The Schopenhauer Cure(55)

“Well, I think Rebecca wanted me to stop.”

“Whhhattt? Why I…”

“Hold up a minute, Rebecca,” Julius was being unusually directive today. “Bonnie, what exactly did you see? What cues did you pick up?”

“About Rebecca? Well, she was silent. Didn’t speak a word.”

“I can’t win. I was doing my best to be quiet so you couldn’t accuse me of taking attention from you. Can’t you recognize a gift?”

Bonnie was about to respond when Julius asked her to continue with her descriptions of who was bored.

“Well, nothing I can spell out concretely. But you can just tell when people are bored. I bore myself. Philip wasn’t looking at me, but then he never looks at anyone. I know the group was waiting to hear from Philip. What he said about popularity was far more interesting to the group than my whining.”

“Well, I wasn’t bored with you,” replied Tony, “and I didn’t see anyone else bored either. And what Philip had to say was not more interesting; he stays so much in his head that I don’t get real excited by his comments. I don’t even remember them.”

“I do,” said Stuart. “Tony, after you commented about how he was always in the center of things despite saying so little, he said that Bonnie and Rebecca had a very similar problem. They’re overinvested in the opinions of others: Rebecca gets too inflated and Bonnie too deflated—it was something like that.”

“You’re being a clicker again,” said Tony, pantomiming holding a camera and taking pictures.

“Right. Keep me honest. I know, I know—less observations, more feelings. Well, I agree that Philip is somehow central without having to say much. And it does feel like breaking the rules to confront Philip about anything.”

“That’s an observation and an opinion, Stuart,” said Julius. “Can you go to the feelings?”

“Well, I guess I have some envy about Rebecca’s interest in Philip. I felt that it was odd no one asked Philip how he felt about that—well, that’s not quite a feeling, is it?”

“Closer,” said Julius. “First cousin to a feeling. Keep going.”

“I feel threatened by Philip. He’s too smart. Also I feel ignored by him. And don’t like being ignored.”

“Bingo, Stuart, now you’re honing in,” said Julius. “Any questions for Philip?” Julius labored to keep his tone soft and delicate. His job was to help the group include, not to threaten and exclude Philip by insisting he perform in a manner not yet possible. It was for that reason he called upon Stuart rather than the more confrontative Tony.

“Sure, but it’s hard to ask Philip questions.”

“He’s right here, Stuart.” Another fundamental Julius rule: never allow members to speak of one another in the third person.

“Well, that’s the issue. It’s hard to talk to him…” Stuart turned to Philip, “I mean, Philip, it’s hard to talk to you because you never look at me. Like right now. Why is that?”

“I prefer to keep my own counsel,” said Philip, still gazing toward the ceiling.

Julius was poised to leap into the discussion if needed, but Stuart stayed patient.

“I don’t follow.”

“If you ask something of me, I want to search within myself, free of any distractions, in order to give you my best possible answer.”

“But your not looking at me makes me feel we’re not in contact.”

“But my words must tell you otherwise.”

“How about walking and chewing gum?” interjected Tony.

“Pardon?” Philip, puzzled, turned his head but not his eyes toward Tony.

“Like, how about doing both at the same time—looking at him and giving a good answer?”

“I prefer to search my own mind. Meeting the gaze of the other distracts me from searching for the answer the other might wish to hear.”

Silence prevailed while Tony and the others mulled Philip’s response. Stuart then posed another question: “Well, let me ask you, Philip, all that discussion about Rebecca’s preening for you—how did that make you feel?”

“You know,” Rebecca’s eyes showed fire, “I am really beginning to resent this, Stuart…it’s as though Bonnie’s fantasy has now passed into the books as gospel.”

Stuart refused to be diverted. “Okay, okay. Delete that question. Philip, I’ll ask you this: how did you feel about all the discussion about you the last meeting?”

“The discussion was of great interest, and I am unflaggingly attentive.” Philip looked at Stuart and continued, “But I have no emotional responses if that’s your inquiry.”

“None? That doesn’t seem possible,” replied Stuart.

“Before beginning the group I read Julius’s book on group therapy and was well prepared for the events of these meetings. I expected certain things to happen: that I would be an object of curiosity, that some would welcome me and some not, that the established hierarchy of power would be unsettled by my entrance, that the women might look favorably upon me and the men unfavorably, that the more central members might resent my appearance while the less influential ones might be protective of me. Anticipating these things has resulted in my viewing the events in the group dispassionately.”