Etiological Myth of


Compiler's preface

In Her cosmic sleep an elemental female force dreamt She was a lifebearing planet upon which a prolific species (whom She experienced as Her youngest, brashest, but most promising and much beloved son) became so individually greedy, so communally rapacious and devouring that they gradually destroyed almost all Her older children, polluted their biosphere, ravished Her, their Matrix, of resources and eventually, in a nuclearcaust of antagonistic panic, blew Her planetary self -- and therefore of course themselves -- to smithereens. In the vast void of Her dreaming mind the worldly fragments exploded, every fragment a particle of Her memory and, like a seed, containing the potential of almost exactly reduplicating its origin.

Gradually losing momentum after eons of dispersion, the disorganized material began falling together, merging into swirling gaseous mists of warmth. These further condensed into heat clusters eventually forming the myriad suns of isolated galaxies. And round about those suns their satellites, origin inherent, strove again to reproduce life and, where conditions favored, life again arose. Upon one such earthy mote, within an individual dreaming mind the Cosmic Dreamer's dream comingled. And taking the form of a Weird Old Woman it seemed She said (for understanding occurred though She doesn't exactly speak):


"During a hundred and sixty years or so, Moon starts Her revolution round Earth on every day of the year. If every day were named by one of my many names, every luna revolution could be named for the day of its beginning. Often have I been revered as Queen of Earth nor less often been adored as Queen of Heaven with Moon my emblem, Moon my crown. Mistakes will be made, never mind. Error is the wellspring of creation, without it life would never have evolved. Do this for yourself, do this for your kind, do this for me. Perhaps then I may be remembered and cared for by Humanity, my son. I fear for him if he cannot care for me, I fear for my dear and precious one".



Then an awaking took place and work began.

It is the Great Goddess, therefore, after Whom every day is named in Her Cycle of Transformations, the perennial calendar (as some peoples have named Her from the dawn of written names), and the Great Goddess, therefore, after Whom each lunation is named in the annual form of the calendar, after Her, the Great Goddess, Who initiates the differentiation and proliferation of life-forms. "What I need I breed", says She Who sustains all life inducing relationships: solar-system to galaxy, planet to Sun, moon to earth, organism to biosphere. It is Herself without Whom, all being just so, none of us could ever have happened. It is Earth, our Grand Mother of mothers; Anima Mundi, our Great Self; Old Woman Evolution, our Teacher, our Awesome Idea, who is celebrated here in Her Cycle of Transformations.

There is much confusion in the resource material She cast this way. Information on how She was conceived, and what She meant to peoples of the past is often meagre. Scholarly rendition of Her qualities and attributes is frequently conflicting. The names of ancient countries, their changing boundaries, names of peoples, their beliefs, languages, language affiliations, etc., comprise so voluminous a mass of muddled material as to make a Psychean labor of accurate sorting. Additionally there is little estimated dating among mythologists so it is difficult to tell when one conception of Her rose to pre-eminence absorbing the attributes and names, as titles, of local, less comprehensive forms of Herself. Nor is it easy to follow the reduction and dissipation of the Great Goddess into seductive-nymphs, magic-wielding enchantresses, mythical mortal adjuncts to heroes, half malevolent sprites and fairies, bloodsucking demonesses and spirits of evil in which mutilated forms some knowledge of Her was retained under the onslaught of patriarchy. For all these reasons poetic liberties have sometimes been taken.

At Her recommendation, under Her direction, and sustained as it seems by Her matronage, three hundred and sixty-six concepts of Herself were chosen and phonetically arranged to honor the Mother of the circling year and the Instigator of all alphabets. May this perennial, urban, international, nonseasonal, non-agricultural calendar express some part of our planet's cultural history and pay respect to Her Who has been too much, too long, scorned and insulted when not simply unrecognized and unloved

Ah! life-evolving Goddess of consciousness, let it be that this work helps re-empower you. May You be refreshed and invigorated by the waterfall of Your names. Confusion to your enemies.
San Francisco

FOOTNOTE: three hundred and sixty six so there is a Goddess to Whom the extra day for the every fourth, or leap year, is dedicated.