“Snow’s been falling for hours now. We’re going to end our meeting early and those who don’t live here, should make their way home,” said Sijo, the leader of the Brooklyn branch of the Supreme Yoga Society’s residence to the six non-members attending that evening’s meeting. He was excited because he was from a part of India where it never snowed. Snow made him feel vital and alive.
“We hate to leave before it’s over,” said a short girl who was a freshman in Brooklyn College. “I’ve only come three times and it’s so different from everything else I’ve ever heard of.”
“There’s almost a foot of snow and if you don’t go now, it will be dangerous,” insisted Sijo.
“I don’t want to go yet,” said one well-dressed woman, who was about fifty, to her husband. Their daughter had got them interested in the movement.
“The roads are bad. We’d better get going or we’ll be stuck all night and we’d disturb everyone here,” said her husband.
“We’ll see you all tomorrow” said Sijo to them as they left. A few minutes later, the snow picked up momentum and large wet flakes were falling softly, straight down, lit beautifully by the streetlamps. The roads were soon impassible and Brooklyn, that continually changing, noisy, treasure was as quiet as a deserted Kansas farm field covered with snow.
Ten men and twelve women lived in the residence, a large single-family detached frame home, a few blocks south of Prospect Park. The house had been built in the 1920s when most families had many children. The house had dark wood paneling with a formal staircase leading to the second floor. It had six bedrooms, which provided plenty of space for the residents. It was moderately well kept up, for a rented building. Sijo had decorated many rooms with bright paintings, all in loud primary colors depicting mythological subjects. They clashed with the styling of the house and most of the residents thought they were extremely garish but Sijo liked them and that was all that mattered. They reminded him of his life in India.
Most of the members were in their twenties and a few in their early thirties. These were the elite of the spiritual movement, who dedicated their life to poverty, service, celibacy, silence and meditation. They slept on air mattresses on the floor and often shared their clothes with each other. They all wore modern American clothes except for Sijo who dressed in a formal, traditional Indian style. Most had day jobs outside the house and several went door to door to ask for donations and sell trinkets. They led a dual life of silence and noise.
“I made the right decision to send them home,” Sijo said, to no one in particular. Most of the residents were on the open-air front porch watching the snowfall and a few had gone out to play in it.
The person who looked like he was having the most fun was Rodney, the newest member of the household. He was twenty-five years old and was the tallest, most physically fit of all the members. He began by making compact snowballs and hurling them against one of the trees that lined the street. After one or two misses, he consistently hit the tree hard, exactly where he was aiming. Two other male residents joined him in throwing snowballs at the tree but they mostly missed. When Rodney suggested they start a snowball fight, both declined.
“Don’t worry,” Rodney said. “I won’t hurt you.” Neither of them was willing to take part in friendly snow combat.
Sijo, who was thirty-five, and the oldest and shortest resident, looked out the window, saw Rodney pelting the trees and smiled broadly. He was the appointed leader of this center and was one of only three virgins in the house. He was both proud and ashamed of being a virgin. He had overcome minor temptations but never was sorely tested. He did not know how he would react to strong desires and he was not eager to find out. He felt he was doing just fine as he was.
Sijo was almost childlike when he got to play in the snow. Being a serious leader and caring greatly for his image and his position of authority, he did not want to be seen playing but this snow looked so inviting that he felt he had to go out in it. It would be meditation time in twenty minutes and he didn’t have much time to play.
He put on his warm coat and boots, opened the door and stepped off the porch. A snowball whizzed past his head with speed crashing about three feet away. It’s almost sacrilegious to throw a snowball at the leader, Sijo thought. He looked around and saw that Rodney was packing another snowball. Enjoy yourself, Sijo reminded himself, and ignoring protocol, he reached down, packed a snowball and threw it at Rodney. He missed badly and then shouted towards Rodney, “I’ll get you next time.”
Since Sijo had broken the enforced silence, Rodney was now free to shout back, “Give it your best shot. You’ll never get me.”
Sijo watched Rodney wind up and throw a lightly packed snowball easily. It hit Sijo in the chest and didn’t hurt at all. Sijo threw at Rodney again and missed but not as badly as before. This time Rodney threw very hard but he aimed intentionally a long way away from Sijo. They exchanged another volley. This time Sijo got closer to Rodney and Rodney threw very softly and again hit Sijo in the chest. Sijo laughed, packed another snowball and ran towards Rodney. Rodney didn’t make another snowball but stood watching Sijo. Sijo got very close, threw, and hit Rodney clean in the face. They both laughed.
“Congratulations” said Rodney. “I never thought you’d get me.”
“Of course, I got you,” said Sijo and the two of them stood talking. Sijo looked at his watch and realized it was time for the nightly meditation.
Sijo felt inspired by the snowball fight and thought that both he and the other residents had been very sincere of late and it was time for a little holiday. Normally, they would be awakened at five A.M. to begin another day of meditation, silence and work. Sijo called the residents together and declared a half-day holiday. With all this snow, no one could get to their jobs the next morning in any event so why not take it easy in the morning?
In this holiday atmosphere, someone suggested that they make cocoa and tell stories. Sijo asked them to all get ready to meditate after the story telling, so everyone put their pajamas on and then came down to the dining area for cocoa and stories.
Most of the members of the residence had been living there for at least a year and had already told a story. Rodney, who had moved into a similar residence only three weeks ago in Philadelphia and had moved to Brooklyn a week ago, was virtually unknown to this silent group. Sijo had only spoken to him a few times but he had a feeling that Rodney would tell an interesting story. Cups of cocoa were passed around.
Sijo decided that he should speak first. He began telling the story of The Yogi And The Scorpion. “A yogi saw a scorpion drowning in a pond,” he began.
There was a general groan as Sijo had told this story many times.
“Can’t we have Rodney speak?” one asked. “We’ve heard this story before.”
Sijo considered this insolence. No one should talk to him like that. He was the leader and knew more than anyone else. But he did not say this.
Rodney said he’d never heard the story before and Sijo continued. “The yogi saw that the scorpion was going to drown so he reached down and picked the scorpion up and the scorpion stung the yogi. The yogi winced and the scorpion fell back into the water. Do you know what the yogi did next?”
The others looked away but Rodney asked, “No, what did he do?”
“The yogi reached for the scorpion and picked him out again. The scorpion stung him again. Do you know why the yogi picked him up a second time?”
“No why?” asked Rodney.
“It’s the scorpion’s nature to sting and the yogi’s nature to save,” said Sijo with a tremendous smile on his face.
“That’s a great story,” said Rodney.
“Can we have Rodney tell a story now?” another resident asked.
Sijo asked Rodney to tell everyone how he got involved with the movement.
“I really don’t feel it is appropriate for me to talk about my past life. I’ve done many things I’m not proud of.”
“You’re obviously reformed now, why don’t you tell us about it,” said Sijo. “I’m sure your life was interesting and we’ll learn a lot from hearing about it. Please just go ahead and tell us.”
Coming from the leader, this was an order. “I’m not sure how far to go in describing my life. It was sinful and some of it was criminal.”
This piqued Sijo’s interest. He knew so little of sin. Sijo said, “Please tell us in complete detail. We’re all a family here and we all take a vow to keep what you say in secrecy, don’t we? Nod if you agree?”
All but one of them nodded. They didn’t watch TV or go to the movies, so for them, a real story, especially one with crime and real action would be quite a treat. The resident who didn’t nod in agreement said he’d rather go and meditate. He left.
Rodney began: “I grew up on the South side of Chicago. I lived with my mother and never knew my father. I became a member of a gang when I was a teen and the gang was violent. The young gang members sold weed on the street. Sometimes we’d fight with a rival gang over territory and the way up in my world was to hurt members of the other gangs. I’m not proud of it now but I was one of the best fighters in my gang. I wanted to lead it some day. I didn’t kill anyone but I hurt many.”
Rodney noticed that he had everyone’s complete attention. He hadn’t had anyone’s attention since he left the gang and it started to go to his head. “When I was twenty-one, I became a full member of the gang. I got a small tattoo on my shoulder indicating my new status. I had a motorcycle, a gun and plenty of money from the younger members selling weed.
“When there was peace between the gangs, it was a blast. It’s true that girls really dig ‘bad boys’ and they all knew I was both rich and a ‘bad boy’. Two girls, Adele and Sarah, both wanted me. I was having fun with another girl but Adele and Sarah wanted me bad. They came over and asked if both of them could do me at the same time and then I’d choose one of them to be a permanent lover. I couldn’t resist.”
The eyes of one of the men listening intensely focused on Rodney. He didn’t blink as he took in every word. Two of the women started looking at each other instead of at Rodney.
Sijo was oblivious to the other’s reaction to Rodney’s story because he was having his own vivid reactions. One part of him thought that he’d been so good, for so long, that he deserved a chance to experience some of the things Rodney talked about. Maybe he could do so. The other part of his mind told him that to allow the conversation was wrong and he should stop it. But he was fascinated and wanted to know what happened next. He did nothing to stop Rodney.
Rodney continued, “That was fantastic, a dream come true. The next day I chose Adele to be my official girlfriend but told Sarah I would see her sometimes on the sly. I used to think that men hated more than women but seeing how Adele and Sarah treated each other, I began to change my mind. They verbally tortured each other. I thought they might stop fighting if I would only see one of them but what bodies they both had. How was I ever going to turn either one of them down?
“Sarah and Adele would play tricks on the other. I told them to stop but they never did. Instead their tricks become subtler and harder to detect. Both Sarah and Adele had what we men would call toy choppers. One day, Sarah rode off fast on her chopper into traffic and plowed into a car and died. I was notified and identified her body. I also got her chopper. Hardly anyone else would have noticed that the brakes had been expertly tampered with. Adele knew how to tinker with choppers. Could Adele have done it? I didn’t want to find out nor would I report it to the police if I did but this was the first time I really thought about death and the consequences of what I was doing.
“After Sarah’s death, I started to steer clear of Adele. I got a different girl friend who was very tame compared to Adele and Sarah but I really started to care for her and I began to think that I’d like a normal life and would like to leave the gang. But how could I do that? One person couldn’t leave the gang safely; two people leaving together was impossible.
“One day, two buddies and me were riding. On a dare, we stuck up a convenience store. On the way out, we saw a police car in the parking lot next door with one cop standing and looking away from us. He turned and looked in our direction, then directly at us. I told my buddies that I would take care of the cop and they rode off. I took out my pistol, pointed it at the cop and pulled the trigger. It didn’t go off. I pulled the trigger again and was astounded when I realized that the safety was on. I never keep the safety on. And suddenly something snapped in me and I knew that God had saved me. Why me, I thought? I don’t deserve to be saved but for some reason He saved me. I rode off and got away. Now that God had saved me, I had to think how I could save myself.
“I knew I had to get out of the gang, out of Chicago. I had money in my pocket. No one in my position takes a bus, so I’d took one. The gang didn’t have a presence in the East Coast so I took one to Philly. When I got there as I walked down a street I was handed a leaflet from the movement urging me to turn my life around. Why not try I thought. The gang would never expect that and, besides, I thought that now that God had saved me, it was time to learn something about God. I joined and then was sent here. I never told anyone in the Philly house about any of this. I’m still a fugitive from my gang. I’m sure you won’t rat me out. I love it here. And am so thankful for all you’ve done for me.”
When Rodney stopped talking, the joy of having an audience immediately left him. He saw the shock in the eyes of his listeners. He had said far too much. He knew human nature well enough to know there’d be a lot of talk about what he had said. No code of silence could stop that. He didn’t feel completely safe. Could the gang find him here?
Sijo said it was time to meditate. The residents looked at the snow for a few minutes and then drifted into the meditation room.
Sijo and Rodney lingered before joining the others. Both realized a huge mistake had been made but, as the spiritual leader, Sijo rarely admitted that he’d made a mistake. They stood looking at each other for a short time. Rodney broke the silence. “It’s my fault entirely. I should never have said so much. It’s going to disturb people’s meditation. I’m very sorry.”
Sijo stood wondering if he should admit some responsibility when Rodney continued, “I’ll do better next time.” Rodney’s humility compelled Sijo to admit the obvious, “It was my fault too. I’m in charge and should have stopped you.”
Sijo smiled at Rodney and they both entered the meditation room.
There are many forms of meditation. This group practiced a concentration technique whose object is to concentrate on the object of meditation and exclude all other thoughts. This is easy to describe but extremely difficult to do. A classic example of the difficulty involved consists of the order, “Don’t think about white elephants.” That night there was more concentration on Rodney’s talk than on the official object of meditation.
Rodney’s thoughts were racing. Women were at the center of his thoughts. He hadn’t had a woman for what seemed a very long time. Many of the women in the residence were beautiful. He tried hard not to think of them. They were holy but when they were in their pajamas, they were sometimes revealed and these images tortured him. He called on the Lord for help, but help came there none. What was he to do? He simply did not know.
That night, during meditation, most of the people were having sexual thoughts, many of the women were thinking about Rodney. He was the most manly and handsome man there. Some of the men’ s sexual thoughts drove them from the meditation session early.
Every day after that, Sijo found some reason to talk to Rodney about his life in the gang. Rodney knew he was obliged to talk about whatever Sijo wanted him to talk about but he tried to say as little as possible.
During a talk, Rodney asked Sijo how he dealt with powerful thoughts of temptation. Sijo talked about letting the mind do what it wanted and relaxing. “If you give it enough space, it will get tired and calm of its own accord.” This had not been Rodney’s experience. His mind would roam far and wide and never tire and find peace. He started thinking that Sijo might not have the tools needed to help someone like himself. He wished Sijo and the others had really encountered evil in their lives and overcome it. What did he have in common with them?
A few days later, after the nightly meeting, a woman, who wasn’t a resident, stayed behind talking to Sijo. He put his hand on her back and held it there. She didn’t react. A few days later, his hand, which was on her back wandered a little further down. Sijo felt exhilarated and fear in equal measures. Could he do it? Do I really want to? The woman didn’t seem to have any objections. She smiled at him and put her hand on his shoulder. Sijo was proud that he hadn’t let his fear deter him and that he had finally overcome some of his fear of women.
Rodney was one of the people who raised money for the group, going door to door and talking to people about the movement, always asking for donations in exchange for some small object. One day when he knocked on the door of an apartment, a tall, very thin Black woman, in her late twenties, wearing a short sleeve blouse and jeans, answered the door and Rodney sensed both her strength and gentleness. He wanted her immediately. He talked about the movement and asked for a donation, expecting that she wouldn’t give him one. To his surprise, she introduced herself. “My name’s Carlotta. What’s yours?”
“My name’s Rodney. I am very glad to meet you.”
In truth, Carlotta had no interest in the trinkets Rodney was selling but she liked people and she felt an immediate attraction to Rodney. Her voice trembled a little as she said, “Would you like to come in and have a cup of coffee? You could tell me more about what you’re selling.”
“I’d love to come in,” said Rodney for two reasons. After a month of silence, he genuinely wanted to talk to someone, particularly to a woman plus at the residence they were forbidden to drink coffee and he missed it.
They entered a very small kitchen, with one curtained window and a small wooden table with three chairs against the wall. The walls were covered, all the way to the ceiling, with original works of art, obviously all by the same hand. Many of the works were oil colors with subtle colors and gentle rhythmic elements in the background. The portraits showed faces in a hyper-realistic style, as if trying to reveal the true feelings of the individual shown. There were portraits of individual people and people interacting together. Some of the portraits were in pastels and the skin tones were remarkably lifelike. Rodney was fascinated.
Carlotta said, “They’re all mine. I work as a graphic artist and these are a few of my fine art works.”
“They’re wonderful. I used to draw a great deal myself.”
“Why did you give it up?”
“Life distracted me.” Rodney didn’t want to say that his gang looked down and ridiculed people with artistic tendencies. That he had missed an important part of his life.
“That’s a shame. It’s amazing how much snow we’ve gotten lately. I love it, don’t you?” asked Carlotta.
“I love having snowball fights but hardly anyone will fight with me.”
“I used to have snowball fights with my brothers. It was so much fun. Whipped them and I could probably whip you too,” Carlotta said, with a smile.
“You throw that well?” asked Rodney.
“Yes I do,” said Carlotta. She went to another room, came back with a whiffle ball, took Rodney out into the corridor and tossed it hard. It made an impressive curve; almost as good a curve as Rodney could have thrown.
Rodney looked closely at Carlotta’s throwing arm and saw what looked to be old track marks. He was shocked. Was she an addict? Carlotta saw that Rodney was staring at her arm.
“I see you noticed. They’ve faded but I don’t try to cover them. They remind me how strong I have to be. You must have led a hard life to have noticed.”
“More difficult than I want to talk about.”
“ I was once an addict but God reached down and saved me.” She smiled and waited for Rodney to ask her about her beliefs.
“God saved me too,” said Rodney. “I pointed my gun at a cop, pulled the trigger and somehow God had put the safety on. I’d be in prison except for that.”
Carlotta eyes widened. She said, “The Lord Jesus Christ saved both of us. He’s saved the entire world and everyone who lives in it. He’s here right now. I feel him in my heart all the time.”
“I went to church and hated it,” said Rodney. “Christianity is only for the good. That’s what they seemed to say at my church and I know I’m not good. I’m not a believer, I follow the way of meditation and I have a living teacher.”
“You’re wrong. Jesus came for the wicked people who are tired of being wicked. He spent his time with the sinners, the whores and the thieves because He knew they needed the Kingdom of Heaven. The so-called “good” people don’t need someone like Jesus. Would your teacher spend time with thieves and whores?”
Rodney was sure he wouldn’t but he wasn’t going to say that. He managed to say “Maybe.”
Carlotta shook her head. “Have you ever heard him do so?”
“No but that doesn’t prove he wouldn’t.”
“Jesus gave his life for his friends. Have you ever known anyone who would give his life for his friends?” said Carlotta.
Rodney thought of himself. He had told his friends to beat it and he would deal with the cops. He had sacrificed himself and somehow he had been saved. Rodney’s mind opened about himself. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. Maybe his essence hadn’t been corrupted.
They continued to talk. Carlotta told Rodney that when she was young she wanted to be an actress. Rodney said he wished he had the talent to be a writer.
“Maybe you do have the talent and will do it. Maybe I still might be in one of your plays,” Carlotta said.
“Maybe.” They both smiled.
Rodney wanted to get Carlotta into bed but he knew she wouldn’t do that and, for the first time, he felt that he shouldn’t be doing that with her either. Maybe something real could come from knowing her. After they talked for almost an hour, Rodney said he had to go. Carlotta asked if he would come back and see her again, saying that she’d get home from her graphic design job tomorrow around 4:30.
Rodney could not resist seeing Carlotta again. The next day, he was selling in the same area again. He took a little money from his sales and bought Carlotta flowers. Her reaction surprised him. “You told me that you were poor. Where did you get the money to buy me flowers?”
“I used the money I made for the movement to buy them,” said Rodney.
“ “I love flowers but I won’t take something that isn’t yours. If you give me something, give me something you have or made yourself. Jesus Christ is my Lord and savior and I won’t tolerate any cheating from me or from you.”
Rodney realized Carlotta was stronger than he was and he needed that strength. In his gang days, he would never have allowed a woman to speak to him like that but lately life had taught him to pull his punches. He wanted her even more.
“I want to give you something. I want to give you my heart,” said Rodney and
kissed her. She returned the kiss but she would not go any further. They continued to talk about what they had wanted when they were small. Rodney said he had played stickball in the neighborhood and had wanted to play third base for the Chicago Cubs. Carlotta had been on her college softball team before she ran into her time of troubles. They talked of how they now wanted happiness and a purpose more than worldly achievements.
They talked about their spiritual paths. Carlotta talked to Rodney about her beliefs and experiences. He found he really didn’t have that much to say. Rodney realized that she really had overcome her addictions and that he had not really overcome his problems, he was only hiding from them. It was time for Rodney to go back to the residence and he reluctantly left, promising to return the next day.
As Rodney was walking to the residence, he saw Sijo and a woman standing on the porch talking. Rodney paused on the sidewalk a moderately long distance away and waited, both out of politeness and curiosity. The two kissed. When they finished, Sijo turned his head to the right; he saw that Rodney was looking at them. As Rodney passed them, he heard them discussing meditation as if nothing had been happening
Rodney visited Carlotta every day for the next week. She showed Rodney the little art studio she had made in the living room where she did oil paintings and a bit of freelance graphic design work. Rodney asked if she’d let him do some pencil drawings and she saw that he had some talent, rougher in most ways than her style but many of his lines carried both strong power and a subtle tactile feel to them. His work was interesting and showed talent. Before he left, he drew a little portrait of her. “This is my first present to you.”
“It’s precious,” she said and kissed him, lingeringly. Carlotta never went further than a kiss. This was an entirely new life for Rodney. He would never, in the past, have seen a woman who wouldn’t have sex with him.
“Why don’t you stay and come with me to my home church,” asked Carlotta. “We meet on Tuesday nights at George and Martha’s house. You’ll love it.” Rodney said that he couldn’t go.
After he left, Carlotta got on her knees to pray. “Jesus, if this is what you want for me, please let me know. If not, please tell me. I know you want what’s best for me. Show me your will.”
That night, in meditation, Rodney’s mind raced. He could neither calm it, nor concentrate nor assuage his conscience. He saw himself as being as selfish and lusting as much as he ever had before. When he spoke to Sijo the next morning, he was told to concentrate more, to let go of his thoughts as they arise. “It may take a very long time but you can do it,” Sijo said. Rodney wondered if it was even remotely possible.
Rodney saw Carlotta the next day, missing several hours of fundraising. He had to think of excuses for making less money but he found that his explanations of bad luck were sufficient. He was catching honesty from Carlotta, so he felt embarrassed about lying to the people in the residence but he did it nevertheless.
Every time they met, Carlotta told Rodney that God loves him as he is. “Accept that love which he manifested in his Son.” Rodney listened but was unconvinced, often changing the subject.
One day, she took Rodney to see George and Martha, who led her home church. Martha and Carlotta were in the kitchen while Rodney tried to explain to George the basis of meditation.
“It’s all well and good,” said George “but you’ve got it wrong. “You think God will love you once you’ve done all these works. That’s trying to buy something that is given away for free. Jesus has already paid for your sins. You just have to accept it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Jesus asked a group of men, ‘What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, would give him a stone?’ He was talking to people like you and me. We’re bad but we’d give our children any gift we could. God’s much better than us. We merely have to ask and he will open the door for us.”
“I don’t know,” said Rodney.
“God’s promise is eternal and absolute,” said George.
Martha and Carlotta brought in coffee and the four continued to talk.
A week later, there was a need for a member of the residence to move to a similar residence in Miami and Sijo decided to send Rodney. Sijo told Rodney that he would be leaving for Miami in two days time. Rodney was not sure what to do. He went to see Carlotta and told her. She started to cry. He held her. They kissed. He got down on one knee and asked if Carlotta would marry him.
Carlotta said, “I want to marry you but I would only marry a Christian.”
“I was raised as Christian but never understood it. Now I know what it means.”
“It’s Tuesday. Tonight, I go to the home church at George and Martha’s. Let’s go and get married. We can ask George to preside while we take our vows.”
She phoned Martha, who was surprised at the suddenness of the decision but she knew that Carlotta needed a helper. She was very happy for Carlotta.
Rodney phoned and left a message for Sijo to say that he would be very late and not to worry about him. When he got the message, Sijo was angry and for the first time, he acknowledged the anger to himself and didn’t try to stop it.
Carlotta and Rodney went to the home church. Normally there would be about ten or twelve people on a Tuesday night but Martha had phoned many people and there were about thirty people. Carlotta and Rodney arrived early.
“’You have to have a ring,” said Martha to Carlotta.
“We don’t have one,” said Carlotta.
“I have some rings up in my jewelry box. Maybe one will fit.”
“You’d really give me a ring?”
“With the greatest pleasure.”
“I have some wire in the basement,” said George to Rodney. “Maybe I could make you something that looks like a ring.” They went down and came up with an oddly shaped wire ring. Martha and Carlotta came down with a ring that fit Carlotta. Martha was the maid of honor and one of her sons was the best man.
They all gathered in the living room. George read the ceremony. All took part and afterwards the dessert and talk that always followed a meeting became a small wedding reception.
“Best night we ever had in a long time. Beats reading Romans,” one attendee said on the way out.
“I love reading Romans,” replied George.
“But weddings are even better,” agreed Martha.
When they got back to Carlotta’s apartment, Rodney phoned Sijo and told him he would see him in the morning. After the call, Carlotta and Rodney made the sweetest love of their lives, a night they remembered fondly all the days of their lives.
The next morning, on the way back to the residence, Rodney wondered how he would explain to Sijo that he had broken his promise to lead a celibate life.
When they met, Rodney began by saying, “A lot has happened to me since the night of the snow storm. I have a confession to make to you. I got married last night.”
“A lot has happened to me too,” said Sijo.
“I saw that,” Rodney said. “I told you about my former life. I thought I could be celibate but I couldn’t.”
“Since you’re leaving, I can speak freely to you. I now know how difficult celibacy is,” said Sijo. “I used to judge others and thought how ill-prepared they were compared to me and how easily they gave into their desires. Now I see all of that same weakness in myself. I just hid it better. I can’t calmly and proudly look down on them from the heights. I’m in the same mess they are.”
“I was sure you were a virgin and didn’t think you had those kinds of thoughts until I saw you the other day.”
“Since the snowstorm I have been thinking more and more about women. It’s not just me, two of the residents here plan to leave and go live together.”
“I know.”
“How did you know?”
“How could you not know? But that’s not what I want to talk to you about. A life of crime sounds exciting but it’s really awful. You’d make a disastrous criminal. You don’t have it in you and you should be happy about that,” said Rodney.
“What are you talking about?”
“Right out in the open on the porch. You’d be caught every time. Forget about it.”
“ It was never serious.”
“This life suits you. Don’t blow it. I have so enjoyed knowing you. You have been very good to me,” said Rodney.
“And it’s a blessing knowing you. I’ve learned so much.”
“I’d like to keep in touch and hear more of your stories.”
“I’d like to tell you more. Yes, let’s get together.”
“You need someone to keep you honest, now that you’ve tasted temptation. I’ll try to make sure you don’t give in.”
Sijo laughed. “I never thought I’d need that.”
“All people need someone to help them,” said Rodney.
“What should I tell people about your leaving?”
“Tell them you sent me to the Miami center.”
“That would be a lie.”
“Go ahead. Tonight announce at dinner that I’ve left for the bus station. For all you know, I’ll be going. Then when I don’t show up, you can announce that I must have changed my mind while on the way. That would be the truth and would cover my tracks. There are already people looking for me. I’m sure people here are talking about me.”
“I can do that.”
Sijo and Rodney hugged and said goodbye. Rodney took his few clothes and moved in with Carlotta. They never legally got married, until a year later when their first of two children was born, but he took to using her last name because he still had a residual fear of his gang. How real the threat was, he had no way of knowing but to be cautious was important to him.
The day that Rodney left, a member’s father, who was in the police force, came to visit the center and talked to Sijo.
“My son tells me that you have a known violent criminal here.”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“My son doesn’t lie. This man Rodney told all about his crimes.”
“Your son didn’t lie about what he heard but he doesn’t know the whole story. Before the story telling began, I asked Rodney to make up a dangerous, interesting story to entertain us and to tell it as if it were true. We don’t get much entertainment here.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Why would I lie?”
“To protect your movement.”
“We pledge ourselves to tell the truth.”
The father, who thought his son loopy for joining such a “silly” religion, thought Sijo was the more trustworthy of the two. He believed Sijo. Sijo was embarrassed that he had told several lies but he had taken a vow of secrecy and did not want to turn in someone whom he now considered a friend. Besides, he had no idea where Rodney really was.
Rodney had artistic talent, not enough to paint oils in a hyper-realistic style but with a lot of training he could do some of the graphic design work Carlotta did. He could even imitate Carlotta’s style, when needed. Carlotta was able to get a fair amount of freelance work besides doing her regular job. Her coworkers wondered how she did so much work at night but it was really Rodney who did the bulk of the freelance work at first under Carlotta’s direction and later on his own.
Carlotta had some artistic success and even did three covers for the New Yorker magazine. If you looked closely, two of the covers have “Carlotta” woven into the signature on the drawing and one has “Carlotta R” entwined in it. The very few who noticed the “R” thought Carlotta’s middle initial was “R” but this really stood for Carlotta Rodney. Rodney had designed this cover.
Every few months, Rodney would call Sijo and arrange to have lunch in a crowded restaurant. They discovered their lives had much more in common than they had thought. Prayer and meditation, beyond the beginning phases, have many similarities.
One thing they often talked about was the difficulty of expressing, in words, what they were experiencing. “You talk about the wonder of God and people just don’t understand you,” said Sijo.
“Yes, they use the same word for bread. Wonder Bread. It’s not surprising that people don’t understand us,” said Rodney. “What’s the biggest revelation in your life?”
“I don’t have to feed my ego and status. I can let it go. I was both trying to get rid of it and enhance it at the same time. That’s completely impossible to do.”
“I feel like as I get smaller, this happens at the same time,” and Rodney drew his hands apart. “How do you explain it?”
Sijo laughed and nodded his head.
“I’ve had to start to think about how to help people,” said Sijo. “I thought I already knew but some people need me to be strong, invincible and others find I’m more helpful to them when I admit to some of my problems.”
“Did you tell them about the girl you kissed?” Rodney laughed.
“I don’t think they need all the details,” Sijo laughed too. “I’ve decided to work part time and help support myself.”
“What will you do?”
“I haven’t decided but I’m thinking of several possibilities. I love to meditate but there’s so many other parts of our life.”
“I like my work too. First honest thing I’ve done.”
Seven years later, late one afternoon, Sijo ran into Rodney, Carlotta and their two children as they were shopping on Flatbush Avenue.
“Sijo, so nice to see you,” said Rodney. “You’ve never met my family. This is my wife Carlotta and our two children.”
“Nice to meet you,” said Carlotta with a little less enthusiasm than Rodney desired. Carlotta did not entirely approve of Sijo’s religion.
“Nice to finally meet you, Carlotta,” said Sijo. He looked at Rodney and said, “Looks like you made a very wise choice.”
“Daddy, I want some ice cream. There’s an ice cream shop.”
”It will ruin your dinner,” said Carlotta.
“Maybe we could let them this time,” Rodney whispered into Carlotta’s ear, “When I want my dessert, I always get it.”
Carlotta blushed and whispered into Rodney’s ear: “Your dessert is my dessert.” She said out loud, “We have to say no or else they’ll expect it every time.”
“Let me buy us all desserts,” said Sijo. “This meeting is a celebration not an everyday occurrence,”
Rodney looked into Carlotta’s eyes pleadingly and she said, “Yes, let’s make it a celebration that we’ve finally met Rodney’s great friend.”
The two children had hot fudge sundaes. Sijo, Carlotta and Rodney contented themselves with a scoop of ice cream. Rodney talked to his children so that Carlotta and Sijo could get a chance to get to know each other.
Sijo felt a little shy. Carlotta asked how it was going at the residence. Sijo talked about how a few people had left because they wanted to lead a different life and how a few had come back later having realized they really wanted the spiritual life. “When we got down to nine people, we moved into an apartment. Much cheaper.”
“Yes, some people left our church, some people joined and others came back. Did you ever want to leave?”
“No but I’m often disappointed with my spiritual life,” said Sijo.
“That happens to me when I think I know exactly what I want and need. Sometimes it’s hard to let go and let God lead but when I do it’s wonderful.”
“Yes that’s true. I’m now also teaching English as a second language on a part time basis. It’s very rewarding.”
“Yes, we’re not really doing this exclusively for ourselves, are we?” said Carlotta.
“No we’re not. I wish I had learned that earlier.”
“We only learn as fast as we listen to Him.”
“Yes, when we listen to what is real.”
This was the beginning of Sijo acquaintance and eventual friendship with Carlotta. Carlotta and Sijo never understood each other well but they began to realize that some of their differences were in how they described and categorized their experiences, not in the experiences themselves.
The most important similarity for all three was that they realized that although their lives had many challenges and frustrations, they knew that they should embrace them rather than fight them. They knew they were on the path that they believed in and which they felt was the most valuable for themselves and others. There is deep joy in waking up in the morning and knowing which direction you are supposed to go and going in that direction. The final destination continued to be hazy and far ahead but the day’s direction was usually quite clear. They were very content with their lives and choices.
Many, mostly happy years passed. Sijo went back to India and became an important leader of his spiritual movement and gained a much broader picture of both its successes and failures. He felt that a very heavy responsibility had been placed on his shoulders, one almost beyond his capacity to handle. He often missed what he now considered his easier and happier life in Brooklyn and seeing his friends there.
As their children became teenagers, parenting became harder for both Rodney and Carlotta. Their children had an easier relationship with Rodney than they did with Carlota, who they considered to be controlling. Carlotta struggled greatly with this trait trying to let go and trust more. She knew that just because she screwed up didn’t mean that her children would. Rodney had the opposite problem. He was often too easy on his children, having a very hard time trying to discipline them.
Despite these problems, their children did well. Their daughter became a nurse. Their son wanted to become a professional baseball pitcher. Both Rodney and Carlotta wanted him to go to college on a full baseball scholarship but he was offered a signing bonus with the Atlanta Braves organization and started playing in the Rookie League instead of going to college.
Rodney’s fear of the Chicago gang finding him gradually disappeared. He wanted to work with gang members but found that this brought up too many difficult memories. He didn’t want to be reminded of the many stupid things he’d done and in many ways he wasn’t the same person who had been in a gang.
Rodney knew he had to do something to help others. At the local high school their children had attended, girls graduated at a much higher rate than boys. Rodney decided to begin a free after school art class for boys having troubles in school.
Often, one of the boys would talk about how people looked on them as sissies for doing art. Whenever this would happen Rodney would show them the gang tattoo on his shoulder and say, “See this tattoo, I got it for fighting when I was in a gang. Believe me, making art takes more courage and imagination than anything I ever did in my gang.” These few sentences did more for some of his students than anything else Rodney did for them. Almost always the boys would ask him about his gang experiences but Rodney never went beyond saying that the leaders of the gang exploited him, so that they could lead a rich and easy life.
Sijo, when he wrote from India, addressed his letters to both Carlotta and Rodney. In one letter, he wrote about the drug addiction and abuse problems in India especially the extra difficulty for women because most of the rehabilitation centers were either only for men or had very few places for women. He explained that there was an especially strong social stigma attached to female addicts. Sijo was going to be soliciting money for his movement to set up a rehabilitation center in Hyderabad that would only be for women. Over the next two years, Carlotta raised twelve thousand dollars to help set up the clinic.
Sijo invited Carlotta to come to India to help organize the center and to be part of an international effort to support it. Carlotta was both delighted to be asked and afraid she wouldn’t be much help. Rodney urged her to go. Carlotta wrote Sijo saying that she would love to help but she didn’t have any formal training in helping people overcome these types of problems. Sijo wrote back, “Our society has failed these women. I’m sure your presence will help and inspire those of us who are planning this enterprise. It’s despair that helps breed addiction and your enthusiasm may be a help to overcome this despair. You will be free to help in any way you see fit. You will be an inspiration to us all. What’s important is helping these people, not our personal glory. Please come.”
Carlotta went for two months to help with the planning. She stayed at one of the homes for women in the movement. It was a plain, unadorned building in an extremely busy section of Hyderabad. Carlotta met many women addicts who had been sex workers and felt completely hopeless. She was both shocked and depressed by their condition and was determined to be of some inspiration to them.
“It’s not enough to rehabilitate them. We have to find some way to help them support themselves,” she told Sijo. Together with others in the movement, Carlotta helped plan a center.
At the end of two months, Rodney came over for a few weeks. The new center, which would open about two months later, would need continual financial support and both Carlotta and Rodney pledged to work to bring in some of the needed money.
A few years later, when Rodney and Carlotta were again visiting Sijo, he asked if they would consider moving permanently to India to help at the center. Rodney laughed and said, “Then I’d never see snow again.”
Carlotta agreed, “I’d miss snow too much.”
Sijo sighed and said, “I have a confession. Something I’d never admit to anyone but the two of you. I love what I’m doing here but I really miss playing in the snow, too.”
Carlotta took Sijo aside one day. They went into the kitchen, chopped up some ice cubes in a food blender and made two snowballs. They hid and when Rodney came into the room, they both hit him with a snowball. Rodney was shocked and a bit angry at first but he soon saw the joke of it.
Sijo said it was the most fun he’d had in a long time. Rodney invited Sijo to come see them in the winter so he could pay him back. Sijo said he’d love to but he never did return to Brooklyn to see his friends and play with them in the snow.
When he reached sixty-five years old, Sijo gave up his leadership post to a younger person. He went on a three month silent retreat but found it was too lonely, so he left after a month. He returned to the obscurity of being a volunteer for the movement. He missed his former prestige but believed that curbing his ego was his most essential task.
At fifty, Carlotta got a part-time job teaching at night at The Arts Student’s League. She loved it. It gave her so many ideas that she started to devote all her energy to her fine art. Rodney continued their commercial work. When Martha and George moved to Florida, their home church began to meet in Carlotta and Rodney’s apartment. They were very happy together. Very happy to be healthy. Very happy to love God.