Ирвин Ялом - The Schopenhauer Cure
in Las Vegas doesn`t change that—to me you`re still pristine and spotless
with tons of confidence. Maybe it`s because I`m flustered now, but I can`t
even remember why you`re in therapy. Stuart`s image of you being a
porcelain doll—that rings true—maybe you`re a little too brittle, maybe
you got some sharp edges—I don`t know.
«And, Pam, you`re a straight shooter, blunt, smartest person I`d ever
met until Philip entered—he can give you a run for it. I know I don`t want
to get on the wrong side of either of you. But, Pam, you`ve got stuff to
work on with men. They`ve given you hard times, but then, again, you
hate us. All of us. Hard to know what`s chicken, what`s egg.
«Philip, you`re way up there, like, in another whole layer or...or
realm ofbeing. But I wonder about you. I wonder if you`ve ever had a
friend—I can`t see you actually hanging out, having a beer, talking about
the Giants. I can`t see you having a good time or actually everliking
anyone. And I`ll tell you the real question for me:why aren`t you lonely? ”
Gill continued on, «Tony, you`re fascinating to me, you work with
your hands, you really do things, not push numbers around like me. I wish
you weren`t so ashamed of your work.
«Well that`s everybody.»
«No, it`s not,” said Rebecca, glancing toward Julius.
«Oh, Julius? He`s of the group, not in the group.»
«What`s вЂofthe group` mean?» asked Rebecca.
«Oh, I don`t know, just a cute phrase I heard and been wanting to
use. Julius—he`s just there for me, for everyone, he`s far above us. The
way he...”
«He?» asked Julius, pantomiming searching about the group.
«Where is this вЂhe` guy?»
«Okay, I meanyou, Julius, the way you`re handling your illness—I
mean it`s impressive—I`ll never forget it.»
Gill stopped. Everyone`s attention remained riveted upon him, but
he exhaled with a loud «whoosh.» He looked as though he had had it and
settled back in his chair, obviously fatigued, and took out a handkerchief
and wiped his face and head.
Sentiments such as «good job, you took some risks» were voiced by
Rebecca, Stuart, Tony, and Bonnie. Pam and Philip remained silent.
«How was that, Gill? You satisfied?» asked Julius.
Gill nodded. «I broke some new ground. Hope I didn`t offend.»
«How about you, Pam? You satisfied?»
«I`ve already put in my time today as the group bitch.»
«Gill, let me ask you to do something,” said Julius. «Imagine a
continuum of self–revealing. At one pole, which we`ll call вЂone,` is the
safest revealing, cocktail party stuff; and at the other pole, call it вЂten,`
would be the deepest and riskiest revealing you can possibly imagine. Got
that?»
Gill nodded.
«Now look back on your go–round just now. Tell me, Gill, what
kind of score would you give yourself?»
Continuing to nod, Gill answered swiftly, «I`d give myself a вЂfour,`
maybe a вЂfive`.»
Julius, wanting to circumvent intellectualization or other defenses
from Gill`s arsenal of resistance, responded instantly, «And now tell me,
Gill, what would happen it you were to ratchet up a notch or two?»
«If I were to ratchet up a notch or two,” Gill replied without
hesitation, «I`d tell the group I was an alcoholic and that I drink myself to
unconsciousness every night.»
The group was stunned, Julius no less than the others. Before he had
brought Gill into the group, he had seen him in individual therapy for two
years andnever, not once, had Gill mentioned an alcohol problem. How
could this be? Julius was congenitally trusting of his patients. He was one
of those optimistic souls who was greatly destabilized by duplicity; he felt
wobbly and needed time to formulate a new vision of Gill. As he mused
silently about his own naГЇvetГ© and the tenuousness of reality, the mood of
the group darkened and progressed from incredulousness to stridency.
«What, you`re joking!»
«I can`t believe it. How could you have come here week after week
and withhold this?»
«You never took a drink with me, not even a beer. What wasthat all
about?»
«Goddamn it! When I think of all the wild–goose chases you led us
on, all the time we wasted.»
«What kind of game were you playing?—everything a lie—I mean
that stuff about Rose`s problems—her bitchiness, her refusing sex, her
refusal to have a child, and not a word about the real issue—your
drinking.»
Once Julius got his bearings, he understood what to do. A basic
axiom that he taught to his group therapy students was:Members should
never be punished for self–disclosure. On the contrary, risk taking must
always be supported and reinforced.
With that in mind, he said to the group: «I understand your dismay
that Gill never told us this before. But let`s not forget one important
thing:today Gill did open up, he did trust us. ” As he spoke, he glanced,
only for a moment, at Philip, hoping that Philip would learn something
about therapy from this transaction. Then to Gill: «What I`m wondering
about iswhat made it possible for you to take this kind of chance today? ”
Gill, too ashamed to face the others, concentrated his attention on
Julius and replied in a chastened tone. «I guess it was the risky revealing
in the last couple of meetings—beginning with Pam and Philip and then
Rebecca and Stuart—I`m pretty sure that was why I could say—”
«How long?» interrupted Rebecca. «How long have you been an
alcoholic?»
«Creeps up on you, you know, so I`m not sure. I always liked the
booze, but I guess I started meeting all the criteria about five years ago.»
«You`re what kind of an alcoholic?» asked Tony.
«My favorite poison is Scotch, cabernet, and black Russians. But I
don`t turn down anything—vodka, gin—totally ambidextrous.»
«What I meant was вЂwhen` and вЂhow much,`” said Tony.
Gill showed no defensiveness and seemed prepared to answer any
question. «Mostly after hours. I start with Scotches as soon as I get home
(or before I get home if Rose is giving me a hard time), and then I work
my way through good wine the rest of the evening—at least a bottle,
sometimes two, until I pass out in front of the TV.»
«Where`s Rose on this?» asked Pam.
«Well, we used to be big wine buffs together, built a two–thousand–bottle cellar, went to auctions. But she`s not encouraging my drinking
now—now she rarely has a glass at dinner and wants no part of any wine–related activities, except for some of her big social wine–tasting events.»
Julius tried again to buck the current and bring the group back to the
here–and–now. «I`m trying to imagine how you must have felt coming to
meeting after meeting here andnot talking about this.»
«It wasn`t easy,” Gill admitted, shaking his head.
Julius always taught students the difference betweenvertical
andhorizontal self–disclosure. The group was pressing, as expected,
forvertical disclosure—details about the past, including such queries as the
scope and duration of his drinking—whereashorizontal disclosure, that
is,disclosure about the disclosure, was always far more productive.
This meeting was vintage stuff for teaching, Julius mused, and he
reminded himself to remember the sequence of events for future lectures
and writing. And then, with a thud, he recalled that the future had no
relevance for him. Though the poisonous black wart had been carved out
of his shoulder, he knew that somewhere in his body lethal colonies of
melanoma remained, voracious cells that craved life more than his own
fatigued cells. They were there, pulsating, gulping oxygen and nutrients,
growing and gathering strength. And his dark thoughts were always there
also, percolating under the membrane of consciousness. Thank God for his
one method of stilling his terror: entering into life as forcefully as
possible. The extraordinarily intense life being lived in this group was
very good medicine for him.
He pressed Gill, «Say more about what passed through your mind
during all those months of group meetings.»
«What do you mean?» said Gill.
«Well, you said, вЂIt wasn`t easy.` Say more about that, about those
meetings and why it wasn`t easy.»
«I`d come here all primed but never could unload; something
always stopped me.»
«Dig into that—thesomething that stopped you.» Julius rarely was
so directive in the group, but he was convinced that he knew how to move
the discussion in a beneficial direction that the group might not take on its
own.
«I like this group,” Gill said. «These are the most important people
in my life. I`ve never been a real member of anything before. I was afraid
I`d lose my place, lose any credibility—exactly like what`s happening
now. Right now. People hate drunks...the group will want to boot me
out...you`ll tell me to go to AA. The group will judge me, not help me.»
That was exactly the cue Julius had been waiting for. He moved
quickly.
«Gill, look around the room—tell me, who are the judges here?»
«Everyone`s a judge.»
«All identically? I doubt it. Try to discriminate. Look around the
group. Who are the main judges?»
Gill kept his gaze on Julius. «Well, Tony can come down on you
pretty hard, but no, not on this—he likes his booze, too. That what you
want?»
Julius nodded encouragement.
«Bonnie?» Gill continued to speak directly to Julius. «No, she`s no
judge—except of herself and, once in a while, of Rebecca—she`s always
gentle with me. Stuart, well, he`s one of the judges; he definitely has a
self–righteous streak. Pretty goody–goody sometimes. And Rebecca, for
sure—I hear a lot of directives: be like me, be sure, be thorough, be
dressed right, be washed, be neat. That why I felt released when Rebecca
and Stuart showed so much vulnerability: that made it possible for me to
open up. And Pam—she`sthe judge. Chief justice. No doubt about it. I
know she thinks I`m weak, unfair to Rose, you name it, everything about
me is wrong. I don`t have much hope of pleasing her—in fact, I don`t
haveany hope.» He halted. «Guess that`s it,” he said, scanning the group.
«Oh yes, Philip.» He spoke to Philip directly, unlike the other members.
«Let`s see...I don`t think of you judging me, but I`m not sure if that`s
entirely a compliment. It`s more that you wouldn`t get close enough or
involved enough with me even to bother judging me.»
Julius was well pleased. He had defused the nonconstructive moan
of betrayal and the punitive grilling of Gill. It was a matter of timing;
sooner or later the details of his alcoholism would be aired, but not at this
moment and in this manner.
What`s more, Julius`s focus on horizontal disclosure had yielded a
bonus—Gill`s ten–minute gutsy go–round was a bonanza of data—enough
there to fuel a couple of good sessions.
Turning to the group, Julius said, «Reactions anyone?»
There was hesitation—not, he imagined, because there was so little
to say but too much. The agenda groaned with its own weight: the
members had to have reactions to Gill`s confession, to his alcoholism, and
his sudden toughness in the last few minutes. He waited expectantly. Good
stuff was on its way.
He noted that Philip was looking at him, and, for a moment, their
gazes met—that was unusual. Perhaps, Julius thought, Philip was
signaling his appreciation of the finesse with which he had conducted this
meeting. Or perhaps Philip was pondering Gill`s feedback to him. Julius
decided to inquire and nodded at Philip. No response. So he said, «Philip,
your feelings so far about this meeting?»
«I`ve been wondering whether you were going to participate.»
«Participate?» Julius was astounded. «I`ve been wondering if I were
too active, too directive today.»
«I meantparticipate in the sharing of secrets, ” said Philip.
Will the time ever come, Julius thought, when Philip will say
something even vaguely predictable? «Philip, I`m not evading your
question, but there are some pressing loose ends here.» He turned to Gill:
«I`m concerned about where you are now.»
«I`m on overload. My only issue is whether you`ll allow me to stay
in the group as an alcoholic,” said Gill, whose forehead glistened with
perspiration.
«Sounds like this is the time you need us most. I wonder, though, if
your bringing it up today indicates that you`re gathering resolve to do
something about it. Perhaps entering a recovery program?»
«Yep. After this meeting, I can`t keep doing what I`m doing. I may
need to call you for an individual session. Okay?»
«Of course—as many as you`ll need.» Julius`s policy was to honor
requests for individual sessions with the proviso that members share the
details of those sessions at the following group meeting.
Julius turned back to Philip. «Back to your question. There`s an old
therapist trick which provides a graceful evasion of embarrassing
questions, and that is to reply, вЂI wonder, why are you asking that
question?` Well, I am going to ask you that, but I`mnot going to evade
you. Instead I`ll offer you a proposition: I promise to answer your question
fully if you agree first to explore your motivations for asking it. Do we
have a deal?»
Philip hesitated, then responded. «Fair enough. My motivation for
the question is not complicated. I want to understand your approach to
counseling and, if possible, integrate any parts that might improve my own
counseling practice. I work very differently from you: I don`t offer an
emotional relationship—I`m not there to love my client. Instead I am an
intellectual guide. I offer my clients instruction in thinking more clearly
and living in accord with reason. Now, perhaps belatedly, I`m beginning
to understand what you`re aiming for—a Buber–like I–thou encounter...”
«Buber? Who?» asked Tony. «Hate to keep sounding like a jerk, but
I`m damned if I`m going to sit here and not know what`s going on.»
«Right on, Tony,” said Rebecca. «Every time you ask a question,
you`re doing it for me too. I don`t know who Buber is.»
Others nodded agreement. Stuart said, «I`ve heard the name—
something about» I–thou “—but that`s it.»
Pam jumped in: «Buber`s a German Jewish philosopher, died about
fifty years ago, whose work explores the true encounter between two
beings—the вЂI–thou,` fully present, caring relationship—as opposed to the
вЂI–it` encounter that neglects the вЂI–ness` of the other and uses rather than
