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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.
Posts from our Blog
I warmly invite you to choose a word that describes something you’d like to focus on or move toward in the coming year. How would you like to show up in the world, and what word could help you to move in that direction?
Today, I am joined by three representatives of these secretive hidden peoples. Will you introduce yourselves, please?
“War is Peace” is one of the three slogans in 1984 by George Orwell. The antithetical idea has long been utilized by governments around the world. The essence: people unite against a common foreign enemy. However, what to do when no one else in the world will play war? Or if there is no perceivable direct threat to one’s country? The next step is to divide within to control the masses. How best to create division? Step 1, create a threat. Step 2, blame a group by using generalities to incite fear. Step 3, discourage rational discussion and critical thinking.
Earlier this year I made my annual mammography visit to Trinity Health’s Women’s Health Center in Ypsilanti. On that particular morning, the sun beaming in the windows really lit up the healthy, beautiful plants at the entry. Inside the mammography suite, there are several beds of green Pothos plants with golden highlights, and every plant looks so vibrant and perfect that at first glance, you might think they are artificial. While I was waiting for my appointment, I realized that these lovely green beings were offering messages.
I see (in my mind) a very large Fox Squirrel sitting on a branch of a maple tree framed by a clear blue sky, its red-gold fur glistening in the sunshine. And I feel a deep wave of love-energy move through my body.
We practice for these times, for times like this in the world. We go to our mat, under our shawl, sit on our cushion, to find peace amid the rubble of grief, rage, and fear. We attend to our practice precisely so that when the tides of emotion are strong, so is our practice. We return again and again to our breath, to our body and mind in the moment, returning to ourselves. Our ancestors developed these practices because they knew—they knew that we could be swept off our feet by our emotions, our ability to choose wisely blinded by the redness of rage or the waters of our grief
A few years ago, during a major cicada emergence, I was visiting a friend who lived out of town. As I said my goodbyes and walked to my car, I thought I could hear singing off in the distance. There were no buildings within a mile, no vehicles blasting music, and it wasn’t coming from my phone, so I pulled my car over to the side of the road and turned off the engine to listen.
2020 was the year that taught me how to be patient. As part of an increasingly fast paced society, we get disappointed when our own progress/desires happen slower than the click of a button. This year, I really struggled with pushing for my own goals to manifest faster than they were, consistently seeing my efforts produce crumbs. It was like watching myself get punched in slow motion.
Features from our Winter 2020 Issue
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Winter invites us inward. As colder days settle over the landscape (especially here in Michigan), everything takes on a slower pace. Trees conserve energy. Animals burrow and rest. The air itself encourages stillness. As every living thing knows, true rest isn’t laziness, it’s nourishment. Winter gives us permission to soften, restore, and rebuild energy before spring arrives. Thankfully, there are so many lovely ways to incorporate rest and relaxation into your everyday routine.
The moon has a way of catching a child’s eye. It lingers above treetops, follows the car home, disappears for a few nights, then returns—quiet, steady, familiar. For parents, it’s a reminder to pause, to notice, and to reconnect with something simple yet deeply grounding: the rhythm of nature itself.
The buzz had been building for months about White Lotus Farms opening a Café, and by the time you’re reading this, it is open.
Folklore customs as well as generational practices for healing, heartbreak, and dealings with the mystical still abound. However, oral tradition of teaching family wisdom is dwindling, and family “books” for many have been reduced to genealogy charts and possibly a Bible in which obituaries or birth announcements are stuffed.
When two of the most talented and prolific musicians in Ann Arbor come together, the synergy of sound and sentiment is too beautiful to miss. “We’ve been writing words and melodies to express our love story in all of its depth and magic, with the goal of sharing it with you, our dearest ones, as we celebrate our union together.”
As we enter the late 2020s, the American Zen community is preparing for a changing of the guard. With many of today’s Western Zen teachers trained during the 1960s and 1970s, temples and teaching centers across the country are preparing to hand leadership to a new generation of students and enter a new era of American Zen Buddhism. For the first time, the leaders will be largely Western people who were taught by other Westerners in the late 20th century--not Westerners who were taught directly by Zen teachers from Asia.
Jeff Parness is full of stories; entertaining, detailed, and animated. But this story is about Parness and his newly built home in Ann Arbor. “This property saved my life. It was the clouds,” he told me. “I found this property as I was storm chasing.”
Twenty years ago, Stacie Sheldon and Margaret Noodin founded the website ojibwe.net in Ann Arbor, beginning the hard work of revitalizing Anishinaabemowin language, speakers, and culture. Their work is part of greater regional shift, which in 2025 saw Detroit’s first pow wow in thirty years, a major exhibit open at the Detroit Institute of Arts, and the arrival of Ann Arbor District Library’s mascot, Akako G. Shins (“little groundhog” in Ojibwe).
It came over me one morning. I dressed, and undressed, and redressed several times. Shirts and pants I had worn many times suddenly made me feel claustrophobic. The colors were good, the styles attractive. This wasn’t a “what do I want to wear?” indecisive moment. No, it was as if every shirt and pair of pants I tried, I felt like my skin couldn’t breathe—that I couldn’t breathe (and not because I had strawberry shortcake with morning coffee). I pulled at the necklines, the thighs, the abdomen. I fidgeted. I could feel confused grumpiness setting in.
Once I was settled, I “announced” that my new home was open to all. Now that I live next to the Huron River, fae who travel this natural highway have a safe place to rest for the night. I’ve been told that a sort of “welcome sign” which is visible only to non-humans is in front of my place.