The Schopenhauer Cure(105)
Pam, lost in thought, remained silent.
“There are lots of powerful feelings coming out. Let’s keep looking at them and try to understand them. Ideas?” asked Julius.
“I admire Pam’s honesty today,” said Bonnie, “and I can understand how raw she feels. I also appreciate Gill taking her on. That’s an amazing change for you, Gill, and I applaud it, but sometimes I wish you’d let Philip defend himself. I don’t understand why he doesn’t.” She turned to Philip. “Why don’t you?”
Philip shook his head and remained silent.
“If he won’t speak, I’ll answer for him,” said Pam. “He’s following instructions from Arthur Schopenhauer.” She took a note from her purse, scanned it, and read:
Speak without emotion.
Don’t be spontaneous.
Remain independent of others.
Think of yourself as living in a town in which you have the only watch that keeps time—it will serve you well.
To disregard is to win regard.
Philip nodded appreciatively and replied, “I approve of your reading material. Sounds like pretty good advice to me.”
“What’s going on?” asked Stuart.
“Doing a little browsing in Schopenhauer,” said Pam, holding up her notes.
After a silence, Rebecca broke the impasse. “Tony, where are you? What’s going on with you?”
“Hard for me to talk today,” said Tony, shaking his head. “I feel tied up, like I’m frozen solid.”
To everyone’s surprise, Philip responded, “I think I understand your bind, Tony. It’s like Julius said, you’re caught between two conflicting requirements: you’re expected to work in the group by freely expressing yourself, and at the same time you’re trying to honor your allegiance to Pam.”
“Yep, I see that,” Tony replied, “but seeing is not enough, doesn’t free me up. But still, thanks. And here’s one back to you. What you just said a minute ago—you know, supporting Julius’s point—well, that’s a first for you—I mean not challenging him—a big change, man.”
“Understanding, you say, is not enough. What else is needed?” Philip asked.
Tony shook his head. “This ain’t easy today.”
“I think I know what would help,” said Julius, turning toward Tony. “You and Pam are avoiding one another, not expressing your feelings. Maybe you’re saving it to talk about later. I know it’s awkward, but can you make a start on doing it here? Perhaps try talking to each other, not to us.”
Tony took a deep breath and turned to Pam. “I don’t feel good about this, feel off balance. I’m pissed at the way all this played out. I can’t get my mind around why not a phone call to me first, to talk it over, get me on board for today?”
“Sorry. But we both knew this had to come out sometime. We talked about that.”
“That’s it? That’s all you got to say? And what about tonight? Are we still on?”
“It would be too awkward to see you. The rules here are to talk about all relationships, and I want to honor my contract with the group. I can’t go on with this; maybe after the group ends—”
“You have a most convenient and flexible relationship to contracts,” interrupted Philip, showing uncharacteristic signs of agitation. “You honor them when it suits you. When I discuss honoring my past social contract with you, you revile me. Yet you break the rules of the group, you play secret games, you use Tony capriciously.”
“Who are you to speak of contracts?” Pam shot back loudly. “What about the contract between teacher and student?”
Philip looked at his watch, stood up, and announced, “Six o’clock. I have fulfilled my time obligations.” He left the room muttering, “Enough wallowing in muck today.”
It was the first time anyone other than Julius had ever ended a meeting.
37
* * *
Everyone who is in love will experience an extraordinary disillusionment after the pleasure is finally attained; and he will be astonished that what was desired with such longing achieves nothing more than what every other sexual satisfaction achieves, so that he does not see himself very much benefited by it.
* * *
Leaving the group room did not clear the muck from Philip’s mind. He walked down Fillmore Street assailed by anxiety. What had happened to his arsenal of self-soothing techniques? Everything that had for so long provided him structure and serenity was unraveling—his mental discipline, his cosmic perspective. Struggling for equanimity, he instructed himself: Don’t struggle, don’t resist, clear your mind; do nothing but watch the passing show of your thoughts. Just let thoughts drift into consciousness and then drift away.
Things drifted in all right, but there was no drifting out. Instead, images unpacked their bags, hung up their clothes, and set up housekeeping in his mind. Pam’s face drifted into view. He focused on her image, which, to his astonishment, transformed itself by shedding years: her features grew younger, and soon the Pam he had known so many years ago stood before him. How strange it was to descry the young in the old. He usually imagined the opposite trajectory—seeing the future in the present, the skull underlying the unblemished skin of youth.