Capricorn: The Sea Goat
A look back at some highlights from our debut issue.
Original Capricorn watercolor by Read Gallo.
December 22 - January 20
This first year of bringing Dharma Direction to life has been such an adventure! Thank you for your support… for reading the essays, articles, and stories crafted by our dedicated tribe every month. We truly appreciate your time and the fact that you choose to spend some of it with us.
Everyone at Dharma Direction is thrilled for 2023! In our efforts to produce and deliver our growing brand of content, Dharma Direction will be relocating from our current host (Squarespace) to a new and exciting host called Substack on January 20, 2023 for the next issue: Aquarius, The Water Bearer.
Our core tribe will be back …
Debbie Abbott (Angels), Colleen Markley (Humor), Candy Lesher (Culinary Wellness), and L.J. Longo (Fantasy Romance) — along with rotating pieces from other creative souls who also believe that achieving dharma is as easy as going with the flow.
Current subscribers will continue to receive each issue, delivered to their email (via Substack) without interruption.
NEW THINGS to look for on Substack in 2023:
*Audio options for listening to each article/essay/story/poem in addition to reading the text versions.
* Goodreads book reviews and recommendations.
* Guest articles
* Podcasts
* Merchandise from the Dharma Direction online store
* And more Surprise Bonus Content!
You never know.
When angels conspire to bring two people together you can believe they have a good reason. When they decide to throw your dumbass in jail for not listening to them, you've only got two people to blame… yourself, and Fate.
OK, fate isn't a person, per se, but fate is a powerful energy constantly swirling to move us toward dharma— the soul's desire.
Angels exist to spark love…
Love for purpose.
Love for self.
Love for others… even when their methods are disguised as misery.
One For The Road
On a frigid January night in 2000, I was singing one of my karaoke standards, Close To You by The Carpenters, when I noticed that the guy running the show was walking out the front door of the bar. He was my sort-of-boyfriend, so when thirty minutes passed by and he didn't return, I asked his assistant where he'd gone. If the guy knew, he wasn't telling me.
Pissed off and losing my buzz, I told my friends I was leaving. It was better if I wasn't there when the "karaoke king" came back. I've been known to toss a drink in more than one man's face. But, they begged me to stay.
Have one more drink, they said. Sing one more song, they said.
I hate disappointing people. "Fine," I said. "Make it a hot coffee with a shot of Bailey's Irish Cream. And put me down for Zombie by The Cranberries."
Now, I didn't know what kind of surprise the angels were stirring up that Tuesday night. Looking back it's easy to see how the influence of Hanael, Archangel of Love and Fidelity— who reigns over the Capricorn dates— came into play. Hanael is, after all, known as a protector and a teacher.
I would never have guessed that a random conversation I'd had at work with the wife of an attorney— about what to say and do if you ever get arrested— would save me from a suspended driver's license. My sneaky angels had dropped those seedy breadcrumbs for me months before this night, knowing I'd need that information someday.
The Pivot of Fate
Often wrapped like presents of stupidity, fated decisions are nonetheless pivotal moments in our lives.
One wrong decision can push you off a cliff that you never saw coming. That is how I felt, like I was freefalling through time, the moment I saw police lights bouncing red and distorted into my rearview mirror.
When I had left the bar, I'd been fairly confident the caffeine had sobered me up for the drive (in spite of that Bailey's shot). I was mostly right.
The opposing planetary energies of Venus and Saturn, however, were stronger than the bitter bar-coffee. Capricorn is heavily influenced by Saturn, a very determined force. Combine that with the loving presence of Venus, and all I could do was accept my fate.
The voice of my guardian angel whispered inside my head: Remember, don't take the field sobriety test. Don't take the breath analysis test. Ask politely for a blood test, and say nothing more.
As calmly as possible, I did all those things. I remained mute when the handcuffs click-click-clicked around my wrists. I said nothing during the 10-minute ride to the closest hospital. I looked straight ahead, lips closed, as we sat side-by-side under the ER’s bright fluorescent lights waiting to have my blood drawn.
The policeman had pulled me over for two reasons: driving 42 in a 35mph zone. And, for making a wide right turn. In other words, I had turned from the inside right lane into the middle lane. At one o'clock in the afternoon, nobody would ever get pulled over for either of those minor grievances. But at 1:00 a.m. on a Wednesday, they're perfect reasons to give an officer just cause.
Everything Happens For a Reason
The angels knew that I wasn't a criminal, and my bloodwork results eventually revealed that the alcohol in my system was under the legal limit. I could've still been charged with a DUI, had I given the policeman any other evidence of intoxication.
To be safe, I hired my ex-husband's criminal attorney, and the charges against me were eventually reduced to reckless driving. As the single mother of a teenager, I couldn't afford to lawyer-up without getting a second job. And that is where I met my soulmate.
Turns out, we'd both been working at the same Five-Star resort for two years— crossing paths yet never meeting formally. He'd only recently left the posh property for a promotion at a new upscale restaurant in Scottsdale. He was working in the kitchen, and I was hired as a server. I fell in love with his laugh before I ever met him.
We've been together 22 years now, and will celebrate our 18th anniversary on January 23rd.
Some people would think that getting arrested is the worst thing that could ever happen to them. Going through the shame, the self-anger, the guilt, the extra work of a second job, and the humiliation of having to call my 17-year-old daughter to pick me up from jail was awful. I never want to experience that trauma again. But, I am thankful that the angels were guiding, protecting, and teaching me every step of the way.
The reward of meeting the love of my life far outweighs the penance paid for the mistake I made.
What About the Karaoke Guy?
Two years later, I bumped into that former sort-of-boyfriend at an event I had coordinated for the magazine publisher I was now working for. The fiend smiled at me from across the room. I smiled and walked toward him like Jessica Rabbit: I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way.
Before he could say anything, I said, "I was really hoping I'd see you again, someday, because I want to thank you for being such an asshole."
His greasy smile slid off his face, leaving behind a smeared look of shock and confusion. I explained my gratitude to him.
"If you hadn't left me at the bar that night, I would never have gotten arrested. I would never have had to hire a lawyer. I would never have had to get a second job. And I would never have met my fiancé. Thank you for serving that purpose in my life."
I don't know how he really felt about what I said. He appeared dumbfounded and I swear I could hear every word he thought about saying hit the floor like so many pins.
I walked away just like Jessica Rabbit again, grinning at how everything had worked out. And I thanked the angels for the blessing of divine timing and for being by my side the entire way.
Debbie Abbott is a former managing editor for an upscale food and lifestyle print magazine from Scottsdale, Arizona. She now spends as much time as possible working on her debut novel and sharing accounts of her life through her website and as publisher and editor of Dharma Direction.
Connect with Debbie on Facebook, through Debbie's Twitter page or visit Debbie on Instagram.
Audio Visual Art: Angel Hanael
Digital artist Peter Mohrbacher treats viewers this month to a time-lapse look into his creative process of digital painting. Find Peter’s work at Angelarium.net.
Watch time: 5 minutes
Original music by Thomas Ferko; more on soundcloud.com/eidolonorpheus
I planned it this way.
Humor: “Goat or G.O.A.T.”
~ The Ups & Downs of Loving a Capricorn ~
Personal Essay by Colleen Markley
Read time: 9 minutes
I've loved my Capricorn hubby for more than 30 years. Since I'm (only) 46, this means I've spent the majority of my life loving Brian in varied stages—
as starry-eyed high school sweethearts
as newlyweds
as parents of newborns/toddlers/tweens/teens getting ready to launch into the world
My kids are now older than I was when I started dating their dad, which they tell me is crazy. And they don't care 10 seconds later because they are teenagers… and they're not supposed to care about their parents.
This is developmentally appropriate, I remind my logical husband as he observes our kids doing teenager things.
I watch him suck the entire planet's atmosphere into his lungs— and exhale with a sigh as loud as an asteroid crash.
Born for This
Capricorns find illogical things extremely disconcerting.
Brian's entire world is disconcerting these days, as we have two teens, aging parents, an old dog doing his best to beat cancer, and me: a moony, moody, emotional, perimenopausal, midlife-crisis, astrological Cancer crab.
It's a miracle he's so grounded, but that's his astrological sign. He was literally born for this.
Depicted as sea goats, Capricorns are earthy and pragmatic goats on top, but emotional fish beneath the surface.
Brian plans life just like a goat climbing a sheer rock face— every step is planned and executed with precision and care. I’ve always been fascinated by the bravery required to be this animal— I cringe watching videos as the goats scale a craggy cliff. There is no whimsy or doubt or distracting emotion allowed in this space.
The astrological sea goat, however, is pretty much hoping that you don’t notice those watery emotions beneath the surface, and will try to repress any "feelings stuff" that gets in the way of the tasks.
Capricorns want to do things well, but not just for themselves...
They want to hand the world— wrapped in a bow— to those they love.
Just trust the goat will be the G.O.A.T.— Greatest of All Time, as they execute everything perfectly and precisely.
Meant to be Together
I met Brian when we were in tenth grade. He sat among his friends in the back of English class and goofed around enough to force Mrs. Heary to move their seats so they weren’t all together egging each other on.
At fifteen, I was quiet and did my best not to speak up in class. I didn’t want to remind anyone I was the nerdy girl who read the book the first night and had to be told where everyone else was so I didn’t keep spoiling the endings.
Mrs. Heary moved me right in front of Brian.
His friends were on the other side of the room and couldn’t hear him, so he whispered jokes and silly things to just me, making me break out in laughter at very inappropriate times in class.
While most teenage boys talked about themselves or their friends, Brian told me about his family. He drew me a picture of his family tree so I could keep everyone straight, including his great-grandfather who left Italy and came to America to seek revenge after a fierce duel with a rival. (For what it’s worth, it was a tavern fight, not a planned formal event, like another duel I know took place on the cliffs of Weehawken).
Whether it was a sword fight or a knife fight is in dispute, but it is confirmed family lore that Brian’s ancestor lost the tip of his nose in the mayhem.
Furious, he packed up his wife and got on a boat for America, where he’d heard the rival had fled. He searched several cities before finally settling in New Jersey, in Newark’s first ward.
Brian thought this was a determined man defending his honor. I found Brian and his stories fascinating, and wondered if he’d want to travel the globe to seek revenge as well.
Our relationship has always been a centering force in my life. Sometimes that center is like the eye of a hurricane, gazing into Brian’s sea green eyes with little flecks of gold glinting like sunshine and holding tight while the world rages around us.
Other times I can rage at him with such intensity it makes a hurricane look like a welcoming summer breeze. I’m quite capable of demonstrating my love for him, and anger at him, with equal intensity.
For Better or For Worse
Sometimes I make Brian feel like the center of the universe, and other times he fears my wrath like I’m a fire-breathing dragon.
Sitting on the couch one night, we were watching Game of Thrones when Daenerys Targaryen toasted King’s Landing, which prompted me turn to Brian and say “That’s probably how you feel sometimes when I get mad at you, huh?”
I have the power of emotions for better or for worse, and he’s signed up for the full spectrum of the good and the bad. I might rage like a dragon, but Brian can be as stubborn as an ass.
When we are in conflict, I treat him more like a scapegoat. Brian is logical, diplomatic, a responsible leader. He’s a wicked smart attorney and was on one of those 40 Under 40 lawyer lists for something super important.
I’m emotional, let intuition guide my decision-making, and respond to his rational worries about his insomnia with requests like:
“If you wake up at 3 a.m. and the moon is out and pretty... can you please wake me?”
Neither of us sleep well now that we’re in our mid-forties. If I’d known this was a midlife thing, I would have appreciated more fully the decent sleep we had for five minutes between newborns/toddlers and waiting for new drivers to get home by curfew.
Brian considers if he should try more of my herbal remedies or refill his prescription for Ambien. He worries about being tired the next day, wanting to be fresh and alert for the world and work.
I wonder if we can bring back the Victorian habit of visiting in the middle of the night, looking for who else has placed a candle in the window and might like to chat in the moonlight.
I often poke fun at our midlife crises and managing them well. Brian’s been in a great habit of working out and eating healthy. Building on the skills he learned from his days catering in college, he’s become an incredible cook. We joke that he’s channeling his Italian-American grandmother as he makes sure we enjoy each meal. His attention to our contentment is legendary (almost to the point of irritation when he asks four times if we want extra sauce, which he is right, does make the meal).
The Capricorn Caretaker
Brian is a caretaker on all fronts. He made a point to sit down with the finance people and talk about our investments and outlooks and...
how to make sure we can pay for college
and pay off the mortgage
and have enough leftover so he can retire
and spend time fishing (which he will then gut and clean and cook to feed me)
I tagged along to the finance meeting and told the suits to speak slowly and use small words since I went to film school. I then told them I thought we should invest in ESG funds and be more socially responsible.
Brian’s idea of a life plan was linear and sensible. He met each milestone exactly as he intended:
Do well in college
Go to a great law school
Work his ass off and make partner at his law firm
Buy excess life insurance and hire experts for solid financial planning
I looked at those plans as a means to travel the world. I thought he’d love to travel, since his great-grandfather was such a wanderer. I bought a world map with pushpins and dreamt of visiting every continent. Brian wasn’t against the idea of me spending a significant portion of that big law salary on traveling and he thought it would be great for our kids to have exposure to the world.
He researched cultural excursions and immersive experiences. I let him plan for the kids. And told him I had other plans for the two of us in as many countries as possible. Even cold country-less places like Antarctica (where I might want to leave on my socks).
He stumbled for just a moment before he collected himself, and told me, “First of all, on the merits, I love that idea.”
Despite my dreamy Cancer astrological sign, I’m also a super planner. In keeping with my sun sign, those plans are mostly about homey and family-related things.
I have described to Brian the vision I have for the rest of our lives together, including how we die in 2076, at the age of 101, holding hands on the front porch swing. It will be in July, right after we finish celebrating our country’s 300th birthday, and my 101st.
It’s bizarre to think about being alive for a third of a country’s official history. It’s also bizarre that Brian puts up with me and all my fantastical dreams and plans, including a timed departure from Earth.
If I told him I was arranging for aliens to pick us up, he’d be just as receptive as he is to my “one, two, three, die” porch swing suggestion.
His first question was how we’d be able to decide to die at a particular time. I smiled and hugged him and told him that I had full faith he’d be able to follow my plan; he always accomplishes everything he sets his mind to.
I'm a Crab who married a Goat. Lucky for me, he is the G.O.A.T.
Colleen Markley is a novelist and freelance writer living in New Jersey. Her award-winning essay “Unflappably Calm, Occasionally Furious, Ready and Willing to Hide the Bodies” was recently published in Sisters! Bonded by Love and Laughter. Colleen’s essays and humor have appeared in multiple anthologies in print and various magazines online. Named the June 2021 winner of the Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop Humor Writer of the Month, Colleen attempts to be funny every month as a regular contributor riffing on the zodiac for Dharma Direction. Her novel-in-progress, Lilith Land, is a story about the end of the world where only the women survive. (It’s a novel, not an action plan).
Find her at www.ColleenMarkley.com or sign up here for her newsletter and updates.
Visit Colleen on Instagram, see what’s up on her Facebook, or shout-out to Colleen on Twitter.
New moves.
Culinary Wellness: “Get Moving Pancakes”
Article and Recipe by Chef and Wellness Coach, Candy Lesher
Read time: 3 minutes + Recipe
Born a Capricorn, I always assumed everyone felt responsible for the well-being of others and motivated to help them achieve a personal best. It took decades to realize that specific driving personality aspect is actually a gift for Capricorns to give to their fellow zodiac signs. How exciting to realize, us Capricorns can impact the life of those around us when they need it most— in January!
Yep— just when everyone is trying to decide which healthy New Year's Resolutions to keep this time of year, the motivated coach in me can offer a solution to lessen the pain of reaching that new health level.
“Get Moving Pancakes”
The name alludes to multiple things...
Get moving to lower your cholesterol
Get moving and prepare a bulk batch for quicker morning prep
Get “moving” meaning keep your body regular
Because of their high protein and fiber, they also keep you moving physically for hours without energy slumps or gnawing hunger pangs.
If you add the optional cinnamon, you're also helping stabilize blood sugar while adding a lovely fragrant character.
A combination of easily assembled ingredients, these pancakes are quick to prepare, especially if you make ahead a bulk batch of the dry ingredients. My most successful clients enjoy them multiple times a week, and like me, can't imagine life without them.
Best part is, they're totally versatile.
Don't like pea protein powder? Use whey, hemp or egg white based protein powders.
Not big on pumpkin or applesauce? Use berry, sweet potato, or carrot puree.
Not a fan of oat flour? Try finely ground (organic please) corn meal (so delish).
Bottom line, New Year's Resolutions can be daunting, but if you'll try adding just one healthy new lifestyle change to this upcoming Capricorn-season routine, you may start feeling so good that daily New Year's Resolution walk goes from daunting to delightful!
Get Moving Pancake - photo by Candy Lesher
Insider’s Tip
Packed with protein and fiber, these easy-to-make pancakes will hold you for hours. Top them with the tasty Applesauce Glaze recipe I've included below and you're adding additional fruit and fiber nutrition.
Recipe: Get Moving Pancake
Makes one single pancake (as shown in photo above)
Ingredients: for single pancake
2 Tablespoons Pea Protein Powder (Vanilla seems to work best)
1 Tablespoon oat flour (blend rolled or steel cut oats in blender until like flour)
1/2 Tablespoon psyllium powder (organic if possible)
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon, or spice blend (optional)
2 Tablespoons pumpkin puree, applesauce, or other fruit puree
1 large egg, beaten
1/4 – 1/3 cup milk, nut milk, oat milk or plain yogurt
1-2 teaspoons avocado oil (optional)
Method:
1. Preheat a heavy non-stick skillet over medium heat (about 250 degrees).
2. In a small bowl, whisk together the protein powder, psyllium powder and oat flour, plus optional spice if desired. In a separate container, whisk together the fruit puree, egg and milk of choice.
3. Drizzle a small amount of avocado oil onto the hot skillet. Whisk the egg/milk mixture into the dry mix, stirring quickly and well. If the batter is too thick, add a few tablespoons of water (your type of protein powder will affect this so an exact measurement isn't possible). Batter should be just thin enough to pour. Stir quickly though because the psyllium powder thickens fast!
4. Pour onto the hot skillet. If needed, gently spread to make an even pancake.
5. Cook until the bottom is medium gold. Carefully flip the pancake and continue cooking until golden. Enjoy with a spread of applesauce topping (recipe below), or your favorite fruit.
Easy-Peasy Applesauce Glaze
Fastest, easiest, and most delicious apple “glaze” for your pancakes – oh – and it's pretty healthy, too, with no added sugar! This makes a big batch, so cool it down and store what you won't need right away into zip-lock bags, then freeze (flat, for easier thawing).
Applesauce Ingredients:
4 pounds Granny Smith apples- peeled, cored and sliced (for variety– use half apples & half pears)
2 teaspoons cinnamon (more or less to taste)
1 Tablespoon fresh ginger, grated OR 2 teaspoons dried (more or less to taste)
8 ounces frozen, concentrated (sugar free) apple juice, thawed (Granny Smith if you can find)
Method:
1. Combine all ingredients in a large Dutch oven. Bring to a simmer, cover and cook until apples are very tender and falling apart, stirring occasionally.
2. Mash gently with a potato masher. Cool and put into a non-porous container and refrigerate until ready to use.
Bulk Batch Recipe
Ingredients: for bulk batch
4 cups Pea Protein Powder (Vanilla seems to work best)
1 and 1/4 cups psyllium powder (organic if possible)
2 cups oat flour (blend rolled or steel cut oats in blender until like flour)
2 Tablespoons cinnamon or other sweet spice blend (optional)
Method: for bulk batch
1. Combine all dry ingredients into a bowl. Whisk thoroughly, and store in an airtight container.
2. When you're ready to use, measure out 3 Tablespoons dry mix and combine with one egg, 2 Tablespoons fruit puree and 1/4 – 1/3 cup milk.
3. Proceed with #'s 3-5 in the Single Pancake method above.
As a Culinary Wellness Coach, Candy Lesher doesn't simply sit on the sidelines and coach, she's right in the game with her clients. As a chef she openly admits weight is an occupational health hazard, so she engages in that daily battle also. As a Stage III cancer survivor, she knows the importance of feeding your body the nutrients it needs to fight off illness—and function at its very best.
Connect with Candy on LinkedIn or visit her website at YourKitchenRX.com
Tails from the sea.
Original Capricorn watercolor by Read Gallo.
Romance: “Coast of Goats”
Fantasy Fiction by L.J. Longo
Read time: 9 minutes
Content Warning: mild language
Old man Erikson’s goats, bred for their fluffy white wool and their creamy milk, but not their ability to swim, are left to wander the sea shore because they cause less trouble there. Stephen Carrigan, a man bred to wear Armani suits and swear as only a New Yorker can, makes his way along the pebbly ground for similar reasons.
“Can’t believe. She would… kiss—” He delivers a litany of words, mostly foul, but none with as much sheer vitriol as this last. “Plaid.”
The goats, mouths full of seaweed, are indifferent.
The plaid-wearer, referred to as “Little Emmie’s first boyfriend” by all her family, had blended in seamlessly with the brothers and the butter cookies. A quaint relic of Emma’s life before the city and ridiculously unsuited to the woman she had become. The woman he was going to marry.
“After I drove all the way out to this god-forsaken—”
Stephen swears again and the goats move as one salty cloud away from the explosion of words. Indignant that their silent night has been shattered.
On the phone, Emma had sounded so disappointed. He was going to miss the Christmas Eve flight, because of a surprise meeting with the Japanese partners.
When the talk of promotion became an offer, Stephen amused everyone by leaving early to drive nearly 10 hours to tell her in person… 10 hours to see her kissing her plaid-wearing ex-boyfriend on Christmas Eve.
Her whole family is laughing at the “New York” boy now. Emma would be laughing the hardest with that full-throated glee that only her brothers and maybe the plaid-wearer could inspire. Her family had discovered they could put “New York” in front of anything and call it a joke. “New York” suit. “New York” shoes. “New York” fiancée.
How long had there been a Hometown boyfriend?
Stephen slips on the slick pebbles. His oxfords— a rich dark brown to go with his festive olive-green suit— are not designed for moss and ice and refuse to grip the ground. But Stephen, fiercely unwilling to fall, flaps his arms, flails his legs and almost catches his balance. Several times. In the end, he slide-skates until the foamy sand interrupts the ice. Then he falls face-first to the beach.
He stays down, silent and sorrowful.
When was the last time he fell? A ice skating rink as a child? Drunk in college? Only Emma had the power to make him fall. Only Emma could disorder his life. Only Emma could make him lie face down on a beach, breathing in the cold stones.
Out of place and in pain.
The family hadn’t noticed him through the window. All attention had been on Emma, under the mistletoe. But it wasn’t supposed to be a kiss like that. Not arm-around-her-waist, toes-off-the-floor, tongue-parting-lips… kiss.
The thundering waves vibrate through his bones, and a goat paws near his head. Stephen sighs accepting the absurdity.
In the shimmer of the ice and moonlight, Stephen sees his own future. The bitter betrayal will haunt his joy. Once he walks back to that stupid town, he will call Japan and accept the offer. He will drive the rental car back to the city. Leave behind this people-less place, the unwelcomeness of the small town. Then he will leave New York City before Emma returns. He’ll never call her. He’ll change his number. Never forgive her. The ultimate ghosting. She’ll wonder for years what became of him, what she’d lost.
And he would never love again.
“That’s a bit hasty don’t you think?” An old voice, watery and untried, but steady and sure of itself breaks the silence.
Sitting as he would for the Japanese partners, Stephen is startled but filled with cool, stiff-backed control when he answers. “Yeah. Walking on the beach after midnight at the end of December? It serves me right falling on my ass.”
There is no one around. No one but the goats.
“No. Never forgiving her. Never loving again.”
Stephen tilts his head and studies a goat splashing in the surf. Sea-weed dangles from its blunt teeth and its dull eyes look into the distance above the man sitting on the sand. It is huge and white and soggy and… is that a fish’s tail?
“Huh,” Stephen blinks. “What the fuck are you? A mer-goat?”
“Capricorn.” The slit eyes focus on Stephen and… it’s like Stephen worked his whole life, like he had given his whole life, to create a perfect presentation about his life for this goat-thing and it was not impressed. “Don’t jump to conclusions. Especially, when you know you won’t back down from them.”
“She was making out with her ex! What other conclusion could there possibly be?”
The Capricorn snorts and looks over at a collection of rocks. “Emma comes down here when she’s angry, too. She sits on those rocks and cries when her brothers tease her. She talks about running away and living in the Natural History Museum.”
Stephen tucks his legs into his chest and pouts. “We go on dates to the Natural History Museum.”
“Good.” The goat bleats with pleasure. “We approve of you.”
The other goats stamp on the pebbles.
“It goes against your nature.” The big Capricorn speaks over the stamping. “It isn’t practical. But face your humiliation and don’t punish yourself to punish her.”
Stephen glares at the Capricorn and all the other goats. “I don’t need the approval or the advice of mer-goats.”
The goat shrugs and flops into the tide, where it sinks away without another baa. The other goats— the more normal ones bred by Farmer Erikson— grow agitated and trot away as one floofy mass.
That’s when Stephen sees Emma. She trips over the stones in an angry ballet, bundled against the cold, and pushing against the crowd of goats. Small and shivering with fury in the moonlight.
From under the night-time water, the Capricorn's words bubble up: “Love, like all worthy goals, is hard. Don’t give up.”
Stephen rises and brushes the pebbles from his suit pants.
“Stephen?” For a moment, she looks like a doll, all wide-eyed and innocent. “Stephen?”
“Hi, Emma.”
She laughs, her full-throated glee, and dashes across the rocks to crash into his arms.
Stephen is startled. Her affection doesn’t pair with the angry knot of rage of humiliation.
“Oh, I’m so glad your here.” Emma hugs him tightly.
“I… what are you doing on the beach, Emma?”
Her giddy delight disappears into a sour face. “Heading for the town, so I could rent a car and drive home. Probably call you— Oh, did your meeting end early?”
Meeting. What meeting? Oh yes, that’s right. His life had been altered irrevocably 10 hours ago and he hadn’t gotten a chance to tell her yet. “Why are you driving— it’s Christmas Eve, Emma. Your family—”
“— are a bunch of—” Emma does not swear, so she takes a breath and explains very primly: “My ex got handsy under the mistletoe, so I hit him.”
Stephen resists the urge to smile. “That son of a bitch. I’d kill him myself.”
“Eh, he’s not worth the price of a defense lawyer,” Emma answers. “But get this. Tommy got mad at me for hitting his friend. Can you believe that? And then Mom lost her temper because I’m starting fights with my brothers. So I’m ruining the holiday and Dad—”
She holds up her hand interrupting herself, “Anyways, we’re driving back tonight.”
“Let’s get a hotel in the town. Let you cool down tonight and try to get along in the morning.”
“That’s a good plan,” she nods. “You know what’s a better plan, we go home.”
He threads his arm in hers, grateful when she cuddles into him. In a moment, he will tell her his good news about Japan, about how she will miss her idiot parents and her stupid brothers and this god-forsaken goat-infested beach.
For now, he enjoys the weight of her on his arm and says, “You know, it is the season to, you know, forgive people.”
Emma leaned away from him and looked up at him suspiciously. “Stephen Carrigan? What are you talking about? Did you hit your head?”
“No. I just…” Stephen looked out at the ocean where there wasn’t even a ripple of tail. “Just give them the benefit of the doubt. Love isn’t, you know, always easy.”
L.J. Longo is an award-winning Romance author, a queer geek and feminist writing a medley of dark romance (which can be found through Evernight Publishing), magical realism, weird sci-fi/fantasy, and very implausible creative non-fiction. She recently received Third Place recognition for her submission to the Writer’s Digest Annual Short Story Fiction Contest with her entry titled, "To Harvest Lavender." Coming Soon: LJs queer fiction, “The Stranded Sky Castle” will be featured in the Alpha Male anthologies from Evernight Publishing.
Connect to L.J. on Facebook, L.J.'s Twitter page, or L.J. on Instagram.
Poet-Tree
In the debut issue of January 2022, we hadn’t yet conceived of a monthly poetry department. Nor had we introduced…
The Reading Dingy
A place for the Dharma Direction tribe to share the books they love with our audience.
Both of these departments will be part of our new platform on Substack, returning in the Aquarius issue on 01.20.23
Music
“While my heart is a shield and I won’t let it down / While I am so afraid to fail, so I won’t even try / Well, how can I say I’m alive?”
“Life for Rent” by Dido
Singer/Songwriter, Capricorn birthday: December 25, 1971
Playlist: Capricorn
In revisiting this Capricorn issue, we’ve taken the liberty of switching out a photo or two here and there from the original layout in order to “freshen up” our stories just a bit. In the same regard, I’ve rotated some of our songs choices out of that first Capricorn playlist and replaced them with a new mix, while keeping a few of the original selections.
Please enjoy Dharma Direction’s playlist for Capricorn. Keep in mind that the playlist on YouTube changes each month to focus on the current Zodiac. This month’s songs are listed below ~
“I’m No Angel” - Dido
“Happy Dance” - Mercy Me
“Pour Me” - Trick Pony
“Bones” - Imagine Dragons
“Time After Time” - P!nk (Cyndi Lauper cover)
“Perfect” - Ed Sheeran
“My Way” - Elvis Presley
“God Only Knows” - For King & Country, ft. Dolly Parton
“ How Can You Mend a Broken Heart” - The Bee Gees
“Annie’s Song” - John Denver
“I Am a Rock” - Simon & Garfunkel
Color Therapy: Capricorn
FREE Downloadable/Printable — just get your crayons, pencils, pastels, or paints and right-click the image below.
Capricorn People
