The Schopenhauer Cure

A Novel

Irvin D. Yalom

To my community of older buddies who grace me with their friendship, share life`s

inexorable diminishments and losses, and continue to sustain me with their wisdom and

dedication to the life of the mind: Robert Berger, Murray Bilmes, Martel Bryant, Dagfinn

Føllesdahl, Joseph Frank, Van Harvey, Julius Kaplan, Herbert Kotz, Morton Lieberman,

Walter Sokel, Saul Spiro, and Larry Zaroff.

13

_________________________

When,at the end of their

lives, most men look back they

will find that they have lived

throughout ad interim. They

will be surprised to see that

the very thing they allowed to

slip by unappreciated and

unenjoyed was just their life.

And so a man, having been

duped by hope, dances into the

arms of death.

_________________________

The trouble with a kitten is that

Eventually it becomes a cat.

The trouble with a kitten is that

Eventually it becomes a cat.

Jerking his head to dislodge the annoying couplet from his mind, Julius sat up in bed and

opened his eyes. It was 6A.M. , a week later, the day of the next group meeting, and those

odd Ogden Nash lines looping around in his mind had been the background music for yet

another night of unsatisfying sleep.

Though everyone agrees that life is one goddamned loss after another, few know

that one of the most aggravating losses awaiting us in later decades is that of a good

night`s sleep. Julius knew that lesson all too well. His typical night consisted of tissue–thin dozing which almost never entered the realm of deep, blessed delta–wave slumber, a

sleep that was interrupted by so many awakenings that he often dreaded going to bed.

Like most insomniacs, he awoke in the morning believing either that he had slept far

fewer hours than he actually had or that he had been awake all night long. Often he could

assure himself that he had slept only by carefully reviewing his nocturnal thoughts and

realizing that he would never, in a waking state, have ruminated at such length about such

bizarre, irrational things.

But this particular morning he was entirely confused about how much he had slept.

The kitten–cat couplet must have emerged from the dream realm, but his other nocturnal

thoughts fell into a no–man`s–land, with neither the clarity and purposefulness of full–fledged consciousness nor the quirky caprice of dream thoughts.

Julius sat in bed, reviewing the couplet with his eyes closed, following the

instructions he offered patients to facilitate the recall of nighttime fantasies, hypnagogic

images, and dreams. The poem was pointed at those who loved kittens but not their

coming to age as cats. But what did that have to do with him? He loved kittens and cats

alike, had loved the two adult cats in his father`s store, loved their kittens and their

kittens` kittens, and couldn`t understand why the couplet lodged in his mind in such

tiresome fashion.

On second thought, perhaps the verse was a grim reminder of how, all his life, he

had embraced the wrong myth: namely, that everything about Julius Hertzfeld—his

fortune, stature, glory—was spiraling upward, and that life would always get better and

better. Of course, now he realized that the reverse was true—that the couplet had it

right—that the golden age came first, that his innocent, kittenly beginnings, the

playfulness, the hide–and–seek, the capture–the–flag games, and the building of forts out

of the empty liquor boxes in his father`s store, while unburdened by guilt, guile,

knowledge, or duty, was the very best time of life and that as the days and years passed,

the intensity of his flame dimmed, and existence grew inexorably more grim. The very

worst was saved for last. He recalled Philip`s words about childhood in the last meeting.

No doubt about it: Nietzsche and Schopenhauer had that part right.

Julius nodded his head sadly. It was true he had never truly savored the moment,

never grasped the present, never said to himself, «This is it, this time, this day—this is

what I want! These are the good old days, right now. Let me remain in this moment, let

me take root in this place for all time.» No, he had always believed that the juiciest meat

of life was yet to be found and had always coveted the future—the time of being older,

smarter, bigger, richer. And then came the upheaval, the time of the great reversal, the

sudden and cataclysmic deidealization of the future, and the beginning of the aching

yearning for what used to be.

When was that reversal? When did nostalgia replace the golden promise of

tomorrow? Not in college, where Julius considered everything as prelude (and obstacle)

to that grand prize: admission to medical school. Not in medical school, where, in his first

years, he yearned to be out of the classrooms and onto the wards as a clinical clerk, with

white jacket and stethoscope hanging out of pocket or slung casually about his neck like a

steel–and–rubber shawl. Not in the clerkships of his third and fourth medical school years,

when he finally took his place on the wards. There he yearned for more authority—to be

important, to make vital clinical decisions, to save lives, to dress in blue scrubs and

careen a patient on a gurney down the corridor to the OR to perform emergency trauma

surgery. Not even when he became chief resident in psychiatry, peeked behind the curtain

of shamanism, and was stunned at the limits and uncertainty of his chosen profession.

Without doubt Julius`s chronic and persistent unwillingness to grasp the present

had played havoc with his marriage. Though he had loved Miriam from the moment he

laid eyes on her in the tenth grade, he simultaneously resented her as an obstacle blocking

him from the multitude of women he felt entitled to enjoy. He had never completely

acknowledged that his mate–search was over or that his freedom to follow his lust was in

the slightest way curtailed. When his internship began he found that the house staff

sleeping quarters were immediately adjacent to the nursing school dorm brimming with

nubile young nurses who adored doctors. It was a veritable candy store, and he stuffed

himself with a rainbow of flavors.

It was only after Miriam`s death that the reversal must have occurred. In the ten

years since the car crash took her from him, he had cherished her more than while she

was alive. Julius sometimes heaved with despair when he thought of how his lush

contentment with Miriam, the true idyllic soaring moments of life, had come and gone

without his fully grasping them. Even now, after a decade, he could not speak her name

quickly but had to pause after each syllable. He knew also that no other woman would

ever really matter to him. Several women temporarily dispelled his loneliness, but it

didn`t take long for him, and for them, to realize they would never replace Miriam. More

recently, his loneliness was attenuated by a large circle of male friends, several of whom

belonged to his psychiatric support group, and by his two children. For the past few years

he had taken all his vacationsen famille with his two children and five grandchildren.

But all these thoughts and reminiscences had been only nocturnal trailers and short

subjects—the main feature of the night`s mentation had been a rehearsal of the speech he

would deliver to the therapy group later that afternoon.

He had already gone public about his cancer to many of his friends and his

individual therapy patients, yet, curiously, he was painfully preoccupied with his «coming

out» in the group. Julius thought it had something to do with his being in love with his

therapy group. For twenty–five years he had looked forward eagerly to every meeting.

The group was more than a clump of people; it had a life of its own, an enduring

personality. Though none of the original members (except, of course, he himself) was

still in the group, it had a stable persisting self, a core culture (in the jargon, a unique set

of «norms»—unwritten rules) that seemed immortal. No one member could recite the

group norms, but everyone could agree whether a certain piece of behavior was

appropriate or inappropriate.

The group demanded more energy than any other event of his week, and Julius had

labored mightily to keep it afloat. A venerable mercy ship, it had transported a horde of

tormented people into safer, happier harbors. How many? Well, since the average stay

was between two and three years, Julius figured at least a hundred passengers. From time

to time, memories of departed members wafted through his mind, snippets of an

interchange, a fleeting visual image of a face or incident. Sad to think that these wisps of

memory were all that remained of rich vibrant times, of events bursting with so much

life, meaning, and poignancy.

Many years ago Julius had experimented with videotaping the group and playing

back some particularly problematic interchanges at the next meeting. These old tapes

were in an archaic format no longer compatible with contemporary video playback

equipment. Sometimes he fancied retrieving them from his basement storage room,

having them converted, and bringing departed patients back to life again. But he never

did; he couldn`t bear exposing himself to proof of the illusory nature of life, how it was

warehoused on shiny tape and how quickly the present moment and every moment to

come will fade into the nothingness of electromagnetic wavelets.

Groups require time to develop stability and trust. Often a new group will spin off

members who are unable, for reasons of either motivation or ability, to engage in the

group task (that is, interacting with other members and analyzing that interaction). Then

it may go through weeks of uneasy conflict as members jockey for position of power,

centrality, and influence, but eventually, as trust develops, the healing atmosphere grows

in strength. His colleague, Scott, had once likened a therapy group to a bridge built in

battle. Many casualties (that is, dropouts) had to be taken during the early formative

stage, but once the bridge was built it conveyed many people—the remaining original

members and all those who subsequently joined the group—to a better place.

Julius had written professional articles about the various ways that therapy groups

helped patients, but he always had difficulty in finding the language to describe the truly

crucial ingredient: the group`s healing ambience. In one article he likened it to

dermatological treatments of severe skin lesions in which the patient was immersed into

soothing oatmeal baths.

One of the major side benefits of leading a group—a fact never stated in the

professional literature—is that a potent therapy group often heals the therapist as well as

the patients. Though Julius had often experienced personal relief after a meeting, he

never was certain of the precise mechanism. Was it simply a result of forgetting himself

for ninety minutes, or of the altruistic act of therapy, or of enjoying his own expertise,

feeling proud of his abilities, and enjoying the high regard of others? All of the above?

Julius gave up trying to be precise and for the past few years accepted the folksy

explanation of simply dipping into the healing waters of the group.

Going public with his melanoma to his therapy group seemed a momentous act. It

was one thing, he thought, to be open with family, friends, and all the other folks residing

backstage, but quite another to unmask himself to his primary audience, to that select

group for whom he had been healer, doctor, priest, and shaman. It was an irreversible

step, an admission that he was superannuated, a public confession that his life no longer

spiraled upward toward a bigger, brighter future.

Julius had been thinking a good bit of the missing member, Pam, now traveling

and not due to return for a month. He regretted she would not be there today for his

disclosure. For him, she was the key member of the group, always a comforting, healing

presence for others—and for him as well. And he felt chagrined by the fact that the group

had not been able to help with her extreme rage and obsessional thinking about her

husband and an ex–lover and that Pam, in desperation, had sought help at a Buddhist

meditation retreat in India.

And so, heaving and churning with all these feelings, Julius entered the group

room at four–thirty that afternoon. The members were already seated and poring over

sheets of paper which were whisked out of sight when Julius entered.

Odd, he thought. Was he late? He took a quick look at his watch. Nope, four–thirty

on the dot. He put it out of mind and began the recitation of his prepared statement.

«Well, let`s get started. As you know, I never make a practice of starting the

meeting, but today`s an exception because there`s something I need to get off my chest,

something that`s hard for me to say. So here goes.

«About a month ago I learned that I have a serious, I`ll be frank, more than

serious—a life–threatening form of skin cancer, malignant melanoma. I thought I was in

good health; this turned up at a recent routine physical exam....»

Julius stopped. Something was off kilter: The members` facial expression and

nonverbal language weren`t right. Their posture was wrong. They should have been

turned toward him; focusing on him; instead no one fully faced him, no one met his gaze,

all eyes were averted, unfocused, except for Rebecca, who covertly studied the sheet of

paper in her lap.

«What`s happening?» asked Julius. «I feel like I`m not making contact. You all

seem preoccupied with something else today. And, Rebecca, what is it that you`re

reading?»

Rebecca immediately folded the paper, buried it in her purse, and avoided Julius`s

gaze. Everyone sat quietly until Tony broke the silence.

«Well, I gotta talk. I can`t talk for Rebecca but I`ll talk for myself. My problem

when you were speaking was that I already know what you`re going to tell us about

your...health. So it was hard to look at you and pretend I was hearing something new.

And yet I just couldn`t interrupt you to tell you that I knew it already.»

«How? What do you mean you knew what I was going to say? What in hell is

going on today?»

«Julius, I`m sorry, let me explain,” said Gill. «I mean, in a way I`m to blame. After

the last meeting I was still frazzled and not clear about when or whether to go home or

where to sleep that night. I really put pressure on everyone to come to the coffee shop,

where we continued the meeting.»

«Yeah? And?» Julius coaxed, moving his hand in a small circle as though

conducting an orchestra.

«Well, Philip told us what the score was. You know—about your health and about

the malignant myeloma—”

«Melanoma,” Philip softly interjected.

Gill glanced at the paper in his hand. «Right, melanoma. Thanks, Philip. Keep

doing that. I get mixed up.»

«Multiple myeloma is a cancer of the bone,” said Philip. «Melanoma is a cancer of

the skin, think of melanin, pigment, skin coloring—”

«So those sheets are...,” interrupted Julius, gesturing with his hands to invite Gill

or Philip to explain.

«Philip downloaded information about your medical condition and prepared a

summary, which he handed out just as we entered the room a few minutes ago.» Gill

extended his copy toward Julius, who saw the heading: Malignant Melanoma.

Staggered, Julius sat back in his chair. «I...uh...don`t know how to put it...I feel

preempted, I feel like I had a big news story to tell you and I`ve been scooped, scooped

on my own life story—or death story.» Turning and speaking directly to Philip, Julius

said, «Had you any guesses about how I`d feel about that?»

Philip remained impassive, neither replying nor looking at Julius.

«That`s not entirely fair, Julius,” said Rebecca, who removed her barrette, loosened

her long black hair, and twisted it into a coil on the top of her head. «He`s not at fault

here. First of all, Philip did not, in the worst way, want to go to the coffee shop after the

meeting. Said he didn`t socialize, said he had a class to prepare. We had to practically

drag him there.»

«Right.» Gill took over. «We talked mostly about me and my wife and where I

should sleep that night. Then, of course, we all asked Philip about why he was in therapy,

which is only natural—every new member gets asked that—and he told us about your

phone call to him which was prompted by your illness. That news jolted us, and we

couldn`t let it pass without pressing him to tell us what he knew. Looking back, I don`t

see how he could have withheld that from us.»

«Philip even asked,” Rebecca added, «whether it was kosher for the group to meet

without you.»

«Kosher? Philip saidthat ?» asked Julius.

«Well, no,” said Rebecca, «come to think of it,kosher was my term, not his. But

that was his meaning, and I told him that we often had a postgroup session at the coffee

shop and that you`ve never raised objections about it except to insist that we debrief

everyone who wasn`t there in the next meeting so that there be no secrets.»

It was good that Rebecca and Gill gave Julius time to calm himself. His mind

churned with negativity:That ungrateful prick, that undercutting bastard. I try to do

something for him, and this is what I get for it—no good deed goes unpunished. And I can

just imagine how little he told the group about himself and why he had been in therapy

with me in the first place.... I`d lay big money that he conveniently forgot to tell the group

that he had screwed about a thousand women without an ounce of care or compassion

for a single one of them.

But he kept all these thoughts to himself and gradually cleansed his mind of rancor

by considering the events following the last meeting. He realized thatof course the group

would have pressured Philip to attend a postgroup coffee and that Philip would have been

swayed by the group pressure to attend—indeed he himself was at fault for not having

informed Philip about these periodic postgroup get–togethers. And,of course, the group

would have questioned Philip about why he was in therapy—Gill was right—the group

never failed to pose this question to a new member, andof course Philip would have to

reveal the story of their unusual history and subsequent contract for therapy—what

choice did he have? As for his distributing medical information on malignant

melanoma—that was Philip`s own idea, no doubt his way of ingratiating himself with the

group.

Julius felt wobbly, couldn`t pull off a smile, but braced himself and continued.

«Well, I`ll do my best to talk about this. Rebecca, let me take a good look at that sheet.»

Julius quickly scanned it. «These medical facts seem accurate so I won`t repeat them, but

I`ll just fill you in on my experience. It started with my doctor spotting an unusual mole

on my back, which a biopsy confirmed was a malignant melanoma. Of course that`s why

I canceled the group—had a rough couple of weeks, really rough, letting it sink in.»

Julius`s voice quavered. «As you see, it`s still rough.» He paused, took a deep breath, and

continued. «My doctors can`t predict my future, but what is important here is they feel

strongly that I have at least a year of good health ahead. So this group will be open for

business as usual for the twelve months. No, wait, let me put it this way: health

permitting, I commit myself to meet with you for one more year, at which time the group

will terminate. Sorry to be clumsy about it, but I`ve had no practice at this.»

«Julius, is this seriously life threatening?» asked Bonnie. «Philip`s Internet

information...all these statistics based on stages of the melanoma.»

«Straight question and the straight answer is ‘yes`—definitely life threatening. The

chances are good that this thing will get me in the future. I know that wasn`t an easy

question to ask, but I appreciate your straightforwardness, Bonnie, because I`m like most

people with major illness—I hate everyone to be pussyfooting around. That would just

isolate and frighten me. I`ve got to get used to my new reality. I don`t like it, but life as a

healthy carefree person—well,that life is definitely coming to an end.»

«I`m thinking of what Philip said to Gill last week. I wonder—is there something

of value in there for you, Julius? asked Rebecca. «I`m not sure if it was in the coffee shop

or here in the group—but it had to do with defining yourself or your life by your

attachments. Do I have it right, Philip?»

«When I spoke to Gill last week,” said Philip, speaking in a measured tone and

avoiding eye contact, «I pointed out that the more attachments one has, the more

burdensome life becomes and the more suffering one experiences when one is separated

from these attachments. Schopenhauer and Buddhism both hold that one must release

oneself from attachments and—”

«I don`t think that is helpful to me,” interrupted Julius, «and I`m also not sure if

this is where this meeting should be going.» He noted a quick pregnant glance passing

between Rebecca and Gill but continued, «I come in on that in the opposite way:

attachments, and plenty of them, are the indispensable ingredients of a full life, and to

avoid attachments because of anticipated suffering is a sure recipe for being only partially

alive. I don`t mean to cut you off, Rebecca, but I think it more to the point to go back to

your reactions, everyone`s reactions, to the announcement I`ve made. Obviously, learning

of my cancer has got to stir up strong feelings. I`ve known many of you for a long time.»

Julius stopped talking and looked around at his patients.

Tony, who had been slumped in his chair, stirred himself. «Well, I had a jolt when

you said earlier that what should be important to us was how long you could continue to

lead this group—that comment got under my skin, thick–skinned as I`ve been accused of

being. Now, I don`t deny that crossed my mind, but, Julius, I`m mostly upset at what this

means foryou. ...I mean, let`s face it, you`ve been pretty, I mean...really,important to

me, helped me get over some really bad stuff.... I mean, is there something I, we, can do

for you? This has gotta be terrible for you.»

«Ditto for me,” said Gill, and all the others (save Philip) joined in assent.

«I`m going to respond, Tony, but first say how touched I am and how impossible it

would have been for you, a couple of years ago, to be so direct and to reach out so

generously. But to answer your question, it`s been terrible. My feelings come in waves. I

hit bottom the first couple of weeks when I canceled the group. Did a lot of nonstop

talking to my friends, my whole support network. Right now, at this moment, I`m doing

better. You get used to everything, even mortal illness. Last night the refrain ‘Life is just

one goddamned loss after another` kept passing through my mind.»

Julius stopped. No one spoke. Everyone stared at the floor. Julius added, «I want to

deal with it openly...willing to discuss everything...I won`t shy away from

anything...but unless you ask something specific, I`m talked out now plus I don`t feel I

need the whole meeting to be given to me today. I want to say I have energy to work with

you here in my usual way. In fact it`s important to me that we go on as we always have.»

After a short silence Bonnie said, «I`ll be honest, Julius, there`s something I could

work on, but I don`t know...my problems seem insignificant compared to what you`re

going through.»

Gill looked up and added, «Me, too. My stuff—whether or not I learn to talk to my

wife, stay with her, or leave the sinking ship—all that seems trivial in comparison.»

Philip took that as his cue. «Spinoza was fond of using a Latin phrase,sub specie

aeternitatis, meaning ‘from the aspect of eternity.` He suggested that disturbing quotidian

events become less unsettling if they are viewed from the aspect of eternity. I believe that

concept may be an underappreciated tool in psychotherapy. Perhaps,” and here Philip

turned and addressed Julius directly, «it may offer a form of solace to even the kind of

serious assault you`re facing.»

«I can see you`re trying to offer me something, Philip, and I appreciate that. But

right now the idea of taking a cosmic–eye view of life is the wrong flavor of medicine.

Let me tell you why. Last night I didn`t sleep well and got to feeling sad for not having

appreciated what I had at the very moment it was happening. When I was young, I always

regarded the present as a prelude to something better that was going to occur. And then,

the years passed, I suddenly found myself doing the opposite—I was bathing myself in

nostalgia. What I`ve not done enough of is to treasure each moment, and that`s the

problem with your solution of detachment. I think it faces life through the wrong end of

the telescope.»

«I gotta come in here, Julius,” said Gill, «with an observation: I don`t think there`s

much chance you`re going to accept anything that Philip says.»

«An observation I`ll always pay attention to, Gill. But that`s an opinion. Where`s

the observation?»

«Well, the observation is that you`re just not respecting anything he offers.»

«I know what Julius would say about that, Gill,” said Rebecca. «It`s still not an

observation; it`s a guess about his feelings. What I observe»—she turned to Julius—«is

that this is the first time you and Philip have addressed one another even halfway directly

and that you have interrupted Philip a few times today, something I never see you do with

anyone else.»

«TouchГ©, Rebecca,” answered Julius. «Right on—a direct and accurate

observation.»

«Julius,” said Tony, «I`m not getting the picture at all. You and Philip—what`s

going on?—I don`t get it. Is he right when he says you phoned him out of the blue?»

Julius sat with his head bowed for a few minutes and then said, «Yes, I can see

how confusing this must be for all of you. Okay, here it is straight. Or as straight as my

memory permits. After my diagnosis, I fell into real despair. I felt I had gotten a death

sentence, and I was staggered by it. Among other dark thoughts I began to question

whether anything I had done in my life had any enduring meaning whatsoever. I slogged

around in that question for a day or two, and, since my life is so intertwined with my

work, I began thinking of patients I`d seen in the past. Had I really, permanently, affected

anyone`s life? I felt I had no time to waste, and so, on the spot, I decided to contact some

of my old patients. Philip was the first person, and so far the only one, I reached.»

«And why select Philip?» asked Tony.

«That`s the sixty–four–thousand–dollar question—or maybe that`s dated—is it the

sixty–four–million–dollar question these days? Short answer: I`m not sure. I`ve wondered

about it a lot. It wasn`t smart of me because if I wanted reassurance of my worth, there

are a lot of better candidates. Try as hard as I did for a full three years, I didn`t help

Philip. Maybe I was hoping that he would report some delayed effect of therapy—some

patients report such a thing. But it didn`t turn out that way for him. Maybe I was being

masochistic—wanted to rub my nose in it. Maybe I chose my biggest failure in order to

give myself a second chance. I admit it—I frankly don`t know my motives. And then

during the course of our discussion Philip told me of his career change and asked if I

would be willing to be his supervisor. Philip,” Julius turned to face Philip, «I assume you

filled the group in on this?»

«I provided the necessary details.»

«Can you be a little more cryptic?»

Philip looked away, the rest of the group looked uncomfortable, and after a long

silence Julius said, «I apologize for the sarcasm, Philip, but can you see where your

answer left me?»

«As I said, I provided the necessary details to the others,” Philip said.

Bonnie turned to face Julius: «I`ll be upfront. This feels unpleasant, and I`m

rescuing you. I don`t think you need to be hassled today—I think you need to be taken

care of. Please, what can we do for you, today?»

«Thanks, Bonnie, you`re right, I am shaky today—your question`s a lovely one,

but I`m not sure I can answer it. I`ll tell you all a big secret: there have been times I`ve

entered this room feeling bad because of some personal issues and left feeling better just

as a result of being a part of this terrific group. So maybe that`s the answer to your

question. The best thing for me is simply for all of you to use the group and not let my

situation bring us to a total stop.»

After a short silence Tony said, «Tough assignment with what`s gone down today.»

«Right,” said Gill. «It`ll feel awkward to talk about anything else.»

«These are the times I miss Pam,” said Bonnie. «She was the one who always knew

what to do—no matter how awkward the situation.»

«Funny, I was thinking about her earlier too,” said Julius.

«It must be telepathy,” said Rebecca. «Just a minute ago Pam went through my

mind also. It was when Julius talked about successes and failures.» She turned to Julius:

«I know she was your favorite child in our family here—and that`s not a question—it`s so

obvious. What I`m wondering is whether you feel like you failed with her—you know,

her taking a couple of months off to seek another kind of therapy because we couldn`t

help her. That can`t be great for your self–esteem.»

Julius gestured toward Philip. «Maybe you should fill him in.»

«Pam`s a real force here,” Rebecca said to Philip, who did not meet her eyes. «Both

her marriage and a relationship with a lover fell apart. She decided to leave her marriage

but then the lover opted not to leave his wife. She got upset with both men and obsessed

about them day and night. Try as we could, we never found a way to help her. In

desperation she took off for India to seek help from a famous guru at a Buddhist

meditation retreat.»

Philip made no response.

Rebecca turned back to face Julius. «So how did you feel about her taking off?»

«You know, up to about fifteen years ago I would have been very uptight—more

than that, I might even have taken a strong stand against it and insisted that her search for

another form of enlightenment was just resistance to change. I`ve changed. Now I feel I

need all the help I can get. And I`ve found that participation in some other mode of

growth, even flaky stuff, can often open up new areas for our therapeutic work. And I

sure hope that will be true for Pam.»

«It may have been not a flaky but an excellent choice for her,” said Philip.

«Schopenhauer felt positive about Eastern meditative practice and its emphasis on mind

clearing, on seeing through illusion, and its approach to relieving suffering by teaching

the art of letting go of attachments. In fact, he was the first to introduce Eastern thought

into Western philosophy.»

Philip`s comment was made to no one in particular, and no one responded. Julius

felt irritated about hearing Schopenhauer`s name so often but kept it to himself as he

noted several members nodding in appreciation of Philip`s remarks.

After a brief silence Stuart commented, «Shouldn`t we go back to where we were a

few minutes ago when Julius said that what would be best for him would be for us to get

to work in the group?»

«I agree,” said Bonnie, «but where to start? How about a follow–up on you and

your wife, Stuart? Last we heard she e–mailed you that she was thinking of leaving the

marriage.»

«It`s settled down and we`re back to status quo. She`s keeping her distance, but at

least things are no worse. Let`s see what else is pending in the group.» Stuart looked

around the room. «I can think of two items. Gill, how about you and Rose—what`s been

happening there? And, Bonnie, you said earlier today you had something to work on, but

it felt too trivial.»

«I want to pass today,” said Gill, looking downward. «I took too much time last

week. But the bottom line is defeat and capitulation. I`m ashamed to be back home in the

same situation. All that good advice from Philip, from all of you, was wasted on me. How

about you, Bonnie?»

«My stuff feels like small potatoes today.»

«Remember my version of Boyle`s law,” said Julius. «A small amount of anxiety

will expand to fill our whole anxiety cavity. Your anxiety feels just as awful as anxiety in

others that comes from more obviously calamitous sources.» He looked at his watch.

«We`re just about out of time, but do you want to open it up? Get it on the agenda?»

«To stop me from chickening out next week, you mean?» asked Bonnie. «Well,

that`s not a bad idea. What I was going to bring up has to do with my being homely and

fat and clumsy and Rebecca—and also Pam—being beautiful and...and stylish. But,

Rebecca, you, especially, open up a lot of painful old feelings for me—feelings I`ve

always had about being klutzy, homely, unchosen.» Bonnie stopped and looked at Julius.

«There, it`s out.»

«And on the agenda for next week,” said Julius, rising to signal the end of the

meeting.