The Schopenhauer Cure(40)



“Is that what you were just doing a minute ago? I should not have disturbed you.”

Vijay smiled and gently shook his head. “My teacher once said that one can not be disturbed by another. It is only oneself who can disturb one’s equanimity.” Vijay hesitated, realizing even as it happened that he was awash in desire: he so craved the attention of his traveling companion that he had turned his meditation practice into a mere curiosity—all for the sake of a smile from this lovely woman who was simply an apparition, part of the passing show, soon to pass out of his life and to dissolve into the nonbeing of the past. And knowing, too, that his next words would only take him farther from his path, Vijay nonetheless rashly plunged ahead.

“There is something I would like to say: I shall long treasure our meeting and our conversation. Shortly I shall depart from this train to an ashram where I must face silence for the next ten days, and I am immeasurably grateful for the words we have exchanged, the moments we have shared. I am reminded of American prison films where the condemned man is permitted to order anything he wishes for his last meal. May I say that I have had my wishes for a last conversation fully granted.”

Pam simply nodded. Rarely at a loss for words, she did not know how to respond directly to Vijay’s courtliness. “Ten days at an ashram? Do you mean Igatpuri? I’m on my way there to a retreat.”

“Then we have the same destination and the same goal—to be taught Vipassana meditation by the honored guru Goenka. And very soon, too—it is the next stop.”

“Did you say ‘ten days of silence’?”

“Yes, Goenka always requires noble silence—aside from necessary discussions with the staff, the students are to utter no words. Are you experienced in meditation?”

Pam shook her head no. “I’m a university professor. I teach English literature, and last year one of my students had a healing and transformative experience at Igatpuri. This student has become very active in organizing Vipassana retreats in the United States and is currently helping to plan an American tour by Goenka.”

“Your student hoped to offer her teacher a gift. She wished that you, too, would undergo a transformation?”

“Well, something like that. It wasn’t that she felt I needed to change some particular thing about myself; it was more that she had profited so much that she wanted me, and others, to have the same experience.”

“Of course. My question was ill put; in no way did I mean to suggest that you need transformation. I was interested in your student’s enthusiasm. But did she prepare you for this retreat in any way?”

“She pointedly did not. She herself stumbled upon this retreat quite by accident and said that it would be best if I too entered it with an entirely open mind. You’re shaking your head. You disagree.”

“Ah, remember that Indians shake their heads from side to side when they agree and up and down when they disagree—the reverse of the American custom.”

“Oh my God. I think I’ve sensed this unconsciously because so much of my interaction with people here has been slightly askew. I must have confused people I spoke with.”

“No, no, Indians who come into contact with Westerners make that adaptation. As for your student’s advice to you, I am not certain I agree that you should be entirely unprepared. Let me point out that this is not a beginner’s retreat. Noble silence, meditation beginning at four A.M., little sleep, one meal a day. A difficult regimen. You must be strong. Ah, the train slows. We are at Igatpuri.”

Vijay stood, collected his belongings, and lifted Pam’s valise down from the overhead rack. The train stopped. Vijay prepared to leave and said, “The experience begins.”

Vijay’s words offered little comfort, and Pam was growing more apprehensive. “Does that mean we will not be able to speak to one another during the retreat?”

“No communication, not written, not sign language.”

“E-mail?”

Vijay did not smile. “Noble silence is the correct path to benefit from Vipassana.” He seemed different. Pam felt him already drifting away.

“At least,” she said, “it will offer me comfort to know you are there. It’s less foreboding to imagine being alone together.”

“Alone together. A felicitous phrase,” Vijay responded without looking at her.

“Perhaps,” Pam said, “we may meet again on this train after the retreat.”

“Of that we must not think. Goenka will teach us that it is only the present we must inhabit. Yesterday and tomorrow do not exist. Past remembrances, future longings, only produce disquiet. The path to equanimity lies in observing the present and allowing it to float undisturbed down the river of our awareness.” Without looking back, Vijay hoisted his bag onto his shoulder, opened the doors of the compartment, and walked away.





16


Schopenhauer’s Main Woman




* * *



Only the male intellect, clouded by the sexual impulse, could call the undersized, narrow-shouldered, broad-hipped, and short-legged sex the fair sex.

—Arthur Schopenhauer on women



Your eternal quibbles, your laments over the stupid world and human misery, give me bad nights and unpleasant dreams…. I have not had a single unpleasant moment I did not owe to you.

Irvin Yalom's Books