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response. After a moment of reflection with his eyes closed he pronounced,

«Perhaps it is best to follow Dr. Hertzfeld`s procedure...”

«Call me Julius.»

«Ah, yes. So, to follow Julius`s procedure, I must first check whether

Tony`s hypothesis is consonant with my inner experience.» Philip paused, shook

his head. «I find no evidence for this. Many years ago I tore myself free from

attachment to public opinion. I firmly believe that the happiest of men are those

who seek for nothing so much as solitude. I speak of the divine Schopenhauer, of

Nietzsche and Kant. Their point, and my point, is that the man of inner wealth

wants nothing from the outside except the negative gift of undisturbed leisure

which permits him to enjoy his wealth—that is, his intellectual faculties.

«In short, then, I conclude that my contributions do not stem from an

attempt to seduce anyone or elevate myself in your eyes. Perhaps there are tatters

of this desire left; I can only say I do not consciously experience it. I do recognize

regret that I myself have only mastered the great thoughts, not contributed to

them.»

In his decades of leading therapy groups Julius had experienced many

silences, but the silence that followed Philip`s response was unlike any other. It

was not the silence accompanying great emotion nor the silence signifying

dependency, embarrassment, or bafflement. No, this silence was different, as

though the group had stumbled upon a new species, a new life–form, perhaps a

six–eyed salamander with feathered wings, and, with utmost caution and

deliberateness, slowly circled it.

Rebecca was the first to respond, «To be so content, to need so little from

others, never to crave the company of others—sounds pretty lonely, Philip.»

«On the contrary,” said Philip, «in the past, when I craved the company of

others, asked for something which they would not, indeed could not, give—

thatwas when I knew loneliness. I knew it very well. To need no person is never

to be lonely. Blessed isolation is what I seek.»

«Yet you`re here,” said Stuart, «and take it from me—this group is the

archenemy of isolation. Why expose yourself to this?»

«Every thinker must support his habit. Either they were fortunate enough to

have had a university stipend like Kant or Hegel or independent means like

Schopenhauer or a day job like Spinoza, who ground lenses for spectacles to

support himself. I have chosen philosophical counseling as my day job, and this

group experience is part of my certification experience.»

«That means, then,” said Stuart, «that you are engaging with us in this

group, but your ultimate goal is to help others never to need such engagement.»

Philip paused and then nodded.

«Let me be sure I got you right,” said Tony. «If Rebecca digs you, comes

on to you, turns on her charm, gives you her amazing killer smile, you`re saying it

has no effect on you? Zero?»

«No, I didn`t say ‘no effect.` I agree with Schopenhauer when he wrote that

beauty is an open letter of recommendation predisposing the heart to favor the

person who presents it. I find that an individual of great beauty is wondrous to

behold. But I`m also saying that someone else`s opinion of me does not, must not,

alter my opinion of myself.»

«Sounds mechanical. Not quite human,” replied Tony.

«What truly felt inhuman was the time when I allowed my estimation of my

value to bob up and down like a cork according to the regard flowing from

inconsequential others.»

Julius stared at Philip`s lips. What a marvel they were. How exactly they

mirrored Philip`s calm composure, how steadfast, how unquavering, as they

shaped each passing word into the same perfect roundness of pitch and tone. And

it was easy to empathize with Tony`s escalating desire to ruffle Philip. But

knowing Tony`s impulsivity might quickly escalate, Julius decided it was time to

steer the discussion into a more benign direction. It was not time to confront

Philip; this was only his fourth meeting.

«Philip, earlier in your comments to Bonnie you said that your aim was to

be helpful to her. And you`ve also given counsel to others here—Gill, Rebecca.

Can you say more about why you do that? It seems to me there is something in

your desire to counsel that goes beyond a day job. After all, there`s no financial

incentive in offering your help to others here.»

«I try always to keep in mind that we are all sentenced to an existence filled

with inescapable misery—an existence which none of us would choose if we

knew the facts ahead of time. In that sense we are all, as Schopenhauer put

it,fellow sufferers, and we stand in need of tolerance and love from our neighbors

in life.»

«Schopenhauer again! Philip, I hear too damn much about Schopenhauer—

whoever he is—and too damn little about you.» Tony spoke calmly, as though

imitating Philip`s measured tone, yet his breathing was shallow and rapid.

Generally, confrontation came easily to Tony; at the time he began therapy

scarcely a week passed without a physical contretemps in a bar, in traffic, at work,

or on the basketball court. Though not a large man, he was fearless in

confrontation; except for one situation—a clash of ideas with an educated

articulate bully, someone exactly like Philip.

Philip gave no sign he intended to respond to Tony. Julius broke the

silence. «Tony, you seem deep in thought. What`s running through your mind?

«I was thinking about what Bonnie said earlier in the meeting about

missing Pam. Me, too. I been missing her today.»

Julius was not surprised. Tony had become accustomed to Pam`s tutelage

and protection. The two of them had had struck up an odd–couple relationship—

the English professor and the tattooed primitive. Using an oblique approach,

Julius said, «Tony, I imagine it`s not easy for you to say, ‘Schopenhauer, whoever

that is.`”

«Well, we`re here to tell the truth,” Tony responded.

«Right on, Tony,” said Gill, «and, I`ll fess up too: I don`t know who

Schopenhauer is.»

«All I know,” noted Stuart, «is that he`s a famous philosopher. German,

pessimistic. Was he nineteenth century?»

«Yes, he died in 1860, in Frankfurt,” said Philip, «and, as for pessimism, I

prefer to think of it asrealism. And, Tony, it may be true I speak of Schopenhauer

overly often, but I have good reason to do so.» Tony seemed shocked that Philip

had addressed him personally. Even so, Philip still made no eye contact. No

longer staring at the ceiling, he looked out the window, as if intrigued by

something in the garden.

Philip continued: «First, to know Schopenhauer is to know me. We are

inseparable, twin–brained. Secondly, he has been my therapist and has offered me

invaluable help. I have internalized him—of course I mean his ideas—as many of

you have done with Dr. Hertzfeld. Wait—I mean Julius.» Philip smiled faintly as

he glanced at Julius—his first moment of levity in the group. «Last, I harbor a

hope that some of Schopenhauer`s sentiments will be of benefit to you as they

have been to me.»

Julius, glancing at his watch, broke the silence that had followed Philip`s

remark. «It`s been a rich meeting, the kind of meeting I hate to bring to an end,

but time`s up today.»

«Rich? What am I missing?» muttered Tony, as he stood and started toward

the door.