August 26, 2015October 2, 2019 Mago Work Admin1 Comment

(Essay 2) Why Reenact the Nine-Mago Movement? by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

[Author’s Note: The sequel of this essay is released in preparation for 2015 Nine-Day Solstice Celebration Project.] Part 2 Goddess Goma, the Magoist Shaman Ruler, and Her Nona-Mago Tradition Read More …

June 26, 2013November 1, 2023 Mago Work Admin1 Comment

(Art) Seven Stars Deities by Lydia Ruyle

Chilseong-sin or Seven Stars Deities represent the Big Dipper/Great Bear constellation. It is believed that the seven stars shine brightest on Korea and protect the people from misfortunes. Chilseong-gut rituals performed by mudangs using reflections on water suggest indigenous origins. Chilseong control Read More …

(Art) Gateways by Liz Darling

“Some beliefs are like blinders, shutting off power to choose one’s own direction. Other beliefs are like gateways opening wide vistas for exploration.” Sophia Fahs Meet Mago Contributor, Liz Darling.
(Meet Mago Contributor) Alshaad Kara

Alshaad Kara is a Mauritian poet who writes from his heart. He won the 2023 “Zheng Nian Cup” Literary Award Third Prize. His latest poems were published in “The Social Rhyme”, “Spered Gouez”, “Caractère” and “Coin-Operated Press” and “Slamming Bricks Anthology 3rd Edition”.
(Prose) Rocks by Susan Hawthorne

I have been climbing rocks, photographing rocks and thinking about rocks for several decades. When I was about twenty, I went rock climbing with a philosopher. He said it gave you a good sense of the value of life. He was right, but for me the climbing was much harder than it was for anyone else that day, simply because I was shorter. Every move I made had to be creative because I could not reach the holds. I found my way up the vertical face and then came the petrifying part. To get around the hump at the edge I had to do a kind of pirouette: starting facing outwards, then turning to face the rock and a final outwards move at which point I reached a solid base. I overcame my fear and launched into the move. I have rarely been so scared. This all occurred at a place called Hanging Rock a few hours outside of Melbourne and the location of the film, Picnic at Hanging Rock. In my novel, Dark Matters, I write about rocks. Of all the sacred places, which has had the most effect on me? It’s usually associated with rocks. The rocks in the Flinders Ranges, the scented rock in the Temple of the Rock in East Jerusalem, the rock in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre down another road in Jerusalem, the rock at New Grange in Ireland or the standing stones of Lewis, the hypogeum on Malta, Maes Howe on the Orkneys, the rock at Kata Tjuta, the tears of Pele on Hawai’i, the baetyl stones of Sardinia, the rock on the southern shore of Crete near Agia Galini, and an almost identical rock near Mahabalipuram in southern India. So many rocks in so many places. What is it about rocks? And the body? Is it a kind of rock? Rock manifesto All that is solid is solid. We should know. We rocks. We have seen it all. From the first hurtlings through space to this relatively settled time when all that’s happening is just a bit of heat. We are the ground on which you stand. Your artworks were pecked and painted into our flesh well before anything else. We are a peaceful lot, but sometimes we have been dragged into the fray and hurled against the enemy. We are quiet. Come sit with us on a sunny day and feel the warmth we give off. We like to spread out on the ground, sunbake. But you’ll also find us there on days of icy wind with small plants sheltering in our soft parts, trees taking root and reaching for the sun. And when the rivers break their banks you can watch as some of us jump from bank to bank. In the old days, people had more quiet time, more time to listen. It was then we shared our secrets. If you look, you might find them. Make a journey to rocky places, you’ll find that we guard all the sacred sites whether it’s Kata Tjuta or Jerusalem, New Grange or Ankhor Wat. Put your hand on our surface, smell the scent we leave. Curl into our embrace. We don’t mind. We like to hold you, shelter you, even feed you. Come dance the slow time jig. (Meet Mago Contributor) Susan Hawthorne.
(Prose) Quintessential Connections by Luciana Percovich

Good Morning, Avalonian Sisters and Friends! Crones, Mothers, Daughters and Sons! This talk, my small contribution to this gorgeous conference, is dedicated to our Beloved Crone Sisters who have passed among our Ancestresses: Mary Daly, Merlin Stone, Marija Gimbutas and Lydia Ruyle. May they Be with us here and now And bless our tongues, ears and souls
(Art) Temperance (Cetaceans and the Cosmic Uterus) by Susan Abbott

Watercolor by Susan Abbott This was a study I did for the Temperance card of the Tarot deck. Lots going on in the cosmic uterus with the whale, the dolphin, the fetus, the night sky cosmos, the pouring of water on fire the steam that creates.(Meet Mago Contributor) Susan Abbott.
(Short Story) Women’s Magic by Kaalii Cargill

Older than the oldest story, a dream rode on the back of the wind, seeking a dreamer. Born in another land – in another time – the dream was in no hurry. It sought a dreamer who carried a particular mix of grief and longing, vulnerability and courage. Millennia passed. The dream travelled from the Old World to the New, carrying an echo of magic and mystery. # In a city in the New World, a modern city with skyscrapers and suburbs, parks and jogging tracks, a man lay sleeping. Jonathon Wiley, a self-declared agnostic, was not expecting dispensation or grace. Life had dealt with him harshly, and he took solace where he could. Sleep, he had found, was the greatest balm of all. The Moon rose over the rooftops of the city, and the dream floated gently down into Jonathon’s sleep. Jonathon stirred, throwing off the bedclothes. He called aloud for Sandra, and she disappeared around yet another corner . . . . . . He found himself walking in a long, winding tunnel. It was so cold his breath hovered in puffs of cloud, and his testes retracted into the warmth of his body. Someone was playing music sweet enough to charm wild beasts, coax tress and rocks to dance, stop the flow of rivers. Jonathon looked in wonder as a man appeared, playing a lyre. Behind him came a woman, dark and beautiful, achingly like his Sandra. The music faltered. The man turned, reaching for the woman. Jonathon watched in horror as the woman began to fade, like an old photograph too long in the light. She stretched her hands towards the man, but a stronger force pulled her away, back to the place between the worlds. With a cry, the man threw himself after her. The lyre sang a single, mournful note as it fell. Still caught in the dream, Jonathon wept. He cried for the man’s loss – and for his own – and for the music that had plucked at his heart with exquisite, unbearable longing. Most of all, he wept because the woman’s face had been Sandra’s, fine-boned like an angel’s. The dream faded, and Jonathon stirred uneasily in his sleep, arms searching for something. His hands closed on emptiness. A chant echoed across his garden. “Everything She touches changes. She changes everything She touches.” The chanting reached into the treetops, disturbing the leafy play of possums, interrupting the dreamless sleep of doves. “Everything She touches changes. She changes everything She touches.” Women’s voices, strong and clear, filled the night, stealing into the quiet, well-appointed houses on Jonathon’s street. Carried on the breeze, the chanting blew in through Jonathon’s window, pulling him all the way back from the in-between place where he was following Sandra’s long, black hair and gamine smile. He did not want to wake; awake, Sandra was dead. He opened his eyes. It was still dark, although moonlight played across his face like warm fingers. Jonathon stood and moved to the window, unsure whether the voices were coming from outside, or were an echo of his dream. There below, in the garden across the fence, black-robed figures walked slowly through the trees. Jonathon blinked and rubbed his eyes. The Moon shone full and bright on the black hoods covering the heads of the women below. Jonathon knew they were women because of their voices. He had no idea who they were, or who lived in the house nestled at the back of the huge garden next door. He used to be curious about neighbours and other things, but that had been when Sandra was there. With a heavy sigh, Jonathon thought that Sandra would probably have befriended whoever lived in the old house and been down there howling at the Moon, or whatever the women were doing in the garden. He opened the balcony door and stepped out into the night. Below him, the black-robed women entered a cleared space between the trees, forming a circle around a single candle in the centre. They faced outwards, towards the shadows of the trees. Jonathon shivered, a prickling on his skin as if her were being watched. He stepped back inside, and reached for a blanket; it suddenly seemed important to cover his nakedness. Below, the chanting stopped, leaving a resonance in the air. The night waited. Jonathon, compelled by something he couldn’t quite name, walked downstairs and out the back door. Heat pulsed through his body, and he felt a stirring of arousal, the first in a long time. His head spun as if he had been drinking red wine all night, but he hadn’t touched alcohol since . . . . . . “Slow down, Jon. It’s so wet!” Sandra’s voice was tight, a residue of their talk over dinner; a special dinner for their anniversary – expensive food, too much wine, and the inevitable conversation about children. “Do you want to drive?” asked Jonathon through clenched teeth. “I’m just asking you to be careful,” said Sandra in the reasonable way she spoke to toddlers, old people, and recalcitrant men. “I’m always careful,” said Jonathon, as the car ahead began to slide across the road. Jonathon braked. With a stomach-rolling lurch, their car skidded sideways, slipping and sliding on the wet road. Hands locked on the steering wheel, Jonathon tried to manage the skid. Just when he thought he had it under control, the car jumped sideways and snaked towards a light pole. Sandra screamed. Jonathon’s senses returned to a strange silence. For a moment he thought he was waking from a night of drinking and partying, but then he remembered. In the passenger seat, Sandra was very still. As always, the flashback left Jonathon sweating and shaking. He forced himself to breathe and to open his eyes. He found himself half-way across the back yard clad only in a blanket. “Bloody sleep walking now!” he muttered as he turned back towards the house. Then the chanting started again. “Everything …
(Prose & Photography) Stories the Stones Tell by Sara Wright

A couple of days ago I was climbing a mesa with my friend Iren who is “a guide to the wild places” – those places off the beaten track where stories are told by the stones and the Earth that supports them. As a severely directionally dyslexic person who cannot tell her left from right navigating this hidden world would be impossible without Iren’s deep knowledge of this land, her expertise, her extraordinary sensitivity and her love for Nature. No words can ever express my gratitude for this friendship without which I would feel bereft. As we climbed through mountains of human garbage and four wheeler tracks we discovered potsherds at our feet. Picking up the predominantly black and white pieces for inspection I found myself wondering about the women (and children) who gathered the clay, shaped it into pots, and fired the vessels to store food. There are so many untold women’s stories hidden in these clay fragments… Female scholarship (see Marija Gimbutas, Buffie Johnson, and more recently women scholars like Helen Hye Sook Hwang, Susan Hawthorne, and Carol Christ’s tireless research in women’s prehistory to mention just a few) reminds us that women have been fashioning clay vessels and sculptures for millennia. The imprint of women’s handprints can be seen on Neolithic goddess sculptures and pots throughout the world. Here in Abiquiu and the surrounding high desert I wonder what specific activities these peoples might have been engaged in. We found a plethora of the black and white fragmented clay pots (some with very thick rims) of Indigenous Anasazi peoples who preceded later Pueblo cultures. I am especially drawn to the black and white shards that seem to have faces or are tree -like; Iren loves the pieces that look like ladders. Occasionally I spot a potshard made from red or micacious clay, a relic from later Indigenous inhabitants of this area. I wondered if the women ground these ancient artifacts into temper to strengthen the newer clay they dug and shaped into vessels for firing. We studied the landscape around us for more clues to its original inhabitants. Iren spotted a petroglyph pecked into the rock. Avanyu, the Tewa Pueblo serpent, spirit of the waters, also lives here. We were overlooking a stunning valley with interlocking arroyos and even in drought we could see evidence of underground water seeping to the surface, dampening desert sand. I wondered if there were hidden springs somewhere on the mesa. There were so many potsherds that I speculated… Were some clay vessels actually made here, or perhaps more likely, maybe this was simply another very large self sustaining Indigenous Pueblo community… On this hill there were also many volcanic boulders, some appeared to have been deliberately placed in a circle… Even more fascinating were the stones that were smoothed and hollowed out by women grinding foodstuffs into flour. I was surprised to see so many of these in one relatively small area indicating that many women (and children) congregated in this one place. These worked stones are called Metates that were and are still used by some Indigenous women to grind seeds, grains, maize into flour to be used in cooking. Some are portable these were not. The most unusual feature of these rocks is that there were a number of different sized hollowed out depressions in a single stone. I have a portable metate with three depressions on its upper surface, and Iren has some with depressions that I believe were used to grind lime treated maize during food preparation. But these particular grinding stones not only had hollowed out spaces in the upper surface of the rock but along the sides as well. Researching possibilities for why this might be so I learned that some immovable metates were used to grind acorns and plant materials of different sizes for medicinal uses on the actual sites where the plants/trees thrived. Since women were also responsible for medicinal healing I guessed that at one time there were roots and herbs that were found here and pulverized to create health remedies. Since grinding acorns created small pockets that looked like dimples in the rocks, and we saw a number of these small holes I wondered if at one time oak forests were abundant here. But of course my all of my perceptions are pure speculation because only the land holds the truth of the story. I spied a suspiciously round volcanic stone and immediately intuited with excitement that I had picked up a mano, the word used to describe the kind of rock that might be used to grind up plant material. I found one many years ago in Tucson, and when I took it to the park’s wildlife center, they confirmed that I had discovered this tool beside one of the arroyos I walked regularly. About a half a mile back I had seen a metate situated on the edge of the arroyos and imagined the women gazing into the talking waters as they worked… As Iren and I wandered over this particular landscape I had the same powerful feeling that I had when I came here with her the first time – namely that the Earth was attempting to communicate the story of her earlier inhabitants, to us, and perhaps to anyone with eyes to see and ears to listen. So perhaps my speculations are grounded in the wisdom of Powers of Place that intersect with ordinary time. Stillness, simple questions, and keen attention to the land seem to allow ancient truths to surface through Earth’s body educating those who choose to listen about the lives of the women who lived and worked here so long ago. (Meet Mago Contributor) Sara Wright
(Prose) After Words: A Reflection on the Fourth of July by Sara Wright

Photo by Sara Wright This morning, hummingbirds, hummingbird moths, honeybees with a thousand eyes, brilliant orange fritillaries are capturing nectar from my wild bee balm, butterfly weed, and milkweed. Bee balm stalks are almost as tall as the five-and-a-half-foot Guardian cedar – the latter only planted four years ago. Early this morning on my daily walk I noted with pleasure the conversation between Yellowthroat and Indigo Bunting (yes they communicate across species) so absentee birds are once again singing after a week of diminishing song which began the morning after the first night of mindless explosions that split the night into fragmented shards of metal, raining down deadly particulate matter and adding even more pollution leaving our air choking with poisons. This kind of noise pollution damages all human cells. This is but one example of an early ‘celebratory’ 4th of July bombing, machine gun fire, and were there fireworks too? I have no idea. The dogs and I left immediately. I always keep the car ready for instant evacuation for us even if I am at camp. A comfortable puff and pillow offer us a bed and netting stretched across the back of the open car making it comfortable to sleep no matter how hot the night is or wherever we end up. It must be said that setting off fireworks doesn’t have to be so deadly. Some places do put on stunning displays, and there are many people who love the colors, others have fond memories. A long time ago, I did too. I remember as a child running after my father through my grandparents’ field with a pail of water in my hand as he pinpointed the drop making sure that the Roman Candles that fell to earth were completely cool, and not a fire threat to tall grasses. I was proud to be the water carrier. As we grew older my little brother and I were also allowed to have sparklers – two children dancing around in joy and abandon under starry nights under adult supervision. What we didn’t have was ear splitting noise. One-inch firecrackers (which only my father set off) were the noise makers. They popped! Such innocence. Photo by Sara Wright Photo by Sara Wright This morning not only were the birds singing but the baby turkeys were chortling though they are still in hiding. ‘Fear the human’ all non-human species cry out though no person is listening. With ears so sensitive to human induced noise all I can do is to hope that they can cope. What the animals and birds do is to disappear into protected forests and hunker down – I do the same… a survival tactic for all of us. The first blossoming Bee balm used to remind me of summer fire. Now when I see the sprays of these beautiful scarlet flowers. I imagine explosions. I just got off the phone with a close friend who lives elsewhere who was wondering why he was subjected to machine gun fire as part of celebrating – well what? This holiday, supposedly a ‘tradition’ to honor American independence from foreign tyranny has been twisted into an opportunity to create misery for ? So much for tradition; it’s nothing but an excuse. When I brought up the fact that celebrating this country ‘s ‘independence’ from anything seemed absurd in light of a country now held hostage by four or five corporate institutions that own and control everything from the internet to food production, my friend sagely remarked that rage and the powerlessness of so many made poor bedmates. FEAR dominates the people who need to use machine guns as weapons to create the worst noise pollution of all just to feel POWERFUL. These men – (I call them baby men) are boys of any age who are totally out of control with fear and terror and a probable need for revenge that continues to drive on spurious actions. That the increasingly destructive reign of Patriarchy is behind this insanity is probably obvious to anyone that reads this article – women and decent men alike. Protectors like the ganders of the large goose and duck families that I visit at the pond remind me that other species far older and wiser than humans don’t behave this way. There are two male geese, one more dominant than the other, but both protect not only their blended families but the bevy of black ducks and mallards that gather in the reeds in an otherwise human overpopulated pond, full of speed boats, kayaks, and yes, a big fourth of July celebration complete with loud music and fireworks for all. I visit these geese on a regular basis, and the Protector, the one I call Papa, comes to me when I call his name. I marvel at this demonstration of genuine community with something akin to awe. No one likes the geese on this pond except me (to my knowledge) and they are not welcomed by any pond dweller most of whom have lawns, so they congregate in the marshy places at the too shallow ree clogged end of the pond. I have been publicly chastised for feeding them by a woman who needed to mind her own business and doesn’t even live here (women are patriarchs too). Although it is true that occasionally I leave a few tidbits most of the time I am simply photographing. One sad irony here is that the people who do live on the pond adore their eagles, anxiously awaiting arrivals in the spring, monitoring nesting, photographing the families and verbally demonstrating affection for these top predators* while apparently neglecting the birds during their big July 4th bash. Don’t they realize that eagles like all birds have incredibly sensitive hearing and may be adversely affected by this human display of noise? The point that I am making by bringing in the eagles is that all too often humans profess love for their non -human relatives especially if they are top …
(Art) Riders by Paula Lietz

I was brought up that we are all one no matter what we are. Thus a rock, river, tree, sunset was the same as I and I the same as the wonder I saw. Was I really all that beauty? Couild I be? Yes. Every dust molecule of me screamed yes.

(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 2) Nine-Headed Dragon Slain by Patriarchal Heroes: A Cross-cultural Discussion by Mago Circle Members

[Editor’s Note: This and the ensuing sequels 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 another image of the nine-headed Lernaean Hydra slain by Herakles. https://simple.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hydra_(mythology)… Glenys Livingstone: Yes, the Hercules story is more documentation of the Old Battle, of the rise of the “hero” to slay the Mother, when in the earliest of times he served with his beauty and labours. It is so interesting to see the analogies in other cultures/places as you are doing Helen, especially in Asia – it seems important work. Your perseverance is paying off, and will. Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: Glenys, I am re-reading a book on Chinese mythology and found a lot more on the nine Magoist symbolism. Someday, I hope to write about the topic in its own right. Glenys Livingstone: This chapter’s work is good re the Old Battle in Greek mythology: Valaoritis, Nanos. “The Cosmic Conflict of Male and Female in Greek Mythology”, in From the Realm of the Ancestors: An Anthology in Honor of Marija Gimbutas. Joan Marler (ed). Manchester CT: Knowledge, Ideas and Trends Inc., 1997, p.247 – 261. Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: Now back to the female divine who is depicted with the nine heads. See the nine-headed Guanyin/Kannon/Gwaneum. Also note that her icon comes in eleven-headed (the 8 Daughters and the Triad Creatrix, which makes eleven). http://www.onmarkproductions.com/html/kannon.shtml Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: The symbol of nine dragons was adopted by imperial China. See the Nine Dragon Wall China. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nine-Dragon_Wall Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: We connect the dots. When Guanyin is depicted with nine dragons, it conveys that the nine symbolism was/is once deemed sacred. https://i.pinimg.com/originals/4a/17/b3/4a17b33d9a4ae53bad6466a0eaf11722.jpg How popular the Guanyin icon, three headed and eight armed, to this day! Simply Google “eight armed Guanyin.” Below is from the Late Ming Dynasty, China. https://www.google.com/search?q=eight%20armed%20guanyin… She comes in a different name, Ushnishavijaya, in Tibetan Buddhism. https://www.himalayanart.org/items/65445 Helen Hye-Sook Hwang: We can draw that the female deity such as Guanyin and Ushnishavijaya, just to name two, is venerated in association with the nine symbolism. Within the mytho-history of Magoism, I infer that Guanyin or Ma Guanyin is a persona embodying Goma, the Magoist Shaman ruler of Danguk (3898 BCE-2333 BCE), the head of Nine Hans (Magoist Koreans). Note that Magoist shamans or priestesses are called “Mago.” See my essay, “Goma, the Shaman Ruler of Old Magoist East Asia/Korea and Her Mythology,” in Goddesses in Myth, History and Culture (Lytle Creek, CA: Mago Books), 2018. The insight that the major Goddesses in East Asia and beyond point to the same and old divine persona is NOT farfetched, considering that the nine-headed snake or dragon representing the female sovereignty of pre-patriarchal times is slain by male heroes across cultures. Judy E Foster: I’d have to agree with you here. As usual, interesting information! Patty Kay: My meditation this morning was on a history of mysticism. While I’m in the midst of appropriating all of the wonderful beliefs I find here, I also have found a strand in my own tradition that helps me understand why all the Divine Feminine stuff makes so much sense to me. I’ve been trying to determine when the patriarchal world view took over. According to this history, mysticism began to emerge in about 800 to 500 BCE. Could it be that mysticism kept alive the ancient understanding of the cosmos? This is just speculation, but in it I’m answering my own questions. (To be continued) Join us in The Mago Circle https://www.facebook.com/groups/magoism/.
(Special Post Isis 3) Why the Color of Isis Matters by Mago Circle Members

[Editor’s note: The discussion took place in Mago Circle during the month of July, 2013. Our heartfelt thanks go to the members who participated in this discussion with openness and courage.] Part 3 Isis, Arab Women Revolution, and Black Goddesses Naa Ayele Kumari Going back to the original topic of the post…. Some quotes ” Women are in half the society… How come there are only 7 in the Assembly… and they are all Islamist! ” I can’t beat up my wife and almost kill her and call it discipline… this is not discipline… this is abuse and insanity” http://youtu.be/y4umifTLSII 12-Year Old Explains Egyptian Revolution in Under 3 Minutes www.youtube.com Max Dashu It is tremendously heartening to see these insights being expressed, and spread. The Salafis have made such inroads, and now the pushback is happening. Harita Meenee Dear Naa Ayele Kumari, thank you actually reading my post and commenting something relevant to it. It’s refreshing when someone does hear what we have to say instead of projecting their own notions. Building a solidarity movement with those who are oppressed but fighting is very important during these critical times! Harita Meenee See also: https://www.facebook.co/intifadat.almar2a?fref=ts The uprising of women in the Arab world انتفاضة المرأة في العالم العربي حرية الفكر ، حرية التعبير ، حرية الاعتقاد ، حرية التنقل ، حرية الجسد ، حرية اللب…See More Glenys Livingstone … as you say Max …” way too much of it going on” – amongst people who should know better (I would have thought): “Dark goddess as terrifying, challenging, white goddess as benign; “black magic” as harmful; I see way, way too much of this going on out there.” And related to that in my mind is all the “love and light” business that is so common: the Ground of Being is Dark … it seems to me that mystics have always understood the quintessential darkness of Love/Deity. Max Dashu Sure. I would just like to add that the critique raised here addressed issues much broader than the substance of the article, which made some good points. But once the choice of graphics flagged the issue of representation, people had much more to say about that old yet still very fresh wound which is constantly reopened by the cultural habit of whitening Egypt, or interpreting Africa through a eurocentric lens. It is not on any one person to carry the weight of that; we all have a responsibility to address the issues, but especially those of us of European heritage need to familiarize ourselves with how this plays out over and over. Just as men have a responsibility to speak up in support of women when patriarchal assumptions are on board. We all can learn something from each other, along all the various axes of domination, and overthrow them in coalition. Naa Ayele Kumari I have often considered where the roots of this psychology comes from. It is dualistic thinking that causes us to compare and contrast, then sum up judgement of good or bad and place a value on each. It extends into competition and justification for war. It also doesn’t escape me that often this came with certain civilizations who systematically destroyed others. It didn’t just happen with blacks in Africa… but blacks in Asia and the Indus Valley as well. With the Aryan invasions of India, came the eventual introduction to lighter divinities and more emphasis on male divinities. Southern Indians, Sri Lankans are very dark… even more so than many African Blacks. The caste systems implemented by the Aryan invaders did the same thing to them casting them as “untouchables”. With that came the marginalization of their black female divinities such as Kali. Kali actually has 10-16 forms… from compassionate mother, the fountain of wisdom, to she of great beauty but she is minimized as just destructive and terrifying… especially as Brhaman, Vishnuu, and Shiva grow in popularity. One of Kali’s statues has her black self standing on top of Shiva because she conquered him. Later there is a discussion in on of the Hindu text explaining Kali (as Parvati) after being subdued by Shiva she becomes lighter. Further they have stories about him rejecting her and calling her blackie which made her do austerities to rid herself of her black skin. Naa Ayele Kumari It should not be overlooked that in the Story of Alice in Wonderland… a story intended to keep Goddess elements for future generations, has the Elder sister ( the Queen of Hearts) portrayed as man, ego, and power driven who cuts off heads and has a fierce dragon…a clear reference to Kali. The White goddess as the younger sister is her opponent… and her mission is to usurp the throne of the Queen of Hearts even though she was the rightful heir as the oldest … or primordial. Stories like these also reinforce the stereotypes and negative iconography. Max Dashu Yes, it is pervasive in many cultures of domination. Demons are portrayed as black not only in Europe, which we know well, but also in China and in a lot of Buddhist iconography. In modern India, the sweet goddesses are shown as pink, the wrathful as black; and Krishna (name means “dark”) is turned powder blue. (Another of his titles, s’yam, also meaning dark, is the word translated as “green” in Green Tara.) The countercurrents (Black Mazu, loving Kali – esp in Bengal and south India, Black Madonna) bubbled up from the common people, who knew and longed for something other than the dominant racialized hierarchy. Naa Ayele Kumari I am just discovering Mazu ( Matzu/LuShui) in China today! Never knew about her. This discussion has led me to look deeper for black goddesses in Asia. Max Dashu Taoist spiritual tradition often refers to Xüan Nü, which can be translated in several ways. You’ll usually see it rendered as “the Mysterious Female,” a phrase that occurs in the Dao De Jing (Tao Te Ching), and this is a valid translation; but what is less emphasized is that it also means “the Dark Woman.” In […]

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

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

Spring At the highest point on the tree, you stretch, reaching for the sun. Your pink petals elegant in their grace, you stand alone. Bravest of all, for leaves have yet to come to offer shade Branches bare except for furry buds that will soon follow in imitation of your daring first move. Intrepid flower of Spring, I feel like you in my yearning for the Sun!
(Essay and Video) Cosmogenesis Dance: Celebrating Her Unfolding by Glenys Livingstone

The dance begins with two concentric circles, which will flow in and out of each other throughout the dance, resulting thus in a third concentric circle that comes and goes. The three circles/layers are understood to represent the three aspects of Goddess, the Creative Triple Dynamic that many ancients were apparently aware of, and imagined in so many different ways across the globe. In Her representation in Ireland as the Triple Spiral motif, which is inscribed on the inner chamber wall at Bru-na-Boinne (known as Newgrange)[1], She seems to be understood as a dynamic essential to on-going Cosmic Creativity, as this ancient motif is dramatically lit up by the Winter Solstice dawn. It seems that this was important to the Indigenous people of this place at the time of Winter Solstice, which celebrates Origins, the continuing birth of all. Thus I like to do this Cosmogenesis Dance, as I have named it[2], at the Winter Solstice in particular. The three aspects that the dance may embody, and are poetically understood as Goddess, celebrate (i) Virgin/Young One – Urge to Be as I have named this quality – the ever new differentiated being (also known as Fodla in the region of the Triple Spiral)[3]. This is the outer circle of individuals. (ii) Mother – the deeply related interwoven web – Dynamic Place of Being as I have named this quality – the communion that our habitat is (also known as Eriu in the region of the Triple Spiral)[4]. This is the woven middle circle where all are linked and swaying in rhythm. (iii) Crone/Old One – the eternal creative return to All-That-Is – She who Creates the Space to Be as I have named this quality (also known as Banba in the region of the Triple Spiral)[5]. This is the inner circle where linked hands are raised and stillness is held. The three concentric layers of the dance may be understood to embody these. The Cosmogenesis Dance represents the flow and balance of these three – a flow and balance of Self, Other and All-That-Is. It may be experienced like a breath, that we breathe together – as we do co-create the Cosmos. Thomas Berry and Brian Swimme have named the three qualities of Cosmogenesis in the following way: – differentiation … to be is to be unique – communion … to be is to be related – autopoiesis/subjectivity … to be is to be a centre of creativity.[6] The three layers of the dance may be felt to celebrate each unique being, in deep relationship with other, directly participating in the sentient Cosmos, the Well of Creativity. The Cosmogenesis Dance as it is done within PaGaian Winter Solstice ceremony expresses the whole Creative Process we are immersed in. It is a process of complete reciprocity, a flow of Creator and Created, like a breath. There is dynamic exchange in every moment: that is the nature of the Place we inhabit. The dance may help awaken us to it, and to invoke it. The Cosmogenesis Dance on YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dR73MDMM9Fk For more story: Cosmogenesis Dance for Winter Ritual For Dance Instructions: PaGaian Cosmology Appendix I Meet Mago Contributor Glenys Livingstone NOTES: [1] The Triple Spiral engraving is dated at 2,400 B.C.E. [2] This dance is originally named as “The Stillpoint Dance”, or sometimes “Adoramus Te Domine” which is the name of the music used for it. I learned it from Dr. Jean Houston in 1990 at a workshop of hers in Sydney, Australia. I began to use the dance for Winter Solstice ceremony in 1997, and it was only in the second year of doing so that I realised its three layers were resonant with the three traditional qualities of the Female Metaphor/Goddess, and also the three faces of Cosmogenesis. I thereafter re-named and storied the dance that way in the ceremonial preparation and teaching for Winter Solstice. See Glenys Livingstone, PaGaian Cosmology: pp. 280-281 and 311. [3] Michael Dames, Ireland: a Sacred Journey, p.192. [4] Michael Dames, Ireland: a Sacred Journey, p. 192. [5] Michael Dames, Ireland: a Sacred Journey, p. 192. [6] Brian Swimme and Thomas Berry, The Universe Story, p. 71-79. I have identified these qualities with the Triple Goddess, and the Triple Spiral in the synthesis of PaGaian Cosmology: see Glenys Livingstone, PaGaian Cosmology, particularly Chapter 4: https://pagaian.org/book/chapter-4/ References: Dames, Michael. Ireland: a Sacred Journey, Element Books, 2000. Livingstone, Glenys. PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion. Lincoln NE: iUniverse, 2005. Swimme, Brian and Berry, Thomas. The Universe Story: From the Primordial Flaring Forth to the Ecozoic Era. NY: HarperCollins, 1992.
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) …
(Essay) The Emergence celebrated at Spring Equinox by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

The Spring Equinox Moment occurs September 21-23 Southern Hemisphere, March 21-23 Northern Hemisphere. The full story of Spring Equinox is expressed in the full flower connected to the seed fresh from the earth; that is, it is a story of emergence from the dark, from a journey, perhaps long, perhaps short, through challenging places. The joy of the blossoming is rooted in the journey through the dark, and an acknowledgement of the dark’s fertile gift, as well as of great achievement in having made it, of having returned. Both Equinoxes, Spring and Autumn, celebrate this sacred balance of grief and joy, light and dark, and they are both celebrations of the mystery of the seed. The seed is essentially the deep Creativity within – that manifests in the Spring as flower, or green emerged One. the full story: the root and the flower As the new young light continues to grow at this time of Spring, it comes into balance with the dark at Spring Equinox, or ‘Eostar’ as it may be named; about to tip further into light when light will dominate the day. The trend at this Equinox is toward increasing hours of light: and thus it is about the power of being – life is stepping into it. Earth in this region is tilting further toward the Sun. Traditionally it may be storied as the joyful celebration of a Lost Beloved One, who may be represented by the Persephone story: She is a shamanic figure who is known for Her journey to the Underworld, and who at this time of Spring Equinox returns. Her Mother Demeter who has waited and longed for Her in deep grief, rejoices and so do all: warmth and growth return to the land. Persephone, the Beloved Daughter, the Seed, has navigated the darkness successfully, has enriched it with Her presence and also gained its riches. Eostar/Spring Equinox is the magic of the unexpected, yet long awaited, green emergence from under the ground, and then the flower: this emergence is especially profound as it is from a seed that has lain dormant for months or longer – much like the magic of desert blooms after long periods of drought. The name of “Eostar” comes from the Saxon Goddess Eostre/Ostara, the northern form of the Sumerian Astarte[i]. The Christian festival in the Spring, was named “Easter” as of the Middle Ages, appropriating Goddess/Earth tradition. The date of Easter, which is set for Northern Hemispheric seasons, is still based on the lunar/menstrual calendar; that is, the 1st Sunday after the first full Moon after Spring Equinox. In Australia where I am, “Easter” is celebrated in Autumn (!) by mainstream culture, so we have the spectacle of fluffy chickens, chocolate eggs and rabbits in the shops at that time. There are other names for “Eostar” in other places …the Welsh name for the Spring Equinox celebration is Eilir, meaning ‘regeneration’ or ‘spring’ – or ‘earth’[ii]. In my own PaGaian tradition, the Spring Equinox celebration is based on the Demeter and Persephone story, the version that is understand as pre-patriarchal, from Old Europe. In the oldest stories, Persephone has agency in Her descent: She descends to the underworld voluntarily as a courageous seeker of wisdom, and a compassionate receiver of the dead. She represents, and IS, the Seed of Life that never fades away. Spring Equinox is a celebration of Her return, Life’s continual return, and thus also our personal and collective emergences/returns.We may contemplate the collective emergence/returns especially in our times. I describe Persephone as a “hera”, which of old was a term for any courageous One. “Hera” was a pre-Hellenic name for the Goddess in general[iii]. “Hera” was the indigenous Queen Goddess of pre-Olympic Greece, before She was married off to Zeus. “Hero” was a term for the brave male Heracles who carried out tasks for his Goddess Hera: “The derivative form ‘heroine’ is therefore completely unnecessary”[iv]. “Hera” may be used as a term for any courageous individual: and participants in PaGaian Spring Equinox ceremony have named themselves this way. The pre-“Olympic” games of Greece were Hera’s games, held at Her Heraion/temple[v]. The winners were “heras” – gaining the status of being like Her[vi]. At the time of Spring Equinox, we may celebrate the Persephone, the Hera, the Courageous One, who steps with new wisdom, into power of being: the organic power that all beings must have, Gaian power, the power of the Cosmos. This Seasonal ceremony may be a rejoicing in how we have made it through great challenges and loss, faced our fears and our demise (in its various forms), had ‘close shaves’ – perhaps physically as well as psychicly and emotionally. It is a time to welcome back that which was lost, and step into the strength of being. Spring Equinox/Eostar is the time for enjoying the fruits of the descent, of the journey taken into the darkness: return is now certain, not tentative as it was in the Early Spring/Imbolc. Demeter, the Mother, receives the Persephones, Lost Beloved Ones, joyously. This may be understood as an individual experience, but also as a collective experience – as we emerge into a new Era as a species. Thomas Berry and Brian Swimme speak of the ending of the sixty-five million year geological Era – the Cenozoic Era – in our times, and our possible emergence into an Ecozoic Era. They describe the Ecozoic Era as a time when “the curvature of the universe, the curvature of the earth, and the curvature of the human are once more in their proper relation”[vii]. Joanna Macy speaks of the “Great Turning” of our times[viii]. Collectively we have been away from the Mother for some time and there is a lot of pain. At this time we may contemplate not only our own individual lost wanderings, but also that of the human species. We are part of a much bigger Return that is happening. The Beloved One may be understood as returning on a collective level: …
(Art & Poem) Spring Equinox by Sudie Rakusin & Annie Finch

A SEED FOR SPRING EQUINOX . . . till I feel the earth around the place my head has lain under winter’s touch, and it crumbles. Slanted weight of clouds. Reaching with my head and shoulders past the open crust dried by spring wind. Sun. Tucking through the ground that has planted cold inside me, made its waiting be my food. Now I watch the watching dark my light’s long-grown dark makes known. Art and poem are included in Celebrating Seasons of the Goddess (Mago Books, 2017). (Meet Mago Contributor) Sudie Rakusin (Meet Mago Contributor) Annie Finch

(Essay) A Cross-Cultural Feminist Alchemy: Studying Mago, Pan-East Asian Great Goddess, Using Mary Daly’s Radical Feminism as Springboard by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

Mago is the Great Goddess of East Asia and in particular Korea. Reconstructing Magoism, the cultural and historical context of East Asia that venerated Mago as the supreme divine, is both the means and the end. Magoism demonstrates the derivative nature of East Asian religions such as Daoism, Buddhism, and Confucianism while redefining East Asian Shamanism to be the religious expression of Magoism. I encountered the topic of Mago during my doctoral studies. The topic of Mago fell out of nowhere at the time I was preparing for qualifying examinations. I had never heard the name, Mago. Only when I was able to collect a large amount of primary sources from Korea, China, and Japan, was I awakened to the cultural memory of Mago. I grew up craving the stories of Halmi (Grandmother/Great Mother), a common referral to Mago among Koreans. I had a childhood experience of being in the fairy land unfolded by my grandmother’s old stories. While “Mago” was unfamiliar to most Koreans, she was taken for granted in her many other names such as Samsin (the Triad Deity) and Nogo (Old Goddess) and place-names such as Nogo-san (Old Goddess Mountain) and Nogo-dang (Old Goddess Shrine). A Korean scholar, on a casual occasion, gave me a book entitled the Budoji (Epic of the Emblem City). He may have intuitively foreseen that I would make use of it sooner or later. The Budoji is an apocryphal text that describes the genesis event of Mago and her paradise called Mago-seong (Castle/Stonewalls of Mago) and an ensuing deployment of pre-patriarchal Korean history, thitherto unheard of. Upon my first reading of the Budoji, I was more confused than enlightened, but I felt drawn into and embraced by its mythic, historical and poetic language. I was already far along the path before I realized I was truly immersed within it! An ark of treasure emitting a pristine aura was laid before me, though I was too bedazzled to see within. Mago was there, shrouded in her old garments, seemingly obsolete, but a full and complete presence. I was tongue-tied a while. But I did inquire about Mago among Koreans. I learned that Mago was recognized by contemporary Koreans, marking the modern revival of Magoism. A movie entitled “Mago” was being made. A newly formed feminist musical band named itself “Mago.” A tea house named the “Mago Cafe” further enforced the reality that there was a pride and understanding of her existence. Foremost, I was surprised by the fact that a large number of Mago stories were available both online and written documents. Many stories that depict Mago as the nature-shaper of local landscapes such as mountains, rocks (including dolmens and megaliths), seas, villages, streams, stone-walls, and caves, were still told by the elders in small villages of Korea. I also found historical materials that mention Mago not only from Korea but also China and Japan. I brought up the subject of Mago to my advisors in time to propose a topic for my dissertation. This topic was barely known to anyone in academia. I was able to put together a bibliography with a considerable amount of source materials for my dissertation proposal. Secondary sources were, albeit small in number, also gathered. That marked the beginning of my study of Mago. I had another dissertation topic at that time. In fact, my thitherto prospective topic was Mary Daly’s feminist religious thought. Daly’s feminist thought had been the guiding light ever since I first read the Beyond God the Father in early 1990s. I encountered Mary Daly’s post-Christian thought when I was on the brink of Christianity. I had been a member of Maryknoll Sisters, an organization that opened up to me the possibility of cross-cultural living. Though I dedicated myself to implementing Christian ideals, all I could see was the necrophilic “foreground;” a world dictated by patriarchal institutions and ideologies. Feminist theology was self-transcending to me. I was unafraid of going beyond the boundary of Christianity and its God. Female subjectivity of which I was now conscious no longer held male subjectivity “neutral” or “objective.” My take of female subjectivity, however, needed to peel off another layer of ethnocentrism, Sino-centrism in East Asain studies and Euro-centrism in feminist studies. I began to re-orient myself to the new reality, “the Biophilic Background,” to borrow Daly’s term, by affirming myself, a Korean feminist, and all Others rendered as “inferior” by the patriarchal and/or Euro-centric self. I was a self-motivated feminist learner. I had spent four years alone in reading or rather soaking in Daly’s books after withdrawing from Christianity. I translated Daly’s first two books as well as one Eco-feminist book, Reweaving the World, edited by Diamond and Orenstein into Korean during that time. It was a time of self-birth as a woman-identified woman. I de-educated myself from patriarchal knowledge and ethics and spent time to reestablish my relationship with my mother. The process of de-education took place inwardly while I was reading feminist books, keeping my daily journals, and practicing meditations including physical activities such as walking and stretching. These were the things that I had already been doing. What was new to this period was that I chose things that I wanted to do especially with my body and senses. I practiced gukseon-do (a Korean traditional mind and body exercise, equivalent to yoga) on a regular basis and took art lessons including fine art and calligraphic painting. I took time in nature visiting mountains, parks, and Buddhist temples. I reflected upon my mindset to see if I was still feeding the conceptual habit of self-defeat imposed upon women by patriarchal religions and cultures. For example, I probed to see if I was still under the influence of the so-called “feminine virtues” of dependency, obeisance, and silence. For quite some years, I was caught in raw emotions of anger and grief. Nonetheless, I knew, even then, that those emotions were there to help me build myself as a life-affirming existence. Any practice that was necrophilic was something that I disassociated myself from and avoided. …
(Budoji Essay 1) The Magoist Cosmogony by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

“The Great Goddess Myth is the first and last revelation to humankind. Where the Primordial Mother is, there is Home!” Part 1 Introduction When I first read the Budoji (Epic of the Emblem City), the principal text of Magoism, my life journey took an unexpected turn. The power of the Magoist cosmogony began to work on me, and suddenly I was returning Home with/to/in Mago, the Great Goddess! Before, “Home” had seemed an unreal destination, a mirage that lured voyagers to its abyss of nowhere. I had been stripped of “Home.” The Magoist cosmogony gifted me with a vision of what I had been seeking as a feminist voyager. I meant to return Home. In Mago, I felt no longer free-floating, but this was not without its price. My radical feminist searches brought me no material benefits; rather, to become Myself was the reward. Layer after layer of patriarchal deception had to be peeled off. And for women who, like me, came from the non-Western, formerly colonized world, reversing the reversals required a deeper analysis of racism, ethnocentrism, and colonialism. I underwent the process of becoming Me, a process which also led me to WE. Personally, Homecoming means an integration of myself within the mytho-historical-cultural context of Magoism. However, Homecoming in the Great Goddess can never be an isolated individual act. Magoism unfolds the Primordial Home wherein all beings are kindred. The Primordial Home is for everyone. Everyone is destined to return Home in the Great Goddess because She is Here for us all. She will be Here for as long as humanity survives. Homecoming is a harbinger; it signals the arrival of WE, a very old concept that was misconstrued if not tabooed in patriarchy. The nature of my life has changed. “I” is no longer in the way of “WE.” “I” and “WE” do not stand against each other. Furthermore, “I” is transformed by “WE,” just as are all things in the universe. Scalar turns to vector. Chaos yields to order. The labyrinth leads to the Source. My feminism is rewarded with gynocentrism, the Goddess Matrix in which the female principle by far surpasses patriarchy. As many admit, Myth, the story of the divine, is etiological, meaning it explains the origin of things. I hold that only the gynocentric cosmogonic myth can be fully etiological, shedding light on the primal beginning. Myth is inherently gynocentric, for it is derived from the perception of the Primordial Mother, the oldest divine in human history. Put differently, Myth tells us that the Divine is She, that Female is the original divine. Myth is ultimately inseparable from the Great Goddess. The Primordial Mother is the macrocosmic translation of a mother. She is the Metaphor for life-giver and life-raiser. Divinity issues from Her. In Her, everything, including the God, is endowed with divinity. The etiological and metaphoric nature of Myth is fully illumined only in the story of the female beginning. The Goddess Myth told to/by us testifies to what patriarchy can’t or doesn’t tell. It is a language distinguished from that of patriarchy, dominating if not violent. The nature of Its language is persuasive and pacific. The truth It tells awakens one to Home. It is intrinsically soteriological, and herein lies the urgency of Myth: It shows the Way that humanity needs to know and follow in order to survive and flourish. The Great Goddess Myth is the first and last revelation to humankind. Where the Primordial Mother is, there is Home! Mago is not necessarily the “creator” of things. In the Magoist cosmogony, there is no one who created or creates anything alone. (I have used the term “cosmogony” in place of “creation” to avoid the conflation of Magoist thought with the origin-stories of patriarchal religions.) Instead, all things are interdependent and the power of auto-genesis is embedded within the universe itself. In explaining that, the Magoist cosmogony does not employ a magical or a logical jump. In the time of beginning, cosmic rays dance in accordance with the law of nature. Mago and primordial matter are self-born through the movement of cosmic music. Mago is, above all, the Cause of human existence. All things on Earth are indebted to Mago for She initiated the process auto-genesis of the Earth itself. In short, She is the Source of Life on Earth. Without Her, nothing is possible for us.
(Mago Almanac Planner Year 5 Excerpt 3) 13 Month 28 Day Magoist Calendar by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

[Author’s Note: This and its sequences are a newly added portion in the Mago Almanac Planner Year 5, equivalent to the Gregorian Year 2022. Because the Budoji did not explain further about time units smaller than 1 day, I did not follow through some possible implications in previous Mago Almanac volumes. Next year’s Mago Almanac Planner for Personal Journey: 13 Month 28 Day Calendar Year 5 or 5919 MAGOMA ERA is forthcoming in Mago Bookstore (October 25, 2021). PDF version is available for purchase.] We set the new moon day of the Winter Solstice month in 2017 as the New Year of Year 1. With that, we are able to tap Magoist days into Gregorian days that we moderns use. Then, how do we bring down a Magoist time in the scheme of the Gregorian time? How do we determine the onset of New Year in the Magoist Calendar? When would be the midnight of New Year in Year 1? That requires a translation of Mago time into Gregorian time. We can designate midnight as a midpoint in time equidistant from the sunset of New Year’s Eve to the sunrise of New Year. As local times vary around the globe, the midnight of New Year varies in states and cities. In Los Angeles, California USA, the first Magoist midnight falls on 23:29 on December 17, 2017 for Year 1. That would be 07:29 on December 18, 2017 in UTC. Year 1Year 2Year 3Year 4Midnight12/17/2017 23:2912/17/2018 23:2912/17/2019 23:2912/16/2020 23:30Sunset16:45, 12/1716:45, 12/1716:45, 12/1716:44, 12/16Sunrise6:53, 12/186:53, 12/18 6:53, 12/186:53, 12/17 (Sunset and sunrise times in Los Angeles, USA) The below table shows the first Magoist midnight (around 0.33 AM) falls on December 18, 2017 in Gyeongju, South Korea. That would be 15:33 on December 17, 2017 in UTC. Year 1Year 2Year 3Year 4Midnight12/18/2017 0:33.512/18/2018 0:32.512/18/2019 0:32.512/17/2020 0:32.5Sunset17:11, 12/1717:11, 12/1717:11, 12/1717:11, 12/16Sunrise7:28, 12/187:27, 12/18 7:27, 12/187:27, 12/17 (Sunset and sunrise times in Gyeongju, South Korea) We can imagine a spiral progression of years from Little Calendar (one year) to Medium Calendar (two years) and to Large Calendar (four years). Every year has one leap day, whereas every fourth year has another leap day in the middle of the year. Cyclic time, as it progresses, creates rhythm and harmony in the human world. Little Calendar (1 year)13×1=13 months364 days+1 leap day=365 daysMedium Calendar (2 years)13×2=26 months2x(364 days+1 leap day) =730 daysLarge Calendar (4 years)13×4=52 months4x(364 days+1 leap day)+1 leap day=1,461 days (End of the series) https://www.magoacademy.org/virtual-midnight-vigil-to-new-year/ https://www.magoism.net/2013/07/meet-mago-contributor-helen-hwang/