Текст книги "The Schopenhauer Cure"

Автор книги: Наталия Май

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

You sit in judgment of me. I`m uneasy—no, I`m downright

terrified, in your presence.»

«That`s straight, Gill.Now I`m listening,” said Pam.

«So, Pam,” said Julius, «that`s two men here—Philip and

Gill—who express fear of you. Do you have some reaction to

that?»

«Yep—a big reaction: ‘That`s their problem.`”

«Any possibility that it`s also your problem?» said Rebecca.

«Maybe other men in your life have felt this too.»

«I`ll think about it.»

«Feedback, anyone, about this last interchange?» Asked

Julius.

«I think Pam`s being a little dodgy,” said Stuart.

«I agree. I get the feeling that you`re not going to think too

hard about it, Pam,” said Bonnie.

«Yep, you`re dead right. I think I`m still smarting from

Rebecca saying she wanted to protect Philip from my rage.»

«It`s a dilemma, isn`t it, Pam?» said Julius. «As you just said

to Gill, you value no–bullshit feedback. Yet when you get it, ouch,

how it smarts.»

«That`s true—so maybe I`m not as tough as I appear. And,

Rebecca, that did hurt.»

Rebecca said, «I`m sorry, Pam; that wasn`t my intention.

Supporting Philip is not identical to attacking you.»

Julius waited and wondered in which direction to guide the

group. There were many possibilities. Pam`s rage and

judgmentalism were on the table. And what about the other men,

Tony and Stuart? Where were they? And the competitiveness

between Pam and Rebecca was still on the table. Or should the

group deal with the unfinished business with Bonnie and her

mocking statement? Or perhaps focus more on the outburst from

Pam to Philip? He knew it was best to be patient; it would be a

mistake to push too fast. After only a handful of meetings there

had been definite progress toward dГ©tente. Maybe they had done

enough today. Hard to gauge, though; Philip gave little away. But

then, to Julius`s surprise, the group took an entirely unanticipated

direction.

«Julius,” said Tony, «I been wondering. You okay with the

response to what you revealed?»

«Well, we didn`t get very far. Let me think about what

happened. You told me how you felt and so did Pam, and then she

and Philip got into it about his not having feelings about my

revelation. And, Tony, I never really answered your question about

‘why now.` Let me go back to that.» Julius took time to gather his

thoughts, keenly aware that his self–revelation, or that of any

therapist, always had double implications: first, whatever he got

out of it for himself and, second, the modeling that it set for the

group.

«I can tell you that I was not about to be deterred from

revealing what I did. I mean, almost everyone here tried to stop

me, but I felt bullheaded, absolutely determined to continue. This

is very unusual for me and I`m not sure I understand it fully, but

there`s something important there. You inquired, Tony, whether I

was asking for help with it—or maybe asking for forgiveness. No,

that wasn`t it; long ago I forgave myself after spending years

working on it with my friends and with a therapist. One thing I can

tell you for sure: in the past, I mean before my melanoma, I would

never, not in a thousand years, have said what I said in the group

today.

«Before my melanoma,” Julius continued. «That`s the key.

We`ve all got a death sentence—I know you all pay me well for

such cheery pronouncements—but the experience of having it

certified, stamped, and even dated has sure caught my attention.

My melanoma is giving me a strange sense of release that`s got a

lot to do with my revealing myself today. Maybe that`s why I`ve

been yearning for a co–therapist—someone objective who can

make sure that I continue acting in your best interests.»

Julius stopped. Then, he added, «I noted that none of you

responded earlier when I commented on how you were taking care

of me today.»

After a few more moments of silence, Julius added, «And

you`re still not.You see, this is why I miss having a co–therapist

here. I`ve always believed that if there`s something big that`s not

being talked about, then nothing else that`s important can be

worked on either. My job is to remove obstacles; the last thing I

want is tobe an obstacle. Now, it`s hard for me to get outside

myself, but I feel you`re avoiding me, or let me put it this way,

avoidingmy mortal illness. ”

Bonnie said, «Iwant to discuss what`s happening to you; but

I don`t want to cause you pain.»

Others agreed.

«Yep, now you`ve put your finger right on it. Now listen

hard to what I`m going to say: there`s only one way you can hurt

me—and that is to cut yourself off from me. It`s hard to talk to

someone with a life–threatening illness—I know that. People have

a tendency to tread gently; they don`t know the right thing to say.»

«That`s right–on for me,” said Tony. «I don`t know what to

say. But I`m going to try to stay with you.»

«I sense that, Tony.»

«Isn`t it so,” said Philip, «that people fear contact with the

afflicted because they wish not to be confronted with the death that

awaits each of them?»

Julius nodded. «That sounds important, Philip. Let`s

examine it here.» If anyone but Philip had said this, Julius would

have been sure to ask whether they were expressing their own

feelings. However, at this stage, he wanted only to support Philip`s

appropriateness. He scanned the group, awaiting a response.

«Maybe,” said Bonnie, «there`s something to what Philip

said because I`ve had a couple of recent nightmares of something

trying to kill me, and then there was that nightmare I described—

trying to catch that train which was falling apart.»

«I know that under the surface I`m more fearful than usual,”

said Stuart. «One of my tennis chums is a dermatologist, and twice

now in the last month I`ve asked him to check out one of my skin

lesions. Melanoma is on my mind.»

«Julius,” said Pam, «you`ve been on my mind ever since you

told me about your melanoma. There is something to what I`m

being told about my being tough on men, but you`re the main

exception—you are the dearest man I`ve ever known. And yes, Ido

feel protective of you. I felt it when Philip put you on the spot. I

thought—and still think—it was callous and insensitive of him.

And the question of whether I`m more conscious of my own

death—well, that may be there, but I`m not aware of it. Ican tell

you that I`m on the lookout for consolatory things I might say to

you. Last night I read something interesting, a passage in

Nabokov`s memoir,Speak, Memory, which described life as a

spark between two identical pools of darkness, the darkness before

we were born and the darkness after we die. And how odd it is that

we have so much concern about the latter and so little about the

former. I somehow found this enormously reassuring and

immediately tagged it to give to you.»

«That`s a gift, Pam. Thank you. That`s an extraordinary

thought. And itis a reassuring thought, though I`m not quite sure

why. I`m more comfortable with that first pool, before birth—it

seems friend–lier—perhaps I imbue it with promise, the potential

of things to come.»

«That thought,” said Philip, «was also reassuring to

Schopenhauer, from whom, incidentally, Nabokov undoubtedly

lifted it. Schopenhauer said that after death we will be what we

were before our birth and then proceeded to prove the impossibility

of there being more than one kind of nothingness.»

Julius never had a chance to reply. Pam glared at Philip and

barked a response: «Right here we have a perfect illustration of

why your desire to be a counselor is a monstrous joke. We`re in the

midst of tender feelings, and what matters most, whatonly matters

to you, is accuracy of attribution. You think Schopenhauer once

said something vaguely similar. Big fucking deal!»

Philip closed his eyes and began reciting: «вЂ˜A man finds

himself, to his great astonishment, suddenly existing after

thousands and thousands of years of non–existence; he lives for a

little while; and then, again, comes an equally long period when he

must exist no more.` I`ve committed a great deal of Schopenhauer

to memory: third paragraph of his essay ‘Additional Remarks on

the Doctrine of the Vanity of Existence.` Is that vague enough for

you?»

«Children, children, you two quit that,” said Bonnie, in a

high–pitched voice.

«You`re getting loose, Bonnie. I like it,” said Tony.

«Other feelings, anybody?» asked Julius.

«I don`t want to get caught inthis crossfire. Some big

cannons being wheeled out,” said Gill.

«Yeah,” said Stuart, «neither of them can resist the

opportunity for a jab. Philip`s got to comment on someone else

using Schopenhauer`s phrase, and Pam can`t resist the opportunity

to call Philip a monstrous joke.»

«I didn`t sayhe was a monstrous joke. I said...”

«Get off it, Pam, you`re nitpicking. You know what I

meant.» Stuart held his ground. «And anyway that blowup about

Nabokov—that was out of line, Pam. You bad–mouth his hero, and

then you praise someone else who borrows Schopenhauer`s words.

What`s so wrong with Philip setting you straight? What`s the big

crime with his pointing out Schopenhauer`s priority?»

«I gotta say something,” said Tony. «As usual I don`t know

who these dudes are—at least not Nabo...Nobo?

«Nabokov,” said Pam, in the soft voice she reserved for

Tony. «He`s a great Russian writer. You may have heard of his

novelLolita. ”

«Yeah, I saw that. Well, in this kind of talk I get into a

vicious circle—not knowing makes me feel stupid, then I clam up,

and then I feel more stupid. I`ve got to keep trying to break that

pattern by speaking out.» He turned to Julius: «So to answer your

question about feelings,that`s one feeling—stupid. Another is that

for one instant, when he said, ‘Is that vague enough for you?` I got

a glimpse of Philip`s teeth—and they`re sharp teeth, real sharp.

And some other feelings toward Pam,” Tony turned to face her,

«Pam, you`re my girl—I really dig you, but I`ll tell you

something:I sure don`t want to get on your bad side. ”

«I hear you,” said Pam.

«And, and...” said Tony, «I forgot the most important thing

I was going to say—that this whole argument has gotten us off the

track. We were talking about how we might be protecting or

avoiding you, Julius. Then with Pam and Philip we got off the

topic quick. So aren`t we avoiding you again?»

«You know, I don`t feel that now. When we work as

intimately as we`re doing now, we never stay on a single trail. The

stream of thought keeps overflowing into new channels. And,

incidentally,” Julius turned to Philip, «I use that term—

intimately—quite deliberately. I think your anger—which we see

breaking through here for the first time—is truly a sign of

intimacy. I think you care enough about Pam to be angry at her.»

Julius knew Philip would not answer on his own and nudged

him. «Philip?»

Shaking his head, Philip replied, «I don`t know how to

assess your hypothesis. But there is something else I want to say. I

confess that, like Pam, I also have been looking for comforting or

at least relevant things to say to you. I have followed

Schopenhauer`s practice of ending each day reading from the

works of Epictetus or from the Upanishads.» Philip glanced in

Tony`s direction. «Epictetus was a Roman philosopher of the

second century, and the Upanishads are an ancient sacred Hindu

text. The other night I read a passage from Epictetus that I thought

would be of value, and I`ve made copies of it. I`ve translated it

loosely from the Latin into current vernacular.» Philip reached into

his briefcase, handed out copies to each member, and then, eyes

closed, recited the passage from memory.

When, on a sea voyage, the ship is brought to anchor, you go

out to fetch water and gather a few roots and shells by the way.

But you always need to keep your mind fixed on the ship, and

constantly to look around, lest at any time the master of the

ship call, and you must heed that call and cast away all those

things, lest you be treated like the sheep that are bound and

thrown into the hold.

So it is with human life also. And if there be available

wife and children instead of shells and roots, nothing should

hinder us from taking them. But if the master call, run to the

ship, forsaking all those things, and without looking behind.

And if thou be in old age, go not far from the ship at any time,

lest the master should call, and thou be not ready.

Philip ended and held out his arms as though to say, «There

it is.»

The group studied the passage. They were bewildered. Stuart

broke the silence, «I`m trying, but, Philip, I don`t get it. What`s the

value of this for Julius? Or for us?»

Julius pointed to his watch. «Sorry to say we`re out of time.

But let me be teacherly and make one point. I often view a

statement or act from two different points of view—from

itscontent and from itsprocess —and byprocess I meanwhat it tells

us about the nature of the relationship between the parties

involved. Like you, Stuart, I don`t immediately understand

thecontent of Philip`s message: I`ve got to study it, and maybe the

content can be a topic in another meeting. But I know something

about theprocess. What I know, Philip, is that you, like Pam, were

thinking about me, wanted to give me a gift, and you went to some

lengths to do it: you memorized the passage and you made copies.

And the meaning of that? It`s got to reflect your caring about me.

And what do I feel about it? I`m touched, I appreciate it, and I look

forward to the time when you can express your caring in your own

words.»

30

_________________________

Life can be

compared to a

piece of

embroidered

material of

which, everyone

in the first

half of his

time, comes to

see the top

side, but in

the second

half, the

reverse side.

The latter is

not so

beautiful, but

is more

instructive

because it

enables one to

see how the

threads are

connected

together.

_________________________

When the group left, Julius watched them walk down his front

stairs to the street. Rather than peel off singly to their parked cars,

they continued in a clump, undoubtedly on their way to the coffee

shop. Oh, how he would have liked to grab his windbreaker and go

flying down the stairs to join them. But that was another day,

another life, another pair of legs, he thought, as he crept down the

hall heading toward his office computer to enter his notes on the

meeting. Suddenly, he changed his mind, walked back into the

group room, took out his pipe, and enjoyed the aroma of rich

Turkish tobacco. He had no particular purpose other than simply to

bask for a few minutes more in the embers of the group session.

This meeting, like the last three or four, had been riveting.

His thoughts drifted back to the groups of breast cancer patients he

had led so long ago. How often had those members described a

golden period once they overcame the panic of realizing that they

were truly going to die. Some said living with cancer had made

them wiser, more self–realized, while others had reordered their

priorities in life, grown stronger, learned to say no to activities they

no longer valued and yes to things that really mattered—such as

loving their family and friends, observing the beauty about them,

savoring the changing seasons. But what a pity, so many had

lamented, that it was only after their bodies were riddled with

cancer that they had learned how to live.

These changes were so dramatic—indeed one patient had

proclaimed, «Cancer cures psychoneurosis»—that on a couple of

occasions Julius impishly described only the psychological

changes to a class of students and then asked them to guess what

kind of therapy was involved. How shocked students were to learn

it was not therapy or medication but a confrontation with death that

had made the difference. He owed a lot to those patients. What a

model they were for him in his time of need. What a pity he

couldn`t tell them. Live right, he reminded himself, and have faith

that good things will flow from you even if you never learn of

them.

And how are you doing with your cancer? he asked himself.

I know a lot about the panic phase which, thank God, I`m now

coming out of even though there are still those 3A.M. times when

panic grips with a nameless terror that yields to no reasoning or

rhetoric—it yields to nothing except Valium, the light of breaking

dawn, or a soothing hot–tub soak.

But have I changed or grown wiser? he wondered. Had my

golden period? Maybe I`m closer to my feelings—maybe that`s

growth. I think, no,I know I`ve become a better therapist—grown

more sensitive ears. Yes, definitely I`m a different therapist.

Before my melanoma I would never have said that I was in love

with the group. I would never have dreamed of revealing such

intimate details of my life—Miriam`s death, my sexual

opportunism. And my irresistible compulsion to confess to the

group today—Julius shook his head in amazement—

that`ssomething to wonder about, he thought. I feel a push to go

against the grain, against my training, my own teaching.

One thing for sure, they didnot want to hear me. Talk about

resistance! They wanted no part of my blemishes or my darkness.

But, once I put it out, some interesting stuff emerged. Tony was

something else! Acted like a skilled therapist—inquiring whether I

was satisfied with the group`s response, trying to normalize my

behavior, pressing about «why now.» Terrific stuff. I could almost

imagine him leading the group after I`m gone—that would be

something—a college drop–out therapist with jail time in his past.

And others—Gill, Stuart, Pam—stepped up, took care of me, and

kept the group focused. Jung had other things in mind when he

said that only the wounded healer can truly heal, but maybe honing

the patients` therapeutic skills is a good enough justification for

therapists to reveal their wounds.

Julius moseyed down the hall to his office and continued

thinking about the meeting. And Gill—did he show up today!

Calling Pam «the chief justice» was terrific—and accurate. I have

to help Pam integrate that feedback. Here`s a case when Gill`s

vision is sharper than mine. For a long time I`ve liked Pam so

much that I overlooked her pathology—maybe that`s why I

couldn`t help her with her obsession about John.

Julius turned on his computer and opened a file titled, «Short

Story Plots»—a file which contained the great unfulfilled project in

his life: to be a real writer. He was a good, contributing

professional writer (he had published two books and a hundred

articles in the psychiatric literature), but Julius yearned to write

literature and for decades had collected plots for short stories from

his imagination and his practice. Though he had started several, he

never found the time, nor the courage, to finish and submit a story

for publication.

Scrolling down the lists of plots he clicked on «Victims

confront their enemy» and read two of his ideas. The first

confrontation took place on a posh ship cruising off the Turkish

coast. A psychiatrist enters the ship`s casino and there across the

smoke–filled room sees an ex–patient, a con man who had once

swindled him out of seventy–five thousand dollars. The second

confrontation plot involved a female attorney who was assigned a

pro bono case to defend an accused rapist. On her first jail

interview with him she suspects he is the man who raped her ten

years before.

He made a new entry: «In a therapy group a woman

encounters a man who, many years before, had been her teacher

and sexually exploited her.» Not bad. Great potential for literature,

Julius thought, though he knew it would never be written. There

were ethical issues: he`d need permission from Pam and Philip.

And he`d need, also, the passage of ten years, which he didn`t

have. But potential, too, for good therapy, thought Julius. He was

certain that something positive could come of this—if only he

could keep them both in the group and could bear the pain of

opening up old wounds.

Julius picked up Philip`s translation of the tale of the ship`s

passengers. He reread it several times, trying to understand its

meaning or relevance. But still he ended up shaking his head.

Philip offered it as comfort. But where was the comfort?