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relates. The idea has come up a lot here—what Philip did to me years ago
was to use me as an it.»
«Thanks, Pam, I got it,” said Tony, and then turned to Philip. «Are
we all on the same page?»
Philip looked at Tony in a quizzical manner.
«You don`t know whatthat means?» said Tony. «Gotta get you a
dictionary of twentieth–century talk. Don`t you ever turn on your TV?»
«I don`t have a TV,” said Philip in an even, nondefensive tone. «But
if you are asking, Tony, whether I agree with Pam`s response about Buber,
the answer is yes—I could not have said it as well.»
Julius was fascinated:Philip uttering Tony`s and Pam`s name?
Philip complimenting Pam? Were these merely evanescent events, or
might they be heralding a momentous change? How much he loved being
alive, Julius thought—alive in this group.
«You still got the floor, Philip. I interrupted you,” said Tony.
Philip continued, «So I was saying to Julius...I mean, I was saying
to you»—he turned to Julius—right?»
«Right, Philip,” Julius replied. «I think you`re going to be a fast
learner.»
«So,” Philip went on, speaking in the measured tone of a
mathematician, «First proposition: you wish to have an I–thou encounter
with each client. Second proposition: an вЂI–thou` consists of a fully
reciprocal relationship—by definition it cannot be a unilateral intimacy.
Third: in the last couple of meetings people here have revealed a lot about
themselves. Hence my entirely justifiable question to you: are you not
required to reciprocate?»
After a moment of silence Philip added, «So that`s the conundrum. I
intended only to observe how a counselor of your persuasion handles a
client`s request for parity.»
«So, your motivation is primarily a test of whether I`ll be consistent
in my approach?»
«Yes, not a test ofyou, personally, but of yourmethod. ”
«Okay, I appreciate your position that the question is in the service
of your intellectual understanding. Now just one further query and then I`ll
proceed to answer you. Why now? Why askthis particular question at this
particular time? ”
«First time it was possible. That was the first slight break in the
pace.»
«I`m not convinced. I think there`s more. Again,why now ?» Julius
repeated.
Philip shook his head in confusion. «This may not be what you`re
asking, but I`ve been thinking of a point Schopenhauer made to the effect
that there are few things that put people in a better humor than to hear of
another`s misfortune. Schopenhauer cites a poem of Lucretius»—«first
centuryB.C. Roman poet,” Philip said in an aside to Tony—«in which one
takes pleasure from standing on the seashore and watching others at sea
struggle with a terrible storm. вЂIt is a joy for us,` he says, вЂto observe evils
from which we are free.` Is this not one of the powerful forces taking
place in a therapy group?»
«That`s interesting, Philip,” said Julius. «But entirely off the point.
Let`s stay focused now on the question of вЂwhy now?`”
Philip still appeared confused.
«Let me help, Philip,” Julius prodded. «I`m belaboring this for a
reason—one which will provide a particularly clear illustration of the
differences between our two approaches. I`d suggest that the answer to
вЂwhy now?` is intimately related to your interpersonal issues. Let me
illustrate: can you summarize your experience in the last couple of
meetings?»
Silence. Philip appeared perplexed.
Tony said, «Seems pretty obvious to me, Professor.»
Philip looked at Tony with raised eyebrows. «Obvious?»
«Well, if you want it spelled it out, here it is: you enter this group
and make a lot of deep–sounding pronouncements. You pull some things
out of your philosophy bag that we all dig. Some people here think you`re
pretty wise—like Rebecca and Bonnie, for example. And me, too. You
supply all the answers. You`re a counselor yourself, and it looks like
you`re competing some with Julius. Same page?»
Tony looked questioningly at Philip, who nodded slightly,
indicating that he should continue.
«So here comes good ole Pam back, and what does she do? Pulls
your cover! Turns out you`ve got a messy past. Real messy. You`re not
Mister Clean after all. In fact you really fucked Pam over. You`re knocked
off your pedestal. Now yougot to be upset about this. And so what do you
do? You come in here today and say to Julius: what`syour secret life? You
want to knockhim off his pedestal, level the playing ground. Same page?»
Philip nodded slightly.
«That`s the way I see it. Hell, what else could it be?»
Philip fixed his eyes on Tony and responded, «Your observations
are not without merit.» He turned and addressed Julius: «Perhaps I owe
you an apology—Schopenhauer always warned against allowing our
subjective experience to contaminate objective observation.»
«And an apology to Pam? How about Pam?» asked Bonnie.
«Yes, I suppose. That too.» Philip glanced fleetingly in her
direction. Pam looked away.
When it became apparent that Pam had no intention of responding,
Julius said, «I`ll let Pam speak for herself at her own pace, Philip, but as
for me—no apology is necessary. The very reason you`re here is to
understand what you say and why you say it. And as for Tony`s
observations—I think they`re right on target.»
«Philip, I want to ask you something,” said Bonnie. «It`s a question
that Julius has asked me many times. «How`d you feel after you left the
meeting the last couple of sessions?»
«Not good. Distracted. Even agitated.»
«That`s what I imagined. I could see that,” said Bonnie. «Any
thoughts about Julius`s final comment to you last week—about being
given a gift by Stuart and Rebecca?»
«I didn`t think about that. I tried but just felt tense. Sometimes I fear
that all the strife and clamor here is a destructive distraction taking me
away from the pursuits I really value. All this focus on the past and on our
desires for change in the future only makes us forget the fundamental fact
that life is nothing but a present moment, which is forever vanishing. What
is the point of all this turmoil, given the ultimate destination of
everything?»
«I see what Tony means about you never having any fun. It`s so
bleak,” said Bonnie.
«I call it realism.»
«Well, go back to that bit about life being only a present moment,”
Bonnie insisted. «I`m just asking about the present moment—your present
response to being given a gift. Also, I`ve got a question about our
postgroup coffee sessions. You charged out pretty quickly after the last
two meetings. Did you think you weren`t invited? No, let me put it this
way: what is your present moment feeling about a coffee session after this
meeting?»
«No, I am unaccustomed to so much talking—I need to recover. At
the end of this meeting I will be very glad to be through for the day.»
Julius looked at his watch. «We`ve got to stop—we`re running over.
Philip, I won`t forget my contract with you. You fulfilled your part. I`ll
honor mine next meeting.»
27
_________________________
Weshould set a limit
to our wishes, curb
our desires, and
subdue our anger,
always mindful of
the fact that the
individual can
attain only an
infinitely small
share of the things
that are worth
having…
_________________________
After the session the group gathered for about forty–five minutes at their
usual Union Street coffee shop. Because Philip was not present, the group
did not talk about him. Nor did they continue to discuss the issues raised
in the meeting. Instead they listened with interest to Pam`s lively
description of her trip to India. Both Bonnie and Rebecca were intrigued
by Vijay, her gorgeous, mysterious, cinnamon–scented train companion,
and encouraged her to respond to his frequent e–mails. Gill was upbeat,
thanked everyone for their support, and said that he was going to meet
with Julius, get serious about abstinence, and begin AA. He thanked Pam
for her good work with him.
«Go Pam,” said Tony. «The tough–love lady strikes again.»
Pam returned to her condo in the Berkeley hills just above the
university. She often congratulated herself for having the good sense to
hold on to this property when she married Earl. Perhaps, unconsciously,
she knew she might need it again. She loved the blond wood in every
room, her Tibetan scatter rugs, and the warm sunlight streaming into the
living room in the late afternoon. Sipping a glass of Prosecco, she sat on
her deck and watched the sun sink behind San Francisco.
Thoughts about the group swirled in her mind. She thought about
Tony doffing the costume of the group jerk and, with surgical precision,
showing Philip how clueless he was about his own behavior. That was
priceless. She wished she had it on tape. Tony was an uncut gem—bit by
bit, more of his real sparkle was becoming visible. And his comment about
her dispensing «tough love»? Did he or anyone else sense how much the
«tough» outweighed the «love» in her response to Gill? Unloading on Gill
was a great pleasure, only slightly diminished by its having been helpful to
him. «Chief justice,” he had called her. Well, at least he had the guts to say
that—but then he tried to undo it by unctuously complimenting her.
She recalled her first sight of Gill—how she was momentarily
attracted to his physical presence, those muscles bulging out of his vest
and jacket, and how quickly he had disappointed her by his pusillanimous
contortions to please everyone and his whining, his endless whining, about
Rose—his frigid, strong–willed, ninety–five–pound Rose—who had the
good sense, it now turns out, not to be impregnated by a drunk.
After only a few meetings Gill had assumed his place in the long
line of male losers in her life, beginning with her father, who wasted his
law degree because he couldn`t stand the competitive life of an attorney
and settled for a safe civil service position of teaching secretaries how to
write business letters and then lacked the fortitude to fight the pneumonia
that killed him before he could start drawing his pension. Behind him in
line there was Aaron, her acne–faced high school gutless boyfriend who
passed up Swarthmore to live at home and commute to the University of
Maryland, the school nearest home; and Vladimir, who wanted to marry
her even though he had never gotten tenure and would be a journeyman
English composition lecturer forever; and Earl, her soon–to–be ex, who
was phony all the way from his Grecian formula hair dye to his Cliff note
mastery of the classics and whose stable of women patients, including
herself, offered easy pickings; and John, who was too much of a coward to
leave a dead marriage and join her. And the latest addition, Vijay? Well,
Bonnie and Rebecca could have him! She couldn`t rouse much enthusiasm
for a man who would need an all–day equanimity retreat to recover from
the stress of ordering breakfast.
But these thoughts about all the others were incidental. The person
who compelled her attention was Philip, that pompous Schopenhauer
clone, that dolt sitting there, mouthing absurdities, pretending to be
human.
After dinner Pam strolled to her bookshelves and examined her
Schopenhauer section. For a time she had been a philosophy major and
had planned a dissertation on Schopenhauer`s influence on Becket and
Gide. She had loved Schopenhauer`s prose—the best stylist of any
philosopher, save Nietzsche. And she had admired his intellect, his range,
and his courage to challenge all supernatural beliefs, but the more she
learned about Schopenhauer the person, the more revulsion she had felt.
She opened an old volume of his complete essays from her bookshelf and
began reading aloud some of her highlighted passages in his essay titled
«Our Relation to Others.»
• «The only way to attain superiority in dealing with men is to let it
be seen you are independent of them.»
• «To disregard is to win regard.»
• «By being polite and friendly, you can make people pliable and
obliging: hence politeness is to human nature what warmth is to
wax.»
Nowshe remembered why she had hated Schopenhauer. And
Philip a counselor? And Schopenhauer his model? And Julius
teaching him? It was all beyond belief.
She reread the last aphorism:«Politeness is to human nature
what warmth is to wax.» Hmm, so he thinks he can work me like
wax, undo what he did to my life with a gratuitous compliment on
my comments about Buber, or allowing me to pass through a door
first. Well, fuck him!
Later she tried to find peace by soaking in her Jacuzzi and
playing a tape of Goenka`s chanting, which often soothed her with
its hypnotic lilting melody, its sudden stops and starts and changes
of tempo and timbre. She even tried Vipassana meditation for a
few minutes, but she could not retrieve the equanimity it had once
offered. Stepping out of the tub, she inspected herself in the mirror.
She sucked in her abdomen, elevated her breasts, considered her
profile, patted her pubic hair, crossed her legs in an alluring pose.
Damn good for a woman of thirty–three.
Images of her first view of Philip fifteen years ago swiveled
into her mind. Sitting on his desk, casually handing out the class
syllabus to students entering the room, flashing a big smile her
way. He was a dashing man then, gorgeous, intelligent,
otherworldly, impervious to distractions. What the fuck happened
tothat man? And that sex, that force, doing what he wanted,
ripping off my underwear, smothering me with his body. Don`t kid
yourself, Pam—you loved it. A scholar with a fabulous grasp of
Western intellectual history, and a great teacher, too, perhaps the
best she ever had. That`s why she first thought of a major in
philosophy. But these were things he was never going to know.
After she was done with all these distracting and unsettling
angry thoughts, her mind turned to a softer, sadder realm: Julius`s
dying. There was a man to be loved. Dying, but business as usual.
How does he do it? How does he keep his focus? How does Julius
keep caring? And Philip, that prick, challenging him to reveal
himself. And Julius`s patience with him, and his attempts to teach
Philip. Doesn`t Julius see he is an empty vessel?
She entertained a fantasy of nursing Julius as he grew
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