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Title:.

Breakfast with Ram Dass | Interview with Dr. Richard Alpert
Publication:. Drug Survival News
Editor:. Jim Parker
Date:. May-June 1982
Pages:. 12-20

During the past 20 years, Richard Alpert has made a career of being a step-and-a-half ahead of everybody else, psychosocially--and living to tell about it. With Harvard colleague Timothy Leary, Alpert was a guiding force in the psychedelic movement of the early 1960s, eventually winning censure and dismissal from the university with Leary as a result of the sheer fervency of their psychedelic zeal--and their practice of doling out psilocybin and LSD to curious undergraduates.

After a year-long stay in India in 1967-68 (during which time he came under the tutelage of Neem Karoli Baba, a spiritual teacher known to his followers simply as "Maharaji"), Alpert returned to the United States sporting a new role, guru to the emerging American "New Age" spiritual community, and a new name given him by Maharaji, Ram Dass ("Servant of God").

In the years since, Alpert/Dass has continually expanded his circle of influence, lecturing, leading retreats and ashrams, and authoring a number of books on his own and others' spiritual transformation, including Be Here Now, Journey of Awakening: A Meditator's Guidebook, and The Only Dance There Is, a transcribed selection of talks he delivered at the Menninger Foundation and Spring Grove Hospital in 1970 and 1972.

Not bad, all in all, for a self-described one-time "good, Jewish middle-class, upwardly-mobile, anxiety-ridden neurotic."

DSN Editor Jim Parker conducted the interview that follows over breakfast at the Howard Johnson's Motor Lodge in Tempe, Arizona, April 10, 1982. Parker reports:

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To be very brief and very precise, Richard Alpert is a most remarkable man.

In reviewing the events of his life, images of Siddhartha come to mind. Herman Hesse's classic study of spiritual life and growth seems a near-perfect literary analogy for Alpert's own life. The elements are remarkably similar: a restless young man vaguely dissatisfied with the high social status to which he was born who rejects that world for a life of ascetic renunciation and spiritual discovery. Along the way, he is tempted by, and succumbs to, pleasures of the flesh and narrowly avoids the snares of spiritual pride. Ultimately, he recognizes the divinity we all share and devotes himself to a life of service -- in Siddhartha's case, working as a boatman on a river, in Alpert's case, writing, speaking, and teaching, demonstrating by his example the eternal cycle of birth, death, contemplation, and karma.

But Alpert would probably tell you to hold the pickles and onions before swallowing that analogy whole, or any other "cosmic melodrama" which would have you accept him, in the end, smiling vacantly in the sun like a Walt Disney's Studios version of the Eternal One Himself.

No, Dick Alpert is more complex than that--and infinitely more satisfying as an interview subject and as a person than any flat image or preconceived notion could prepare you for.

My introduction to Alpert came during a lecture of his which I'd attended the evening before. I introduced myself during a break, and told him that I'd very much like to interview him for Drug Survival News. He looked dubious, so I told him that I'd interviewed his ex--cohort, colleague, and partner-in--crime Timothy Leary several months before and that I was convinced that our readers would be interested in how their paths had converged and diverged over the years. He looked curiously at a copy of the DSN interview with Leary that I'd brought along, then gave me a smile and the great international why-not shrug and we made plans to meet for breakfast the following morning.

The morning-after breakfast had originally been intended as something of a reward and general leave-taking for the organizers of the previous evening's lecture (a well-organized event, indeed, held on the campus of Arizona State University and attended by more than 2,000 of the local curious and faithful). The fact that the guest of honor (or the host, depending on how you look at these things) was occupied throughout the meal fending off questions from a reporter turned the breakfast into something more (or less--depending, again, on your perspective) than it had been scheduled to be, but if anyone minded they didn't show it, seeming almost reverentially interested throughout in Alpert's answers to the questions I asked.

Alpert (He told me that he favors his given name again after nearly a decade and a half on the "holy man circuit" as Ram Dass) was a most engaging subject throughout the interview. As one who had known him over the past decade or so only through his books and taped lectures and meditations, I was pleasantly surprise--and mildly disoriented, at first--to learn that he does not present himself as a holy man in the great plaster-saint tradition of perpetual piety.

When I asked if followers were ever disappointed that their expectations might not measure up to the genuine article before them, he laughed and assured me that it happens all the time but that he does his best to struggle on nonetheless.

Because it suddenly seemed pertinent, I told him about an experience I had as a very small, very well indoctrinated, young Catholic. For the most part, I was very much an eclectic reader as a boy--reading everything that would sit still long enough to be read--everything from biographies to box scores to cereal boxes. But at this particular stage in my life I received a good part of my information about the world from two primary sources: Superman comics and the Baltimore catechism--whose questions and answers on Catholic canon I memorized out of no particular fondness for rote learning, but merely to hold my own in the five-day-a-week grilling which passed for religious instruction at Our Lady of Lourdes School in Decatur, Illinois.

So I struggled with all the great ecclesiastical issues in Church history during the day and read and re-read Superman comics at night and gradually formed a general understanding of the Way Things Are by synthesizing the two and occasionally, superimposing one view upon the other.

One of the earliest conflicts of faith I ever experienced, I told Alpert, came one evening as I was engrossed in Superman's latest contest with evil personified by Lex Luthor or Mr. Mxzypltk or some other No-Goodnik and, in the context of the story, I realized Superman had told a lie. Oh, it was a small one--white lies, they were called then, but my brain was suddenly a computer with a jammed input terminal and "Does Not Compute!" lights flared across my mind.

Superman can't tell a lie, I remembered thinking in disbelief. He can do all things, but he can't tell a lie.
Alpert was smiling by this time and I told him that I thought about writing D.C. Comics a letter and letting them know they made a mistake (I may even have done it for that matter, but if I did I don't remember getting a response). And, for whatever reason, I carried that knowledge around with me for years--that I had caught Superman telling a lie.

Then I told him how one morning when I was ten, or eleven, or twelve, I woke up and realized I had it wrong, that it's God who can't tell a lie.

Superman can do anything he wants to do. He's only a man. It's God who can't tell a lie. He can do anything else, but He can't tell a lie.

Alpert laughed and admitted that he gets the same sort of treatment from people whenever he implies that some days are good days, yes, even for holy men, and some days it just doesn't pay to get out of bed. People like their illusions, he told me, because it's comforting to think that you can get to the point where everything is happiness and contentment and egolessness and bliss all the time. He said that it might be fine if things worked that way but it's fine, too, that they don't, and to get ensnared in other people's projections is to get lost inside something that ultimately doesn't mean very much.

And then he leaned back in his chair in the middle of Howard Johnson's and he took a breath and he closed his eyes in a quiet prayer for a moment and l realized that God could, too, tell a lie--a whopper, if He wanted.

He just doesn't want to.

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DSN: You've played a lot of different roles in the past 20 years or so. How would you describe what you're doing now and how does it connect with what you did before?

ALPERT: It feels like a very natural progression. It's as if everything I learned as a psychologist and that I learned through psychedelics and that I learned through yoga, the sum amalgam of all of it is what I am now, and the role I seem to have is that of being able to be in a way a kind of mouthpiece for a process that is going on in a lot of people. I don't feel I'm any further advanced or anything else than others. It's just as if a lot of us have gone through a similar process at a time that is very simultaneous. And so when I speak, there's a kind of feedback loop that occurs, where I see an audience and their responses affect what I'm saying. There's a feedback process that goes on so in a way we're talking to ourself. It's not that I know and they don't. We're just reflecting with ourselves about what we're doing and what we're understanding about reality and our work on earth.

I feel everything's been feeding into it--all of the past. I don't think I had to deny any part of my past in order to be in this moment now.

DSN: But you did have to change to get here. What was Richard Alpert like before he became Ram Dass?

ALPERT: It's interesting now because we're doing a sequence because what happened was that Richard Alpert tasted, through psychedelics, some other part of his being and then that got named Ram Dass and then he pushed Ram Dass up and all of those parts of Richard Alpert that weren't quite acceptable under, and now, finally realizing I have to integrate it all, I'm back being Dick Alpert again. So now slowly, Ram Dass is disappearing into Dick Alpert again. It's being incorporated.

DSN: You obtained much of your initial fame as a proponent of psychedelic drugs. How has that affected who you are now?

ALPERT: It seems to me until about 4 or 5 years ago I was identified as being Tim Leary's partner. That's my basic identity in the world. And I was that guy, that was my association. I was always introduced that way. Then things started to change and I feel now that my identity is pretty independent of that. I mean, I honor that because Tim was a great teacher for me, but I don't feel any longer that it's a detriment. I feel like it's an asset to have been connected with psychedelics.

There are a lot of people who are part of middle-class America who, the minute they hear I'm identified with drugs, historically, reject me. I was doing a radio interview the' other day in Sacramento, California, and a woman called in and she said; "How can anybody who has been so unconscious ecologically about their inner being, to use drugs on it, be trusted in anything they say?" That attitude still exists in the culture.
Generally though, what I experience is that it gives me a much broader hearing in the culture than otherwise...

My role is a funny role because all I have to prove is that I'm not psychotic. Because here I've taken LSD like 300 times and lots of other drugs and smoked a lot of dope and all, and yet here I am being sponsored by churches in America and being in very, very straight social settings and I come in and all I say to them is, "Well, I've taken all these drugs and since we know they make you crazy, obviously I'm psychotic so you people are here, hearing a psychotic." It's interesting because then they slowly learn that they don't have to feel that way.

DSN: What's your relationship with Tim Leary like today?

ALPERT: Tim and I, after we split up in about 1965, went on very, very different routes in our lives. Our relationship was a little strained at times through the years, but I visited him in prison several times and I visited him when he escaped. But, recently, in the past year, we've visited a number of times together and found that the depth of our love and our connection is very strong, behind all of the forms and dramas of our lives. We don't agree about what kinds of things we want to do with our time and consciousness, but we certainly go behind those spaces and meet in a place where we recognize one another. In fact, the night before last I lectured in Los Angeles and he was at my lecture and came up afterwards and said hello. I think we both appreciate the humor of our predicaments.

DSN: How often do you lecture?

ALPERT: Now I'm on tour, so I'm lecturing every other night for two months. I usually teach about eight or nine months a year-not as intensively as this, I teach retreats and things like that. Then I take three months off, usually, and re-collect myself.

DSN: How did you break into the holy man business in the first place?

ALPERT: The actual event is a very funny event because I came back, to just sort of be by myself in a cabin on my father's farm and just live like I lived in India. And I had to go into town for some groceries and I borrowed my father's car, which was a Cadillac, and I drove into this little village in New Hampshire. And I had a Massachusetts license plate and it was New Hampshire, and these kids sidled up to me' and they said, "You got some acid for sale?"' and I said, "Why do you ask?" And they said, "Well, we see a Cadillac from Massachusetts and a guy that looks like you and we assumed-we were waiting for a connection to come into town-we assumed you're it." And I said, "I'm not that kind of connection anymore." And they said, "Well, what kind of connection are you?" And I started to talk to them and they came to the house and then they brought their friends and then they brought their parents and the ministers and the whole thing developed until pretty soon 200-300 people were coming every weekend just to hang out and talk about spirit and stuff like that. It was an interesting transition, at that point.

DSN: So it was a spontaneous thing. You didn't go to India and have some sort of revelation to come back and lead an American spiritual revolution?

ALPERT: None whatsoever, none whatsoever. I still don't.

DSN: No Messiah complex?

ALPERT: Uh-uh. Not then, nor now.

DSN:A couple of lecture tours back, you booked your talks as "Nothing New By Nobody Special." And along the way you've said that the goal of a spiritual seeker is not to become somebody but to become nobody. But very clearly, you are somebody to your followers. Does that create any psychic tensions or conflicts as you balance the expectations of your followers with your own need to become nobody special?

ALPERT: It's more like nobody being somebody. If I'm identified with being an interviewee at this point, then I'm caught in somebody-ness. If I'm the person who you think you're interviewing, then I'm caught in somebody-ness. But I'm not. I'm just here, eating my eggs and talking to you and it turns out that in this process, something's happening. But I'm not identified enough with it to make me suffer. So in a way, I'm not being anybody in particular, and I'm just being whoever it is you're asking me to be from moment to moment.

Like when you say to me, "What's it like to be somebody famous?" It's completely irrelevant to me because that isn't who I am. Other people project stuff-that's their projections. If I buy it, then I'm caught in "How does it feel to be famous?" Well, I better stand like this (strikes exaggerated pose), but it's absurd. It has nothing to do with me at all. I'm just fulfilling these roles.

The fatigue and the burnout comes from the identification with the role. I do the roles, but I don't have to identify with them. So, in a way, it reinforces, because every time I'm doing something and I start to experience...like I'll get caught in being a lecturer at times. Like before a lecture, I'll get nervous or I'll get tense. Then I'm getting caught in my role. And I can feel that thickness, that heaviness, and I know that I've got some work to do on myself which is what I'm doing on this tour: to clean up my act, to get quiet again inside, to rest in a place where nobody's doing anything. Lecturing is just happening, it's me--being a doer. It has to do with the Bhagavad Gita's injunction not to identify with being the actor. So in a sense, I'm experiencing being more nobody-special all the time.

DSN: So you tour as much to work on yourself as anything else?

ALPERT: Everything I do is to work on myself. Right now, that's all I'm doing. It just happens that you're getting an interview out of it.

I don't know what else to do other than to work on myself for everybody else. I mean, it's part of all of us, collectively, but I am working on myself in order to get my heart open, my mind quiet, get everything settled in such a way that I can be there for awhile.

DSN: Over the past 10-15 years or so, you've spent a good deal of your time lecturing, touring, teaching. What changes are the most important, psychically, spiritually, that you've noticed during this time?

ALPERT: One of the most dramatic things is that what was new that came into the culture through psychedelics in the early '60s has now been absorbed into the mainstream of the culture... not in the full mainstream, but into a very significant segment of the mainstream. So that while my audiences were a certain very select age group and cultural background group initially, now if you look at the audience, it's incredibly heterogeneous. And they all are hearing each other. What I experienced was that the psychedelics broke through, then that got interpreted through rock-and-roll music and got into the mainstream of the culture the whole idea of realities being relative rather than absolute. And that is now much more an accepted part of the mainstream of the culture. So that now, kids who never took drugs, I can meet, and all the stuff I got to through taking drugs, they already know. And so in a way, the drug experience for that purpose is anachronistic, it's used up, it's irrelevant. Which is interesting, because I'd say a good 50 percent of my audiences now have never taken any drug at all other than aspirins, and sleeping pills, and coffee, and cigarettes, and liquor. I mean they are mainstream drug users rather than . . . New Age drug users.

And that's interesting to me. Previously, the gulf was very great and there were those that had and those that hadn't, and now it's cut across much more broadly.

DSN: So you feel that drugs served some sort of useful purpose?

ALPERT: I think they did to social perceptions what Einstein did to Newton. They shifted our perception of reality. They weren't the only things that did it. I think they were part of a complex of determinants which included television, mobility, affluence.. It included a lot of products of technology other than chemicals. But they were certainly a major influence. I don't question that.

I think they've been bad-rapped badly by the fears of the society about growth and change. Tim and I argued in that article "Politics of Consciousness," which was back in the Harvard Review back in the '60s that society in a way needs these kinds of pseudopods of experimentation but they usually can't handle it because it's too heretical. I mean that's what I felt we were doing at Harvard, we were heretics and we were a heresy because the worship of that time was of science and the intellectual-rational mind and we were saying "You've gotta go out of your mind," like Ronnie Laing would say.

DSN: Do you think that drugs continue to have a meaningful purpose? Or are they just an evolutionary stage you leave behind?

ALPERT: I still find chemicals useful to me in different ways. I've been working with a chemical that is not on any list. It doesn't exist yet. I was in therapy this winter and my therapist gave it to me and it was a chemical that allowed me, really, to look at a lot of my personality psychodynamics from a more impersonal-space. And it was extremely useful to me.

I have found that every year or so to take something like LSD reminds me of what I forgot. There are certain kinds of toxicities that build up just from being part of a culture that are certain kinds of lock-ins or blinders that you oppose. And you take it like a physic and it just kind of cleans all the cobwebs away and "Oh, wow, I forgot that."

I don't feel an urgency to take it or an attachment to take it. Sometimes I don't even particularly want to take it. My guru's instructions to me were "If you're in a cool place and you're feeling much peace and your mind is turned towards God and you're alone, it could be useful." And I found that under those conditions, it is useful. I've taken it in other conditions and they've been a mixed bag. Sometimes it helps and sometimes not.

Now the milder psychedelics--hash and marijuana and stuff like that--I use off and on. I find, again, a mixed effect. I find that they, at times, will override certain kinds of inhibitory mechanisms in me and allow my mind to flow more freely and other times they will exacerbate my paranoia. Because a mild psychedelic isn't strong enough to override whatever is an existing pattern. So if you're in a really good space it'll take you into a better space; if you're in a bad space, it'll take you into a worse space. Powerful psychedelics do something else--they override no matter what. I mean I've taken intravenous LSD that didn't give a damn what state I was in, it just took me beyond it so fast there wasn't even a moment. You were just on the elevator going up to the Trade Building in New York and it was like--zap! It was out there.

But gentle psychedelics don't do that and Often I make the mistake, I still make the mistake, of being in a bad space and thinking that if I take a mild psychedelic, I can override it. And actually, all it does is exacerbate it, just makes it worse.

But the amount of psychedelics I use now to intensify sensual experience...unless somebody else initiates it, I don't do it. I'm still social enough that if somebody hands me a joint I'll smoke it, but I don't initiate it unless I really need to use it for something about my consciousness. I don't sit around my room smoking, in other words.

DSN: Well I'm glad. It would have destroyed some of my illusions about you if you did.

ALPERT: But I think that it's important not to get into the good and evil thing about drugs. I keep coming back always to the same thing that the issue is one of education. The society and individuals should be educated but everybody should have the right still to do what they need to do with their own consciousness. And the government does not have the right to legislate about human consciousness. I still feel as strongly about that as I did when I worked with Tim. And I think Tim feels strongly about that, too.

DSN: What do you think that groups like the Moral Majority represent? Is it a reawakening of spiritual consciousness or lust the old Puritan ethic coming back?

ALPERT: A lot of it comes out of fear and the fear comes out of the uncertainties of the moment. It comes out of economic uncertainties, terrorism, anarchy, the potential annihilation of the world. And it's a way of saying, "If I hold tight to what I always knew, I can reassert the familiar and I'll reduce my anxiety. I want it to be like it was 30 years ago." It's also a clinging to righteousness: "If I'm good enough, I will get rid of evil out of the world." It's externalizing those forces in the world that are really in all of us, and making believe they're in the other guy so it just feeds paranoia on itself. I think it's just another sign of the anxiety. I don't think it's the essence of what we are about in this culture. I think there are other forces equally as strong as this. I think it's been overly built.

It's like the difference between the living Christ and Christianity. It's the same thing. It's a kind of a clinging to a set of rules in order to protect yourself from the unexpected and fear. It's a world of ritual and superstition: "If I do this and do this and if we make believe this doesn't exist, it'll go away." And that isn't the way the world seems to really work. And so it's constantly creating an unreality.

I've watched the Moral Majority do a lot of horrendous things to a lot of very beautiful politicians, and I'm sure they have a lot of power. I personally don't feel that ultimately they're any great threat to the world situation.

DSN: One of the areas that Moral Majority-type groups have particularly focused on has been youthful drug abuse...

ALPERT: Well, there is a hell of a lot of youthful drug abuse. The thing is, we don't want to sweep under the counter the fact that young people have said, "Well, the hell with it, I'm just gonna get what I can now..." See what happens is, when I say you're in nobody training, I realized finally that you have to become somebody before you can become nobody. A lot of kids start to go into nobody training a little too early, and they haven't developed. I mean, I think smoking grass in junior high school is really a stupid thing to do. Because it seems to me that what you're doing is you're cutting down the sharpness and clarity of the cognitive tools you have to develop a structure for grounding, for effectively functioning within the social structure. And then once you have that, then you can start to develop the other parts of your being.

I mean I pay my taxes and I know my zip code and I can drive and all that stuff, and that's where I think the kids blow it a little bit because they don't develop the ground first...They'd rather have the little candy bar now than the big candy bar later, in the terms of gratification.

DSN: How do you prevent that?

ALPERT: That's a tricky one because that's so much part of the culture now. There's a lot of hedonism in the culture at the moment.

I think that there are ways in which parents and educators and society can be concerned without being repressive. I think they can be concerned in a way to increase education, to increase a respect for the kid's predicament, to listen to what the kid's predicament is. I think that all they do is alienate and create revolutions. I mean, the problem is that there's a lot of hypocrisy in this culture, like the relation between the laws regarding alcohol and the laws regarding pot. The kids can see that this is hypocrisy. The kids can see that alcohol is more detrimental. Yet because of the power of the liquor lobby, drug research is often political. It's political and supported by the lobbies, political lobbies, in order to preserve the legality of alcohol. And that's being supported by the guy 5 who were the rum-runners back in the Prohibition days, who were the pushers. It's like imagining all the pushers now becoming the establishment 50 years from now, and knocking some other chemical that comes along because it's gonna cut in on their territory. And you know damn well they'd do it.

DSN: Over the years, you've been actively involved in working with prison populations and others in the therapeutic use of LSD and other drugs, and ultimately, of meditation. Do you still feel that LSD and other drugs have legitimate therapeutic applications?

ALPERT: Probably psychedelics in conjunction with other therapeutic and setting variables are incredibly valuable for bringing about behavior change--behavior modification. I think it can't be done to a person, it has to be done in collaboration with them. I don't think it can be injected in a medical kind of way. It has to be taken where there is some trust, where there is some rapport, where once the person has overridden their habitual thought patterns chemically, then there is somebody to help them re-perceive the traps that their mind gets them into. Otherwise, they just go out and come back in. But there has been some good research and there's still some good research--much too little, as far as I'm concerned.

DSN: Over the centuries, drugs have played an important part in the formulation and practice of any number of religious and spiritual movements. What is it about the state of intoxication or transcendence that various drugs produce that appeals to the human spirit?

ALPERT: Well, historically, they have been parts of initiation rites and processes in which people have been able to go beyond the facade of their own minds in order to connect to the living spirit, to God, to living truth. We are much, much more than we think we are, and in order to function on this plane of reality, we get addicted to our thinking minds, which is our ego structure. We forget about our own divinity. We forget about this higher part of our being. Chemicals have been used traditionally to bring back that memory, to remember God, to reawaken--not only to remember intellectually, but to experientially remember--the living spirit. When we transcend any kind of limited framework of thought we also transcend standing in any place in time and space, so we start to have all kinds of not only feelings, but actual instances, of omniscience, omnipotence, all kinds of parapsychic phenomena, all the miracles that the bibles of the world refer to, those are all possible...I've lived in India too long to question any of that anymore. And these doorways are opened by the proper use of chemicals under certain conditions. In fact, in Patanjali Ashtanga Yoga, which is a very ancient form of yoga in India, drugs are considered one of the traditional vehicles--along with other techniques for plumbing the depths of being and for opening up the door to these siddhis, or psychic powers, or spiritual powers.

DSN: How do you feel about the future? Are you optimistic about our chances? And what do you think we have to look forward to?

ALPERT: I really found, finally, that I can have an infinite variety of scenarios about what's possible, but I saw that whatever scenario I had I still had to do the same thing day by day. I had to open my heart and quiet my mind and deepen my compassion and deepen my emptiness, the empty quality of my being. And that I had to do all that no matter whether the world was going to end in one minute or whether it was going to go on for a million years or whether we were at the beginning of a new age or whether this was the end of a cycle. And so I've really lost interest in what I call these astral melodramas of how does it all come out. I'm not, basically, either pessimistic or optimistic. It all just is.

It seems to me a very scary and exciting time. It's scary for that part of me which is separate, it's very exciting for that part of me which is the One at play, because I'm playing with chaos and change and instability and uncertainty. What a great playground for developing equanimity! There's an old Chinese saying, "It's a curse to be born in an interesting time," because it'll catch you and you get so lost in it. But it's only a curse if you're not really centered. If you start to be centered, then it's a way of cleaning up your act a little more. It's just a hot fire of purification.

I think that there are, in us, some wishes, like an Armageddon wish: "Let's get it over with because we've blown it anyway." There are wishes in us that we want to have more pleasure and more possessions, and we want our government to do whatever it has to do to protect those things. Then there are parts of us that say we want to be compassionate and caring about the have-nots of the world...We have to get our own act together in our own beings because it is inside each of us that these forces are ripping against each other. So, I really see that one of the things we have to do is develop the integrity within our own being of bringing all those things together. So that you don't go to one place and see the Oneness and come to another place and say, "Yeah, we're all one but, nevertheless, this is mine..." You have to be impeccable across levels...

DSN: What are your own plans for the future?

ALPERT: There are a lot of different things that are bubbling around that will undoubtedly happen. One of them is that there's going to come a time when I really want to be quieter and live a more sedentary life, so I can touch deeper parts of my being and I can be there in society in a quieter way. I think that society needs that. Our society, which is an action society, keeps getting people to do more and do more, and I think that if we did a lot less we'd be a hell of a lot better off. I don't think we nave to keep achieving at all. I think that if we just stop for a while and cool out, it would be better. Less might be more. Small might be more beautiful.

Now that I've said that, in a funny way given lip service to it, I'm just finding my way to honor what my humanness is about, and that involves my dealing and struggling, often, with my relationship work, personal relationships, and also with my responsibilities as a member of society, and a member of humanity, and so on. I've become very involved in the realization of the absurdity of the nuclear weapon build-up and the whole bizarre idea of using annihilation or massacre of a billion people as a political card of power politics. It's too bizarre it's so unconscious, it's so out of control, that something in me rises up--not anger, but my intuitive sense of disharmony of things rises up to say, "That has to be righted." So, I find myself more active in anti-nuclear demonstrations, and I probably will be open to acts of civil disobedience at some point and things like that. So, that'll play a part in my life.

I've been lecturing now for 20 years, roughly, on tours, and I have been always afraid of television as a medium because I felt that I would get lost into the power world of it. But I'm maybe feeling stronger now and less attached to my own need for power and think that maybe I could play. I'd like to have a weekly television show and explore the way in which spirit and consciousness manifest through various aspects of life. Do depth conversations with people like truck drivers and housewives and mothers and political activists and

DSN: And drug newspaper editors?

ALPERT: Drug newspaper editors and all, yes.

DSN: How do you hope to be remembered?

ALPERT: I hope not to be remembered. I don't care. It's just irrelevant. I feel now that what's exciting is the concept we call, in the positive sense, networking--which means the recognition that the basic social institution is the individual human heart. That means every individual human heart. We don't need these kinds of hero figures and mythic models that way any more. I think we have to develop more self-respect for ourselves. I'm feeling very much part of a process, part of a wave of consciousness. I don't feel like I'm a leader in it, and I don't feel like I'm a follower. I merely feel that I'm part of it. I don't feel put down or put up. I think that what is historically interesting are these waves of consciousness and these movements of awakening...rather than the individuals involved...

I don't think it's important that I be remembered, nor do I think I will be. For a long time I thought I was just sort of an anachronism from the '60s. And now I feel like I seem to have a continuing role in a broader part of society, and it's a lot of fun. I'm enjoying myself more because I want it all less--which is important. I don't want specialness. It's interesting that when you don't want the specialness, you can allow yourself to be special in the projections of other people without burning out through it. Because it's your wanting of it that burns you out, not other people's projections. People say that fame is a real drag, but it's only a drag if you want it. If you don't want it, it's no drag at all. It goes through you, just like Chinese food.

DSN: You don't think that you'll be remembered as Ram Dass, the great spiritual leader who turned America around and ushered in the age of spiritual enlightenment and discovery?

ALPERT: No. Isn't that funny? That sounds so bizarre to me. I mean it does nothing at all. Nothing resonates in me. It isn't even interesting to me.

DSN: You don't even grant it as a possibility?

ALPERT: Anything's a possibility. I don't know what people will do with their minds. It's interesting because people came along and collected all of Tim's memorabilia, but no one's ever done that with my stuff. I always assumed that I was a kind of hustler who was using other people's juice to play with. I was using Tim and I was using my guru and all that, and, now, I'm using God's juice. I just feel like a middleman.


This is one in a series of publications on drugs, behavior, and health by Do It Now Foundation.
Please call or write for a complete list of available titles, or check us out online at
www.doitnow.org.

 

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