2024 Edition No. 1
Publisher’s Note by Debbie Abbott
Hello again ~ we’ve missed you!
Like the two Dharma Direction Bonus Editions we brought to you last August and November, this first official quarterly edition includes a similar format. You can scroll down without subscribing, or … stop and subscribe for free if you like our vibe. If you’re already a subscriber—we thank you!
IN THIS ISSUE:
Behind the Green Door: listen or read Debbie Abbott’s first of four essays on celebrity serendipity, “A Street Faërie and a Psychodelic Zombie”
Best Medicine: listen to Colleen Markley read her humorous essay, “Real Life House Tours” (an updated revamp from her Yes, It Really Happened blog)
Story Art-in-Motion: relaxing video of watercolor artist Read Gallo painting to the words of LJ Longo reading her fantasy story, “Moonrise in The City”
The Reading Dingy: the books we love, are currently reading, or are stacking up in our TBR pile
The Ostara video playlist on The Muse-Sick YouTube channel: songs from Cree Summer’s album, Street Faërie along with other springtime selections
Behind The Green Door …
An Essay on Celebrity Serendipity - the first in a four-series installment
“A Street Faërie and a Psychodelic Zombie”
~ Listen to Debbie Abbott read her essay about never underestimating the power of a coincidence—something the angels call serendipity and divine timing—when she met singer/songwriter and actor, Cree Summer.
For those who prefer to read, here is the printed version ~
We often hear the expression, “There are two kinds of people …” which is then followed by an extreme example of opposing groups such as:
People who love animals and people who don’t. Or,
People who want children and people who don’t. Then there’s
People who believe in a higher ethereal authority and people who don’t.
For me, the dividing factor when it comes to separating humans into two groups is:
People who believe in serendipity and signs …
and people who think everything is a random coincidence.
Anyone who knows me, knows I’m planted firmly in the former group—among a realm of limitless possibility and guidance from our loving universe and all the ascended and enlightened beings who exist peacefully on the veil’s other side of our very heavy, three-dimensional world—waiting …
waiting for us to pick up the breadcrumbs they’ve scattered onto our path …
waiting for us to imagine that life is about more than we can see …
waiting for us to believe that benevolent forces are working on our behalf. Always.
If we choose to overlook the signs, our paths will veer through the brambles of life and we will trample the dandelions—delivered at our feet, waiting to grant wishes … if we will only ask.
Once upon a time, I met singer/songwriter and actor Cree Summer. It was October 30, 1999—the day before the Samhain holiday, a period most of us know as Halloween but also referred to as The Day of The Dead … the time when our long-gone ancestors gather near the veil.
Cree’s mother, Lili Red Eagle, is a member of the Plains Cree First Nations … the largest group of First Nations in Canada. I didn’t know anything about Cree’s heritage in 1999. All I knew was that her voice and music connected to my heart and soul like an ethereal thread.
That night, I was on a “date-not-date” with my second ex-husband. He’d scored some concert tickets for The Celebrity Theater in Phoenix, Arizona where we lived … to a show he knew I’d never say no to.
Cree Summer and her band were opening for the band Tonic at the theater in the round.
My ex knew how much I loved music in general … after all, while we were married, he and I even postponed our honeymoon an entire week due to the scheduling of a Van Halen concert that we just couldn’t miss.
Together, he and I often helped promote local Phoenix bands as well as regional groups we truly hoped would hit it big someday. One of those was a 10-piece band from Fort Collins, Colorado called The Psycholdelic Zombiez, who—along with their sound and light guys and a few roadies—would use our house as home base when they were in town or touring to nearby towns like Flagstaff and Winslow, Arizona (yes … that Winslow, Arizona).
You get to know people really well when they live with you, even if it is in spurts. And I got to know each of the Zombiez’ band members as if they were my own brothers.
You might think it was utter chaos living (in spurts, I emphasize again) with that many twenty- and thirty-somethings. At any given time, there were in excess of 20 people in our house, not to mention our friends who knew we basically had a revolving front door and a houseful of cool musicians.
But the Zombiez were incredible in every way from their musical talent to their songwriting chops to their very souls as humans on the planet. I loved them all.
Sidebar: I’ll be doing an in-depth retrospective about my adventures with The Psycholdelic Zombiez in a future issue of Dharma Direction.
Back to the Celebrity Theater in 1999 … of course I said yes to my ex.
Street Faërie – Cree’s debut (and, as far as I can find, only) album had been on permanent repeat in my car’s CD player since the day I bought it at Zia Records.
(I miss record stores.)
Her songs reached into my soul and plucked the ancient strings of my Native American heritage as well as my heartstrings … that had refused to snap, in spite of the trials and tribulations of my own personal past that Cree seemed to know all about and express through her songs.
Passing up the chance to feel the live resonance of Cree’s voice was ludicrous, even if it meant spending an evening with a man whose moral compass was constantly spinning out of control.
Being with my ex for a few hours would be worth seeing Cree, I was sure of it. So, I stuffed the Street Faërie CD into my purse hoping maybe she’d be signing autographs after the show like some performers do.
Our seats at the theater that night were in the first row. My ex was notorious for scoring amazing seats … and if he couldn’t buy them, he’d drag me to the first row anyway, looking for empty seats in the hopes that whoever bought the ones he intended to steal would decide not to come to the show. This didn’t always end well for us. Thankfully, this night, our seats matched our tickets, and I could relax and not worry that we were going to get kicked out before the show even started.
As people were milling in with cocktails in their hands, I was studying the stage set up. Designed as a theater in the round, the stage is a big rotating circle which means (IMHO) that every seat in the venue is a good one. The roadies were putting the instruments in place and one of them ran their fingers along the hanging chimes in the percussion area.
Breadcrumb … I knew that percussion setup!
I’d seen it in bars all over Tempe near Arizona State University. I’d even photographed it when the Zombiez were recording their album: S.A.C. (circa 1996) at the A&M Recording Studio in Hollywood, California where the greatest assembly of musical royalty sang “We Are the World” in 1985 as a supergroup called U.S.A. for Africa.
I grabbed my ex’s arm and started shaking him. “That’s Davey’s percussion setup! Oh my good lord! Davey is playing for Cree Summer!!!!”
The ex was skeptical until the band walked onstage, and Davey Chegwiddon took his place behind his ensemble of instruments.
“I told you! I knew it! Oh my goodness, we have to get a note to him.”
My head was spinning. Not only might we get to see one of our dear friends—who hadn’t been to visit since the Zombiez disbanded (much to many people’s dismay)—but, my chances of getting Cree to sign my CD cover may have just increased tremendously.
Like any good Taurus zodiac, I was prepared with a pen and a cute notepad in my purse. I carefully printed out our message:
Hey Davey! Steve and I are here in the first row! We’re so excited to see that you’re playing with Cree’s band. Would love to catch up with you after the show. ~ Big hugs, Debbie.
We caught the attention of the next roadie that walked by the front of the stage and gave him our elevator pitch ‘connection-to-the-percussionist’ story. I handed him my note, lightly embracing his hand between both of mine as I said: “I would be so grateful if you would give Davey this note.” Then I gently squeezed his hands and smiled … hoping he wouldn’t think I was a crazy stalker.
Before Cree came onstage, the roadie delivered my note to Davey. Due to the position of the rotating stage (which was stationary during set up), our seats were partially blocked from Davey’s view but I could see him looking around. So I started jumping up and down (I’m only five-one) and waving my arms, still hoping I looked like a normal person yet knowing I probably did not.
Steve and I were both calling out Davey’s name when he spotted us and immediately came trotting over. He hopped down from the stage to reach over the barrier gate, hugging us both with the genuine squeeze of kinship.
We laughed at the serendipity of being together again without even planning it. “What are the odds?!” we all said.
The angels love that question.
“I’ll come get you after our set. We can hang out backstage while Tonic sets up. I’ll let the roadies know you’re with me.”
Cree’s show was phenomenal, and she chilled me to the marrow of my very being with her transcendent vocals, mystical lyrics, and melodies that seemed to come from the Music of the Spheres … somewhere where reverence is at once profound and subtle in the same breath.
I felt changed by her performance. Lifted to a place of familiarity—like when we look at scrapbook pictures of relatives before we knew them. Before we were born. This is not to say that Cree was old. In fact, she’s five years younger than I am.
But I could feel the thrum of my own Native American history in her song “Naheo” … and to this day it bestills my heart and returns my core to a personal place of connection that refuses to be lost between the pages of black and white memories.
My heart was pounding as we sat in our seats, waiting while Cree’s roadies cleared the stage and concert goers headed to the downstairs bar for round two.
Maybe Davey wouldn’t come to get us.
Maybe I got my hopes up too soon.
Maybe he’d come out and say: Sorry guys, we’ve gotta get on the bus. But let’s catch up soon.
No. I wasn’t going to let my doubter-mind throw shade on what had already been an incredible night that I’d remember forever. Davey was like family. Maybe not a brother, but definitely a favorite cousin. So, I held onto the faith that he’d keep his promise.
And he did. Pretty quickly, too. He jogged around the perimeter of the stage and handed us two lanyards. “Put these on. Follow me.”
Through the curving back halls of The Celebrity Theater that follow the building’s circular shape, we went through several doors and down a flight of stairs into a small room where Cree sat on top of the counter with her legs crossed yoga style. The other band members were talking and laughing and they welcomed us into their private space with open arms. (That’s a Creed, C-R-E-E-D, band reference that I couldn’t resist after Google kept changing my Cree Summer searches to Creed Summer concerts as I was verifying info for this essay.)
Davey introduced us, letting them all know that my ex and I weren’t crazy stalkers. That Davey had indeed stayed with us in our home many times.
We were cool.
I wish I could remember every word that was spoken while we hung out that night. I don’t even know how long we were there and I have no memory of leaving or of watching Tonic, the headlining band.
But I do remember very vividly the feeling I got talking to Cree.
A true child of the earth (though she might say ‘savage’ of the earth), her genuine heart was full of kindness and realness. The feeling you get when you know you’re experiencing divine timing. When you feel the presence of purpose in a moment, like a message in a bottle being set adrift.
Cree signed my CD cover that night with the following words: Love and Light - Cree Summer. She also added a heart—an emoji, way before there ever was such a thing. It felt like she’d given me a key, as if the energy of her words, written by her hand, and given to me … held a simple secret.
A breadcrumb.
Maybe it’s my Native American roots that are always pulling me toward Mother Nature and the pure energies that we all emit.
Maybe it’s my hypersensitive constitution that absorbs the vibrations of those around me, connecting me to others in ways many people don’t believe is possible.
Maybe my guardian angel and Cree’s guardian angel agreed that this moment was a breadcrumb. A morsel for the future, dropped along my timeline in a pivotal place that I hadn’t even begun to imagine.
Angels are incredibly patient because they exist outside of time and, unbeknownst to me, mine were dutifully paving my Dharma path.
Fast forward to a year later and the night I locked up my sporty Acura Integra in my assigned covered spot of the apartment parking lot where I lived. In my car was a black zippered case that held 50 of my favorite CDs along with the jacket-covers and liner notes that came with each one.
Proudly displayed in the front two slots, side-by-side, was the Street Faërie CD and the cover Cree had signed. I left that case in my car all the time, stuffing it into the glovebox so it wasn’t obvious to anyone leering through the windows that I had roughly $500 worth of music sitting there.
But that night, I had a strange sensation about losing my collection … so I took the case inside my apartment with me. During the middle of the night, I dreamed that my car was stolen, waking up and thinking maybe I should go outside and down the stairs around the building to the parking lot to see if my car was still there.
But that seemed silly … until the next morning when I walked out to leave for work and my car was gone. Stolen.
Moldy breadcrumb?
The trauma of having your property stolen like that is awful, but my car was insured and I knew if the police didn’t find it that my insurance would replace it.
That Cree Summer-signed CD, however, was priceless to me and totally irreplaceable. Had I left that case in my car like I usually did … and ignored that sensation that the angels sent, warning me of the incoming theft … I would have been heartbroken by the loss of that connection to a kindred soul who showed kindness and sisterhood to a stranger after a concert.
I actually did get my car back a week later. And to this day, I still have my signed Cree Summer CD.
Now, 24 years later … during my Chinese zodiac year of the Dragon—2024—I’m called back to the breadcrumbs of those events, left by my guardian angel (who I now know is named Beverly).
As I’m writing now about those series of divinely timed “coincidences,” the angels dropped two more breadcrumbs during my research about Cree Summer.
First, she shares the same birth date, July 7th, as my only daughter. Pretty cool.
Then I learned that Cree is appearing in “The Librarian” episode of this season’s award-winning mocumentary, Abbott Elementary, on ABC.
In case you forgot or didn’t know … my last name is Abbott.
I guess, technically, that’s three breadcrumbs if you include the connection of “The Librarian” to my profession as a writer and aspiring author … always researching.
As a 2024 nominee for the NAACP Image Awards, Cree Summer has been called the queen of “voice-acting” by BET, with hundreds of credits to her name covering everything from animated children’s series to movies and video games.
I had no idea.
I only knew Cree from her role as Winifred “Freddie” Brooks on the sitcom A Different World (1988-1993), and from her Street Faërie album.
The way I see it, Cree Summer is the embodiment of the Ostara essence … Spring’s lifeforce in song and voice.
During this Spring Equinox and the time of new beginnings, as I begin the query process for my debut novel, THE ANGELS’ GAUNTLET, I’m also drafting my outline for the second novel in this series—a dual timeline story that draws upon my experience as a teenage mother in the 1980s versus the 1890s experience my great-grandmother, a member of the Northern California Wintu tribe, endured as an unwed mother … possibly shamed off the reservation.
If you’re still in the group of people who think everything is a coincidence, that’s okay. Angels don’t discriminate. They’ll keep dropping their breadcrumbs and hoping someday … you’ll pick one up.
I invite you to listen to the Dharma Direction Ostara Playlist on our Muse-Sick YouTube channel, featuring some of my favorite songs from Cree’s album along with other favorites relative to the Spring season … and a bonus track from the Psychodelic Zombiez called “Day Job” that features some of my photography as well as a cameo picture of a much younger me with the entire band and percussionist Davey Chegwiddon (crouched in front of me next to my ex-husband) at the video’s 1:48 minute-mark.
And as always, remember the Dharma Direction motto: Go With the Flow ~
Debbie Abbott is a former managing editor for an upscale food and lifestyle print magazine in Scottsdale, Arizona. Now she spends time working on her debut novel and sharing anecdotes and life lessons as Dharma Direction’s publisher, editor, and contributor. Her novel-in-progress, THE ANGELS’ GAUNTLET, is inspired by Debbie’s own life with the additional fantasy element of Angelic influence over the life of her Volunteer soul … which is determined to keep a 3,000-year-old promise of hope to the angels.
Connect with Debbie on Facebook, through Debbie's Twitter page or visit Debbie on Instagram.
Best Medicine …
“Real Life House Tours"
~ Colleen Markley reads her humorous essay about the differences between the house she actually lives in and the houses of people who merely breeze by their gargantuan abode when the season is right. (Originally published in Colleen’s blog: Yes! It Really Happened.)
Author’s Note:
Reading and recording this essay brought me back to a different place in time in my life. When I originally wrote it, my little kids and giant dogs were definitely in charge, and our house bore the brunt of that chaos. There’s plenty I miss about those days but looking back on it now as I stretch my quads … getting ready for empty nest life is a lot of fun.
Our house is in slightly better order (we did fix the gaping hole in the closet and have learned our lesson about remembering to turn off the outside water for winter). But there are some things I just let go and release. And that kind of balance in the world feels so much easier than any of the stress of perfection.
Colleen Markley is a novelist, freelance writer, and memoir instructor, named the June 2021 winner of the Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop Humor Writer of the Month. She was awarded the Nickie’s Prize for humor for her essay “Unflappably Calm, Occasionally Furious, Ready and Willing to Hide the Bodies,” published in Sisters! Bonded by Love and Laughter. 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.)
Check out Colleen’s Substack to catch up on her publishing accolades and recent bylines.
Find her at www.ColleenMarkley.com or sign up here for her newsletter and updates. Visit Colleen on Instagram or Facebook. See her reviews and what she’s reading on Goodreads.
Story Art-In-Motion …
~ LJ Longo reads her short Fantasy Romance about the possibilities that await us in ordinary moments while artist Read Gallo brings the scene to life with watercolors.
“Moonrise in the City”
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.
The Reading Dingy …
New releases to add to your to-be-read pile!
Check out all of these recommended reads on Goodreads.
The Ostara Playlist ft. Cree Summer
Let the mystic rhythms and uplifting beats of our Spring Equinox video playlist stir the possibilities of the season within your heart as you watch, or just listen to our curated mix on The Muse-Sick YouTube channel - Dharma Direction Ostara Playlist
See y’all in June for Dharma Direction’s next seasonal edition: Litha/Summer Solstice.
Many blessings to everyone,
~ Debbie Abbott, publisher/editor
#gowiththeflow
Amazing content, as always!!!