The Schopenhauer Cure

Right?»

«You took the words out of my mouth,” said Julius. «I was

just going to say that. This may be the reason why a few months

ago when I was wondering about who I helped and who I didn`t, I

got so fixated on Philip. In fact, when Philip came to mind I began

to lose interest in contacting other patients.

«Hey, look at the time. I hate to bring this meeting to an end,

but we`ve got to stop. Good meeting—I know I`ve got a lot to

think about—Tony, you opened up some things for me. Thanks.»

«So,” said Tony with a grin, «am I excused from paying

today?»

«Blessed is he who gives,” said Julius. «But who knows?—

keep on like this and that day may come.»

After leaving the group room the members chattered on the outside

steps of Julius`s home before dispersing. Only Tony and Pam

headed toward the coffee shop.

Pam was fixated on Philip. She was not mollified by Philip`s

statement that she had been unlucky to have met him. Moreover,

she hated his compliment on her interpretation of the parable and

hated even more that she had enjoyed getting it. She worried that

the group was swinging over to Philip—away from her, away from

Julius.

Tony felt elated—he voted himself the MVP—the meeting`s

most valuable player; maybe he`d skip the bar scene tonight—try

to read one of the books Pam had given him.

Gill watched Pam and Tony walk down the street together.

He (and Philip of course) were the only ones Pam had not hugged

at the end of the meeting. Had he crossed her too much? Gill

turned his attention to tomorrow`s wine–tasting event—one of

Rose`s big nights. A group of Rose`s friends always got together at

this time of the year for a sampling of the year`s best wines. How

to negotiate that? Just swish the wine and spit it out? Pretty tough

to pull that off. Or come right out with the truth? He thought of his

AA sponsor: he knew how the conversation between them would

go:

Sponsor:Where`re your priorities? Skip the event, go to a

meeting.

Gill:But wine tasting is the reason these friends get together.

Sponsor:Is it? Suggest another activity.

Gill:Won`t work. They won`t do it.

Sponsor:Then get new friends.

Gill:Rose won`t like it.

Sponsor:So?

Rebecca said to herself:Real stuff in, real stuff out. Real stuff

in, real stuff out. Must remember that. She smiled when she

thought about Tony counting his money when she had talked about

her flirtation with whoredom. Secretly she had gotten a kick out of

that. Was it bad faith to accept an apology from him?

Bonnie, as always, hated to see the meeting come to an end.

She was alive those ninety minutes. The rest of her life seemed so

tepid. Why was that? Whymust librarians lead dull lives? Then she

thought about Philip`s statement about what you are, what you

have, and what you represent to others. Intriguing!

Stuart relished the meeting. He was entering full–bodied into

the group. He repeated to himself the words he had said to Rebecca

about how her looks served as a barrier to knowing her and that he

had recently seen something deeper than her skin. That was good.

That was good. And telling Philip that his cold kind of consolation

had made him shiver.That was being more than a camera. And

then there was the way he had pointed out the tension between

Pam and Philip. No, no, that was camera stuff.

On his walk home Philip struggled to avoid thinking of the

meeting, but the events were too heady to screen out. In a few

minutes he caved in and permitted his thoughts free rein. Old

Epictetus had caught their attention. He always does. Then he

imagined hands reaching out and faces turned toward him. Gill had

become his champion—but not to be taken seriously. Gill

wasn`tfor him but instead wasagainst Pam, trying to learn how to

defend himself against her, and Rose, and all other women.

Rebecca had liked what he had said. Her handsome face lingered

briefly in his mind. And then he thought of Tony—the tattoos, the

bruised cheek. He had never met anyone like him—a real

primitive, but a primitive who is beginning to comprehend a world

beyond everydayness. And Julius—was he losing his sharpness?

How could he defend attachment while acknowledging his

problems of overinvestment in Philip as a patient?

Philip felt jittery, uncomfortable in his skin. He sensed that

he was in danger of unraveling. Why had he told Pam that she was

unlucky to have met him? Is that why she had spoken his name so

often in the meeting—and demanded that he face her? His former

debased self was hovering like a ghost. He sensed its presence,

thirsting for life. Philip quieted his mind and slipped into a walking

meditation.

33

Suffering, Rage, Perseverance

_________________________

To the learned

men and

philosophers of

Europe: for

you, a windbag

like Fichte is

the equal of

Kant, the

greatest

thinker of all

time, and a

worthless

barefaced

charlatan like

Hegel is

considered to

be a profound

thinker. I have

therefore not

written for

you.

_________________________

If Arthur Schopenhauer were alive today, would he be a candidate

for psychotherapy? Absolutely! He was highly symptomatic. In

«About Me» he laments that nature endowed him with an anxious

disposition and a «suspiciousness, sensitiveness, vehemence, and

pride in a measure that is hardly compatible with the equanimity of

a philosopher.»

In graphic language he describes his symptoms.

Inherited from my father is the anxiety which I myself curse

and combat with all the force of my will.... As a young man I

was tormented by imaginary illnesses.... When I was studying

in Berlin I thought I was a consumptive.... I was haunted by

the fear of being pressed into military service.... From Naples I

was driven by the fear of smallpox and from Berlin by the fear

of cholera.... In Verona I was seized by the idea I had taken

poisoned snuff...in Manheim I was overcome by an

indescribable feeling of fear without any external cause.... For

years I was haunted by the fear of criminal proceedings.... If

there was a noise at night I jumped out of bed and seized sword

and pistols that I always had ready loaded.... I always have an

anxious concern that causes me to look for dangers where none

exist: it magnifies the tiniest vexation and makes association

with people most difficult for me.

Hoping to quell his suspiciousness and chronic fear, he

employed a host of precautions and rituals: he hid gold coins and

valuable interest–bearing coupons in old letters and other secret

places for emergency use, he filed personal notes under false

headings to confuse snoopers, he was fastidiously tidy, he

requested that he always be served by the same bank clerk, he

allowed no one to touch his statue of the Buddha.

His sexual drive was too strong for comfort, and, even as a

young man, he deplored being controlled by his animal passions.

At the age of thirty–six a mysterious course of illness confined him

to his room for an entire year. A physician and medical historian

suggested in 1906 that his illness had been syphilis, basing the

diagnosis only upon the nature of the medication prescribed,

coupled with Schopenhauer`s history of unusually great sexual