This post was not meant for everyone. And yet, if you are here reading these words, perhaps it means something within you is already waking up. Maybe you have felt a silent call or glimpsed a truth too profound for ordinary conversation. This is the beginning—not just of a story, but of a journey into the space between death and birth, a place Tibetan monks have studied not through books but through direct experience.
In that liminal space, the “bardo,” time and form dissolve, and what remains is pure consciousness—our true self beyond names, memories, pain, or victories. As my beloved guru Nisargadatta Maharaj taught: “The consciousness in you and the consciousness in me, apparently two, really one, seek unity and that is love.”
The ancient scrolls discovered in remote monasteries speak not of hell or paradise but of choice—choices made not in ignorance but in full awareness. The journey through 49 states of the bardo is not just a metaphysical passage but a reflection of our inner attachments: to our memories, our fears, our desires. The first light is not liberation; it is a mirror reflecting all that we cling to.
Paramahansa Yogananda, another guiding light in my life, reminded us: “You must learn to find the pearl of great price, the jewel of the kingdom of God, which is within you.” The “kingdom of God” here is the silent space beyond thought and form, the clarity that arises only when all attachments fall away.
But the path is fraught with subtle traps—the voices of loved ones, the faces of angels or demons, the illusions of paradise—all mechanisms of the wheel of samsara, the cycle of rebirth, that holds us captive unless we awaken. This is not punishment; it is an automatic mechanism, a cosmic gravity that pulls us back if we do not recognize the truth.
Ramana Maharshi’s question, “Who am I?”, echoes in that silent space where the soul confronts itself stripped of all disguise. It is here that the final choice is made: to return to the cycle or to pass beyond it into absolute presence—zogchun—the state where there is no self, no other, only pure being.
As Sri Shankara beautifully elucidated in Advaita Vedanta, “Brahman is without a second,” meaning there is only one undivided reality. When we merge with that reality, the illusory boundaries dissolve, and we see ourselves as everything and nothing at once.
Yet, some who reach this state of
liberation choose compassionately to return—bodhicattvas—reminding others
of the path through words, glances, or silence. They do not preach but
spark the memory of who we are beneath the stories we tell ourselves. The
poet Rumi captured this ineffable truth:
"You were born with wings, why
prefer to crawl through life?"
The teachings warn that not all who appear luminous are guides—some are shadows meant to tempt us back into the cycle. This reminds me how vigilance and presence are the real practices, not merely belief or knowledge. Meditation is not for fleeting peace but for cultivating emptiness, for learning to observe without reaction—because reaction is the lock that keeps the wheel turning.
In the age of constant distraction, where attention is the battlefield, this ancient wisdom feels more urgent than ever. The wheel will break not by force or rebellion, but when enough souls awaken, when remembering surpasses forgetting, when the light within outshines the fear without.
I invite you to watch this illuminating video The Tibetan Book of the Dead: The Great Liberation Through Hearing in the Intermediate State, which inspired this reflection and beautifully portrays this profound journey.
If these words have stirred something within you, consider that you are already standing on the threshold. The path ahead is silent and solitary but radiant with possibility. Remember that the truth does not shout; it whispers, waiting for your quiet awakening.
The call is simple yet profound: Remember who you are beyond the name, beyond the story, beyond the body. You are the one who sees. You are the stillness in the storm. And when enough of us remember, the wheel will stop turning—for all of us.
Call
to Action:
Begin today by cultivating presence in your daily life. Practice moments
of silent observation without reaction. Reflect deeply on the question
Ramana Maharshi posed: Who am I?
Explore the teachings of your spiritual guides and the wisdom embedded in
your own heart. Share this post or the video with those you feel may also
be ready to awaken. Together, let us become the remembering that lights
the way for others.
Did this post resonate with you? Please let me know.