Bardo

To see death, then, through realized eyes, is to see death in the context of this wholeness, and as part, and only part, of this beginningless and endless movement. The uniqueness and power of the bardo teachings is that they reveal to us, by showing with total clarity the actual process of death, the actual process of life as well.

Let us look now again at what happens to a person who dies, at each of the three crucial stages of death:

1. At the culmination of the process of dying, after the dissolution of elements, senses, and thought states, the ultimate nature of mind, the Ground Luminosity, is for a moment laid bare.

2. Then, fleetingly, the radiance of that nature of mind is displayed and shines out in appearances of sound, colors, and light.

3. Next the dead person's consciousness awakens and enters into the bardo of becoming; his or her ordinary mind returns, and takes on a manifestation—the form of the mental body—subject to the dictates of past karma and habits. These drive the ordinary mind to cling onto the illusory bardo experiences as something real and solid. So what do the bardo teachings show us that death is? Nothing less than three phases of a process of gradual manifestation of mind: from out of its very purest state of the essential nature of mind, through light and energy (the radiance of the nature of mind), and into increasing crystallization into a mental form. What unravels with such clarity in the bardo of dying, the bardo of dharmata, and the bardo of becoming, the teachings show us, is a threefold process: first, enfoldment leading to laying bare; second, spontaneous radiance; and third, crystallization and manifestation. The teachings draw us to go further. What they in fact show us—and I think this is a truly revolutionary insight, one that, when it is understood, changes our view of everything— is that this threefold pattern does not only unfold in the process of dying and death: It is unfolding now, at this moment, at every moment, within our mind, in our thoughts and emotions, and at every single level of our conscious experience. Another way the teachings offer us of understanding this process is by looking at what is revealed at each phase of dying and death. The teachings speak of three levels of being, to which the Sanskrit name kaya is given. This word kaya literally means "body," but signifies here dimension, field, or basis. So let us look now at the threefold process from this perspective:

1. The absolute nature, uncovered at the moment of death in the Ground Luminosity, is called the Dharmakaya, the dimension of "empty," unconditioned truth, into which illusion and ignorance, and any kind of concept, have never entered.

2. The intrinsic radiance of energy and light that is spontaneously displayed in the bardo of dharmata is called Sambhogakaya, the dimension of complete enjoyment, the field of total plenitude, of full richness, beyond all dualistic limitations, beyond space or time.

3. The sphere of crystallization into form revealed in the bardo of becoming is called Nirmanakaya, the dimension of ceaseless manifestation.

The three kayas, then, refer to these three intrinsic aspects of our enlightened mind; they also, of course, refer to different capacities of our perception. The vast majority of us are limited in our vision, and only perceive the Nirmanakaya dimension of form and manifestation. This is the reason that for most of us the moment of death is a blank and a state of oblivion, for we have neither encountered nor evolved any way of recognizing the Dharmakaya reality when it arises as the Ground Luminosity. Nor do we have any hope of recognizing the Sambhogakaya fields as they appear in the bardo of dharmata. Because our entire life has been lived out within the realm of the impure perceptions of the Nirmanakaya manifestation, so at the moment of death we are transported directly back into that dimension; we awaken, frantic and distracted, in the bardo of becoming in the mental body, taking illusory experiences for solid and real just as we have in lives before, and stumbling helplessly, propelled by past karma, toward rebirth.

Highly realized beings, however, have awakened in themselves a perception completely different from our own, one that is purified, evolved, and refined to such an extent that, while they still dwell in a human body, they actually perceive reality in a totally purified form, transparent to them in all its limitless dimension. And for them, as we have seen, the experience of death holds no fear or surprises; it is embraced, in fact, as an opportunity for final liberation.

THE REVELATION OF THE BARDOS

Let us look now again at what happens to a person who dies, at each of the three crucial stages of death:

1. At the culmination of the process of dying, after the dissolution of elements, senses, and thought states, the ultimate nature of mind, the Ground Luminosity, is for a moment laid bare.

2. Then, fleetingly, the radiance of that nature of mind is displayed and shines out in appearances of sound, colors, and light.

3. The sphere of crystallization into form revealed in the bardo of becoming is called Nirmanakaya, the dimension of ceaseless manifestation.

Remember now that when we looked at the nature of mind, we saw that it had these three same aspects: its empty, skylike essence, its radiant luminous nature, and its unobstructed, all-pervasive, compassionate energy, which are all simultaneously present and interpenetrating as one within the Rigpa. Padmasambhava describes this in the following way: Within this Rigpa, the three kayas are inseparable and fully present as one: Since it is empty and not created anywhere whatsoever, it is the Dharmakaya, Since its luminous clarity represents the inherent transparent radiance of emptiness, it is the Sambhogakaya. Since its arising is nowhere obstructed or interrupted, it is the Nirmanakaya. These three being complete and fully present as one, are its very essence} The three kayas, then, refer to these three intrinsic aspects of our enlightened mind; they also, of course, refer to different capacities of our perception. The vast majority of us are limited in our vision, and only perceive the Nirmanakaya dimension of form and manifestation. This is the reason that for most of us the moment of death is a blank and a state of oblivion, for we have neither encountered nor evolved any way of recognizing the Dharmakaya reality when it arises as the Ground Luminosity. Nor do we have any hope of recognizing the Sambhogakaya fields as they appear in the bardo of dharmata. Because our entire life has been lived out within the realm of the impure perceptions of the Nirmanakaya manifestation, so at the moment of death we are transported directly back into that dimension; we awaken, frantic and distracted, in the bardo of becoming in the mental body, taking illusory experiences for solid and real just as we have in lives before, and stumbling helplessly, propelled by past karma, toward rebirth.

THE PROCESS IN SLEEP

The three phases of the process we see unfolding in the bardo states in death can be perceived in other levels of consciousness in life also. Consider them in the light of what occurs in sleep and dream:

1. When we fall asleep, the senses and grosser layers of consciousness dissolve, and gradually the absolute nature of mind, we could say the Ground Luminosity, is briefly laid bare.

2. Next there is a dimension of consciousness, comparable to the bardo of dharmata, that is so subtle that we are normally completely unaware of its very existence. How many of us, after all, are aware of the moment of sleep before dreams begin?

3. For most of us, all that we are aware of is the next stage, when the mind becomes yet again active, and we find ourselves in a dream-world similar to the bardo of becoming. Here we take on a dream-body and go through different dream-experiences to a great extent influenced and shaped by the habits and activities of our waking state, all of which we believe to be solid and real, without ever realizing that we are dreaming.

THE PROCESS IN THOUGHTS AND EMOTIONS

Exactly the same process can be recognized in the workings of thoughts and emotions, and the manner in which they arise:

1. The Ground Luminosity, the absolute nature of mind, is the primordial state of Rigpa that exists before any thought or emotion.

2. Within its unconditioned space, a fundamental energy stirs, the spontaneous radiance of Rigpa, which begins to arise as the basis, the potential, and the fuel for raw emotion. 3. This energy can then take on the forms of emotions and thoughts, which eventually propel us into action and cause us to accumulate karma.

It is when we become intimately familiar with meditation practice that we can see this process with unmistakable clarity:

1. As thoughts and emotions gradually fall silent, and die away and dissolve into the nature of mind, we may momentarily glimpse the nature of mind, the Rigpa itself: the primordial state.

2. Then we become aware that out of the stillness and calm of the nature of mind unfolds a movement and raw energy, its very self-radiance.

3. If any grasping enters into the rising of that energy, the energy inevitably crystallizes into thought forms, which in turn will carry us back into conceptual and mental activity.

THE PROCESS IN EVERYDAY LIFE

This is best done by looking closely at one movement of joy or anger. Examine that movement and you will see that there exists always a space or gap before any emotion begins to arise. That pregnant moment before the energy of emotion has a chance to arise is a moment of pure, pristine awareness, in which we could, if we let ourselves, have a glimpse of the true nature of mind. For an instant the spell of ignorance is broken; we are totally freed from any need or possibility of grasping, and even the notion of "clinging" is made ridiculous and redundant. However, instead of embracing the "emptiness" of that gap, in which we could find the bliss of being free from and unburdened by any idea, reference, or concept, we grasp at the dubious security of the familiar, comforting drama of our emotions, driven by our deep habitual tendencies. And this is how an inherently unconditioned energy arising from the nature of mind is crystallized into the form of an emotion, and how its fundamental purity is then colored and distorted by our samsaric vision to provide a continuous source of everyday distractions and delusions. If we really examine every aspect of our life, as I have shown, we will discover how we go through, again and again, in sleep and dream, in thoughts and emotions, that same process of the bardos. And the teachings reveal to us that it is precisely this fact—that we go through the process of the bardos again and again, in both life and death, and at all the different levels of consciousness—that gives us innumerable opportunities, now and also in death, for liberation. The teachings show us that it is the character, form, and uniqueness of the process that offer us either the chance for liberation or the potential for continuing in confusion. For every aspect of the whole process hands us at the same time the chance for liberation, or the chance for confusion.

The bardo teachings are opening a door to us, showing us how we can step out of the uncontrolled cycle of death and rebirth, the repetitive treadmill of ignorance, life after life. They are telling us that throughout this process of the bardos of life and death, whenever we can recognize and maintain a stable awareness of the nature of mind, Rigpa, or even when we can gain some measure of control over our mind, we can walk through that door toward liberation. Depending on the phase of the bardos it is applied in, depending on your familiarity with the View of the nature of mind itself, and depending on the depth of your understanding of your mind, its thoughts and emotions, this recognition will be different.

What the bardo teachings are also telling us, however, is that what happens in our mind now in life is exactly what will occur in the bardo states at death, since essentially there is no difference; life and death are one in "unbroken wholeness" and "flowing movement." This is why one of the most accomplished Tibetan masters of the seventeenth century, Tsele Natsok Rangdrol, explains the heart practices for each of the bardos—this life, dying, dharmata, and becoming—in terms of the state of our present understanding of the nature of thoughts and emotions, and of mind and its perceptions:

This is the heart of the practice for the bardo of this life. You are bound to die soon, and nothing then will be of any real help.

What you experience in death is only your own conceptual thinking.

Without fabricating any thoughts, let them all die into the vast expanse of your Rigpa's self-awareness: This is the heart of the practice for the bardo of dying. Whatever grasps at appearance or disappearance, as being good or bad, is your mind.

And this mind itself is the self-radiance of the Dharmakaya, just whatever arises.

Not to cling to the risings, make concepts out of them, accept or reject them:

This is the heart of the practice for the bardo of dharmata. Samsara is your mind, and nirvana is also your mind, All pleasure and pain, and all delusions exist nowhere apart from your mind.

To attain control over your own mind; This is the heart of the practice for the bardo of becoming. We are now ready to look at one particular bardo, to see how our meditation practice, our understanding of emotions and thoughts, and our experiences in that bardo are all inextricably interlinked, and how our experiences in that bardo reflect back into our ordinary life. Perhaps the most helpful bardo to study is the bardo of dharmata, which is where the pure energy that will become emotion begins to emerge spontaneously as the intrinsic radiance of the nature of mind; and emotions, I know, are a main, almost obsessive preoccupation of people in the modem world. Truly to understand the nature of emotion is to advance very far on the path to liberation. The deepest aim of meditation is to be able to rest, undistracted, in the state of Rigpa, and with that View to realize that whatever arises in the mind is never anything but the display of your own Rigpa, just as the sun and its million rays are one and indivisible. As Tsele Natsok Rangdrol says in his verse for the bardo of dharmata: "Whatever grasps at appearance or disappearance, as being good or bad, is your mind. And this mind itself is the self-radiance of the Dharmakaya ... " So when you are in the state of Rigpa, and when thoughts and emotions arise, you recognize exactly what they are and where they are springing from: then whatever arises becomes the self-radiance of that wisdom. If you lose the presence of that pristine, pure awareness of Rigpa, however, and you fail to recognize whatever arises, then it will become separate from you. It goes on to form what we call "thought," or an emotion, and this is the creation of duality. To avoid this and its consequences is why Tsele Natsok Rangdrol says: "Not to cling to the risings, make concepts out of them, accept or reject them: this is the heart of the practice for the bardo of dharmata."

That separateness, between you and the risings in your mind, and the duality it engenders, become spectacularly magnified after death. This explains how, without that essence of recognition of the true nature of the arisings within the mind, in the bardo of dharmata the sounds, lights, and rays that manifest can take on the objective reality of shocking, external phenomena that are happening to you. So what could you possibly do in such a situation but flee from the brilliant radiance of the peaceful and wrathful deities, and run to the dim, seductive, habitual lights of the six realms? The crucial recognition, then, in the bardo of dharmata is that it is the wisdom energy of your mind that is dawning: The buddhas and the lights of wisdom are in no sense separate from you, but your own wisdom energy. To realize that is an experience of nonduality, and to enter into it is liberation. What is occurring in the bardo of dharmata at death, and whenever an emotion begins to arise in our minds in life, is the same natural process. What is at question is whether or not we recognize the true nature of the arising. If we can recognize the arising of an emotion for what it really is, the spontaneous energy of the nature of our own mind, then we are empowered to free ourselves from the negative effects or possible dangers of that emotion, and let it dissolve back into the primordial purity of the vast expanse of Rigpa. This recognition, and the freedom it brings, can only be the fruit of many, many years of the most disciplined practice of meditation, for it requires a long familiarity with and stabiliza- tion of Rigpa, the nature of mind. Nothing less will bring us that calm and blissful freedom from our own habitual tendencies and conflicting emotions that we all long for. The teachings may tell us that this freedom is hard to win, but the fact that this possibility really exists is a tremendous source of hope and inspiration. There is a way to understand thought and emotion, mind and its nature, life and death completely, and that is to achieve realization. The enlightened ones, as I have said, see life and death as if in the palm of their hand, because they know, as Tsele Natsok Rangdrol wrote: "Samsara is your mind, and nirvana is also your mind; all pleasure and pain, and all delusions exist nowhere apart from your mind." And this clear knowledge, stabilized through long practice and integrated with every movement, every thought, every emotion of their relative reality, has made them free. Dudjom Rinpoche said: "Having purified the great delusion, the heart's darkness, the radiant light of the unobscured sun continuously rises."

THE REVELATION OF THE BARDOS

Let us look now again at what happens to a person who dies, at each of the three crucial stages of death:

1. At the culmination of the process of dying, after the dissolution of elements, senses, and thought states, the ultimate nature of mind, the Ground Luminosity, is for a moment laid bare.

2. Then, fleetingly, the radiance of that nature of mind is displayed and shines out in appearances of sound, colors, and light.

3. The sphere of crystallization into form revealed in the bardo of becoming is called Nirmanakaya, the dimension of ceaseless manifestation.

Remember now that when we looked at the nature of mind, we saw that it had these three same aspects: its empty, skylike essence, its radiant luminous nature, and its unobstructed, all-pervasive, compassionate energy, which are all simultaneously present and interpenetrating as one within the Rigpa. Padmasambhava describes this in the following way: Within this Rigpa, the three kayas are inseparable and fully present as one: Since it is empty and not created anywhere whatsoever, it is the Dharmakaya, Since its luminous clarity represents the inherent transparent radiance of emptiness, it is the Sambhogakaya. Since its arising is nowhere obstructed or interrupted, it is the Nirmanakaya. These three being complete and fully present as one, are its very essence} The three kayas, then, refer to these three intrinsic aspects of our enlightened mind; they also, of course, refer to different capacities of our perception. The vast majority of us are limited in our vision, and only perceive the Nirmanakaya dimension of form and manifestation. This is the reason that for most of us the moment of death is a blank and a state of oblivion, for we have neither encountered nor evolved any way of recognizing the Dharmakaya reality when it arises as the Ground Luminosity. Nor do we have any hope of recognizing the Sambhogakaya fields as they appear in the bardo of dharmata. Because our entire life has been lived out within the realm of the impure perceptions of the Nirmanakaya manifestation, so at the moment of death we are transported directly 348 THE TIBETAN BOOK OF LIVING AND DYING back into that dimension; we awaken, frantic and distracted, in the bardo of becoming in the mental body, taking illusory experiences for solid and real just as we have in lives before, and stumbling helplessly, propelled by past karma, toward rebirth.

THE PROCESS IN SLEEP

1. When we fall asleep, the senses and grosser layers of consciousness dissolve, and gradually the absolute nature of mind, we could say the Ground Luminosity, is briefly laid bare.

3. For most of us, all that we are aware of is the next stage, when the mind becomes yet again active, and we find ourselves in a dream-world similar to the bardo of becoming.

Here we take on a dream-body and go through different dream-experiences to a great extent influenced and shaped by the habits and activities of our waking state, all of which we believe to be solid and real, without ever realizing that we are dreaming.

THE PROCESS IN THOUGHTS AND EMOTIONS

Exactly the same process can be recognized in the workings of thoughts and emotions, and the manner in which they arise:

1. The Ground Luminosity, the absolute nature of mind, is the primordial state of Rigpa that exists before any thought or emotion.

2. Within its unconditioned space, a fundamental energy stirs, the spontaneous radiance of Rigpa, which begins to arise as the basis, the potential, and the fuel for raw emotion.

3. This energy can then take on the forms of emotions and thoughts, which eventually propel us into action and cause us to accumulate karma.

It is when we become intimately familiar with meditation practice that we can see this process with unmistakable clarity:

1. As thoughts and emotions gradually fall silent, and die away and dissolve into the nature of mind, we may momentarily glimpse the nature of mind, the Rigpa itself: the primordial state.

2. Then we become aware that out of the stillness and calm of the nature of mind unfolds a movement and raw energy, its very self-radiance.

3. If any grasping enters into the rising of that energy, the energy inevitably crystallizes into thought forms, which in turn will carry us back into conceptual and mental activity.

THE PROCESS IN EVERYDAY LIFE

Now that we have looked at the way this process reproduces itself in sleep and dream, and the very formation of thought and emotion, let us see it at work in our day-to-day experience of our everyday life. This is best done by looking closely at one movement of joy or anger. Examine that movement and you will see that there exists always a space or gap before any emotion begins to arise. That pregnant moment before the energy of emotion has a chance to arise is a moment of pure, pristine awareness, in which we could, if we let ourselves, have a glimpse of the true nature of mind. For an instant the spell of ignorance is broken; we are totally freed from any need or possibility of grasping, and even the notion of "clinging" is made ridiculous and redundant. However, instead of embracing the "emptiness" of that gap, in which we could find the bliss of being free from and unburdened by any idea, reference, or concept, we grasp at the dubious security of the familiar, comforting drama of our emotions, driven by our deep habitual tendencies. And this is how an inherently unconditioned energy arising from the nature of mind is crystallized into the form of an emotion, and how its fundamental purity is then colored and distorted by our samsaric vision to provide a continuous source of everyday distractions and delusions.

If we really examine every aspect of our life, as I have shown, we will discover how we go through, again and again, in sleep and dream, in thoughts and emotions, that same process of the bardos. And the teachings reveal to us that it is precisely this fact—that we go through the process of the bardos again and again, in both life and death, and at all the different levels of consciousness—that gives us innumerable opportunities, now and also in death, for liberation. The teachings show us that it is the character, form, and uniqueness of the process that offer us either the chance for liberation or the potential for continuing in confusion. For every aspect of the whole process hands us at the same time the chance for liberation, or the chance for confusion.

Recognize this infinite variety of appearances as a dream, As nothing but the projections of your mind, illusory and unreal. Without grasping at anything, rest in the wisdom of your Rigpa, that transcends all concepts: This is the heart of the practice for the bardo of this life. You are bound to die soon, and nothing then will be of any real help. What you experience in death is only your own conceptual thinking. Without fabricating any thoughts, let them all die into the vast expanse of your Rigpa's self-awareness: This is the heart of the practice for the bardo of dying. Whatever grasps at appearance or disappearance, as being good or bad, is your mind. And this mind itself is the self-radiance of the Dharmakaya, just whatever arises. Not to cling to the risings, make concepts out of them, accept or reject them: This is the heart of the practice for the bardo of dharmata. Samsara is your mind, and nirvana is also your mind, All pleasure and pain, and all delusions exist nowhere apart from your mind. To attain control over your own mind; This is the heart of the practice for the bardo of becoming. We are now ready to look at one particular bardo, to see how our meditation practice, our understanding of emotions and thoughts, and our experiences in that bardo are all inextricably interlinked, and how our experiences in that bardo reflect back into our ordinary life. Perhaps the most helpful bardo to study is the bardo of dharmata, which is where the pure energy that will become emotion begins to emerge spontaneously as the intrinsic radiance of the nature of mind; and emotions, I know, are a main, almost obsessive preoccupation of people in the modem world. Truly to understand the nature of emotion is to advance very far on the path to liberation. The deepest aim of meditation is to be able to rest, undistracted, in the state of Rigpa, and with that View to realize that whatever arises in the mind is never anything but the display of your own Rigpa, just as the sun and its million rays are one and indivisible. As Tsele Natsok Rangdrol says in his verse for the bardo of dharmata: "Whatever grasps at appearance or disappearance, as being good or bad, is your mind. And this mind itself is the self-radiance of the Dharmakaya ... " So when you are in the state of Rigpa, and when thoughts and emotions arise, you recognize exactly what they are and where they are springing from: then whatever arises becomes the self-radiance of that wisdom. If you lose the presence of that pristine, pure awareness of Rigpa, however, and you fail to recognize whatever arises, then it will become separate from you. It goes on to form what we call "thought," or an emotion, and this is the creation of duality. To avoid this and its consequences is why Tsele Natsok Rangdrol says: "Not to cling to the risings, make concepts out of them, accept or reject them: this is the heart of the practice for the bardo of dharmata."