he felt he couldn’t cope with； and overleaf； write down what he most enjoyed。
“Well done；” said the therapist； as he handed in his list。 “That’s the bulk of your work done。 All that remains is for you to decide what you want to do about all these。”
He started by saying good…bye to the things he didn’t favour： wife； children； elderly father； drooling dog。 The family home he sold at a handsome profit； which allowed him to pay off both wife and hefty mortgage。
His job was next in line： early retirement on the grounds of ill health。 Then he went to live in a small apartment in Torremolinos； where he could indulge； all year round； in the two items on his list of preference： golf and windsurfing。
If he wasn’t entirely happy； he was at least； at last； in therapeutic parlance； true to himself。
Two years later he was back in London receiving treatment for depression。
Others 别人（3）
“This therapist is no good at all；” he plained to me。 “She says my problem is； I’m too selfish。 If I did something to benefit other people； my health would improve dramatically。 That’s a plete contradiction of what I was taught before！”
“How can I do both？” he exclaimed despairingly。 “Benefit others whilst remaining true to myself？ It’s impossible！”
As I said； he is a troubled soul。
I can recall being eaten with envy。 It made me feel quite ill。 The object was a girl in my school： blonde； dynamic； with glittering green eyes。 Beyond being beautiful； she was wonderfully self…possessed。 What else could a teenager wish for？
Her smugness irritated me no end。 She was so radiant； so full of fun； so damned pleased with life。 Everyone adored her； except me and a few others equally afflicted。
I nearly fainted the day she came to me requesting； would I be her friend？ Seemingly sincere； she claimed to be in awe of my prowess in the classroom； where she herself had to struggle。
Resentment gave way to devotion。 I became her faithful servant sunning myself in her glory； she my loyal supporter boosting my fragile self。 It was a friendship made in heaven； forged for life。
Sadly； like many flares burning brightly； hers was not made to last。 Shortly after her nineteenth birthday； without warning； she died。
It struck me then as absurd that； of the two of us； she should be the one who perished； while I was the one who was spared。 I had always regarded her as the one who was privileged； myself as the one deprived。
I thought of my former envy and realised that； since we don’t know what’s in store for any of us； envy is never justified。
A friend of mine had been tyrannised by a formidable mother since the day she was born。 She lived under an emotional terror…reign； where guilt was the main offensive weapon。 It seemed she couldn’t blink an eye without causing her mother to be hurt； upset； annoyed； distressed or worse。
“I can’t take any more；” she told me in despair。 “My whole life is spent apologising to my mother。”
“It has to stop；” I agreed。 “You are an adult independent woman。 It’s time you told her once and for all that her emotions are her own responsibility。 No one has a right to blame others for what they feel。”
She heeded my advice。 The message； apparently； was received with ice…cold equanimity。
Some time later； my friend gave a recital – she is a very talented musician。 Her mother； as usual； attended； and afterwards； with relish； pulled her daughter’s performance to pieces； adding； for good measure； quotes from the audience： scathing； humiliating remarks that she purported to have overheard in the ladies’ room。
Her sweet； gentle daughter burst into tears。 “Mummy； don’t say any more；” she pleaded。 “Surely you realise how much it hurts。”
Her mother turned a beady eye on her： “Don’t blame me； dear； for your emotions。 You said it yourself： they are your responsibility。”
“No；” said my friend； reached by a sudden insight – perhaps the most important one she’d had。 “That rule does not apply when someone hurts you intentionally。”
I was every bully’s dream。 They were drawn to me like bees to honey。 Such easy game： I must have been irresistible。
The minute someone wilfully attacked me； verbally or physically； I broke right down； burst into tears： submission； humiliation plete。 Bully’s mission acplished。
How I hated myself for being so weak！ For not being able to stand up for myself。 It left me with a deep sense of shame。
I was too innocent to know that it isn’t weakness to feel aggrieved as you discover brutality where you expected friendship； duplicity where you had placed your trust； malice where you had felt devotion。
At a later stage I learnt that this particular despair was not on behalf of my own person。 I felt – still feel – that same lump in my throat whenever faced with human iniquity： tales of tortured kittens； gratuitous violence； documentaries on the Holocaust； reports of current war atrocities。
However； my lament is not for the victims； whose souls no wanton cruelty can touch； but for those misguided wretches； who deliberately have taken their leave of the only thing worth living for： the only thing that gives life value。
Rejecting and negating human kindness； they’ve placed themselves beyond its reach。 For them there is no hope； no redemption。
Now； as my tears fall for them； I am no longer ashamed。
。。
Duality 二重性（1）
生命中最美妙的一件事就是拥有一个好伙伴——你们一起享受由心而生的开怀大笑，一起品味轻松的友情，他是一个倾听者，一个你可以依靠的人，也是一位愿意牵你手的人。
真正的友谊，好比纯金，你可以很容易地定义它，因为它拥有最完美的平衡感，不为权力和地位所侵蚀，双方全心投入而非相互利用。
人类对于友情的渴望，有时是源自对孤独的恐惧和对安全感的需求。我们正是因为这两点才会变得脆弱，也让那些打着友谊的幌子却怀有不轨之心的人有机可乘。
有些人对别人友好，是因为他知道自己将会从中获利，这样的人还算不上恶劣。恶劣的是那些被嫉妒和愤恨充盈的人，他们通过贬低别人来抬高自己，任意践踏别人伸来的援助之手，通过施压来获得控制权，同样可恶的还有那些将自己的快乐建立于他人痛苦之上的人。
这些人常常把自己伪装成朋友，但实际上却是在暗中搞破坏，极其危险，我们最好避而远之。
因此，我们要注意这些迹象，警惕那些假冒的朋友，同时，也要双倍珍惜那些真正的友人。
我认识一个年轻的家庭，妻子是个不相信婚姻的人。她的父亲很难相处，经常辱骂家人；而她的母亲则常常挨打，饱受蹂躏。这个女人决心不让自己落得与母亲同样的下场，因此她总是试图控制自己的家庭和孩子，也时刻保持着警惕。
她的丈夫是一个很好的居家男人。他期望自己的家庭以及与孩子的关系能够像其他家庭一样正常，看着孩子们跟自己姓。作为家庭中的一分子，他看似分享家庭中的一切，但事实上，妻子可以随时锁上门，把丈夫赶出去，跟新欢出去散步或是把孩子归为己有。
我还认识一对恋人，男人是一个中年商人，女人是年轻的白领。他的第一段婚姻以离婚告终，这让他搭上了一大笔钱。他发誓，再也不让自己陷入如此不利的局面。
女人期待能有婚姻和家庭，但她的境遇却似地狱——男人的朋友们并不愿意接受她。男人的前妻也不许孩子见她。只要是去他家的时候，女人就小心地待在不被注意的角落里。她感觉，所有人都把她看成是下等人，一个不配做他的妻子、不配被爱的人。
这世界上一定还有很多类似的情况。就是有一些人，让自己默默地、甘心情愿地忍受一切痛苦。
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