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE FOR EL PASO ARTIST MARIO COLÍN by Donna Snyder

Born in Juárez in 1959, Mario Colín lived his entire life in the Five Points area of Central El Paso, where he attended Houston Elementary and Austin High School. From the age of fifteen, he worked as a construction worker, building silos and other large construction projects across the U.S.A., at some point hitch hiking from the Pacific coast to the Atlantic shores. In his late twenties, he began to focus all his attention and energy on art, which had been an interest since early childhood, working as a muralist and portrait painter. Much of his art is of a religious nature, although he also painted secular art, portraits, and historical scenes. Colín painted his first mural of the Virgin of Guadalupe in collaboration with deceased artist Chuck Zavala in 1987 at Esparza’s Grocery, a small store in Central El Paso. It has now become a shrine, with community members building a stone arch and bringing flowers and candles, and has been pronounced a religious site by the parish church. Since that first mural, Colín has painted over 40 pieces of public art, many of which have become landmarks. Many of those murals are in that same Central El Paso neighborhood, on or near Piedras, including the House of Pizza, Los Alamos Grocery, The Elbo Room bar, the former Sanitary Plumbing at Piedras and Fort Boulevard. Colín twice painted a 25 foot mural of the Virgin of Guadalupe, at Alameda and Zaragoza, across from the Ysleta mission. The first version, painted in 1997, became decayed, but was a popular landmark. That mural has appeared in periodicals, art books, calendars, many newspaper articles, and in photographs exhibited in the El Paso Art Museum and galleries. In 2004, Señor José Villalobos donated and members of the community contributed money to pay laborers to replaster the wall of the century-old adobe building where it is located, and Colín repainted the entire mural for donations from passers-by and community members. Colín’s work has also been featured on the International History Channel and Canal 44, XHUI TV, in a Ford television commercial, and numerous times in the El Paso Times and the defunct El Paso Herald-Post, as well as in periodicals such as Texas Monthly, Dallas Morning News, Texas Observer, Austin American Statesman, Stanton Street magazine; literary journals such as Mezcla and GypsyMag.com; in documentaries including Walls that Speak: El Paso’s Murals, directed by Jim Klaes; in art books such as Colors on Desert Walls: The Murals of El Paso and Texas 24:7, and in various editions of Chicano Studies: Survey and Analysis, a text book used throughout the country.
(Special Post 3) Why Goddess Feminism, Activism, or Spirituality? A Collective Writing

[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. 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.] Helen Hwang I study and advocate Goddess feminism or Magoism because it is a way of living for me. I find myself in Mago (the Great Goddess) who in turn leads me to the Way wherein I learn how to become the person who I can be. It has to be Mago, the Female Divine, because She is real! She is the Primordial Mother who is the Beginning and the End of everything to us on the planet Earth. She teaches me the real. I can’t negotiate Her to anything less. Helen Hye Sook Hwang, Ph.D. California http://magoism.net Bridget Robertson A Goddessian I was introduced to a form of meditative journeying by a resident in my grandmother’s retirement community. She approached to me. I know she was at least part Native American, and that alone made her the topic of much gossip in the building. Her Rose colored lipstick, deep brown eyes, wrinkles that only helped illuminate her face and a chiffon scarf that matched none of her clothes. I thought she needed help with her groceries. She didn’t. She had me stop the elevator. and directly asked about my looking tired. My response was about being, busy balancing all the areas of my life. In fact I was exhausted doling out time like pieces of pie.
(Special Post 4) Nine-Headed Dragon Slain by Patriarchal Heroes: A Cross-cultural Discussion by Mago Circle Members

[Editor’s Note: This and the ensuing eight sequels (all nine parts) are a revised version of the discussion that has taken place in The Mago Circle, Facebook group, since September 24, 2017 to the present. Themes are introduced and interwoven in a somewhat random manner, as different discussants lead the discussion. The topic of the number nine is key to Magoism, primarily manifested as Nine Magos or the Nine Mago Creatrix. Mago Academy hosts a virtual and actual event, Nine Day Mago Celebration, annually.] Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: Here is how Goma is known among the ancient Chinese. She is called The Mysterious Woman of the Nine Heavens (Jiutian xuannu). Nine Heavens refer to the confederacy of nine states, Danguk or Nine Hans. Statue of Jiutian Xuannü, Wikimedia Commons https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jiutian_Xuann%C3%BC Another icon of Jiutian Xuannu below. https://www.tinyatdragon.com/blogs/spiritual/jiu-tian-xuan-nu-mysterious-lady-of-the-nine-heavens?fbclid=IwAR0n1Ld6tmxqTec23Pzg3DxRjEQ-DbjdGF1DU_Jjlt4eMbHdTOO9Jd7ePnc Lizzy Bluebell: Oh – now I see what the Buddha riding the deer was carrying; her Gourd. A very interesting link, thanks.”…these statues in Taoism are not for worshipping or praying. They are like a container, a magic tool, which is used to program the energies into profiles and be used for different things in Taoist magic. The outsiders cannot understand too much, and so these “Taoist secrets” are often hidden from the public in the old days or even today.” Lizzy Bluebell: Very informative passage on the power of the NINE:”Nine is the pattern of giving off power, or using up the energies of things to give off powers, just like a flashlight burning it’s battery up for the light. Sky is the pattern that relates to any pool of resources or elements that are considered the proactive party that is “starting” something or the giving side of a situation.Remember that we talk about patterns in Taoism, and it applies to everything including our FU talismans words and these special terms like Jiu Tian / Gau Tin.A practical example for this term can be used as in if you are trying to go to the kitchen and cook something for lunch. Your “sky” here is all the things in the kitchen, and ground is the kitchen itself where you put the food into “process” them. So the 9-sky stage is to have picked out the food you like and let them show themselves to let you know which one is the best to use, maybe some just smell better or some look fresher to you. Nothing has been done yet, but you are now able to “start” something because you can at least feel and sense the food’s potentials and power.” Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: Lizzy Bluebell, Oh it is gourd. Yes, I forgot about the gourd symbol for Mago/Magu. It is a container for the elixir from which one drinks. It is a common pictographic/literary theme and I have images of Magu with the gourd. Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: Lizzy Bluebell, this is one heuristic analogy. Ancient Magoists depicted/perceived the universe as Nine Heavens, an equivalent to Nine States on earth for it is the lens of Nine Numerology through which they saw everything. Because ancient China removed the history of Goma, they spiritualized/philosophized the teaching of Nine Numerology. If we have Goma’s history (and the mytho-history of Old Magoism), we can perceive the meaning of Nine Heavenly directly (not through theories or analogies). Wherever and whenever the consciousness of Nine Numerology surfaces is a manifestation of Goma’s rule/civilization/religion. This will remain forever insofar as humanity continues because Nine Numerology is the principle of nature including humans. I would say that the teaching/principle of Nine Numerology is Goma’s self-redemptive soteriological gift. Insofar as we understand and honor the Nine Mago Creatrix/Nine Numerology (the female divine in general), we are endowed with the power of self-redemption. Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: Lizzy Bluebell, the character “Xuan or Hyeon 玄” refers to the quality of gynocentric spirituality, which has been made esoteric or mystic. It refers to the spirituality of the Great Goddess (Magoist spirituality). Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: Nine Hans or Nine Heavens manifests in such place-names as Kyūkoku (九国, Nine States). Kyushu (Nine Provinces) Island, Japan, seemingly a replica of Danguk (confederacy of nine states) representing the Nine Mago Creatrix, reflects the ancient glory of the Goma’s gynocentric rule. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kyushu Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: Doumu (Mother of the Northern Dipper) also comes in the icon of eight arms. Doumu, Song Dynasty, Wikimedia Commons Domu, Wikimedia Commons https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doumu Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: She is often conflated with Marici seated on a boar in her iconography (affine to Gemu of the Mosuo and Durga on a tiger/lion). Here Marici is depicted as four-headed and eight-armed. Marici, Wikimedia Commons Marici (Buddhism) – Wikipedia Judy E Foster: So similar to the Indian Goddess… Helen Hye-Sook Hwang Indeed! I am afraid that we may not be able to feature some of the nine forms of Durga from “Hinduism”. Helen Hye-Sook Hwang There is more, Marici. Marici, Wikimedia Commons File:Marichi, Buddhist Goddess of Dawn, China, Qing dynasty, 18th… Marichi, Source below. Marichi (Buddhist Deity) – Kalpoktam (3 faces, 8 hands)… Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: This is new info. on the nine tripod caldrons of ancient China. “The Nine Tripod Cauldrons (Chinese: 九鼎; pinyin: Jiǔ Dǐng) were ancient Chinese ritual cauldrons. They were ascribed to the foundation of the Xia (c. 2200 bce) by Yu the Great, using tribute metal presented by the governors of the Nine Provinces of ancient China.[1] At the time of the Shang Dynasty during the 2nd millennium bce, the tripod cauldrons came to symbolize the power and authority of the ruling dynasty with strict regulations imposed as to their use. Members of the scholarly gentry class were permitted to use one or three cauldrons; the ministers of state (大夫, dàfū) five; the vassal lords seven; and only the sovereign Son of Heaven was entitled to use nine.[2] The use of the nine tripod cauldrons to offer ritual sacrifices to the ancestors from heaven and earth was a major ceremonial occasion so that by natural progression the ding came to symbolize national political power[3] and later to be regarded as a National Treasure. Sources state that two years after the […]

(Poetry & Photo Essay) Pongal by Susan Hawthorne

I am a secularist rather than a ritualist, but I can’t help but be drawn into the celebrations that people make when they honour the passing of the seasons. Even as a child I felt the disconnect between Christmas and the hot dusty days of summer. When Christians invaded and colonised Australia they brought their holidays but did not consider changing the dates to match the seasons. I was in India recently, invited as a speaker at the Hindu Lit For Life Festival in Chennai where I had lived ten years ago. The last day of the festival was the first day of Pongal. A friend, feminist economist Devaki Jain, who had grown up in Chennai eighty years earlier invited me to join her in a car ride to see Pongal celebrations in the streets. This is a Tamil festival dating back at least a thousand years, a sun festival, welcoming the next six months of the sun’s journey, also a harvest festival. During this time many women produce beautiful drawings, known as kolam. In my book Cow I wrote a poem about kolam which I think says more than I can explain here. what she says about kolam where they are drawn and when is all important early morning is auspicious it sets the shape of the day the hard ground is cleaned points of white grain sprinkled she works quickly she knows her design for the day runs the powdered grain from point to point it is a mandala a yantra a sign so the forces of the universe align themselves with her intentions Back to Pongal. The festival goes for four days. On the first day, which is called Bhogi, people are on the streets with the fruits of harvest, piles of tumeric and stacks of sugar cane tied in bunches. My friend, Devaki, bought flowers to take back to her room in the hotel. The second day, called Thai Pongal, I was invited to a harvest lunch at the house of my friend Mangai who is a playwright, theatre director and human rights activist. The word ‘pongal’ means ‘boiling over’ or’ overflow’ and I saw this in the cooking of the sweetened rice dish into which each of the twelve people present poured some water and milk as it almost overflowed the pot. This sweet rice dish was added to the collection of other dishes on the table. I cannot tell you what they were, but the meal was delicious. After lunch everyone relaxed, someone sang, we talked and caught up on news. The third day, is called Maatu Pongal, and cattle are at the centre of celebrations on that day. I don’t know if this line up of cattle had anything to do with the day’s celebration but there they were tied up alongside a very busy main road. These were not cows and I did not see any cows with decorated horns and flowers on their heads. on that day as I have on other occasions. On the fourth day, Kaanum Pongal, things begin to wind down. One of my co-speakers at the festival said she would be visiting family members on that day. The kolams are drawn again, sugar cane is consumed and people go back to their daily lives. What I liked about being in Tamil Nadu during the Pongal festival is that it felt absolutely right. The time of the year, the connection with harvest, so I did not feel the discomfort I so often feel in the midst of the out-of-season commercialised holidays as they are celebrated in Australia. Susan Hawthorne’s book Cow is available worldwide from distributors in USA, Canada, UK, from all the usual online retailers or from Spinifex Press. http://www.spinifexpress.com.au/Bookstore/book/id=215/ © Susan Hawthorne, 2019 (Meet Mago Contributor) Susan Hawthorne.
Summer Solstice Poiesis by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

Seasonal Wheel of Stones Both Summer and Winter Solstices may be understood as particular celebrations of the Mother/Creator aspect of the Creative Triplicity of the Cosmos (often named as the Triple Goddess). The Solstices are Gateways between the dark and the light parts of the annual cycle of our orbit around Sun; they are both sacred interchanges, celebrating deep relationship, communion, with the peaking of fullness of either dark or light, and the turning into the other. The story is that the Young One/Virgin aspect of Spring has matured and now at Summer Solstice her face changes into the Mother of Summer. Summer Solstice may be understood as a birthing place, as Winter Solstice may also be, but at this time the transiton is from light back into dark, returning to larger self, from whence we come: it is the full opening, the “Great Om”, the Omega. I represent the Summer Solstice on my altar wheel of stones with the Omega-yonic shape of the horseshoe. I take this inspiration from Barbara Walker’s description of the horseshoe in her Woman’s Encyclopaedia of Myths and Secrets, as “Goddess’s symbol of ‘Great Gate’[i]”; and her later connection of it with the Sheil-na-gig yoni display[ii]. Sri Yantra. Ref: A.T. Mann & Jane Lyle, p.75 Summer Solstice is traditonally understood as a celebration of Union between Lover and Beloved, and the deep meaning of that is essentially a Re-Union: of sensed manifest form (the Lover) with All-That-Is (the Beloved). This may be understood as a fullness of expression of this manifest form, the small selves that we are, being all that we may be, and giving of this fullness of being in every moment: that would be a blissful thing, like a Summerland as it was understood to be. The boundaries of the self are broken, they merge: all is given away – all is poured forth, the deep rich dark stream of life flows out. It is a Radiance, the shining forth of the self which is at the same time a give-away, a consuming of the self.In traditional PaGaian Summer ceremony each participant is affirmed as “Gift”[iii]; and that is understood to mean that we are both given and received – all at the same time. The breath is given and life is received. We receive the Gift with each breath in, and we are the Gift with each breath out. As we fulfill our purpose, as we give ourselves over, we dissolve, as the Sun is actually doing in every moment. The “moment of grace”[iv]that is Summer Solstice, marks the stillpoint in the height of Summer, when light reaches its peak, and Earth’s tilt causes the Sun to begin its “decline”: that is, its movement back to the South in the Northern Hemisphere (in June), and back to the North in the Southern Hemisphere (in December). Whereas at Winter Solstice when out of the darkness it is light that is “born”, as it may be expressed: at the peak of Summer, in the warmth of expansion, it is the dark that is “born”. Insofar as Winter Solstice is about birth, then Summer Solstice is about death, the passing into the harvest. It is a celebration of profound mystical significance, which may be confronting in a culture where the dark is not valued for its creative telios; and it is noteworthy that Summer Solstice has not gained any popularity of the kind that Winter Solstice has globally (as ‘Christmas’). The re-union with All-That-Is is not generally considered a jolly affair, though when understood it may actually be blissful. Full Flowers to the Flames Summer is a time when many grains ripen, deciduous trees peak in their greenery, lots of bugs and creatures are bursting with business and creativity: yet in that ripening, is the turning, the fulfilment of creativity, and it is given away. Like the Sun and the wheat and the fruit, we find the purpose of our Creativity in the releasing of it; just as our breath must be released for its purpose of life. The symbolism used to express this in ceremony has been the giving of a full rose/flower to the flames. Summer is like the rose, as it says in this tradition[v]– blossom and thorn … beautiful, fragrant, full – yet it comes with thorns that open the skin. All is given over. All is given over: the feast is for enjoying With the daily giving of ourselves in our everyday acts, we each feed the world with our lives: we do participate in creating the cosmos, as many indigenous traditions still recognise. Just as our everyday lives are built on the fabric of the work/creativity of all who went before us, so the future, as well as the present, is built on ours, no matter how humble we may think our contribution is. We may celebrate the blossoming of our creativity then, which is Creativity, and the bliss of that blossoming, at a time when Earth and Sun are pouring forth their abundance, giving it away. In this Earth-based cosmology, what is given is the self fully realized and celebrated, not a self that is abnegated – just as the fruit gives its full self: as Starhawk says, “Oneness is attained not through losing the self, but through realizing it fully”[vi]. Everyday tasks can be joyful, if valued, and graciously received: I think of Eastern European women singing as they work in the fields – it is a common practice still for many. We are the Bread of Life Summer Solstice celebrates Mother Sun coming to fullness in Her creative engagement with Earth, and we are the Sun. Solstice Moment is a celebration of communion, the feast of life – which is for the enjoying, not for the holding onto. We do desire to be received, to be consumed – it is our joy and our grief. Brian Swimme says: “Every moment of our lives disappears into the ongoing story of the Universe. Our creativity is energising the whole[vii]”. As it may be ceremoniously affirmed: we are (each is) …
Beltaine/High Spring within the Creative Cosmos by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an edited excerpt from Chapter 8 of the author’s new book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. Traditionally the dates for Beltaine/High Spring are: Southern Hemisphere – October 31st or 1st November Northern Hemisphere – April 30th (May Eve) or 1st May though the actual astronomical date varies. It is the meridian point or cross-quarter day between Spring Equinox and Summer Solstice, thus actually a little later in early November for S.H., and early May for N.H., respectively. The twin fires lit in older times on hilltops in Ireland for Beltaine likely represented the two eyes of night and day.[i] With this vision, Goddess as Sun and Moon sees Her Land, and with the power of Her eyes (Sun and Moon) brings forth life and beauty. With the fire eyes, Goddess“reoccupied and saw her whole land…”[ii] The twin fires later came to be used to run cattle between as they headed out to Summer pasture, for the purpose of burning off the bugs and ticks of Winter; the fires may thus be understood to serve a cleansing effect and likely the origins of the tradition of the ceremonial leaping of flames by participants in Beltaine festivities. In PaGaian Cosmology this is poetically expressed as the Flame of Love that burns away the psyche’s “bugs and ticks,” and sees the Beauty present, and calls it forth. The Beltaine flames may be a celebration of Sun entering into the eye, into the whole bodymind: a powerful creative evocation upon which the Dance of Life depends, and as the cleansing power of love and pleasure. PaGaian focus for Beltaine is on the Holy Desire/Passion for life, and it may be accounted for on as many levels as possible … the complete holarchy/dimensions of the erotic power. On an elemental level, there is our desire for Air, Water, the warmth of Fire, and to be of use/service to Earth. There is an essential longing, sometimes nameless, sometimes constellated, experienced physically, that may be recognized as the Desire of the Universe Herself – desiring in us.[iii] We may remember that we are united in this desire with each other, with all who have gone before us, and with all who come after us – all who dance the Dance of Life. Beltaine is a time for dancing and weaving into our lives, our heart’s desires; traditionally the dance is done with participants holding ribbons attached to a pole or tree (a Maypole in the Northern Hemisphere, which may be renamed as a “Novapole” in the Southern Hemisphere), wrapping the pole with the ribbons. This is not simply the heterosexual metaphor as is thought in modern times (thanks largely to Freudian thinking) – it is deeper than that. As Caitlin and John Matthews point out: it is symbolic of a far greater exchange than that between men and women – in fact between the elements themselves. … the maypole, a comparatively recent manifestation in the history of mystery celebrations, can be seen as the linking of heaven and earth, binding those who dance around it … into a pattern of birth, life and death which lay at the heart of the maze of earth mysteries.[iv] Beltaine is a celebration of Desire on all levels – microcosm and on the macrocosm, the exoteric and the esoteric.[v] It brought you forth physically, and it brings forth all that you produce in your life, and it keeps the Cosmos spinning. It is felt in you as Desire, it urges you on. It is the deep awesome dynamic that pervades the Cosmos and brings forth all things – babies, meals, gardens, careers, books and solar systems. We have often been taught, certainly by religious traditions, to pay it as little attention as possible; whereas it should be the cause of much more meditation/attention, tracing it to its deepest place in us. What are our deepest desires beneath our surface desires. What if we enter more deeply into this feeling, this power? It may be a place where the Universe is a deep reciprocity – a receiving and giving that is One. Brian Swimme says, in a whole chapter on “Allurement”: You can examine your own self and your own life with this question: Do I desire to have this pleasure? Or rather, do I desire to become pleasure? The demand to ‘have,’ to possess, always reveals an element of immaturity. To keep, to hold, to control, to own; all of this is fundamentally a delusion, for our own truest desire is to be and to live. We have ripened and matured when we realize that our own deepest desire in erotic attractions is to become pleasure … to enter ecstatically into pleasure so that giving and receiving pleasure become one simple activity. Our most mature hope is to become pleasure’s source and pleasure’s home simultaneously. So it is with the allurements of life: we become beauty to ignite the beauty of others.[vi] Beltaine is a good time to contemplate this animal bodymind that you are: how it seeks real pleasure. What is your real pleasure? Be gracious with this bodymind and in awe of this form, this wonder. Beltaine is also a good time to contemplate light, and its affects on our bodyminds as it enters into us; how our animal bodyminds respond directly to the Sun’s light, which apparently may awaken physical desires. Light vibrates into us – different wavelengths as different colours – and shifts to pulse. It is felt most fully in Springtime (“spring fever”), as light courses down a direct neural line from retina to pineal gland. When the pineal gland receives the light pulse it releases “a cascade of hormones, drenching the body in hunger, thirst, or great desire.”[vii] We respond directly to Sun as an organism: it is primal. NOTES: [i] Michael Dames, Ireland, 195-199. [ii] Ibid., 196. [iii] I have been inspired and informed by Swimme’s articulations about desire, particularly in Canticle to the Cosmos, video 2 “The Primeval Fireball,” video 5 “Destruction and Loss,” and video 10 “The Timing of Creativity.” [iv] Matthews, The Western Way, 54. And for more, see “Creativity …
Samhain: Stepping Wisely through the Open Door by Carolyn Lee Boyd

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

A bird for this season is the Kingfisher, also known as the Halcyon. The Kingfisher is associated in Greek myth with the Winter Solstice. There were fourteen “halcyon days” in every year, seven of which fell before the winter solstice, seven after; peaceful days when the sea was smooth as a pond and the hen-halcyon built a floating nest and hatched out her young. She also had another habit, that of carrying her dead mate on her back over the sea and mourning him with a plaintive cry. Pliny reported that the halcyon was rarely seen and then only at the winter and summer solstices and at the setting of the Pleiades. She was therefore, a manifestation of the Moon-Goddess who was worshiped at the two solstices as the Goddess of Life in Death and Death in Life and, when the Pleiades set, she sent the sacred king his summons for death. Kingfishers are typically stocky, short-legged birds with large heads and large, heron-like beaks. They feed primarily on fish, hovering over the water or watching intently from perches and they plunge headlong into the water to catch their prey. Their name, Alcedinidae, stems from classical Greek mythology. Alcyone, Daughter of the Wind, was so distraught when her husband perished in a shipwreck that she threw herself into the sea. Both were then transformed into kingfishers and roamed the waves together. When they nested on the open sea, the winds remained calm and the weather balmy. Still another Alcyone, Queen of Sailing, was the mystical leader of the seven Pleiades. The heliacal rising of the Pleiades in May marked the beginning of the navigational year and their setting marked the end. Alcyone, as Sea Goddess protected sailors from rocks and rough weather. The bird, halcyon continued for centuries to be credited with the magical power of allaying storms. Shakespeare refers to this legend in this passage from Hamlet: Some say that ever ‘gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour’s birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long; And then, they say, no spirit can walk abroad; The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow’d and so gracious is the time. Hamlet, I, i 157 When I was a young mother, and my children were little, we lived in a house that had a creek in the back yard. There were small trees along the far bank of this creek and every day, a kingfisher would sit in the branches overlooking the creek. Sometimes he sat there very quietly for a very long time. Suddenly he would dive from his perch straight into the creek. Every time he did he came out and up into the air with a fish. It gave me great pleasure to watch him from my kitchen window. I love birds. I love learning about their habits because it teaches me ways of being that are closer to nature. I love drawing birds as well. When I was a young and more able, I was an avid bird watcher, out with my friends hoping for a sight never seen before. I love the story of the kingfisher and her connection to the Halcyon Days of the Winter Solstice. It is for most of us the busiest time of year. Whether it is for the Solstice or Christmas (often both) we are in a frenzy to get things done, making sure everything is just right and perfect. I celebrate the Winter Solstice. As a priestess, my days right now are very busy creating ritual. It is at the Solstice that many passage rites are happening with the women I work with. And of course, I celebrate with my family with our magical Yule Log each year. But I try to honor those seven days before and the seven days after by trying to have the frantic moments before the Halcyon Days begin and then even when busy, hold the peace and calm of that beautiful smooth sea in my mind. Peace and love and joy surrounding the Winter Solstice make it perfect. May the Peace of a Halcyon Sea be yours in this Solstice Season. Do hold the image of that little kingfisher in mind! Meet Mago Contributor, Deanne Quarrie
(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: …

(Tribute) In Loving Memory of Lydia Ruyle (1935-2016) by Mago Circle Members

We posthumously honor Lydia Ruyle (August 5, 1935-March 26, 2016) as Patron of Goddess Feminism, Activism, and Spirituality. Mago Circle Members on June 11, 2016. Glenys Livingstone I feel blessed to have known Lydia and to have been in occasional personal communication with her for several years … initially via the Goddess Scholars list. Lydia sent me great information of some of her journeys, was always encouraging and generously supported my CD crowdfunding project in 2015. I feel honoured to have carried her Goddess banners to Australia in 2014.
(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.
(Essay 3) Making the Gynocentric Case: Mago, the Great Goddess of East Asia, and Her Tradition Magoism by Helen Hwang

[Editor’s note: Numbers of endnotes differ from the original ones in the article] Claiming the Budoji (Epic of the Emblem City) as a Principal Text of Magoism The Budoji (Epic of the Emblem City) stands out from other sources for its systemic and refined mytho-historical account of Old Magoism. Alleged to have been written in between the late fourth and early fifth century of Silla Korea (57 BCE-918 CE), the Budoji is the Sillan testimony to the history of Budo (Emblem City), a replica of Mago’s Citadel. It is a book that summons ancient Koreans to remember the glorious history of their Magoist ancestors particularly Budo, better known as Dangun Choson Korea (2333 BEC-232 BEC). Budo’s construction and administration in East Asia for nearly two millennia are attributed to the leadership of Imgeom or Dangun. She is the third of the triad sovereigns of Old Magoism after Hanin and Hanung. Designating the civilization of Budo as a direct successor of its previous civilization Sinsi (Divine Market) attributed to the leadership of Hanung, the Budoji traces the Magoist pedigree of pre-patriarchal civilizations ultimately back to Mago and her paradisiacal community, Mago’s Citadel.[i] Composed of thirty-three chapters, its epical narrative is replete with unheard but resonant concepts and symbols such as cosmic music, triad, parthenogenesis, mountain paradisiacal community, genealogy, and so on. Among others, the Budoji unleashes one most fascinating cosmogonic account yet-to-be-known, the story of Mago’s beginning.[ii] Mago, emerged by the cosmic music alongside the stars in the primordial time, began her procreation. Then she initiates the natural process of self-creation. She had her offspring to procreate and asked them to administer the paradisiacal community in Mago’s Citadel. She is the cosmic being who listens to the rise and fall of the cosmic music. The primary task of Mago’s community was to produce Earthly musical resonance that corresponds with the music of the universe. The sonic balance between the universe and the Earth is absolutely essential to the survival and prosperity of the earthly community.[iii] The Budoji not only makes it possible to recognize a large corpus of transnational primary sources as coherent within the context of Magoism but also enables the researcher to understand erosion, variation, and mutation wrought on individual data in the course of history. Budoji’s mytho-historical framework is particularly crucial in assessing the large number of folkloric and topological data that are otherwise seen anomalous or corrupted. For example, the stories that Mago lived in a rock or Mago carried large boulders on her limbs and built megalithic structures find resonance in Budoji’s narratives. Its accounts concerning rocks and landmasses are too complex to present here. Some examples are: Mago began her act of creation by moving and dropping a heavenly landmass and into heavenly water; Magoist sovereigns became rocks that made resonating sounds upon death. In short, Magoism animates pre-Chinese history of East Asia otherwise labeled as “primitive societies.” It entertains the idea that animism and shamanism are not isolated practices but the older religious forms of Magoism.