40

_________________________

At the end

of his

life, no

man, if he

be sincere

and in

possession

of his

faculties,

would ever

wish to go

though it

again.

Rather

than this,

he will

much

prefer to

choose

complete

nonexisten

ce.

_________________________

Members filed in for the penultimate meeting with

contrasting feelings: some felt sorrow about the looming

end of the group, some thought about personal work they

had left undone, some scanned Julius`s face as though to

imprint it in their minds, and all were enormously curious

about Pam`s response to Philip`s revelations of the previous

meeting.

But Pam did not offer satisfaction; instead she

extracted a sheet of paper from her purse, slowly unfolded

it, and read aloud:

A carpenter does not come up to me and say, «listen to

me discourse about the art of carpentry.» Instead he

makes a contract for a house and builds it.... Do the

same thing yourself: eat like a man; drink like a man....

get married, have children, take part in civic life, learn

how to put up with insults, and tolerate other people.

Then, turning to Philip, she said, «Written by...guess

who?»

Philip shrugged.

«Your man, Epictetus. That`s why I bring it here. I

know you revere him—you brought Julius one of his

fables. Why am I quoting him? I`m merely speaking to the

point raised by Tony and Stuart and others last week that

you`ve never been ‘in life.` I believe that you selectively

pick and choose various passages from philosophers to

support your position and—”

Gill interrupted, «Pam, this is our next–to–last

meeting. If this is another one of your get–Philip tirades, I

don`t personally feel I`ve got time for it. Do what you tell

me to do. Get real and talk about your feelings. You must

have had strong reactions to what Philip said about you last

meeting.»

«No, no, hear me out,” Pam said quickly. «This is not

‘get–Philip` stuff. My motivations are different. The iron is

cooling. I`m trying to say something helpful to Philip. I

think he`s compounded his life avoidance by selectively

gathering support from philosophy. He draws from

Epictetus when he needs him and overlooks the same

Epictetus when he doesn`t.»

«That`s a great point, Pam,” said Rebecca. «You`re

putting your finger on something important. You know, I

bought a copy of a little paperback called theWisdom of

Schopenhauer at a used–book store and have been

skimming it the last couple of nights. It`s all over the place:

some of it`s fabulous and some outrageous. There`s a

passage I read yesterday that floored me. He says that if we

go into any cemetery, knock on the tombstones, and ask the

spirits dwelling there if they`d like to live again, every one

of them would emphatically refuse.» She turned to Philip.

«You believe this?» Without waiting for him to respond,

Rebecca continued, «Well, I don`t. He`s not speaking for

me. I`d like to check it out. Could we get a vote here?»

«I`d choose to live again. Life`s a bitch, but it`s a

kick too,” said Tony. A chorus of «me too» spread around

the group. «I hesitate for one reason,” explained Julius.

«The idea of once again bearing the pain of my wife`s

death; but, even so, I`d say yes. I love being alive.» Only

Philip held silent.

«Sorry,” he said, «but I agree with Schopenhauer.

Life is suffering from start to finish. It would have been

better if life, all life, had never been.»

«Better not have beenfor whom ?» asked Pam. «For

Schopenhauer, you mean? Apparently not for the folks in

this room.»

«Schopenhauer is hardly alone in his position.

Consider the millions of Buddhists. Remember that the first

of the Buddha`s four noble truths is that life is suffering.»

«Is that a serious answer, Philip? What`s happened to

you? When I was a student you lectured brilliantly on

modes of philosophical argument. What kind of argument

is this? Truth by proclamation? Truth by appeal to

authority? That`s the way of religion, and yet surely you

follow Schopenhauer in his atheism. And has it occurred to

you that Schopenhauer was chronically depressed and that

the Buddha lived in a place and at a time when human

suffering—pestilence, starvation—was rampant and that,

indeed, life then was unmitigated suffering for most? Has it

occurred—”

«What kind of philosophic argument isthat ?»

retorted Philip. «Every half–way literate sophomore student

knows the difference between genesis and validity.»

«Wait, wait,” interjected Julius. «Let`s pause for a

minute and check in.» He scanned the group. «How are the

rest of you guys feeling about the last few minutes?»

«Good stuff,” said Tony. «They were really duking it

out. But with padded gloves.»

«Right, better than silent glares and hidden daggers,”

said Gill.

«Yeah, I liked it a lot better,” agreed Bonnie. «Sparks

were flying between Pam and Philip but cooler sparks.»

«Me, too,” said Stuart, «until the last couple of

minutes.»

«Stuart,” said Julius, «in your first meeting here you

said your wife accused you of talking in telegrams.»

«Yep, you`re stingy today. A few more words won`t

cost you any more,” said Bonnie.

«Right. Maybe I`m regressing because...you know,

this being the next–to–last meeting. Can`t be sure—I don`t

feel sad; as usual I have to infer my feelings. Here`s

something I do know, Julius. I love your taking care of me,

calling on me, staying on my case. How`s that?»

«That`s great, and I`ll keep doing it. You said you

liked Pam and Philip talking ‘until the last couple of

minutes.` So, what about those last minutes?»

«At first it felt good–natured—more like a family

squabble. But that last comment by Philip—that had a nasty

edge to it. I mean the comment starting with» Every

halfway literate sophomore student. «I didn`t like that,

Philip. It was a put–down. If you said that to me, I`d have

felt insulted. And threatened—I`m not even sure what

philosophical arguement means.»

«I agree with Stuart, «said Rebecca. «Tell me, Philip,

whatwere you feeling? Did you want to insult Pam?»

«Insult her? No, not at all. That was the last thing I

wanted to do,” responded Philip. «I

felt...uh...upliftedorreleased —not sure of the right

word—by her saying the iron was no longer red–hot. Let`s

see, what else? I knew that one of her motives in bringing

in the quote by Epictetus was to trap and confound me.

That was obvious. But I kept in mind what Julius said to

me when I brought in that fable for him—that he was

pleased by the effort and the caring behind the act.»

«So,” said Tony, «let me pull a Julius. Here`s what I

hear: you intended one thing but your words resulted in

another thing entirely.»

Philip looked quizzical.

«I mean,” said Tony, «you said that insulting Pam

was the last thing in the world you wanted to do. Yet that

was exactly what you did, wasn`t it?»

Philip, reluctantly, nodded agreement.

«So,” Tony continued, sounding like a triumphant

attorney in cross–examination, «you need to get your

intentions and your behavior on the same page. You need

to get themcongruent —do I have the word right?» Tony

looked at Julius who nodded his head. «Andthat`s why you

should be in therapy. Congruence is what therapy is all

about.»

«Well argued,” said Philip. «I have no

counterargument. You`re right. That is why I need

therapy.»

«What?» Tony could not believe his ears. He glanced

at Julius, who gave him an «atta boy» nod.

«Catch me, I`m going to faint,” said Rebecca who

slumped back in her chair.

«Me, too,” echoed Bonnie and Gill, slumping back as

well.

Philip looked around at the sight of half the group in

mock unconsciousness and, for the first time since entering

the group, grinned.

Philip ended the group levity by returning to the

issue of his personal approach to counseling. «Rebecca`s

discussion of Schopenhauer`s tombstone comment implies

that my approach or any approach based on his point of

view is invalid. Lest you forget, I struggled for years with a

serious affliction which Julius failed to cure, and I was only

healed by patterning my path upon Schopenhauer`s.»

Julius instantly supported Philip. «I don`t deny

you`ve done good work. Most therapists today would say

it`s not possible to overcome a severe sex addiction on your

own. Contemporary treatment involves long–term work—I

mean many years—in a structured recovery program

consisting of individual therapy and groups meeting

multiple times a week often along twelve–step principles.

But no such recovery program existed back then, and,

frankly, I doubt whether you would have found it

compatible.

«So,” Julius continued, «I want to go on record as

saying that your feat is remarkable: the techniques by

which you controlled your runaway drives worked—better

than anything I offered, even though I gave it my best

shot.»

«I`ve never thought otherwise,” said Philip.

«But, here`s a question, Philip, is there a possibility

your methods are now superannuated?»

«Super...what?» asked Tony.

«Superannuated,” whispered Philip, who was sitting

next to Tony—super (Latin forbeyond ) plus annus

(years)—in other words,outmoded, obsolete. ”

Tony nodded thanks.

«The other day,” Julius continued, «when I was

wondering how to bring this home to you, an image came

to mind. Imagine an ancient city that built a high wall to

protect it from the wild torrents of an adjacent river.

Centuries later, though the river had long dried up, the city

still invested considerable resources in maintaining that

wall.»

«You mean,” said Tony, «continuing to use some

solution even when the problem had gone away—like

wearing a bandage long after the cut had healed.»

«Precisely,” said Julius. «Maybe the bandage is a

better metaphor—right to the point.»

«I don`t agree,” Philip addressed both Julius and

Tony, «that my wound is healed or that containment is no

longer necessary. For proof one need only look at my

extreme discomfort levels in this group.»

«That`s not a good measure,” said Julius. «You`ve

had little experience with intimacy, with expressing

feelings directly, with getting feedback and disclosing

yourself. This is new for you; you`ve been in seclusion for

years, and I toss you into this high–powered group.Of

course that`s going to feel uncomfortable. But what I`m

really referring to is the overt problem, the sexual

compulsion—and perhaps that`s gone. You`re older, been

through a lot, maybe you`ve entered the land of gonadal

tranquillity. Nice place, good sunny climate. I`ve dwelled

there comfortably for many years.»

«I would say,” Tony added, «that Schopenhauer has

cured you, but now you need to be saved from the

Schopenhauer cure.»

Philip opened his mouth to respond but then closed it

and pondered Tony`s statement.

«Another thing,” Julius added, «when you think

about your stress in the group, don`t forget the heavy–duty

pain and guilt you`ve faced here as a result of a chance

encounter with a person from your past.»

«I`ve heard nothing about guilt from Philip,” said

Pam.

Philip responded instantly, facing Pam. «If I had

knownthen what I knownow about the years of pain you`ve

suffered,I would never have done what I did. As I said

before, you were unlucky to have crossed my path. The

person I was then did not think of consequences. Automatic

pilot—that person was on automatic pilot.»

Pam nodded and caught his glance. Philip held it for

a moment and then turned his attention back to Julius. «I

grasp your point about the magnitude of the interpersonal

stress in this group, but I insist that is only part of the

picture. And it is here that our basic orientations are at

odds. I agree there is stress in relationships with other

beings. And possibly reward as well—I`ll grant you that

last point though I myself have never known it.

Nonetheless, I`m convinced that in the very state of

existing there is tragedy and suffering. Permit me to cite

Schopenhauer for only two minutes.»

Without waiting for a response, Philip, staring

upward, began reciting:

In the first place a man never is happy but spends his

whole life in striving after something which he thinks

will make him so; he seldom attains his goal and, when

he does it is only to be disappointed: he is mostly

shipwrecked in the end, and comes into harbor with

masts and riggings gone. And then it is all one whether

he has been happy or miserable; for his life was never

anything more than a present moment, always

vanishing; and now it is over.

After a long silence Rebecca said, «That sends

shivers up my back.»

«I know what you mean,” said Bonnie.

«I know I`m sounding like an uptight English

professor,” said Pam, addressing the entire group, «but I

urge you, don`t be misled by rhetoric. That quote adds

nothing of substance to what Philip has been saying all

along; it only says it more persuasively. Schopenhauer was

a brilliant stylist and wrote the best prose of any

philosopher. Except for Nietzsche, of course—no one

wrote better than Nietzsche.»

«Philip, I want to respond to your comment about

our basic orientations,” said Julius. «I don`t believe we`re

as far apart as you think. I don`t disagree with much that

you and Schopenhauer have said about the tragedy of the

human condition. Where you go east and I go west is when

we turn to the question ofwhat to do about it. How shall we

live? How to face our mortality? How to live with the

knowledge that we are simply life–forms, thrown into an

indifferent universe, with no preordained purpose?

«As you know,” Julius continued, «though I`m more

interested in philosophy than most therapists, I`m no

expert. Yet, I`m aware of other bold thinkers who have not

flinched from these raw facts of life and who have arrived

at entirely different solutions than Schopenhauer. I`m

thinking particularly of Camus, Sartre, and Nietzsche, who

all advocate life engagement rather than Schopenhauer`s

pessimistic resignation. The one I know best is Nietzsche.

You know, when I first received my diagnosis and was in a

state of panic, I openedThus Spoke Zarathustra and was

both calmed and inspired—especially by his life–celebratory comment that we should live life in such a

manner that we`d say yes if we were offered the

opportunity to live our life again and again in precisely the

same manner.»

«How did that relieve you?» asked Philip.

«I looked at my life and felt that I had lived it right—

no regrets frominside though, of course, I hated theoutside

events that took my wife from me. It helped me decide how

I should live my remaining days: I should continue doing

exactly what had always offered me satisfaction and

meaning.»

«I didn`t know that about you and Nietzsche, Julius,”

said Pam. «It makes me feel even closer to you

becauseZarathustra, melodramatic as it is, remains one of

my absolutely favorite books. And I`ll tell you my favorite

quote from it. It`s when Zarathustra says, ‘Was that life?

Well, then, once again!` I love people who embrace life and

get turned off by those who shrink away from it—I`m

thinking of Vijay in India. Next ad I run in a personal

column maybe I`ll post that Nietzsche quote and the

Schopenhauer tombstone quote side–by–side and ask

respondents to choose between them. That would winnow

out the nay–sayers.

«I have another thought I want to share.» Pam turned

to face Philip. «I guess it`s obvious that after the last

meeting I thought about you a lot. I`m teaching a course on

biography, and in my reading last week I ran across an

amazing passage in Erik Erikson`s biography of Martin

Luther. It goes something like this:‘Luther elevated his own

neurosis to that of a universal patient–hood and then tried

to solve for the world what he could not solve for himself.` I

believe that Schopenhauer, like Luther, seriously fell into

this error and that you`ve followed his lead.»

«Perhaps,” responded Philip in a conciliatory

fashion, «neurosis is a social construct, and we may need a

different kind of therapy and a different kind of philosophy

for different temperaments—one approach for those who

are replenished by closeness to others and another approach

for those who choose the life of the mind. Consider, for

example, the large numbers who are drawn to Buddhist

meditation retreats.»

«That remind me of something I`ve been meaning to

say to you, Philip,” said Bonnie. «I think your view of

Buddhism misses something. I`ve attended Buddhist

retreats where the focus has been directed outwards—on

loving kindness and connectivity—not on solitude. A good

Buddhist can be active, in the world, even politically

active—all in the service of loving others.»

«So it`s becoming clearer,” said Julius, «that your

selectivity error involves human relationships. To give

another example: you`ve cited the views about death or

solitude of several philosophers but never speak of what

these same philosophers—and I`m thinking of the Greek

philosophers—have said about the joys ofphilia, of

friendship. I remember one of my own supervisors quoting

me a passage from Epicurus saying that friendship was the

most important ingredient for a happy life and that eating

without a close friend was living the life of a lion or a wolf.

And Aristotle`s definition of a friend—one who promotes

the better and the sounder in the other—comes close to my

idea of the ideal therapist.»

«Philip,” Julius asked, «how is this all feeling today?

Are we laying too much on you at once?»

«I`m tempted to defend myself by pointing out that

not one of the great philosophers ever married, except

Montaigne, who remained so disinterested in his family

that he was unsure how many children he had. But, with

only one remaining meeting, what`s the point? It`s hard to

listen constructively when my entire course, everything I

plan to do as a counselor, is under attack.»

«Speaking for myself, that`s not true. There`s a great

deal you can contribute, much that youhave contributed to

the members here. Right?» Julius scanned the group.

After lots of strenuous head–nodding affirmation for

Philip, Julius continued: «But, if you`re to be a counselor,

youmust enter the social world. I want to remind you that

many, I would betmost, of those who will consult you in

your practice will need help in their interpersonal

relationships, and if you want to support yourself as a

therapist, youmust become an expert in these matters—

there`s no other way. Just take a look around the group:

everyone here entered because of conflicted relationships.

Pam came in because of problems with the men in her life,

Rebecca because of the way her looks influenced her

relations with others, Tony because of a mutually

destructive relationship with Lizzy and his frequent fights

with other men, and so on for everyone.»

Julius hesitated, then decided to include all the

members. «Gill entered because of marital conflict. Stuart

because his wife was threatening to leave him, Bonnie

because of loneliness and problems with her daughter and

ex–husband. You see what I mean, relationships cannot be

ignored. And, don`t forget, that`s the very reason I insisted

you enter the group before offering you supervision.»

«Perhaps there`s no hope for me. My slate of

relationships, past and present, is blank. Not with family,

not with friends, not with lovers. I treasure my solitude, but

the extent of it would, I think, be shocking to you.»

«A couple times after group,” said Tony, «I`ve asked

if you wanted to have a bite together. You always refused,

and I figured it was because you had other plans.»

«I haven`t had a meal with anyone for twelve years.

Maybe an occasional rushed sandwich lunch, but not a real

meal. You`re right, Julius, I guess Epicurus would say I

live the life of a wolf. A few weeks ago after that meeting

when I got so upset, one of the thoughts that circled in my

mind was that the mansion of thought I had built for my life

was unheated. The group is warm. This room is warm but

my living places are arctic cold. And as for love, it`s

absolutely alien to me.»

«All those women, hundreds of them, you told us,”

said Tony, «there must have been some love going around.

You must have felt it. Some of them must have loved you.»

«That was long ago. If any had love for me, I made

sure to avoid them. And even if they felt love, it was not

love, for me, the real me—it was love for my act, my

technique.»

«What`s the real you?» asked Julius.

Philip`s voice grew deadly serious. «Remember what

I did for a job when we first met? I was an exterminator—a

clever chemist who invented ways to kill insects, or to

render them infertile, by using their own hormones. How`s

that for irony? The killer with the hormone gun.»

«So the real you is?» Julius persisted.

Philip looked directly into Julius`s eyes: «A monster.

A predator. Alone. An insect killer.» His eyes filled with

tears. «Full of blind rage. An untouchable. No one who has

known me has loved me. Ever. No onecould love me.»

Suddenly, Pam rose and walked toward Philip. She

signaled Tony to change seats with her and, sitting down

next to Philip, took his hand in hers, and said in a soft

voice, «Icould have loved you, Philip. You were the most

beautiful, the most magnificent man I had ever seen. I

called and wrote you for weeks after you refused to see me

again. I could have loved you, but you polluted—”

«Shhh.» Julius reached over and touched Pam on the

shoulder to silence her. «No, Pam, don`t go there. Stay with

the first part, say it again.»

«I could have loved you.»

«And you were the...” prompted Julius.

«And you were the most beautiful man I had ever

seen.»

«Again,” whispered Julius.

Still holding Philip`s hand and seeing his tears flow

freely, Pam repeated, «I could have loved you, Philip. You

were the most beautiful man...”

At this Philip, with his hands to his face, rose and

bolted from the room.

Tony immediately headed to the door. «That`s my

cue.»

Julius, grunting as he too rose, stopped Tony. «No,

Tony, this one`s on me.» He strode out and saw Philip at

the end of the hall facing the wall, head resting on his

forearm, sobbing. He put his arm around Philip`s shoulder

and said, «It`s good to let it all out, but we must go back.»

Philip, sobbing more loudly and heaving as he tried

to catch his breath, shook his head vigorously.

«You must go back, my boy. This is what you came

for, this very moment, and you mustn`t squander it. You`ve

worked well today—exactly the way you have to work to

become a therapist. Only a couple of minutes left in the

meeting. Just come back with me and sit in the room with

the others. I`ll watch out for you.»

Philip reached around and briefly, just for a moment,

put his hand atop Julius`s hand, then raised himself erect

and walked alongside Julius back to the group. As Philip

sat down, Pam touched his arm to comfort him, and Gill,

sitting on the other side, clasped his shoulder.

«How areyou doing, Julius?» asked Bonnie. «You

look tired.»

«I`m feeling wonderful in my head, I`m so swept

away, so admiring of the work this group has done—I`m so

glad to have been a part of this. Physically, yes, I have to

admit I am ailing, and weary. But I have more than enough

juice left for our last meeting next week.»

«Julius,” said Bonnie, «okay to bring a ceremonial

cake for our last meeting?»

«Absolutely, bring any kind of carrot cake you

wish.»


But there was to be no formal farewell meeting. The

following day Julius was stricken by searing headaches.

Within a few hours he passed into a coma and died three

days later. At their usual Monday–afternoon time the group

gathered at the coffee shop and shared the ceremonial

carrot cake in silent grief.

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