Be Here Now

In the winter of 1967, a Harvard psychology professor named Richard Alpert found himself standing at the edge of a profound personal crisis. Despite achieving everything that Western success promised—prestigious academic positions, research grants, material wealth, and social status—he felt an inexplicable emptiness that no amount of achievement could fill. His colleagues respected him, his lectures drew crowds, yet something fundamental was missing. This restless dissatisfaction would soon propel him on a journey that would not only transform his own life but touch millions of souls around the world.

What began as a desperate search for meaning in the foothills of the Himalayas became one of the most remarkable spiritual transformations of the modern era. Through his encounter with an extraordinary teacher and his subsequent immersion in Eastern philosophy, Alpert would shed his Western identity like an old coat, emerging as Ram Dass, a bridge between ancient wisdom and contemporary seeking. His journey reveals the universal human longing for authentic connection, the courage required to abandon everything familiar, and the profound joy that awaits those who dare to open their hearts completely. In following his path, we discover not just one man's awakening, but a roadmap for anyone seeking to move beyond the limitations of ego toward the expansive love that lies at the heart of existence.

By 1961, Richard Alpert had reached the pinnacle of academic achievement. At Harvard University, he held appointments in four different departments, commanded impressive research contracts with Yale and Stanford, and enjoyed the comfortable lifestyle that such success afforded. His Cambridge apartment was filled with carefully chosen antiques, and his garage housed a Mercedes-Benz, a Triumph motorcycle, a Cessna airplane, and an MG sports car. By every external measure, he was living the American dream of intellectual and material success.

Yet beneath this polished exterior lay a profound dissatisfaction that no amount of achievement could remedy. Despite his impressive credentials and the respect of his peers, Alpert felt like an impostor playing an elaborate game. His lectures, though well-received, were merely sophisticated presentations of other people's ideas. His research followed predictable academic trends rather than genuine inquiry. Even after investing five years and $26,000 in psychoanalysis, he remained, by his own therapist's admission, fundamentally unchanged and "too sick to leave analysis."

The hollowness of his professional life became increasingly apparent as he observed his colleagues. These were supposedly the brightest minds in psychology, yet their personal lives seemed no more fulfilled than those of their students. They approached human consciousness like mechanics working on engines, applying theories that felt disconnected from the messy reality of actual human experience. The gap between psychological theory and genuine wisdom grew more obvious each day, leaving Alpert questioning whether all his knowledge amounted to anything more than intellectual gymnastics.

What troubled him most was the growing awareness that he was trapped in a meaningless performance. Students dutifully wrote down his words and regurgitated them on exams, but nothing transformative was happening. The entire academic enterprise felt like an elaborate charade where everyone played their assigned roles without ever touching something real. As he later reflected, he was "getting very good at bouncing three knowledge balls at once" but moving further away from any genuine understanding of life's deeper mysteries.

This period of mounting existential crisis, while painful, was preparing Alpert for the radical transformation that lay ahead. The very depth of his dissatisfaction with conventional success would soon make him receptive to possibilities that his rational mind had never considered, setting the stage for a journey that would lead him far from the familiar corridors of Harvard into realms of consciousness that Western psychology had barely begun to acknowledge.

On March 6th, a snowy evening in Newton, Massachusetts, Richard Alpert's understanding of reality underwent a seismic shift when he took his first dose of psilocybin. Sitting around Timothy Leary's kitchen table with a small group of researchers, he embarked on what would prove to be the most significant psychological experiment of his life. What began as scientific curiosity quickly became a profound encounter with dimensions of consciousness that his Harvard training had never suggested existed.

As the psilocybin took effect, Alpert experienced something unprecedented: the systematic dissolution of everything he had considered to be his identity. First, his professional persona as a Harvard professor separated from him, standing apart like a discarded costume. Then, one by one, all his familiar roles—the sophisticated socialite, the accomplished pilot, the skilled lover—peeled away like layers of an onion. Even his most fundamental identity as "Richard Alpert" began to dissolve, leaving him in a state of mounting panic as his body itself seemed to disappear from view.

At the moment of greatest terror, when everything he had ever identified with had vanished, a quiet inner voice asked the crucial question: "But who's minding the store?" This simple inquiry revealed the presence of a witnessing awareness that remained constant even as every aspect of his personality and physical form disappeared. For the first time, Alpert encountered what he would later understand as pure consciousness—that which observes all experience but is itself beyond the reach of change or destruction.

This glimpse of his essential nature transformed his understanding of human possibility. The experience revealed that consciousness was not produced by the brain, as his scientific training had taught him, but was rather a fundamental aspect of reality itself. The profound peace and knowing that accompanied this recognition suggested that what he had been seeking through years of analysis and academic achievement was not something to be acquired from outside, but rather his own deepest nature waiting to be uncovered.

Over the following years, Alpert would conduct hundreds of experiments with various psychedelic substances, always seeking to stabilize and understand these extraordinary states of consciousness. Yet despite the power and beauty of these experiences, they inevitably faded, leaving him with tantalizing memories of a realm that seemed more real than ordinary reality. This persistent "coming down" would eventually drive him to seek teachers who had achieved these states of consciousness through methods that produced permanent transformation rather than temporary glimpses of the infinite.

By 1967, disillusioned with the temporary nature of psychedelic experiences, Alpert found himself in India, desperately searching for someone who might understand the states of consciousness he had glimpsed. After months of fruitless seeking, he encountered a tall, blonde American named Bhagavan Dass in a restaurant in Kathmandu. There was something unmistakably solid and centered about this young man that captured Alpert's attention immediately. Unlike so many others he had met on his journey, Bhagavan Dass radiated a quality of presence that suggested he had found what Alpert was seeking.

Following Bhagavan Dass into the Indian hills transformed Alpert's understanding of spiritual practice. Gone were the comfortable hotels and first-class travel; instead, he found himself sleeping on wooden temple floors, walking barefoot on rocky paths, and eating simple food prepared with mantras and love. More challenging still was Bhagavan Dass's gentle but firm instruction to abandon his habitual patterns of thinking about past and future: "Don't think about the past. Just be here now. Don't think about the future. Just be here now."

The moment that would change everything came when Bhagavan Dass led him to meet his guru, a small, blanket-wrapped man sitting on a wooden platform in the foothills of the Himalayas. This seemingly ordinary old man, known as Neem Karoli Baba or Maharaj-ji, demonstrated an impossible knowledge of Alpert's most private thoughts and experiences. With casual precision, he recounted Alpert's intimate reflections about his recently deceased mother, including details about her death from spleen disease that no one else could have known.

The rational mind that had served Alpert so well throughout his academic career simply collapsed under the weight of this impossible knowing. Every explanation he attempted to construct crumbled before the obvious reality of what was happening. As his mind gave up its desperate attempt to maintain control, something far more profound occurred: his heart opened completely. In Maharaj-ji's eyes, he saw a love so unconditional and accepting that it dissolved decades of shame and self-judgment in a single moment.

This encounter revealed the fundamental truth that would guide the rest of his spiritual journey: that love, not knowledge, is the key to transformation. In Maharaj-ji's presence, Alpert experienced himself as a pure soul, beyond all the stories and limitations he had carried for so long. The old identity as Dr. Richard Alpert was not destroyed but rather revealed to be just one costume among many, while his true nature as love itself stood revealed. This recognition would gradually transform every aspect of his being, eventually leading to his rebirth as Ram Dass, a servant of the same love that had so completely transformed him.

When Alpert returned to America in 1969, he carried within him a revolutionary message that challenged everything his former colleagues understood about human potential and spiritual development. No longer the anxious, driven professor who had left for India, he had become Ram Dass, meaning "servant of God," embodying a radically different approach to consciousness and meaning. His transformation was immediately apparent to anyone who encountered him, yet translating his experience into language that Western minds could comprehend proved to be an extraordinary challenge.

The book "Be Here Now" emerged as his attempt to share not just the story of his transformation but practical methods for others to embark on their own journey of awakening. Written in an innovative format that combined narrative, poetry, and spiritual instruction, the book became an unexpected phenomenon, speaking to a generation hungry for authentic spiritual experience. Its central message was deceptively simple: that happiness and fulfillment are not found in past memories or future plans but in complete presence to the current moment.

Ram Dass's teaching style reflected his understanding that transformation happens through being rather than doing. Rather than offering complex theories or elaborate practices, he focused on the fundamental shift from identifying with the thinking mind to recognizing oneself as the loving awareness that witnesses all experience. His lectures became gatherings where people could feel this quality of presence directly, often finding their own hearts opening simply through being in his company.

The depth of his commitment to serving others became evident in his willingness to share the most vulnerable aspects of his journey. He spoke openly about his struggles with ego, his fears, and his ongoing process of learning to embody the love he had glimpsed in India. This honesty created a bridge that allowed thousands of people to recognize their own spiritual seeking and to begin their own experiments with presence and awareness.

Perhaps most importantly, Ram Dass introduced Western seekers to the possibility of finding a living relationship with wisdom and love that transcended cultural and religious boundaries. Through his example, people could see that it was possible to maintain a deep spiritual connection while living an engaged life in the modern world. His integration of Eastern wisdom and Western psychology opened new possibilities for spiritual development that honored both the insights of ancient traditions and the realities of contemporary life.

As Ram Dass matured in his spiritual understanding, his teaching evolved from describing extraordinary states of consciousness to embodying a simple, practical approach to living in love moment by moment. His message became increasingly focused on the recognition that love is not something we need to acquire from outside ourselves but rather our fundamental nature waiting to be uncovered. This shift reflected decades of deepening practice and the gradual integration of his initial awakening into every aspect of daily life.

The practice he came to emphasize most was beautifully captured in the phrase "I am loving awareness." This simple statement pointed to a profound realization: that our essential nature is the awareness that witnesses all experience, and that this awareness is inherently loving. By learning to identify with this loving awareness rather than with the endless stream of thoughts and emotions that typically capture our attention, anyone could begin to taste the same freedom and joy that had transformed his own life.

His later years were marked by a series of challenges that deepened his embodiment of these teachings. A severe stroke in 1997 left him partially paralyzed and struggling with aphasia, forcing him to communicate in new ways and to find love and presence even in the midst of physical limitation. Rather than diminishing his spiritual work, this experience became another opportunity to demonstrate that genuine awakening transcends all conditions and circumstances.

Through his example, Ram Dass showed that the spiritual path is not about achieving some special state but about learning to find the sacred in whatever life presents. Whether dealing with the death of beloved friends, his own aging and illness, or the simple challenges of daily life, he consistently returned to the same fundamental practice: meeting each moment with as much love and awareness as possible.

His lasting contribution lies not in any complex philosophy or elaborate technique but in his demonstration that ordinary human beings can live from a place of extraordinary love. By sharing his own stumbling, sincere efforts to embody this truth, he gave countless others permission to begin their own experiments with presence, compassion, and awakening. His life became a living testament to the possibility that we can indeed transform suffering into service and separation into love.

The journey from Dr. Richard Alpert to Ram Dass illuminates a fundamental truth about human potential: that beneath our surface identities and conditioned patterns lies a vast reservoir of love and wisdom waiting to be discovered. His transformation reveals that genuine spiritual awakening is not about accumulating special experiences or achieving extraordinary states, but about learning to recognize and embody the love that is already our deepest nature. This recognition has the power to transform not only individual lives but the very fabric of how we relate to each other and to the world around us.

For anyone feeling trapped in patterns of seeking fulfillment through external achievements or struggling with a sense that something essential is missing from their life, Ram Dass's journey offers both inspiration and practical guidance. His example suggests that we might begin exactly where we are, using the simple practice of bringing loving awareness to whatever we encounter in this moment. In doing so, we open the possibility of discovering that what we have been seeking has been present all along, waiting patiently for us to come home to ourselves. This path of the heart remains available to anyone willing to take the first step into presence, regardless of their background, beliefs, or circumstances.