The Schopenhauer Cure(113)

“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 been for 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 is that?” retorted Philip. “Every halfway 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, what were 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…uplifted or released—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 them congruent—do I have the word right?” Tony looked at Julius who nodded his head. “And that’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.