«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, �I 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 вЂ?I–thou,` fully present, caring relationship—as opposed to the
вЂ?I–it` encounter that neglects the вЂ?I–ness` of the other and uses rather than
relates. The idea has come up a lot here—what Philip did to me years ago
was to use me as an it.»
«Thanks, Pam, I got it,” said Tony, and then turned to Philip. «Are
we all on the same page?»
Philip looked at Tony in a quizzical manner.
«You don`t know whatthat means?» said Tony. «Gotta get you a
dictionary of twentieth–century talk. Don`t you ever turn on your TV?»
«I don`t have a TV,” said Philip in an even, nondefensive tone. «But
if you are asking, Tony, whether I agree with Pam`s response about Buber,
the answer is yes—I could not have said it as well.»
Julius was fascinated:Philip uttering Tony`s and Pam`s name?
Philip complimenting Pam? Were these merely evanescent events, or
might they be heralding a momentous change? How much he loved being
alive, Julius thought—alive in this group.
«You still got the floor, Philip. I interrupted you,” said Tony.
Philip continued, «So I was saying to Julius...I mean, I was saying
to you»—he turned to Julius—right?»
«Right, Philip,” Julius replied. «I think you`re going to be a fast
learner.»
«So,” Philip went on, speaking in the measured tone of a
mathematician, «First proposition: you wish to have an I–thou encounter
with each client. Second proposition: an вЂ?I–thou` consists of a fully
reciprocal relationship—by definition it cannot be a unilateral intimacy.
Third: in the last couple of meetings people here have revealed a lot about
themselves. Hence my entirely justifiable question to you: are you not
required to reciprocate?»
After a moment of silence Philip added, «So that`s the conundrum. I
intended only to observe how a counselor of your persuasion handles a
client`s request for parity.»
«So, your motivation is primarily a test of whether I`ll be consistent
in my approach?»
«Yes, not a test ofyou, personally, but of yourmethod. ”
