34

_________________________

Seen from the

standpoint of

youth, life is

an endlessly

long future;

from that of

old age it

resembles a

very brief

past. When we

sail away,

objects on the

shore become

ever smaller

and more

difficult to

recognize and

distinguish;

so, too, is it

with our past

years with all

their events

and activities.

_________________________

As time raced by, Julius looked forward with increasing

anticipation to the weekly group meeting. Perhaps his experiences

in the group were more poignant because the weeks of his «one

good year» were running out. But it was not just the events of the

group; everything in his life, large and small, appeared more tender

and vivid. Of course, his weeks hadalways been numbered, but the

numbers had seemed so large, so stretched into a forever future,

that he had never confronted the end of weeks.

Visible endings always cause us to brake. Readers zip

through the thousand pages ofThe Brothers Karamazov until there

are only a dozen remaining pages, and then they suddenly

decelerate, savoring each paragraph slowly, sucking the nectar

from each phrase, each word. Scarcity of days caused Julius to

treasure time; more and more he fell into astonished contemplation

of the miraculous flow of everyday events.

Recently, he had read a piece by an entomologist who

explored the cosmos existing in a roped–off, two–by–two piece of

turf. Digging deeply, he described his sense of awe at the dynamic,

teeming world of predators and prey, nematodes, millipedes,

springtails, armor–plated beetles, and spiderlings. If perspective is

attuned, attention rapt, and knowledge vast, then one enters

everydayness in a perpetual state of wonderment.

So it was for Julius in the group. His fears about the

recurrence of his melanoma had receded, and his panics grew less

frequent. Perhaps his greater comfort stemmed from taking his

doctor`s estimate of «one good year» too literally, almost as a

guarantee. More likely, though, his mode of life was the active

emollient. Following Zarathustra`s path, he had shared his

ripeness, transcended himself by reaching out to others, and lived

in a manner that he would be willing to repeat perpetually

throughout eternity.

He had always remained curious about the direction the

therapy groups would take the following week. Now, with his last

good year visibly shrinking, all feelings were intensified: his

curiosity had evolved into an eager childlike anticipation of the

next meeting. He remembered how, years ago, when he taught

group therapy the beginning students complained of boredom as

they observed ninety minutes of talking heads. Later, when they

learned how to listen to the drama of each patient`s life and to

appreciate the exquisitely complex interaction between members,

boredom dissolved and every student was in place early awaiting

the next installment.

The looming end of the group propelled members to address

their core issues with increased ardor. A visible end to therapy

always has that result; for that reason pioneer practitioners like

Otto Rank and Carl Rogers often set a termination date at the very

onset of therapy.

Stuart did more work in those months than in three previous

years of therapy. Perhaps Philip had jump–started Stuart by serving

as a mirror. He saw parts of himself in Philip`s misanthropy and

realized that every member of the group, except the two of them,

took pleasure in the meetings and considered the group a refuge, a

place of support and caring. Only he and Philip attended under

duress—Philip in order to obtain supervision from Julius, and he

because of his wife`s ultimatum.

At one meeting Pam commented that the group never

formed a true circle because Stuart`s chair was invariably set back

a bit, sometimes only a couple of inches, but big inches. Others

agreed; they had all felt the seating asymmetry but never connected

it to Stuart`s avoidance of closeness.

In another meeting Stuart launched into a familiar grievance

as he described his wife`s attachment to her father, a physician

who rose from chairman of a surgery department, to medical

school dean, to president of a university. When Stuart continued,

as he had in previous meetings, to discuss the impossibility of ever

winning his wife`s regard because she continually compared him

to her father, Julius interrupted to inquire whether he was aware

that he had often told this story before.

After Stuart responded, «But surely we should be bringing

up issues that continue to be bothersome. Shouldn`t we?» Julius

then asked a powerful question: «How did you think we would feel

about your repetition?»

«I imagine you`d find it tedious or boring.»

«Think about that, Stuart. What`s the payoff for you in being

tedious or boring? And then think about why you`ve never

developed empathy for your listeners.»

Stuart did think about that a great deal during the following

week and reported feeling astonished to realize how little he ever

considered that question. «I know my wife often finds me tedious;

her favorite term for me isabsent, and I guess the group is telling

me the same thing. You know, I think I`ve put my empathy into

deep storage.»

A short time later Stuart opened up a central problem: his

ongoing inexplicable anger toward his twelve–year–old son. Tony

opened a Pandora`s box by asking, «What were you like when you

were your son`s age?»

Stuart described growing up in poverty; his father had died

when he was eight, and his mother, who worked two jobs, was

never home when he returned from school. Hence, he had been a

latch–key child, preparing his own dinner, wearing the same soiled

clothes to school day after day. For the most part, he had

succeeded in suppressing the memory of his childhood, but his

son`s presence propelled him back to horrors long forgotten.

«Blaming my son is crazy,” he said, «but I just keep feeling

envy and resentment when I see his privileged life.» It was Tony

who helped crack Stuart`s anger with an effective reframing

intervention: «What about spending some time feeling proud at

providing that better life for your son?»

Almost everyone made progress. Julius had seen this before;

when groups reach a state of ripeness, all the members seem to get

better at once. Bonnie struggled to come to terms with a central

paradox: her rage toward her ex–husband for having left her and

her relief that she was out of a relationship with a man she so

thoroughly disliked.

Gill attended daily AA meetings—seventy meetings in

seventy days—but his marital difficulties increased, rather than

decreased, with his sobriety. That, of course, was no mystery to

Julius: whenever one spouse improves in therapy, the homeostasis

of the marital relationship is upset and, if the marriage is to stay

solvent, the other spouse must change as well. Gill and Rose had

begun couples` therapy, but Gill wasn`t convinced that Rose could

change. However, he was no longer terrified at the thought of

ending the marriage; for the first time he truly understood one of

Julius`s favoritebon mots: «The only way you can save your

marriage is to be willing (and able) to leave it.»

Tony worked at an astonishing pace—as though Julius`s

depleting strength were seeping directly into him. With Pam`s

encouragement, strongly reinforced by everyone else in the group,

he decided to stop complaining of being ignorant and, instead, do

something about it—get an education—and enrolled in three night

courses at the local community college.

However thrilling and gratifying these widespread changes,

Julius`s central attention remained riveted on Philip and Pam. Why

their relationship had taken on such importance for him was

unclear, though Julius was convinced the reasons transcended the

particular. Sometimes when thinking about Pam and Philip, he was

visited by the Talmudic phrase «to redeem one person is to save

the whole world.» The importance of redeeming their relationship

soon loomed large. Indeed it became his raison d`ГЄtre: it was as

though he could save his own life by salvaging something human

from the wreckage of that horrific encounter years before. As he

mused about the meaning of the Talmudic phrase, Carlos entered

his mind. He had worked with Carlos, a young man, a few years

ago. No, it must have been longer, at least ten years, since he

remembered talking to Miriam about Carlos. Carlos was a

particularly unlikable man, crass, self–centered, shallow, sexually

driven, who sought his help when he was diagnosed with a fatal

lymphoma. Julius helped Carlos make some remarkable changes,

especially in the realm of connectivity, and those changes allowed

him to flood his entire life retrospectively with meaning. Hours

before he died he told Julius, «Thank you for saving my life.»

Julius had thought about Carlos many times, but now at this

moment his story assumed a new and momentous meaning—not

only for Philip and Pam, but for saving his own life, as well.

In most ways Philip appeared less pompous and more

approachable in the group, even making occasional eye contact

with most members, save Pam. The six–month mark came and

went without Philip raising the subject of dropping because he had

fulfilled his six–month contract. When Julius raised the issue,

Philip responded, «To my surprise group therapy is a far more

complex phenomenon than I had originally thought. I`d prefer you

supervise my work with clients while I was also attending the

group, but you`ve rejected that idea because of the problems of

‘dual relationships.` My choice is to remain in the group for the

entire year and to request supervision after that.»

«I`m fine with that plan,” Julius agreed, «but it depends, of

course, on the state of my health. The group has four more months

before we end, and after that we`ll have to see. My health

guarantee was only for one year.»

Philip`s change of mind about group participation was not

uncommon. Members often enter a group with one circumscribed

goal in mind, for example, to sleep better, to stop having

nightmares, to overcome a phobia. Then, in a few months, they

often formulate different, more far–reaching goals, for example, to

learn how to love, to recapture zest for life, to overcome loneliness,

to develop self–worth.

From time to time the group pressed Philip to describe more

precisely how Schopenhauer had helped so much when Julius`s

psychotherapy had so utterly failed. Because he had difficulty

answering questions about Schopenhauer without providing the

necessary philosophical background, he requested the group`s

permission to give a thirty–minute lecture on the topic. The group

groaned, and Julius urged him to present the relevant material

more succinctly and conversationally.

The following session Philip embarked upon a brief

lecturette which, he promised, would succinctly answer the

question of how Schopenhauer had helped him.

Though he had notes in his hand, he spoke without referring

to them. Staring at the ceiling, he began, «It`s not possible to

discuss Schopenhauer without starting with Kant, the philosopher

whom, along with Plato, he respected above all others. Kant, who

died in 1804 when Schopenhauer was sixteen, revolutionized

philosophy with his insight that it is impossible for us to

experience reality in any veritable sense because all of our

perceptions, our sense data, are filtered and processed through our

inbuilt neuroanatomical apparatus. All data are conceptualized

through such arbitrary constructs as space and time and—”

«Come on, Philip, get to the point,” interrupted Tony. «How

did this dude help you?»

«Wait, I`m getting there. I`ve spoken for all of three

minutes. This is not the TV news; I can`t explain the conclusions

of one of the world`s greatest thinkers in a sound bite.»

«Hey, hey, right on, Philip. I like that answer,” said Rebecca.

Tony smiled and backed off.

«So Kant`s discovery was that, rather than experience the

world as it`s really out there, we experience our own personalized

processed version of what`s out there. Such properties as space,

time, quantity, causality arein us, not out there—we impose them

on reality. But, then, whatis pure, unprocessed reality? What`s

really out there, that raw entity before we process it?That will

always remain unknowable to us, said Kant.»

«Schopenhauer—how he helped you! Remember? Are we

getting warm?» asked Tony.

«Coming up in ninety seconds. In his future work Kant and

others turned their entire attention to the ways in which we process

primal reality.

«But Schopenhauer—and see, here we are already!—took a

different route. He reasoned that Kant had overlooked a

fundamental and immediate type of data about ourselves: our own

bodies and our own feelings. We can know ourselves from

theinside, he insisted. We have direct, immediate knowledge, not

dependent on our perceptions. Hence, he was the first philosopher

to look at impulses and feelings from theinside, and for the rest of

his career he wrote extensively about interior human concerns: sex,

love, death, dreams, suffering, religion, suicide, relations with

others, vanity, self–esteem. More than any other philosopher, he

addressed those dark impulses deep within that we cannot bear to

know and, hence, must repress.»

«Sounds a little Freudian,” said Bonnie.

«The other way around. Better to say that Freud is

Schopenhauerian. So much of Freudian psychology is to be found

in Schopenhauer. Though Freud rarely acknowledged this

influence, there is no doubt he was quite familiar with

Schopenhauer`s writings: in Vienna during the time Freud was in

school, the 1860s and ‘70s, Schopenhauer`s name was on

everyone`s lips. I believe that without Schopenhauer there could

have been no Freud—and, for that matter, no Nietzsche as we

know him. In fact Schopenhauer`s influence on Freud—

particularly dream theory, the unconscious, and the mechanism of

repression—was the topic of my doctoral dissertation.

«Schopenhauer,” Philip continued, glancing at Tony and

hurrying to avoid being interrupted, «normalized my sexuality. He

made me see how ubiquitous sex was, how, at the deepest levels, it

was the central point of all action, seeping into all human

transactions, influencing even all matters of state. I believe I

recited some of his words about this some months ago.»

«Just to support your point,” Tony said, «I read in the

newspaper the other day that pornography takes in more money

than the music and the film industry combined. That`s huge.»

«Philip,” said Rebecca, «I can guess at it, but I still haven`t

heard you say exactly how Schopenhauer helped you recover from

your sexual compulsion or...uh...addiction.Okay if I use that

term?»

«I need to think about that. I`m not persuaded it`s entirely

accurate,” said Philip.

«Why?» asked Rebecca. «What you described sounds like an

addiction to me.»

«Well, to follow up on what Tony said, have you seen the

figures for males watching pornography on the Internet?»

«Are you into Internet porno?» asked Rebecca.

«I`m not, but I could have taken that route in the past—along

with the majority of men.»

«Right about that,” said Tony. «I admit it, I watch it two or

three times a week. Tell you the truth, I don`t know anyone who

doesn`t.»

«Me, too,” said Gill. «Another of Rose`s pet peeves.»

Heads turned toward Stuart. «Yes, yes, mea culpa—I`ve

been known to indulge a bit.»

«This is what I mean,” said Philip. «So is everyone an

addict?»

«Well,” said Rebecca, «I can see your point. There`s not just

the porn, but there`s also the epidemic of harassment suits. I`ve

defended quite a few in my practice. I saw an article the other day

about a dean of a major law school resigning because of a sex

harassment charge. And, of course, the Clinton case and the way

his potentially great voice has been stilled. And then look at how

many of Clinton`s prosecutors were behaving similarly.»

«Everybody`s got a dark sex life,” said Tony. «Some of it`s

like—who`s unlucky? Maybe males are just being males. Look at

me, look at my jail time in being too pushy in my demands for a

blow job from Lizzie. I know a hundred guys who did worse—and

no consequences—look at Schwarzenegger.»

«Tony, you`re not endearing yourself to the females here. 0r

at least to this female,” said Rebecca. «But I don`t want to lose

focus. Philip, go on, you`re still not making your point.»

«First of all,” Philip continued without a hitch, «rather than

tsk–tsking about all this awful depraved male behavior,

Schopenhauer two centuries ago understood the underlying reality:

the sheer awesome power of the sex drive. It`s the most

fundamental force within us—the will to live, to reproduce—and it

can`t be stilled. It can`t be reasoned away. I`ve already spoken of

how he describes sex seeping into everything. Look at the Catholic

priest scandal, look at every station of human endeavor, every

profession, every culture, every age bracket. This point of view

was exquisitely important to me when I first encountered

Schopenhauer`s work: here was one of the greatest minds of

history, and, for the first time in my life, I felt completely

understood.»

«And?» asked Pam, who had been silent throughout this

discussion.

«And what?» said Philip, visibly nervous as always when

addressed by Pam.

«And what else? That was it? That did it? You got better

because Schopenhauer made you feel understood?»

Philip seemed to take no note of Pam`s irony and responded

in an even tone with a sincere manner. «There was a great deal

more. Schopenhauer made me aware that we are doomed to turn

endlessly on the wheel of will: we desire something, we acquire it,

we enjoy a brief moment of satiation, which rapidly fades into

boredom, which then, without fail, is followed by the next ‘I want.`

There is no exit by way of appeasing desire—one has to leap off

the wheel completely. That`s what Schopenhauer did, and that`s

what I`ve done.»

«Leaping off the wheel? And what does that mean?» Pam

asked.

«It means to escape from willing entirely. It means to fully

accept that our innermost nature is an unappeasable striving, that

this suffering is programmed into us from the beginning, and that

we are doomed by our very nature. It means that we must first

comprehend the essential nothingness of this world of illusion and

then set about finding a way to deny the will. We have to aim, as

all the great artists have, at dwelling in the pure world of platonic

ideas. Some do this through art, some through religious asceticism.

Schopenhauer did it by avoiding the world of desire, by

communion with the great minds of history, and by aesthetic

contemplation—he played the flute an hour or two every day. It

means that one must become observer as well as actor. One must

recognize the life force that exists in all of nature, that manifest

itself through each person`s individual existence, and that will

ultimately reclaim that force when the individual no longer exists

as a physical entity.

«I`ve followed his model closely—my primary relationships

are with great thinkers whom I read daily. I avoid cluttering my

mind with everydayness, and I have a daily contemplative practice

through chess or listening to music—unlike Schopenhauer, I have

no ability to play an instrument.»

Julius was fascinated by this dialogue. Was Philip unaware

of Pam`s rancor? Or frightened of her wrath? And what of Philip`s

solution to his addiction? At times Julius silently marveled at it;

more often he scoffed. And Philip`s comment that when he read

Schopenhauer he felt entirely understoodfor the first time felt like a

slap in the face.What am I, thought Julius,chopped liver? For three

years I worked my ass off trying to understand and empathize with

him. But Julius kept silent; Philip was gradually changing.

Sometimes it is best to store things and return to them at some

propitious time in the future.


A couple of weeks later the group raised these issues for him

during a meeting which began with Rebecca and Bonnie both

telling Pam that she had changed—for the worse—since Philip had

entered the group. All the sweet, loving, generous parts of her had

disappeared from sight, and, though her anger was not as vicious

as in her first confrontation with him, still, Bonnie said, it was

always present and had frozen into something hard and relentless.

«I`ve seen Philip change a great deal in the past few

months,” said Rebecca, «but you`re so stuck—just like you were

with John and Earl. Do you want to hold on to your rage forever?»

Others pointed out that Philip had been polite, that he had

responded fully to every one of Pam`s inquiries, even to those

laced with sarcasm.

«Be polite,” said Pam, «then you will be able to manipulate

others. Just like you can work wax only after you have warmed it.»

«What?» asked Stuart. Others members looked quizzical.

«I`m just quoting Philip`s mentor. That`s one of

Schopenhauer`s choice tidbits of advice—and that`s what I think

of Philip`s politeness. I never mentioned it here, but when I first

considered grad school I considered working on Schopenhauer.

But after several weeks of studying his work and his life, I grew to

despise the man so much I dropped the idea.»

«So, you identify Philip with Schopenhauer?» said Bonnie.

«Identify? Philipis Schopenhauer—twin–brained, the living

embodiment of that wretched man. I could tell you things about his

philosophy and life that would curdle your blood. And, yes, I do

believe Philip manipulates instead of relating—and I`ll tell you

this: it gives me the shivers to think of him indoctrinating others

with Schopenhauer`s life–hating doctrine.»

«Will you ever see Philip as he is now?» said Stuart. «He`s

not the same person you knew fifteen years ago. That incident

between you distorts everything; you can`t get past it, and you

can`t forgive him.»

«That ‘incident`? You make it sound like a hangnail. It`s

more than an incident. As for forgiving, don`t you think some

things exist that are not forgivable?»

«Because you are unforgiving does not mean that things are

unforgivable,” said Philip in a voice uncharacteristically charged

with emotion. «Many years ago you and I made a short–term social

contract. We offered each other sexual excitement and release. I

fulfilled my part of it. I made sure you were sexually gratified, and

I did not feel I had further obligation. The truth is that I got

something and you got something. I had sexual pleasure and

release, and so did you. I owe you nothing. I explicitly stated in our

conversation following that event that I had a pleasurable evening

but did not wish to continue our relationship. How could I have

been clearer?»

«I`m not talking about clarity,” Pam shot back, «I`m talking

about charity—love,caritas, concern for others.»

«You insist that I share your worldview, that I experience

life the same way as you.»

«I only wish you had shared the pain, suffered as I did.»

«In that case I have good news for you. You will be pleased

to know that after that incident your friend Molly wrote a letter

condemning me to every member of my department as well as to

the university president, provost, and the faculty senate. Despite

my receiving a doctorate with distinction and despite my excellent

student evaluations, which incidentally included one from you, not

one member of the faculty was willing to write me a letter of

support or assist me in any way to find a position. Hence I was

never able to get a decent teaching position and for the past years

have struggled as a vagabond lecturer at a series of unworthy third–rate schools.»

Stuart, working hard on developing his empathic sense,

responded, «So you must feel you`ve served your time and that

society exacted a heavy price.»

Philip, surprised, raised his eyes to look at Stuart. He

nodded. «Not as heavy as the one I exacted from myself.»

Philip, exhausted, slumped back in his chair. After a few

moments, eyes turned to Pam, who, unappeased, addressed the

whole group: «Don`t you get that I`m not talking about a single

past criminal act. I`m talking about an ongoing way of being in the

world. Weren`t you all chilled just now when Philip described his

behavior in our act of love as his ‘obligations to our social

contract`? And what about his comments that, despite three years

with Julius, he felt understood for the ‘first time` only when he

read Schopenhauer. You all know Julius. Can you believe that after

three years Julius did not understand him?»

The group remained silent. After several moments Pam

turned to Philip. «You want to know the reason you felt understood

by Schopenhauer and not Julius? I`ll tell you why: because

Schopenhauer is dead, dead over one hundred and forty years, and

Julius is alive. And you don`t know how to relate to the living.»

Philip did not look as though he would respond, and

Rebecca rushed in, «Pam, you`re being vicious. What will it take to

appease you?»

«Philip`s not evil, Pam,” said Bonnie, «he`s broken. Can`t

you see that? Don`t you know the difference?»

Pam shook her head and said, «I can`t go any farther today.»

After a palpably uncomfortable silence Tony, who had been

uncharacteristically quiet, intervened. «Philip, I`m not pulling a

rescue here, but I`ve been wondering something. Have you had any

follow–up feelings to Julius`s telling us a few months ago about his

sexual stuff after his wife died?»

Philip seemed grateful for the diversion. «What

feelingsshould I have?»

«I don`t know about the ‘should.` I`m just asking what

youdid feel. Here`s what I`m wondering: when you were first

seeing him in therapy, would you have felt Julius understood you

more if he revealed that he too had personal experience with sexual

pressure?»

Philip nodded. «That`s an interesting question. The answer

is, maybe, yes. It might have helped. I have no proof, but

Schopenhauer`s writings suggest that he had sexual feelings

similar to mine in intensity and relentlessness. I believe that`s why

I felt so understood by him.

«But there`s something I`ve omitted in talking about my

work with Julius, and I want to set the record straight. When I told

him that his therapy had failed to be of value to me in any way, he

confronted me with the same question raised in the group a little

while ago: why would I want such an unhelpful therapist for a

supervisor? His question helped me recall a couple of things from

our therapy that stuck with me and had, in fact, proved useful.»

«Like what?» asked Tony.

«When I described my typical routinized evening of sexual

seduction—flirtation, pickup, dinner, sexual consummation—and

asked him whether he was shocked or disgusted, he responded

only that it seemed like an exceptionally boring evening. That

response shocked me. It got me realizing how much I had

arbitrarily infused my repetitive patterns with excitement.»

«And the other thing that stuck with you?» asked Tony.

«Julius once asked what epitaph I might request for my

tombstone. When I didn`t come up with anything, he offered a

suggestion: ‘He fucked a lot.` And then he added that the same

epitaph could serve for my dog as well.»

Some members whistled or smiled. Bonnie said, «That`s

mean, Julius.»

«No,” Philip said, «it wasn`t said in a mean way—he meant

to shock me, to wake me up. And itdid stick with me, and I think it

played a role in my decision to change my life. But I guess I

wanted to forget these incidents. Obviously, I don`t like

acknowledging that he`s been helpful.»

«Do you know why?» asked Tony.

«I`ve been thinking about it. Perhaps I feel competitive. If he

wins, I lose. Perhaps I don`t want to acknowledge that his

approach to counseling, so different from mine, works. Perhaps I

don`t want to get too close to him. Perhaps she,” Philip nodded

toward Pam, «is right: I can`t relate to a living person.»

«At least not easily,” said Julius. «But you`re getting closer.»


And so the group continued over the next several weeks: perfect

attendance, hard productive work, and, aside from repeated

anxious inquiries into Julius`s health and the ongoing tension

between Pam and Philip, the group felt trusting, intimate,

optimistic, even serene. No one was prepared for the bombshell

about to hit the group.

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