Be Nobody (21 page)

 Understanding: “It's never in my self-interest to give in to such destructive emotions.”

 De-identification: “This affliction is
not me
.”

 Determination: “I will combat this feeling with all my might!”

All of these methods involve turning inward. We introspectively identify and combat the negative feelings within ourselves as part of the project of self-improvement. The Rage in the Cage occurs within ourselves. But we also realize that, by changing ourselves through this kind of self-mastery, we will alter our perceptions of the people and situations that once evoked such destructive sentiments in us. We purify the subjective filter through which we perceive external things and beings and thereby clean our karma:

Change you, change the world.

But as we've seen, there is a second method for transformation that stems from the theory of relativity and interdependence. Instead of focusing within, we turn our attention outward. If we can learn to perceive the things, events, and especially the other people in our world as beneficial instead of problematic, as targets of our positive feelings rather than our negative ones, we'll automatically gain a happier sense of self:

Change the world, change you.

And there is one powerful emotion, one virtuous state of mind, that we can direct outwardly in order to transform our perception of other people and thus our relationships with them.

There's an old song made famous by Dean Martin, “You're Nobody 'til Somebody Loves You”:

You're nobody 'til somebody loves you

You're nobody 'til somebody cares.
⁵

Dino croons on about how you might “be king” or possess all the riches of the world, maybe even the world itself, but no amount of riches can bring you true, lasting happiness. These lyrics convey a certain truth about the most important source of our self-esteem and self-worth. It's not our wealth, possessions, or professional achievements that now or in the end, when you're growing old, are of the greatest importance. We are indeed nothing without the meaningful, loving relationships we establish and maintain with others.

When my dad was a resident in an assisted-living facility (what used to be known as the “old folks' home”), I would travel to visit him once or twice a year. It was not much of a sacrifice for me—a couple days out of my life—but it was a big deal for him. He would parade me around, introducing me to his friends at the facility, showing me off—not so much for how special I supposedly was, but for the very fact that I was there at all, that I had come to visit him.

In conversations with my father and other elderly people at the old folks' home, I learned that what really mattered to them was not their former professions (no one spoke much about what or who they “used to be”) or the possessions they had once acquired (now, for the most part, gone) or the exotic holidays they once enjoyed (just fading memories and tattered photographs).

None of this was that important to them anymore—and none of it will be important to any of us if we're lucky enough to grow old before we die.

What mattered to the elderly was who loved them. What was of greatest import was who cared about them enough to come visit, to spend a few hours of their lives with those who had been stripped of the more tenuous ego props we often rely on to feel like we're really somebody.

And, of course, the old folks also talked a great deal not only about who loved them, but about those they loved. When the “somebody self” has been reduced to being just another inhabitant in a retirement facility, much of life is lived vicariously. The activities of the children and grandchildren, the nieces and nephews, take on greater significance. The focus in such a situation, almost by necessity, tends to turn away from the self and toward others.

It's like that, too, in times of crisis. When the chips are really down, we humans often rise to the occasion, break out of our self-imposed egoistic confines and instead think about how we can help
those in need. There are, unfortunately, countless examples of such terrible times. The great tragedy of 9/11 brought out the best in many New Yorkers, who selflessly aided and supported each other in the darkest of times. And there have regrettably been more recent and continuing incidents where a disaster elicits heroic responses of self-sacrifice and concern for others.

But it's not necessary to wait until old age or a crisis situation to exercise our greatest instinctual drive—to love and care for someone other than ourselves.

•  •  •

“You're nobody 'til somebody loves you,” as the song title states, but the lyrics continue to take things in a different direction:

You're nobody 'til somebody loves you,

So find yourself somebody to love.
⁶

The orientation shifts here. Instead of focusing on receiving love, we are advised to give it. “Find somebody to love”—a recommendation put into our pop-cultural consciousness not just by Dean Martin, but also in tunes by Jefferson Airplane (“Wouldn't you love somebody to love? You better find somebody to love”) and Queen (“Can anybody find me somebody to love?”), among many, many others.

Instead of dwelling on ourselves and our own need for love, we think of others and how we can love them.
Change the world
—through the power of love for someone else—and you will
change you
.

•  •  •

The centrality of love is reflected in the fact that our popular culture continually shapes and gives expression to our deep need for it. From television shows and movies to Hallmark greeting cards, from the novels we read to the music we listen to, the theme of love recurs over and over again.

But the message we receive—and often resonate with—is not always helpful for a proper understanding of this all-important human emotion.

In preparation for remarks I was to give as the officiant at a wedding, I did some research and found a database that had compiled a comprehensive list of popular song titles. When I searched for those whose messages might be relevant for a couple that was getting married, I found that many of our so-called love songs conveyed a rather screwy idea of what love is.

I found out that 191 songs have in their title the phrase “you belong to me,” and lots of others have variants on this theme:

“You Belong Here”

“You Belong Here with Me”

“You Belong in My Arms”

“You Belong inside My Heart”

“You Belong to Only Me”

There is one song with the title that really cuts to the chase: “I Own You.” There are two, according to the database, with the title “You Own Me.”

Two songs are entitled “I'm Your Woman.”

Five claim “You're My Woman.”

Six are called “You're My Man,” while forty-five say “I'm Your Man.”

And no less than 137 songs have titles that begin with the words “you're mine”:

“You're Mine, I'm Yours”

“You're Mine, Heart and Soul”

“You're Mine Alone”

“You're Mine Tonight”

“You're Mine Forever”

“You're Mine Only”

“You're Still Mine”

And on it goes, the epitome of the genre being “You're Mine, Mine, Mine.”

Real love is not about owning or possessing another. And love is also not about coercion, about “making” someone love you. Again, our popular so-called love songs reinforce this mistaken idea. Tunes with titles like “I'm Gonna Make You Love Me” or “What Do I Have to Do to Make You Love Me?” create the idea that we can somehow compel another's love for us.

Or, much more often, we believe that the other can or should “make us” something or another, that our emotional life is putty in the hands of others. Sixty-seven songs begin with the phrase “you make me”:

“You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman”

“You Make Me Feel Like a Man”

“You Make Me Want to Be a Mother”

“You Make Me Feel Like Dancing”

“You Make Me Feel So Young”

“You Make Me Feel Brand New”

And, interestingly, “You Make Me Real.”

Consider this title, a combination of both of the erroneous ideas about love—as ownership and as compulsion: “You Make Me Want to Make You Mine.”

We are especially encouraged to think that a loved one has the power, and therefore also the obligation, to “make us happy”—a message famously conveyed in the Blood, Sweat & Tears song “You've Made Me So Very Happy.”

If we believe that others have it within their power to “make us happy,” then soon enough we will also believe that they are capable of “making us unhappy.” Instead of taking responsibility for our own happiness and unhappiness, we cede it to others. We saddle them with a task they cannot perform (“you make me so very happy”) and
blame them for what they do not in fact have the ability to do (“you make me so very unhappy”).

True love—whether it is romantic, fraternal, parental, filial, or whatever—is neither about “owning” another person nor about what the other can or should do for you. Rather, it is about what you can or should do for another.

Real love is about giving, not taking. It is the cessation of the “me” orientation and the generation of a selfless concern for another's happiness and well-being.

•  •  •

The mental afflictions we've been discussing can all be viewed as self-centered perversions of love. Anger (“You're not loveable at all!”), lust (“I love you so much, I must have you to love me!”), jealousy (“You love somebody else and not me!”), envy (“You have something I don't that makes others love you more than me!”), pride (“I am so very, very loveable, don't you think?”)—we can view the whole list of negative emotions in terms of our egotistical demands that
others should love u
s.

While we all want to be loved in order to feel like a real somebody, we also need to love in order to be loved—and to do the latter, we must exercise self-forgetting. For it is when we suspend our self-centeredness and give ourselves over to others that we tap into the real power of love, the Higher Power, the god (or God) that is love.

The love
of
another is gratifying and helps us feel like a better somebody; but it is the love
for
another, premised on self-abnegation, that gives us a glimpse of our true nature and the real strength and bliss that come from
being nobody
.

You're nobody 'til somebody loves you, so you'd better find somebody to love. And when you do,
you will truly love not
as a
somebody
but as a
nobody. As Bhagwan Rajneesh (aka Osho) remarked, “When you love a person, you have to become a no-self.”
⁷