The Schopenhauer Cure (48 page)

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.

"So," Julius continued, "I want to go on record as

saying that your feat is remarkable: the techniques by

which you controlled your runaway drives worked--better

than anything I offered, even though I gave it my best

shot."

"I've never thought otherwise," said Philip.

"But, here's a question, Philip, is there a possibility

your methods are now superannuated?"

"Super...what?" asked Tony.

"Superannuated," whispered Philip, who was sitting

next to Tony--super (Latin for
beyond
) plus annus

(
years
)--in other words,
outmoded, obsolete.
"

Tony nodded thanks.

"The other day," Julius continued, "when I was

wondering how to bring this home to you, an image came

to mind. Imagine an ancient city that built a high wall to

protect it from the wild torrents of an adjacent river.

Centuries later, though the river had long dried up, the city

still invested considerable resources in maintaining that

wall."

"You mean," said Tony, "continuing to use some

solution even when the problem had gone away--like

wearing a bandage long after the cut had healed."

"Precisely," said Julius. "Maybe the bandage is a

better metaphor--right to the point."

"I don't agree," Philip addressed both Julius and

Tony, "that my wound is healed or that containment is no

longer necessary. For proof one need only look at my

extreme discomfort levels in this group."

"That's not a good measure," said Julius. "You've

had little experience with intimacy, with expressing

feelings directly, with getting feedback and disclosing

yourself. This is new for you; you've been in seclusion for

years, and I toss you into this high-powered group.
Of

course
that's going to feel uncomfortable. But what I'm really referring to is the overt problem, the sexual

compulsion--and perhaps that's gone. You're older, been

through a lot, maybe you've entered the land of gonadal

tranquillity. Nice place, good sunny climate. I've dwelled

there comfortably for many years."

"I would say," Tony added, "that Schopenhauer has

cured you, but now you need to be saved from the

Schopenhauer cure."

Philip opened his mouth to respond but then closed it

and pondered Tony's statement.

"Another thing," Julius added, "when you think

about your stress in the group, don't forget the heavy-duty

pain and guilt you've faced here as a result of a chance

encounter with a person from your past."

"I've heard nothing about guilt from Philip," said

Pam.

Philip responded instantly, facing Pam. "If I had

known
then
what I know
now
about the years of pain you've suffered,
I would never have done what I did.
As I said before, you were unlucky to have crossed my path. The

person I was then did not think of consequences. Automatic

pilot--that person was on automatic pilot."

Pam nodded and caught his glance. Philip held it for

a moment and then turned his attention back to Julius. "I

grasp your point about the magnitude of the interpersonal

stress in this group, but I insist that is only part of the

picture. And it is here that our basic orientations are at

odds. I agree there is stress in relationships with other

beings. And possibly reward as well--I'll grant you that

last point though I myself have never known it.

Nonetheless, I'm convinced that in the very state of

existing there is tragedy and suffering. Permit me to cite

Schopenhauer for only two minutes."

Without waiting for a response, Philip, staring

upward, began reciting:

In the first place a man never is happy but spends his

whole life in striving after something which he thinks

will make him so; he seldom attains his goal and, when

he does it is only to be disappointed: he is mostly

shipwrecked in the end, and comes into harbor with

masts and riggings gone. And then it is all one whether

he has been happy or miserable; for his life was never

anything more than a present moment, always

vanishing; and now it is over.

After a long silence Rebecca said, "That sends

shivers up my back."

"I know what you mean," said Bonnie.

"I know I'm sounding like an uptight English

professor," said Pam, addressing the entire group, "but I

urge you, don't be misled by rhetoric. That quote adds

nothing of substance to what Philip has been saying all

along; it only says it more persuasively. Schopenhauer was

a brilliant stylist and wrote the best prose of any

philosopher. Except for Nietzsche, of course--no one

wrote better than Nietzsche."

"Philip, I want to respond to your comment about

our basic orientations," said Julius. "I don't believe we're

as far apart as you think. I don't disagree with much that

you and Schopenhauer have said about the tragedy of the

human condition. Where you go east and I go west is when

we turn to the question of
what to do about it.
How shall we live? How to face our mortality? How to live with the

knowledge that we are simply life-forms, thrown into an

indifferent universe, with no preordained purpose?

"As you know," Julius continued, "though I'm more

interested in philosophy than most therapists, I'm no

expert. Yet, I'm aware of other bold thinkers who have not

flinched from these raw facts of life and who have arrived

at entirely different solutions than Schopenhauer. I'm

thinking particularly of Camus, Sartre, and Nietzsche, who

all advocate life engagement rather than Schopenhauer's

pessimistic resignation. The one I know best is Nietzsche.

You know, when I first received my diagnosis and was in a

state of panic, I opened
Thus Spoke Zarathustra
and was both calmed and inspired--especially by his life—

celebratory comment that we should live life in such a

manner that we'd say yes if we were offered the

opportunity to live our life again and again in precisely the

same manner."

"How did that relieve you?" asked Philip.

"I looked at my life and felt that I had lived it right--

no regrets from
inside
though, of course, I hated the
outside events that took my wife from me. It helped me decide how

I should live my remaining days: I should continue doing

exactly what had always offered me satisfaction and

meaning."

"I didn't know that about you and Nietzsche, Julius,"

said Pam. "It makes me feel even closer to you

because Zarathustra, melodramatic as it is, remains one of my absolutely favorite books. And I'll tell you my favorite

quote from it. It's when Zarathustra says, ' Was that life?

Well, then, once again! ' I love people who embrace life and get turned off by those who shrink away from it--I'm

thinking of Vijay in India. Next ad I run in a personal

column maybe I'll post that Nietzsche quote and the

Schopenhauer tombstone quote side-by-side and ask

respondents to choose between them. That would winnow

out the nay-sayers.

"I have another thought I want to share." Pam turned

to face Philip. "I guess it's obvious that after the last

meeting I thought about you a lot. I'm teaching a course on

biography, and in my reading last week I ran across an

amazing passage in Erik Erikson's biography of Martin

Luther. It goes something like this: 'Luther elevated his own neurosis to that of a universal patient-hood and then tried to solve for the world what he could not solve for himself.' I believe that Schopenhauer, like Luther, seriously fell into

this error and that you've followed his lead."