All you need is love?
Maybe the Beatles were right. But, I’m not here to talk about the Beatles. I want to talk about Ram Dass.
I was on a long car ride recently and, after growing bored with music and podcasts, I turned to an old standby: Ram Dass.
For those unfamiliar, he was a well-known American spiritual teacher, psychologist, and writer. I’ve read most of his books and listened to many of his talks, yet even after three hours on the road, I didn’t tire of his voice.
Ram Dass speaks of spirituality, of life and death, but mostly of love. Returning to his work always feels like remembering—like coming back to our natural state of not just giving, but being love.
In a time of polarization, fear, and division, what better lesson is there to revisit? As a therapist, I hear stories of people’s worries and anxieties every day. More and more, I also hear the phrase: “I think I’m just feeling the collective experience of anxiety and anger.”
I understand that perspective, but I see it a little differently. These emotions aren’t always collective—they shift depending on which group’s values feel threatened. What seems “collective” often means we’re experiencing what those who share our belief systems are feeling. Some feel the wave of fear and anger; others remain more steady.
That reflection reminded me of a moment from one of Ram Dass’s talks. If you’ve ever heard him speak, you know his lightness—how he laughs at his own jokes. At one point, he said, “I speak at a lot of peace rallies and I’ve never met an angrier crowd (he chuckles at himself)… but really, if it doesn’t start here, where does it start?”
A simple, yet profound truth.
Anger by itself doesn’t change anything—it only creates internal suffering. You may have heard the saying: “Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else: you are the one who gets burned.” Anger can ignite action, but more often I see it being shared, reposted, and spread. We scream peace, but do so in anger.
Instead, I often talk with clients about our internal locus of control—the idea that while much of the world is out of our hands, our own actions, efforts, and behaviors are not. So what is within our control? Love. Compassion. Understanding. Peace.
Ram Dass often reminded us: “I’m not here to change anyone. I’m here to create an environment in which change is possible, if someone so chooses.” And how do we create that environment? By becoming what we hope to cultivate—love, peace, and understanding.
This is not about complacency or not caring. It’s not about not having opinions or standing up for your beliefs. It is about avoiding the dualism that keeps us separated, that keeps hate and division alive.
As Ram Dass put it: “People say, ‘Well, what do you do? Are you ducking social responsibility? Are you just going off into a mountain cave to meditate and say screw the rest of your fellow man?’ I say no, because preoccupation with social injustice perpetuates social injustice. All I can do is become beauty, become love, become truth, become light… Otherwise, I have nothing to offer anybody.”
That reminder stayed with me long after my drive: if I can embody love, I am already contributing to change.