stories about my life in Tucson and NYC (written 2005 and 2006)

Thursday

Gurus and Companions


by Ronnie DeNota
Riomar Cafe on Little West 12th Street, NYC, 1998

“Gurus and Companions”

Saturday, January, 7, 2006

Today is Jeannie’s birthday. Helen’s birthday was last week, Cora’s birthday is next week. And my 3 friends named Sue have their birthdays at this time. Sue my friend at college, Sue who used to talk on phone about astrology with me back in NYC, and Sue at the swimming pool who got me back into writing. My Moon is in this astrological sign. These women have been paths for me. Cora opened up the greatest path for me, love and spirituality. And Helen took me further along that path. Jeannie taught me women’s liberation and art. My friend Sue in college taught me intelligence. You could say they were all my gurus, they were my teachers.

The teaching styles were very different. Cora arrived at my apt. every evening, sat at my kitchen table while I made her coffee, and asked for my advice and told me all her problems. No one had ever asked for my advice before. I was famous for being an idiot, a chicken without a head. People would say “I worry about you, Anne.”


Everyone saw me as a mess. But not Cora. We'd have coffee, she’d settle down happily and tell me the long stories of her problems. At that time she was still trying to hold a job, so most of it had to do with jobs. She was a waitress at Wall St. lunch counter when she accidentally dropped the piece of luscious chocolate cake the man had been eyeing on his lap. She was in the typing pool when the women kindly and gently and lovingly took her aside and explained she has to be fired because she arrived 3 hours late at work every day.


In Cora’s world everyone was an angel. She saw everyone thru a loving empathetic lens. She had such sympathy for her landlord, Mr. Kessler. Each month Cora would arrive with five dollars to pay down on the rent she owed from 4 months ago, until Mr. Kessler couldn’t take it anymore, and said “Cora let’s start from scratch.” Mr. Kessler was a saint to put up with this the whole time Cora lived there. She did not get evicted until the neighborhood changed and landlords were offered big money for their tenements. As Cora explained to me, “having another de-rent controlled apt. sweetened the deal.” Cora was evicted from her rent controlled apt. where her rent was only $70 per month. She was 6 months behind at that point.

Because Key Food closed at 9 PM, at few minutes to 9 she would put on her coat and all her scarves, and say “thank you dear sweet Anne” and look at me with face of such love, and try to get to Key Food in time to bang on the doors and get them to open for her. “Is there anything you want at Key Food she would ask?” So sometimes she would return with something I needed.

Compared to Cora the official story that Anne is such a mess I realized was not quite true. I was able to keep my job. I was able to pay my rent. I paid my electricity too. When we had the big black out, Cora was reading by a candle. She looked outside when she heard all the noise and saw the streetlights were out. “Why are they making such a fuss about the streetlights being out,” she thought, and went back to reading by her candle. She didn’t know electricity had gone off for the city.

But what I learned from Cora was everything. I learned from Cora that all people are angels and I am an angel too. Before that I thought all people were monsters and I was a monster too. I had no idea you could see people thru the eyes of peaceful love, and as a result see yourself that way too. Cora used to refer to herself that way. She would refer to her own sweetness. And I, who had always hated myself, was floored that Cora loved herself. And she saw me thru such loving appreciative eyes. I began to see myself that way too. You could say Cora liberated me. She did.

Cora was a good antidote for me for my friendship with Jeannie which had preceded it. What ruined that friendship was my intense envy. At first I just whole-heartedly admired Jeannie and I expressed all my admiration. I was happy admiring her and expressing it and she was happy to be admired. But then she wrote a book it got published she became famous, and I became very envious of her. Before she wrote her book she had been a painter. It was my first introduction to the world of art, and to the life of a working artist. It caused a great switch in values for me. I had never considered anything other than the professions before. In fact I was school teacher during our friendship. Jeannie was quite contemptuous of the professions. “Women are always shoved into the helping professions” she announced at a women’s liberation meeting.

In our personal friendship I saw how much art gave her. For Jeannie art gave her everything. “An artist’s childhood is their treasure chest” she told me, “it is what the artist draws from.” Because of Jeannie I wanted to become a writer, I wanted it with all my heart. And it had never occurred to me to want it before. It had not even occurred to me I could do it before. I thought you had to have talent. But Jeannie had said “the best painter in art school said ‘there is no such thing as talent.’” She said the other girls in art school made their own clothes, did crafts, and did other things. “They spread themselves too thin” Jeannie told me, “you have to just do your painting in order to be good at it.”

Helen was my friend when my big troubles arrived. She taught me that prayer works, and also she got me to consider Jesus which is why I opened up the New Testament and read “The Gospel of St John” when I was so frightened my beloved dog would not make it. The spiritual path I am on now came from Helen.

But I would never have been open-minded to spirituality at all were it not for Cora. Cora’s solution when things got very bad, which they always did, was to pray. That is how she balanced herself. She had a moment when the landlord had evicted her and all her stuff was on the street, when she lost her balance. But she prayed to Mary, and she regot her balance. Mostly Cora prayed to God, she said “the Father is stronger than the Son” but at times of extreme crisis, and her whole life was crisis, she would remember her mother’s words about Mary and ask Mary for help.


I, who never had any balance, watched Cora hold on to her balance no matter what was thrown at her. And finally asked “How do you pray Cora? Do you just ask God for what you want?” “No Anne” she said “you thank God for already giving it to you.” I didn’t begin to pray till my time of great troubles arrived and Helen said “prayer works.” But it is from praying that I first found out God is real. Everything else stemmed from that. I would be totally desperate and then I would remember about praying. And at first I would think “what good will praying do? I won’t believe God is real till He sits down next to me and smokes a cigarette with me.” But I was so desperate I would pray anyway. And always to my amazement I would find I was calmed down from it.

Irene was my companion during my great travails. She was born in October, she wasn’t one of my teachers like the other girls. We learned from each other. Our friendship consisted of communication. We would share experiences and see what we learned from it. We were partners learning spirituality together. We had the same problems at the same time and we learned from each other.

Gurus matter but so do learning partners. You learn from gurus from the examples they set. I learned from Cora from Jeannie from Helen by watching them. Irene is how I learned from my own experience. You have to have someone to share your experience with to make it real.

My last friend before I left NYC was Marjorie. We would walk our dogs together, or she and I and my dog would walk to Delancy Street for her to place her bet at OTB. Her husband Joe did not follow the horses but Marjorie said he had genius with numbers. She would place the bet for him, and they would always win. I did not know about the winning. Finally after doing it for months, walking with her to Delancy Street, I said “why do you bet Marjorie?” She said “people assume betting means you lose money but Joe wins.” It never occurred to me anyone ever wins, I thought betting was way to lose money. You could say Marjorie taught me about gambling.

I’m trying to think what I learned from Marjorie and it doesn’t seem like very much. Once I wore a black T shirt and she said “you look good in black Anne.” Mostly I loved Marjorie because I loved being with her. I just found everything she said interesting. We both took out lots of library books. She said “it is the women in the Agatha Christie mysteries who are so interesting.” She read books about everyone, rock stars, everyone. She said “I am like Joe Friday, ‘just give me the facts, Ma’am.’” She read a biography of Jim Morrison of “The Doors” and talked about it a lot, so I read it too.


Marjorie was a painter too. “What do you paint Marjorie?” “I just paint paintings of people committing suicide” she said. Marjorie had tried to commit suicide. She went to flea bitten hotel and took pills. But Joe, who was her boyfriend then, found her and took her to Bellevue and had her stomach pumped. He saved her. Marjorie used to say “I don’t know what to do with the rest of my life, I never expected to live past 30.” Marjorie and I were both working as part time secretaries for psychiatrists. Marjorie said “I see the patients when they walk in, they are so upset, and then I see them when they leave, they are so calmed down.” She had so much respect for the psychiatrist she worked for.

Marjorie cared passionately about the Mets and the Yankees. She would listen to the games on the radio as she painted. In some way Marjorie is the most like Bill, not only because they are passionate sports fans, but because from each of them I got to be in another world. Marjorie was born in July, she is not the same astrological sign as my gurus, and she was not a guru, she was a friend.

Our friendship fulfilled itself after I moved to Tucson. I would write to Marjorie but she never wrote back. Finally after a few years she wanted to argue with an astrological insight I had sent her. “I don’t know how to write a letter” she said “I never wrote one before, but I will try to do what you do,” and she wrote back. By then I was totally with my Higher Self so I would write her my experiences with my Higher Self. And after a few months of this, Marjorie connected to her Higher Self too. So we shared our experiences with our Higher Self. We wrote to each other every single day for 6 solid years, sharing our daily life and our experiences with our Higher Self. We each knew every single detail of each others daily life.

And then Helen taught me how to be on internet and I never wrote another letter again. I always hoped Marjorie would understand. I guess I thought she would, because what I learned from Marjorie was understanding.

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