really caught up in the discussion." He turned to Pam. "Maybe that was threatening to you; maybe you didn't want to lose your
influence over Tony."
"Thanks, Stuart, mighty enlightening," shot back Pam.
"Your point is that to compete with this zombie I have to fuck all the guys in the group! That's your view of women's abilities?"
"
That's
going to encourage feedback," said Gill, "and that zombie crack is out of line. I prefer Philip's even-mindedness over hysterical name-calling any day! Pam, you are one angry lady. Can you be anything else but mad?"
"Those are strong feelings, Gill. What's happening?" asked
Julius.
"I think I see a lot of my wife in this new angry Pam, and
I'm determined not to let any vicious stuff pass--from either of them."
Then Gill added, "And there's something else. I think I'm
miffed at continuing to be so invisible to Pam." He turned to her.
"I'm being personal and upfront with you; I've let you know what I'm feeling about you, I tell you how I see you as the chief justice, but nothing registers--I still don't matter. You only got eyes for Philip...and Tony. And I think I'm giving you important stuff--
and here's another piece: I think I know why your John bailed
out:
it wasn't because he was a coward; it was because of your rage.
"
Pam, lost in thought, remained silent.
"There are lots of powerful feelings coming out. Let's keep
looking at them and try to understand them. Ideas?" asked Julius.
"I admire Pam's honesty today," said Bonnie, "and I can
understand how raw she feels. I also appreciate Gill taking her on.
That's an amazing change for you, Gill, and I applaud it, but
sometimes I wish you'd let Philip defend himself. I don't
understand why he doesn't." She turned to Philip. "Why don't
you?"
Philip shook his head and remained silent.
"If he won't speak, I'll answer for him," said Pam. "He's
following instructions from Arthur Schopenhauer." She took a note from her purse, scanned it, and read:
*
Speak without emotion.
*
Don't be spontaneous.
*
Remain independent of others.
*
Think of yourself as living in a town in which you have the only watch that keeps time--it will serve you well.
*
To disregard is to win regard.
Philip nodded appreciatively and replied, "I approve
of your reading material. Sounds like pretty good advice to
me."
"What's going on?" asked Stuart.
"Doing a little browsing in Schopenhauer," said
Pam, holding up her notes.
After a silence, Rebecca broke the impasse. "Tony,
where are you? What's going on with you?"
"Hard for me to talk today," said Tony, shaking his
head. "I feel tied up, like I'm frozen solid."
To everyone's surprise, Philip responded, "I think I
understand your bind, Tony. It's like Julius said, you're
caught between two conflicting requirements: you're
expected to work in the group by freely expressing
yourself, and at the same time you're trying to honor your
allegiance to Pam."
"Yep, I see that," Tony replied, "but seeing is not
enough, doesn't free me up. But still, thanks. And here's
one back to you. What you just said a minute ago--you
know, supporting Julius's point--well, that's a first for
you--I mean not challenging him--a big change, man."
"Understanding, you say, is not enough. What else is
needed?" Philip asked.
Tony shook his head. "This ain't easy today."
"I think I know what would help," said Julius,
turning toward Tony. "You and Pam are avoiding one
another, not expressing your feelings. Maybe you're saving
it to talk about later. I know it's awkward, but can you
make a start on doing it here? Perhaps try talking to each
other, not to us."
Tony took a deep breath and turned to Pam. "I don't
feel good about this, feel off balance. I'm pissed at the way
all this played out. I can't get my mind around why not a
phone call to me first, to talk it over, get me on board for
today?"
"Sorry. But we both knew this had to come out
sometime. We talked about that."
"That's it? That's all you got to say? And what about
tonight? Are we still on?"
"It would be too awkward to see you. The rules here
are to talk about all relationships, and I want to honor my
contract with the group. I can't go on with this; maybe after
the group ends--"
"You have a most convenient and flexible
relationship to contracts," interrupted Philip, showing
uncharacteristic signs of agitation. "You honor them when
it suits you. When I discuss honoring my past social
contract with you, you revile me. Yet you break the rules of
the group, you play secret games, you use Tony
capriciously."
"Who are you to speak of contracts?" Pam shot back
loudly. "What about the contract between teacher and
student?"
Philip looked at his watch, stood up, and announced,
"Six o'clock. I have fulfilled my time obligations." He left
the room muttering, "Enough wallowing in muck today."
It was the first time anyone other than Julius had
ever ended a meeting.
37
_________________________
Everyone
wh
o
is
in
love will
experience
an
extraordin
ary
disillusio
nment
after the
pleasure
is finally
attained;
and
he
will
be
astonished
that what
was
desired
with such
longing
achieves
nothing
more than
what every
other
sexual
satisfacti
on
achieves,
so that he
does
not
see
himself
very much
benefited
by it.
_________________________
Leaving the group room did not clear the muck from
Philip's mind. He walked down Fillmore Street assailed by
anxiety. What had happened to his arsenal of self-soothing
techniques? Everything that had for so long provided him
structure and serenity was unraveling--his mental
discipline, his cosmic perspective. Struggling for
equanimity, he instructed himself: Don't struggle, don't
resist, clear your mind; do nothing but watch the passing
show of your thoughts. Just let thoughts drift into
consciousness and then drift away.
Things drifted in all right, but there was no drifting
out. Instead, images unpacked their bags, hung up their
clothes, and set up housekeeping in his mind. Pam's face
drifted into view. He focused on her image, which, to his
astonishment, transformed itself by shedding years: her
features grew younger, and soon the Pam he had known so
many years ago stood before him. How strange it was to
descry the young in the old. He usually imagined the
opposite trajectory--seeing the future in the present, the
skull underlying the unblemished skin of youth.
How radiant her face! And such astonishing clarity!
Of all the hordes, the hundreds, of women whose bodies he
had entered and whose faces had long faded, melding into
one archetypal visage, how was it possible that Pam's face
persisted in such remarkable detail?
Then, to his amazement, sharper memory snippets of
the young Pam slipped into view: her beauty, her giddy
excitement as he tied her wrists with his belt, her cascade of orgasms. His own sexual excitement remained as a vague
body memory--a wordless, heaving sensation of pelvic
thrusting and exultation. He remembered, too, lingering in
her arms for much too long. It was for that precise reason
he had regarded her as dangerous and had resolved on the
spot not to see her again. She represented a threat to his
freedom. The quarry he sought was quick sexual release--
that was his license to blessed peace and solitude. He never
wanted carnality. He wanted freedom; he wanted to escape
from the bondage of desire in order to enter, however
briefly, the true philosophers' will-free clearing. Only after sexual release could he think elevated thoughts and join his
friends--the great thinkers whose books were personal
letters to him.
More fantasies came; his passion enveloped him and,
with a great whoosh, sucked him from the philosophers'
distant observing grandstand. He craved; he desired; he
wanted. And more than anything, he wanted to hold Pam's
face in his hands. Tight orderly connections between
thoughts loosened. He imagined a sea lion surrounded by a
harem of cows, then a yelping mongrel flinging himself
again and again against a steel link fence separating him
from a bitch in heat. He felt himself a brutish, club—
wielding caveman, grunting, warning off competitors. He
wanted to possess her, lick her, smell her. He thought of
Tony's muscular forearms, of Popeye gulping his spinach
and chucking the empty can behind him. He saw Tony
mounting her--her legs splayed, her arms encircling him.
That pussy should be his, his alone. She had no right to
defile it by offering it to Tony. Everything she did with
Tony sullied his memory of her, impoverished his
experience. He felt sick to his stomach. He was a biped.
Philip turned and walked along the marina, then
through Chrissy Field to the bay and along the edge of the
Pacific, where the calm surf and the timeless aroma of
ocean salt soothed him. He shivered and buttoned his
jacket. In the fading light of day, the cold Pacific wind
streamed through the Golden Gate and rushed by him, just
as the hours of his life would forever rush past without
warmth or pleasure. The wind presaged the frost of endless
days to come, arctic days of rising in the morning with no
hope of home, love, touch, joy. His mansion of pure
thought was unheated. How strange that he had never
before noticed. He continued walking but with the
glimmering knowledge that his house, his whole life, had
been built on foundations flimsy and false.
38
_________________________
We
should
treat with
indulgence
every
human
folly,
failing,
and vice,
bearing in
mind that
what
we
have
before us
are simply
our
own
failings,
follies,
and vices.
_________________________
In the following meeting Philip shared neither his
frightening experiences nor his reasons for abruptly leaving
the previous meeting. Though he now participated more
actively in the group discussions, he always did so at his
own choosing and the members had learned that energy
invested in prying Philip open was energy wasted. Hence
they shifted their attention to Julius and inquired whether
he felt usurped by Philip's ending the meeting last week.
"Bittersweet," he replied. "The bitter part is being
replaced. Losing my influence and my role is symbolic of
all impending endings and renunciations. I had a bad night
after the last meeting. Everything feels bad at 3A.M. I had a
rush of sorrow at all the endings ahead of me: the ending of
the group, of my therapy with all my other patients, the
ending of my last good year. So, that's the bitter. The sweet
is my pride in you guys. And that includes you, Philip.
Pride in your growing independence. Therapists are like
parents. A good parent enables a child to gain enough
autonomy to leave home and function as an adult; in the
same way a good therapist's aim is to enable patients to
leave therapy."
"Lest there be a misunderstanding, I want to clarify
the record," Philip proclaimed. "It was not my intention to
usurp you last week. My actions were entirely self—
protective: I felt inexpressibly agitated by the discussion. I forced myself to remain till the end of the meeting, and
then I had to leave."
"I understand that, Philip, but my preoccupation with
endings is so strong now that I may see portents of endings
and replacement in benign situations. I'm also aware that,
tucked into your disclaimer, is some caring for me. For that
I thank you."
Philip bowed his head slightly.
Julius continued, "This agitation you describe sounds
important. Should we explore it? There are only five
meetings left; I urge you to take advantage of this group
while there's still time."
Though Philip silently shook his head as if to
indicate that exploration was not yet possible for him, he
was not destined to stay silent permanently. In the
following meetings Philip was inexorably drawn in.
Pam opened the next meeting by pertly addressing Gill:
"Apology time! I've been thinking about you and think I