Death is not extinguishing the light, it is only putting out the lamp because dawn has come. (Rabindranath Tagore)

When the last hour is at hand, you will stand at a crossroad. If you have prepared in advance, you will be ready to move on with great ease and confidence, like an eagle soaring into the sky. (Tulku Thondup Rinpoche)

If you are prepared, when death arrives simply relax. Have confidence in your preparation, and that your good karma will take care of you.

Remember that death is a natural part of life and that you’re not the only one dying. Billions of people have died throughout history, vastly more than are currently alive. Life is but a tiny speck floating on an ocean of death.

Demographer Carl Haub, using 50,000 B.C.E. as his starting point, calculated that including the seven billion people now alive, around 108 billion people have walked on this planet. That means over 100 billion people have already died.

Accounts vary, but between 156,000 and 250,000 people die each day. This doesn’t include the untold numbers of animals, insects, and unseen forms of life.

About 383,000 people are born each day (140 million per year). In addition to these numbers, there are countless beings transmigrating through the twenty-seven states of samsaric existence.

As we approach death, we are about to experience what countless beings have already experienced. Not only that, we have already experienced death countless times.

Remind yourself, “I’m not the only one traveling this road. All beings of the past have died, all those alive will die, and all who come in the future will die. No one escapes death.”

The play of birth and death is taking place at a scale we can’t even imagine. Now it’s our turn to enter this play once again.

There are three levels of practitioner for the bardos. Each one is based on proper vision and perspective.

Those of the highest level look forward to death, because they realize it is the greatest opportunity for awakening. They know they’re heading for enlightenment.

Those of the middling level have no fear, because they understand the process.

Those of the lowest level have no regrets, because they’ve lived a good life and done their best to prepare.

If we elevate and improve our vision, we can enter any of these levels and die with ease. Open your mind. Accept death as nature’s way of recycling spirit into infinite new forms.

Letting Go

The painful bardo of dying is painful because it hurts to let go. But now is the time when we have to. Letting go is just a euphemism for death, and releasing our grip is what transforms the painful bardo of dying into simply the bardo of dying.

To be like an eagle soaring into the sky, we have to cut the fetters of everything that holds us down.

Sogyal Rinpoche says:

Slowly it dawns on us that all the heartache we have been through from grasping at the ungraspable was, in the deepest sense, unnecessary. At the beginning this too may be painful to accept, because it seems so unfamiliar. But as we reflect, slowly our hearts and minds go through a gradual transformation. Letting go begins to feel more natural, and becomes easier and easier. It may take a long time for the extent of our foolishness to sink in, but the more we reflect, the more we develop the view of letting go. It is then that a complete shift takes place in our way of looking at everything. (Sogyal Rinpoche, Glimpse After Glimpse, March 29.)

In many ways, the entire spiritual path is about letting go. It’s death in slow motion. So, if we travel our path genuinely, death is but a graceful exit from a path well traveled.

We can choose to let go now and die before we die, easing our transition. Or we can wait and be forced to let go during death, which often results in a bumpy ride.

As Rinpoche says, letting go is initially unfamiliar to us, which is why it hurts. But meditation is about “becoming familiar with” letting go and therefore eases all the transitions in life—and death.

The Sixteenth Karmapa, an enlightened being, said that “nothing happens” at death. This was a cryptic statement, left open for interpretation.

One view would be that for someone who has completely let go during life, nothing happens at death because there’s nothing left to release.

Bardos only exist in samsara, which is defined by grasping and attachment. For someone like the Karmapa there is no bardo.

Even though you may have practiced well, don’t turn your death into a performance. And don’t compare. Feeling that your death has to measure up to someone else’s is the surest way to have a rugged death. While you might sustain the inspiration of the Karmapa, don’t expect to die like him. Die like yourself.

Be genuine, simple, and ordinary. Like death itself. If we don’t interfere, dying is easy. It’s the one thing in life we don’t have to do. And no matter how much we have studied the bardos, the experience is always fresh.

Our experience is far richer than the best map, so don’t let it cramp your journey, and don’t expect to die in a prescribed way.

Sogyal Rinpoche says, “Expectation is premeditated disappointment.”

Remember that we are composed of three bodies: (1) the gross physical body, (2) the subtle body, and (3) the very subtle body.

The gross body of flesh and blood is what dies during the outer dissolution.

The subtle body, which is made up of the channels (nadi), winds (prana), drops (bindu), and chakras, is what dissolves in the inner dissolution.

And the very subtle body, which is composed of very subtle prana and mind, is what’s revealed at the end of the inner dissolution, which is the point of death. This very subtle body does not die.

The very subtle body sheds the two outer bodies and continues merrily along its way to infinity.

In the next life, which begins in the cosmic dressing room of the bardo of becoming, this very subtle body will temporarily cover itself yet again with a new subtle and gross body, only to strip it all off when that next life ends.

Lama Yeshe says, “Understanding the subtle body and the very subtle body helps us to recognize that we have other bodies within us in addition to our physical body—so we don’t have to worry too much when our gross body is degenerating or being uncooperative.” (Lama Yeshe, Life, Death, and After Death, 84.)

Even during life, if we only relate to our gross body we’re going to get into trouble. This body is the basis of our egoic urges. If our focus stays on this superficial level we will lead a superficial life. This outer body, with its externally oriented senses, is always directed out and away from who we truly are. It points us in the wrong direction.

The inner yogas, which work with the subtle body, allow us to become familiar with our two inner bodies and therefore with our immortality. They point us in the right direction.

We avoid the core of our body like we avoid the core of reality. The inner yogas direct us to reality. They access and exercise our two inner bodies, weakening our exclusive identification with outer form and strengthening our identification with the formless. They allow us to touch our deathless nature.

This is the guiding view, and all we have to do to die well. We can strengthen this view by understanding the eight phases of the outer and inner dissolutions and their accompanying signs. These signs arise as physical and mental functions cease, signaling the advancement of death. It’s like learning about Notre Dame before visiting it. Having studied, we can better appreciate the nuances of the experience.

Dissolution and Signs

The eight stages of the bardo of dying, and the complexities of the bardo of dharmata, are described in many books.

[Note: See Luminous Emptiness by Francesca Fremantle; Mind Beyond Death by Dzogchen Ponlop; Journey of the Mind, by Thrangu Rinpoche; The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, by Sogyal Rinpoche; Bardo Guidebook, by Chökyi Nyima Rinpoche; Kalacakra Tantra, by Geshe Ngawang Dhargyey.]

The salient features of these stages in terms of what the dying person, and their caretakers, should know will now be highlighted.

With this concentrated overview we are plunging into the depths of the bardos. The teachings are as brilliant, and subtle, as the experiences themselves.

Many of us will not recognize the bardos when we enter them, and in the same way, a first exposure at the doctrinal level can be bewildering. What on earth are they talking about? It’s not like anything on earth. So, we need to be patient as we explore a brand new world—the inner world of our own mind.

The Dalai Lama says,

“In the mind that is untrained in meditative practice, this sequence of the mind becoming more subtle will frequently not be evident. There are eight stages in this process of going into sleep [and dying]. For a mind that is very finely disciplined in meditation each of those stages will become evident experientially.”

Andrew Holecek recounts: When I started teaching on the bardos, I noticed a curious thing. People would sit patiently as I described the material we have presented so far in this book. But when I got deeper into the bardo of dying, and then into the bardo of dharmata, people started to squirm. The minute the class was over, many of them darted toward the exit. I felt a sense of “get me out of here!” It struck me that this was a metaphor. After death, the intensity of the bardo of dharmata will spur us toward the exit of the bardo of becoming. “Get me out of here!” is the impetus that will propel us into our next life.

People tend to skip over this material the same way they’ll skip over these bardos when they experience them. But taking the time to become familiar with these bardos now allows us to recognize them later, increasing our chances for enlightenment. Recognition and liberation are simultaneous—but you won’t recognize something you’ve never met. Work with these baffling teachings now so you won’t be baffled later. The teachings are unequivocal: relate to it now or be forced to relate to it when you die.

The painful bardo of dying begins with the outer dissolution, which is the five stages of the death of the body.

This is followed by the inner dissolution, which is the three stages of the death of consciousness.

Each stage is accompanied with signs that can help the dying person and those around them. The signs help us recognize where we are and where we are going.

When someone stops eating, for example, that can be a sign that the fire element is dissolving and death is imminent. The fire element is involved in digestion, the “burning up” of food. If a seriously ill loved one stops eating, it’s time to go see them if we want to be there before they die.

Not everyone will experience all eight stages clearly, or in the following order. Thinking that death will unfold in such a systematic and predictable fashion can hinder our experience instead of enhancing it.

These stages are orienting generalizations, not immutable and definitive steps. But I have found them remarkably helpful in understanding what’s happening to the dying person.

Andrew Holocek recounts: I often ask hospice doctors and nurses how much time they think a person has, and compare that to my own intuition based on the five outer stages. The guidance provided by the five stages is usually more accurate than professional predictions. When my father stopped eating and drinking, I could see the dissolution of the fire and water elements. When he entered a period of labored breathing, followed by a rapid decrease in respiration, I knew he was losing the wind element and death was near. Because of these signs I was able to be there when he took his last breath.

The outer signs are visible to caretakers. They relate to experiences of the body. Inner signs are visible to the dying person, and sometimes to caretakers. They relate to experiences of the mind, or cognitive function. Secret signs are only visible to practitioners. They are meditation signs, and correlate to the experiences of luminosity. [Note: The secret signs  occur to practitioners in deep meditation. One sees these signs during meditation and therefore comes to recognize them at the moment of death.]

The outer and inner signs convey the loss of connection between body and mind as well as our severance from the outside world. They signal the end of who we think we are.

The secret signs indicate our approach to our ultimate nature (luminosity). They signal our proximity to who we really are.

The five stages of the outer dissolution are the elements of the body melting from gross into subtle: earth into water into fire into wind into consciousness.

In Sanskrit, it’s considered impolite to say someone has died. It’s more considerate to say pancatvam gatah: “they have returned to fiveness”—to the five elements.

The three stages of the inner dissolution involve consciousness melting into “space.” This isn’t outer space, but the infinite space of the awakened mind (dharmakaya-luminosity) that’s revealed at the end of the inner dissolution.

The outer signs of the bardo of dying begin as we age. If we’re sensitive to it, aging prepares us for death. Growing old and falling apart is nature’s way of teaching us how to release our obsession with form. It’s humiliating. Old age, sickness, and death are the ultimate insults to your ego, but the best compliments to your spirit.

Even before we enter the actual stages of dying, our body, and even our mind, starts to let go as we age. We lose our hair, our teeth, our vision, hearing, mobility, flexibility, endurance, memory, and countless other physical and mental aspects of our form. We lose control, productivity, independence, security, dreams for the future, and even meaning.

Aging is a preliminary practice (ngöndro) for the letting go that is forced upon us at death.

The spiritual teacher Eckhart Tolle writes:

The return movement in a person’s life, the weakening or dissolution of form, whether through old age, illness, disability, loss, or some kind of personal tragedy, carries great potential for spiritual awakening—the dis-identification of consciousness from form … Since death is only an abstract concept to them, most people are totally unprepared for the dissolution of form that awaits them. When it approaches, there is shock, incomprehension, despair, and great fear … [But] what is lost on the level of form is gained on the level of essence … [If related to properly,] old age or approaching death becomes what it is meant to be: an opening into the realm of spirit. (Eckhart Tolle, A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose, [New York: Penguin Group, 2005], 284-287.)

Each stage of the outer dissolution is associated with the disintegration of one of the skandhas.

[Note: The five skandhas (“heaps,” “aggregates”) are five components, or aspects of experience, that give rise to a sense of self, the ego. From gross to subtle, they are (1) form, (2) feeling, (3) perception, (4) formation, and (5) consciousness. See Chögyam Trungpa, Glimpses of Abhidharma (Boston: Shambhala Publications, 1987).]

By learning about the skandhas we can understand what to expect as they dissolve. Each of the five skandhas corresponds to one of the five wisdoms, so we can also learn about what lies ahead by studying the five wisdoms.

[Note: The mundane, or dualistic, level of each wisdom is what dissolves. In order: mirror-like wisdom; the wisdom of equanimity; discriminating awareness wisdom; all-accomplishing wisdom; and dharmadhatu wisdom.]

Each of the eight stages of the outer and inner dissolution is associated with the eight consciousnesses of the Yogachara tradition. Many teachers say this correspondence is exact. The outer dissolution corresponds to the dissolution of the first five consciousnesses, and the inner dissolution corresponds to the evaporation of the sixth, seventh, and eighth consciousnesses. Other teachers say it’s not this crisp.

Finally, each dissolution is associated with the dissipation of a chakra and inner wind. Once again, learning about the functions of these consciousnesses, chakras, and winds can help us understand the sequence of experiences.

[Note: Their order of dissolution is navel chakra; heart chakra; throat chakra; secret chakra; crown chakra. The corresponding winds are equal wind; life wind; descending wind; ascending wind; all-pervading wind. See Luminous Emptiness by Francesca Fremantle, 224–233.]

Anyen Rinpoche says:

When we talk about the dissolution of the elements during the dying process, we are talking about the dissolution of each element’s impure aspect, which leaves its pure wisdom aspect behind. Thus, when an element dissolves, we have an enhanced capacity to abide in or experience the nature of mind. This is due to the increased pure energy, or “wisdom wind” in the central channel as each element is purified. (Anyen Rinpoche, Dying With Confidence, 53.)

In other words, as the impure aspect of each element dissolves, the pure wisdom aspect enters the central channel. This affords a heightened opportunity to realize the nature of mind.

Conclusion

Here are the main verses, and summary instruction, for the bardo of dying and the bardo of dharmata, taken from The Tibetan Book of the Dead:

Now when the bardo of the moment before death dawns upon me,

I will abandon all grasping, yearning and attachment,

enter undistracted into clear awareness of the teaching,

and eject my consciousness into the space of unborn mind;

as I leave this compound body of flesh and blood

I will know it to be a transitory illusion.

Now when the bardo of dharmata dawns upon me,

I will abandon all thoughts of fear and terror,

I will recognize whatever appears as my projection

and know it to be a vision of the bardo;

now that I have reached this critical point,

I will not fear the peaceful and wrathful ones, my own projections. (The Tibetan Book of the Dead, trans. Francesca Fremantle and Chogyam Trungpa, 99.)

Final pith instruction for what to do during death: release everything that will hold you back. Look forward, let go—and relax.

Source: Based on Holecek, Andrew. Preparing to Die. Shambhala. Kindle Edition.

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