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To Crazy Wisdom Community Journal’s Readers and Advertisers –
In the spirit of responding in a practical way to what is happening, we have postponed the publishing of our Spring/Summer Issue (May thru August 2020 – Issue #75) due to all the reverberations and fallout from the Covid-19 Pandemic. Our editorial content is all set to go, but so many of our advertisers are closed for business currently, and they’ve asked to postpone their advertisements. Additionally, so many of our 235 local/regional distribution spots are closed that we wouldn’t be able to distribute most of our 11,000-copy print run.
Features from our Winter 2020 Issue
There was a clear absence in Southeast Michigan for a Buddhist perspective on death and dying. Most large metropolitan areas in the West, by which I mean Europe and North and South America, offer Buddhist hospice services, both medical and nonmedical. At this point, Gentle Ground Hospice and Grief Support is nonmedical. We are also non-denominational. Secondly, our team has the experience and passion to help fill this void. Besides Buddhists, we cater to atheists, agnostics, Christian curious, anyone really. By the way, we will never try to convert anyone.
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Persistent daily pain is a diagnosis that has unfortunately increased over the past decade in this country. Sometimes the source is known, but oftentimes, the etiology remains a mystery. As physicians, we wondered why some patients skate through life with very little pain and why others find themselves reaching for the Advil every day.
As I got older, plants again became teachers. First tobacco, then cannabis introduced me to non-ordinary states through ritualized breath. Smoking was never just consumption for me; it was relational. Breaking apart the plant, lighting it, inhaling and exhaling with intention—these acts shaped my nervous system and my awareness.
Unless we spend time exploring the underlying causes of our stress, ultimately nothing will change. A yoga practice can help us do just that. One of the gifts of yoga is that it helps us cultivate greater self-awareness. By getting on your yoga mat, you are taking time to slow down, be mindful, and see what you can learn about your body. With ongoing practice, you are better able to listen to your body and give it what it needs on a daily basis.
My audacity regarding the possibility of AI becoming an existential threat to our species does not spring from my extremely limited understanding of its current capabilities, nor from any reassuring foreknowledge of its future evolution. Neither does it arise from a profoundly misanthropic, I-couldn’t-care-less view vis a vis my fellow human beings. While I will admit to a blood red No Vacancy sign eternally lit in the bottom of my heart for some members of our species, (I know you know who you are, and I know you don’t care a whit about how I feel about you) but “good riddance” regarding my fellow human beings in toto? Absolutely not.
I have been a happy habitant of Southeast Michigan for more than 15 years now, and we are blessed to have many metaphysical stores in our corner of the state. Each is filled with warm, welcoming people who are eager to help anyone on their personal spiritual journey. Join me as I visit five of them.
In the early 2000s, co-owners Marcia Stroko, Patricia Barrett, and Sharon Stroko were inspired by cultural anthropologist Angeles Arrien to create a place where guests could focus on self-development. In a January 2006 guest book entry, guest F. Rowe shared, “Thank you for having such a wonderful atmosphere in your home inn and surroundings,” thereby recognizing that Rustic Gate is not only a space for visitors, but also a family home
Daniel DeSena is a social worker and psychotherapist who has become active in leading male embodiment and self-mastery workshops locally, and also nationally on Zoom. He is passionate about the intersection of spirituality, meditation, energy work, martial arts, sexuality and embodiment. He and his twin sister, and younger brother, were raised in the Pittsburgh area. Now 52, he’s been in southeastern Michigan for 30+ years.
Posts from our Blog
Recently I went to the PTO Thrift Shop on South Industrial in Ann Arbor, and parked way in the back next to the railroad tracks. Returning to my car, I spotted a feral, long-haired orange cat perched on a piece of discarded concrete. We were only eight feet apart, but there was so much brush and junk between us that she felt safe enough to stay where she was.
The first person who called me “Mom,” was born over half a century before me.
His name was Raymond. Deemed unable to make his own decisions, he became an adult ward of the state after his parents and close relatives passed. Unlike a child who learns whom to call mother, Ray asked my permission. When I paused, he explained with choppy speech and teary eyes that he missed his mom and knew it was pretend.
Then came the day when I got home from work and found just a few shreds of mangled stems and leaves. One of the groundskeepers had managed to find the only healthy green plant in sight on that early spring day, and he decided it must be a weed. (Even though it was inside my patio fence at the base of a trellis for the vines to climb on!)
One type of activity I’ve been thinking a lot about lately is something I’ve decided to start calling “Rituals of Care”—those activities we do that include a certain care component—that is some aspect of the labor that feeds into something greater than what it does, in a practical, applied sense, for you.
As I turned back to my book, I heard a tap on the window. I stiffened, imagining an ominous creature lurking outside, knocking on the pane. Just as I relaxed, assuring myself the wind was blowing rain against the glass, there was another tap. With caution, I approached the window and peered out into the storm. Lightning flashed, illuminating the face of my friend. Smiling, I opened it to let him in. Instead, he encouraged me to follow him out, into the storm.
While delicate and beautiful, ice is powerful and merciless. Trees bent under the increasing weight, resembling our own huddled bodies as we snuggled under quilts. We gasped at the sound of wood groaning and splitting, and we watched a large branch fall to the frozen ground below. Tiny twigs snapped and tumbled toward the arms of their mother branch, scattering ice across the yard. Raising our gaze to the top of a giant cherry, we studied the space where the large branch let go, looking for other branches that might follow.
This popular missionary saint is best known for introducing Christianity to pagan Ireland during the 5th century AD. I thought it would be interesting ask the Irish Fae (aes sidhe) for their viewpoint on the massive cultural changes resulting from Patrick’s work, which disrupted ancient relationships between humans and the many species of fae folk.
Inspired by Louisa May Alcott's 'I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship' from Little Women, reflections on my Polish grandmother's enduring wisdom, sewing as mending metaphor, family moments in snowy February, and finding hope amid change and loss.
Shelly Smith had been building toward her one woman show for years, but it wasn’t until the night before it opened that she completed it. “I booked the date, then I knew I had to finish it,” Smith explained. “It was not done ‘til literally those last 24 hours, as I was fine tuning it.”
After 32 years of marriage, I discovered how The 5 Love Languages—acts of service, words of affirmation, physical touch, quality time, and gifts—deepen connection. From sunroof surprises to quiet dances, real stories of love that lasts.
It’s easy to believe we are protected, loved, and supported by the divine when life is going well. But what about when we are treading in troubled waters and the tides threaten to sweep us out to sea? Thrashing in the waves, struggling to stay above water, sucked into the deep, our breath catching in our lungs— and the darkness finally overtakes us. That’s a different story. So, how do we keep the faith even when we feel abandoned?