A Buddhist ViewFrom The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying

An Interpretation by Tom Smith, Ph.D.

 

“Form is Emptiness
Emptiness is Form”

The Situation

In 1992, The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying was published. Writing from the Dzogchen, Nyingma school of the Tibetan Buddhist tradition, transmitted by the supreme master Padmasambhava, the essential spirit of Dzogchen, Sogyal Rinpoche focuses on the meaning of life, how to accept death and how to help the dying and the dead.

Central to all Buddhist traditions and teachings is the concept of impermanence. All things change and everything will pass away. Everything rises from the radiant ground of being and returns to it. A physicist might say that space is turning space into space.

Death is everywhere. But, as in all the great spiritual traditions of the world, Buddhism does not consider it to be the end. There is, more often than not, reincarnation. In the West, death is often approached with fear, trembling and dread. It is not thought of or spoken about until it rears its head to take us away catching us unawares and unprepared.

Death is surely a mystery; nevertheless, we are certain that we will die but uncertain about how and when. In Buddhism, we become friends with death; eating, breathing, sleeping and living with it every moment of every day. In Buddhism, we “practice death”. We wait for it everywhere all the time. We learn how to die with every breath. In this way, we find freedom and liberation from the fetters of attachment and repulsion. We die to the world and we die to the so-called “self”.

In Buddhism, we ask, “Who dies?” In Buddhism there is no self to die. There is simply one experience following another and another until there is no more experience. Our “identity” is an illusion made up from a collection of remembered experiences. We assume an identity in our mind that is as impermanent as one moment flowing into the next. With that said, we futilely try to survive into a future that is always out of reach, all the while missing the present moment that we have. We become an unconscious, living corpse.

The other day, while I was out walking, I saw a pickup truck go through the intersection and continue down the street until it swerved and hit a couple of parked cars. I ran to see what had happened. I looked inside the cab of the truck and saw a lifeless body slumped over the steering wheel. That man went through the intersection confidently anticipating that in the very near future he would make it to the next block. He did not. Planning for the future is a gamble. The Buddhist would say that if you have to think about something, make it the uncertainty of the hour of your death. Here today, gone tomorrow. What comes first, tomorrow or the next life?

What we do with our lives, how we live our life really, really matters and everything counts because it results in who we are when we die. It is crucial that we pay attention at all times everywhere and take full responsibility for our experience. Do not become lazy and fall asleep. Pay attention to unfelt feelings and unmet needs. Take responsibility for them. Feel the feelings; meet the needs. Pay attention; nothing lasts. We only have now.

Accepting and embracing death creates change in the depths of the heart. Every moment becomes precious and is a treasure. We begin to understand that with practice, it is possible to maintain an intrinsic awareness in the pure presence of the moment from moment to moment, cognizant, empty, open and awake. We find that learning to live is learning to constantly let go. It is impossible to hold on anyway and if we do, we experience pain and suffering. So, it is incumbent upon us to let go of experience making room for the newness of the next moment; to stay here in the now.

All of this takes great courage and commitment. To stay with the truth of the moment means paying attention and not getting lost in the cacophony and circus of the mind. The mind is like a mirror reflecting whatever is put in front of it whether that is thoughts and images from within or without. Letting go of the thoughts and images as they arise breaks the chain of delusion which is the root of our suffering and fear of death. Life and death only exist in the mind. We are not to be deceived by the attractions and attachments of life; they do not last. Difficulties and obstacles present themselves as opportunities to let go and discover new strengths within.

The View

We can become like spiritual soldiers fueled by compassion, our ego dying over and over again to constantly become new here and now seeing the actual state of things as they are. This is called “The View”. Realizing The View transforms the vision of everything; thoughts and images, hopes and fears are seen as fleeting and transparent. We do not cling to them or reject them, but see them come and go as part of the intrinsic reality.

We can establish and maintain the view by sitting quietly doing nothing. This takes practice. At first, we can only do it for a few seconds! But, with more and more practice we can learn to train the mind to be like a mirror with nothing in front of it. The mind becomes as open, free and limitless as the blue sky with no clouds. We can discover a relaxed alertness to the here and now. Thoughts and emotions come and go like waves on the ocean of mind. All of life becomes a great meditation and we experience liberation.

The Buddhist say that when death comes, mind, consciousness not ego, continues into another rebirth or reincarnation. So, how we lived our life matters in how we are reborn or reincarnated. This is called karma, the natural law of cause and effect. It is said that even a little bit of poison can cause death and a small seed a great tree. Our motivation determines the fruit of our actions. So, do I have a good heart or a hard heart? I am responsible for the results of my actions.

The Bardos

The Tibetan Book of the Dead speaks of “bardos”. Bardos are simply life transitions, the gap between the completion of one situation and the beginning of another. Every moment of our experience is a bardo. They are all different states and realities of mind. In the gap between bardos the mind rests in great peace and one can experience the deathless nature of the enlightened mind. There are four fundamental bardos: The bardo of this life from beginning to end, the bardo of dying from the onset of the process to the final respiration, the bardo of after death and the experience of the Clear Light and the karmic bardo of becoming again. All bardos present opportunities for liberation, which is the point of all Buddhism.

In Tibetan Buddhism the moment of death is ripe with opportunity, for it is then that ego falls away and the fundamental nature of mind, the Clear Light, is made manifest. If at this crucial moment we recognize the Clear Light, we will attain liberation. One is liberated in one’s lifetime and not in a bardo state after death. Given the essential recognition of the Clear Light has taken place within one’s lifetime and is established, we are off the wheel of the cycle of birth and death.

The life practice of paying attention prepares us for the difficulty of remaining aware during the confusion and uncertainty of the bardos of death. How often or have you ever paid close attention to the change in consciousness before sleep? Are you aware that you are dreaming when you are dreaming? These are analogous to the difficulty of paying attention while dying. To the Western mind all this sounds quite foreign, for how can one pay attention while one is asleep? If we add the practice of paying attention to life’s transitions during the day and learning to pay attention as one falls asleep and then while dreaming (called lucid dreaming, which has been researched scientifically and its existence well established), to the four fundamental bardos, we have six basic bardos. With practice, it is possible to realize these states of mind while we are alive here now.

To live life fully, we must take the spiritual path to realize and embody our true being outside the realm of “ordinary mind”. In the natural bardo of this life, we can follow the path of wisdom rather than our deep rooted habits of ignorance, pride, jealousy, desire, greed and anger. This requires great humility and devotion and promises a stream of blessings. In the end, it may result in the body being reabsorbed back into the essence of the elements that created it, the material body dissolving into light and disappearing completely! This is called the “Rainbow Body”.

This dissolution may be difficult to believe, but is real and documented in the Tibetan literature. A person who knows that they may attain this state asks and is left alone and undisturbed for a week. On the eight day the transition is complete and all that is left are hair and fingernails. The most recent documented case of this, witnessed by many people, took place in 1952, when Sönam Namgyal, a simple and humble stone carver, the father of the tutor of Sogyal Rinpoche attained the Rainbow Body. Near the end, he said that he had forgotten all the teachings because there is nothing to remember, everything is an illusion and he is confident that all is well.

Help for the Dying

In Tibetan Buddhism, there is a way to help people who are dying. At the end of this journey, we die as we lived. So, in life it is important to establish heartfelt communication with others so we can have that with them when they die and with our self when we die. This deep, heartfelt communication that expresses unconditional love released from all expectation starts with an open, calm silence that listens with ease to the most private feelings of the dying person at their most vulnerable time. Even if they lash out in frustration or anger, we listen patiently, taking nothing personally. We do not preach to them or allay their fears with platitudes. We just listen. We expect nothing from them and nothing from our self. We do not try to say anything. We accept the person totally and without reservation. If we have had a tumultuous relationship with this person this may not be easy, but it provides us the opportunity to find an ever deeper forgiveness and love.

Another practice to help the dying is to remember that this person is you. It is you who is dying with all the attendant needs, fears and helplessness. As you put yourself in their place, what would you want? What do you need? How do you feel being in pain and alone with death approaching? Do this and what you will find is what you both want; namely, unconditional love and acceptance. We can gently touch the person by holding their hand to bring them to the present moment and communicate that love and acceptance non verbally.

Really, you do not have to be, do or try to do anything, but be yourself, open and present, ready to understand what the person is going through. They are letting go of everything that was their life: What they did for a living, their friends, possessions, their health and finally, their body and presence here in this timespace.

Always tell the truth, albeit, tactfully and gently. If their situation is worsening and death is near, it is okay to share that with them. Most people, if they are conscious and aware, know anyway. Facing the pain of loss for everyone involved can often bring a great peace and love that dissolves the fear of dying. We give the dying person permission to die all the while reassuring them that everything is going to be all right when they are gone and there is no need for them to worry. Comfort them with the notion that dying is a natural part of life coming to an end and that they are not alone now or ever and that they have all of our love and that love never dies.

Buddhism emphasizes a peaceful death by creating and maintaining a calm and harmonious environment without great drama, weeping and wailing. This does nothing but distress the dying person. It is best to die in the peace of one’s home, but if that is not possible, one can create a pleasing environment in the hospital or other institution by creating a small shrine or putting a crucifix up or pictures of the Virgin Mary (if that is part of their faith) or pictures of friends and drawings of children or photos of beautiful scenery. If they are very close to death, do not disturb the person by taking vital signs or making any clinical intervention. Give them privacy, silence and serenity and respect their process. Let them be; they are going. It is the time for spiritual concern. A peaceful death is an essential human right.

If you have ever attended the death of another, you have found that we become very aware of our shared mortality as human beings and the preciousness of each moment that we share with one another and all sentient beings. Attending death can awaken a deep, fearless compassion that expands and activates our love to make the whole world a better place. Compassion, another critical element of Buddhism (the Dalai Lama is always exhorting us to be compassionate to all sentient beings at all times) comes from the latin words “cum passus” or to suffer with another. The suffering of the entire world is our suffering. The death of another is our death. Compassion has no boundaries.

The “Tonglen” and “Phowa” Practices

Two great Tibetan practices for helping the dying are “Tonglen”, the “giving and receiving” and “Phowa” (po-wa), the “transference of consciousness”. The practice of Tonglen takes a great commitment to develop and usually requires a teacher or master and much time. Not all can learn to practice Tonglen. Tonglen in Dzogchen is the practice of “giving and receiving”. It is meant to awaken locked up or blocked compassion. Phowa, on the other hand is easily attainable and open to all. Any one can do this essential and simple practice.

To begin the practice of Tonglen one must be able to summon up compassion in one’s self … our hidden love. Because of the problems of ego, this practice must be taught through the direct tuition of a teacher. First, we must unseal the spring of loving kindness. Most people feel that they do not have enough love to give, especially to people who they consider difficult, have had conflict with or are their enemies. Once we tap into this spring, we awaken the compassion that comes from considering our self the same as all people. In this state, we “exchange our self for the other”. One way to do this for the dying person is to imagine them as your most dear friend from whom you would not withhold in the least any love. You gaze upon them with an open, unbounded heart.

Additionally, we can spend some time meditating deeply on compassion and directing it to our sacred self, then the other, then the community, the state, the nation and the whole world. We offer up the expanded heart of our enlightened mind and take on the suffering of others.

The preliminary practice of Tonglen first involves creating an environment internally and externally of calm, clear joy (I remember in the days before my beloved Arthur died, I asked him if he wanted to “enjoy” his dying. He could not speak, but nodded “yes”). With that environment established, we open up to the two sides of our self; the one that is full of compassion and the one that is hurt, misunderstood, angry or bitter. Then we take that compassionate side and pour it out on the other part. We practice “Self-Tonglen”. Then we imagine living situations in which we have acted in ways we feel guilty or ashamed of and then confess that to our self accepting total responsibility, breathing in the harm we have done and breathing out healing forgiveness and reconciliation. The final preliminary practice is then to do Tonglen for others, breathing in their pain, your neighbor, friend, brother, mother, sister, father. whomever and then breathing out and streaming to them love, joy, happiness and healing.

It is easy to see why this takes a great deal of practice, time and the teaching of a master. Most of us are filled with faults of character that have been there for a long time and of which we are unaware; that is why the teacher is necessary. Once we have some mastery over the preliminary practice of Tonglen we are ready for the main Tonglen practice of “giving and receiving”

We quiet the mind; we open to the suffering ot the “other”; we take it in to purify any of our negative karma and let go of ego and any self-importance; we then breathe out of our enlightened and purified heart and mind the light of peace, joy, happiness and well-being upon the “other”, feeling with firm conviction that they are free of their negative karma, suffering and pain. This is the goal of Tonglen practice and of all compassion. To do this for the dying person is the greatest gift you can give them upon the occasion of their passing. The Holy Secret is to exchange one’s self for the other.

Death can be a very inspiring experience. I have learned to die by having numerous great teachers, ordinary people, who taught me how to die and in some cases, how not to die. I have been with many, many dying people throughout out my life, beginning with my Uncle Joe when I was only 5 years old and more recently with 50 – 60 dear, dear friends who died without life saving medications during the dark days of AIDS .

The dying seek forgiveness for what they have done or failed to do, for what they have said or thought, that may have, in their heart and mind, been wrong. They want to die reconciled and then filled with hope for what happens next. Many who are approaching death have not embraced a spiritual practice throughout their life and as their time approaches there are many concerns about that.

I remember Billy, raised with no formal spiritual education, who, once he accepted that he was dying of AIDS, asked if he could come to church and before he died he was baptized and received fully into the Catholic Church benefiting from its sacraments and solace. Remarkably, his father and subsequently his grandmother of 90 years asked to be baptized into the Catholic Church. His death awakened a deep compassion in his entire family and the community where he grew up. His father and mother went on to start a charitable organization in their town for all people suffering from and dying of AIDS.

The “Phowa” practice for helping the dying is considered by Sogyal Rinpoche to be the most valuable and powerful practice in caring for the dying. There is the traditional practice done by a master during the bardo of dying and then there is the essential practice that anyone can do. This simple and natural practice has brought serenity and peace to tens of thousands of dying persons. The dying person can also engage in this practice. There are three ways to do this practice.

One way is to begin by bringing the mind home and becoming very comfortable. Invoke whatever divine presence in which you believe: Jesus, the Buddha, the Virgin Mary, Allah, Vishnu, Mahashakti, the Great Spirit of the Sky or simply a great radiant light that is brighter than the sun. Feel the embodiment of all the wisdom and truth of all saints, great masters and enlightened beings. Focus on this and begin your solemn profession of deep gratitude for all that you have received in this life; ask forgiveness for whatever wrongs you have committed and petition for a peaceful death that may benefit all beings living and dead. Now, imagine that all this is granted and that you are enveloped in a loving luminous light. Feel that you are now purified, completely made whole and that your body is dissolving and that you are becoming the light. Bask in this state of oneness with the All for as long as possible.

Even more simply, rest quietly and invoke the truth of the divine presence of your belief. See your consciousness as a shaft of light that flames out into the divine presence before you. Surrender to this transference and merge into the beatific vision.

Finally, most simply, the essential practice is to merge your mind with God, the wisdom of pure presence.

It is beneficial to learn the practice of Phowa before the time comes for yourself or others so to have the confidence to do it when the final dying begins. It is easier to do if you are familiar with it and it is part of your nature. In this way, if death is swift or part of a major crisis like an accident or war, the practice of phowa begins without thought. Practice, practice, practice phowa and it will be there when you need it.

When this practice is done for the dying, everything is the same except we simply envision the divine presence above the head of the dying person. Begin early in the dying process, weeks or days, and especially in the final hours and minutes when the last breath approaches. If the dying person is aware of the practice and what it means, you can bring a most beautiful comfort, peace and grace to them as they enter the bardo of death.

We can even dedicate our own death to alleviate the suffering of the world. If one has AIDS or cancer or some other terminal illness, you can imagine all the other people in the world who share in your suffering and you in theirs. You and they are not alone. One can learn the practice of “giving and receiving”, the Tonglen practice, and bring great meaning and purpose to suffering that on the surface seems pointless. In this way one can die in peace and reconciliation with the world.

Specific Practices for Dying

At the moment of death there are only two things that really count: How we have lived our life up to that point and our state of mind at the time. It is so easy as death draws near to fall back into the habitual tendencies of ordinary mind. As the time of letting go approaches, we want to cling to life and ego. Fear may rise and negative thoughts permeate the moment. We may find our self grasping just at the time we should be letting go.

In Tibetan Buddhism, it is crucial that we die in a positive frame of mind. The last thought or emotion we have before our last breath powerfully determines the bardo of our immediate future. This is why a peaceful, compassionate atmosphere is created and the Tonglen and Phowa practices initiated.

For a most successful and peaceful death, it is vital that one begin the process of letting go of attachments as soon as possible. Think of the oft quoted phrase, “You can’t take it with you”. No, you cannot. So, ideally, one begins to give everything away before the recitation of the will. We surrender all of our material possessions. It is important that there is clarity, written down, regarding the disposition of property so there is peace surrounding the letting go of attachments. After possessions, we must let of of relationships, loves, friendships. If we find our self particularly close to someone, it may be a good practice to die outside of the presence of that person so not to be tempted to fall into attachment at the last moment. It really is okay to die alone, the masters do it all the time. This preparation, if done well, opens the door for the dying person to enter without distraction into the Clear Light that is beyond ordinary mind. Think of going towards the Light.

Once the last external respiration occurs the dying has begun, the inner respiration begins to wind down and we transition into the third bardo. The person, from the Tibetan perspective, is not quite dead yet. If there is a master present, this is the time for spiritual exhortation and encouragement for the dying person to enter the Clear Light. I remember when Artie died, there was a holy man, Dominic, present, who came into the room just minutes before the final breath and when he saw Art let go, he whispered into his ear, “Go to heaven, Artie; go to heaven”. At that time Arthur received a direct blessing. It was miraculous. It was now the time to sit with the body as it grew cold and to be with Art as he entered the third bardo.

The Essential Practices

Three essential practices for dying are resting in unfettered natural mind, evoking heart essence; the traditional phowa transference of consciousness; and finally, prayer, devotion, and the blessing of enlightened or holy beings. If one is an accomplished spiritual practitioner of Dzogchen, one dies like a newborn child. Lesser practitioners die like beggars in the street. This is not so bad. What it means is that because of their stability and steadfastness of practice they are unaffected by what is going on around them. They could die as peacefully and undisturbed on the street as they could in a hospital or at home with weeping and wailing family members. Though not accomplished and a master in the practice, they are far enough along to know their center and the Clear Light of natural mind.

The essential phowa practice can be done by anyone and is as much a healing practice for the living as it is a preparation for death. The traditional phowa transfer of consciousness should only be done by a very experienced spiritual practitioner, a master. The reason for this is that the timing of the visualizing of the ejecting of the dying person’s consciousness through the top of the head not be done too early. Effective preparation as noted above contributes to successful phowa or transfer of the dying person’s consciousness into the Buddha realm (for the Western mind, think “Heaven”).

For the Western mind to understand this practice, we might draw a very loose analogy to the Catholic tradition of inviting the priest to come to administer “extreme unction” or the last rites of anointing the person with a sickness that may result in death . Although, the phowa practice is more complicated than that. In the Western spiritual traditions, as the Tibetan, we emphasize the power and value of dying in a state of grace or prayer, communication and union with God. Sometimes people are gathered around the bedside of the dying and praying. This is good. At this time, even the “sinner” can be redeemed and “go to heaven”.

For a victorious, triumphant, meritorious death, it is essential to recognize the very convincing illusion of the apparent solid reality, particularly our body, for what it is. When we die, ultimately a cold lifeless body remains and if we wait long enough, it will dissolve into the elements. When we see a corpse, the person that was there is not there anymore. Who we really are is an ephemeral energy that flows through the body. Even our vivid sense of self is actually an illusion. All reality is mediated through the senses. From the senses we construct “reality”. All constructions are illusion; albeit, an extremely vivd, impressive, palpable, malleable illusion. We are not things, but rather be-ings. We are a verb. We are akin to music that comes into existence and then out that can only be experienced when performed and then it is over. All of these comparisons and analogies are feeble and pale in the Clear Light of the intrinsic, ultimate reality.

The Dying Process

Just as in the Western clinical model that describes dying from sometimes months, but mostly weeks, days and hours, there is a Tibetan model that describes the dying process from observable cues.

In the Tibetan model, there are two fundamental ways to die: The end of our natural life span as counted by a finite number of breaths and by accident. It is very difficult, but not impossible to extend one’s life past the “natural” life span as determined by our karma. An untimely death is more easily averted by paying attention and also understanding the signs that may foretell death within years, months and sometimes weeks or days, hours, minutes or even seconds.

The bardo of dying begins when we become aware of a condition that will end in death and ultimately the ceasing of the “inner respiration”. If we are not aware or prepared for what is to come, this can be a bardo of pain and suffering. It serves us well to prepare for our death long before it comes. Death is nevertheless a mystery and that uncertainty can be disconcerting when it arrives. Our whole reality is going to disappear and we do not know what is going to happen next. This can provoke a great deal of anxiety if we feel any fear, guilt or regrets about how we lived our life. We may fall into despair.

If one knows what is happening and is prepared, death loses its painful sting. We are more likely to look forward to the unknown with joy and hope. I once knew a very old priest who was going blind, had a poor heart and when he talked of dying he spoke with a joy and anticipation that made it seem as if he was looking forward to coming home from a long journey. I remember Father O’Conner, my mentor and patron, who, the night before he died, balanced the books for which he was responsible as treasurer of his order, went to bed and in the morning was found with a smile on his face and the bedclothes not at all disturbed. He knew he was dying, finished up some last tasks and then just lied down and died. I have seen a few people die in great peace and acceptance with the most beautiful visage.

If we become familiar and aware of the signs of death as it approaches, what appears as strange and distressing is then understood as just part of the natural process of dying and that there is nothing to be afraid of or to get all excited about.

In the Tibetan teachings there are two basic phases of dissolution: The Outer and Inner. The outer dissolution is obvious when we stop sensing our external reality and our bodies cease gross functioning. The inner dissolution is more subtle in nature with the falling away of thoughts and emotions. To honor these two phases, I have in several instances stayed with the body for 3-4 hours until the dissolution was complete. It helps to understand how the body and mind disintegrate at death.

The Tibetan model teaches that the body arises out of the five elements of mind: Earth, air, fire, water and space. From the mind arises the body and from the body, sense consciousness. The body is understood as a psychophysical system that has subtle energies and essences running through it something similar to the Chinese system of Qi and meridians. All of this dissolves at death.

Each stage of death has its physical and psychological effect on the dying person that can be seen in external physical signs as well as inner experiences. Stages of outer dissolution may occur quickly and subtly and may not be easily noticed Additionally, such signs may be masked by the administration of drugs to ease suffering.

The optimum position for dying is to lie on the right side of the body with the left hand on the left thigh and the right hand under the chin. This is said to be the position the Buddha was in when he died. This position facilitates the consciousness to leave the body through the former fontanel at the top of the head.

The first occurrence of the outer dissolution is noticed when the senses begin to fail us. We may hear people talking, but not understand the words. We may see people, but only their outlines and not the details of their appearance. We are no longer able to notice smells or taste. The sense of touch becomes attenuated. There are four phases following this dissolution of the elements of mind: The Earth phase, then the Water phase, followed by Fire and finally, the Air phase.

You may have noticed that we often prop the ill and dying person up in the bed using pillows and have them drink from a cup using a straw. They are very, very weak because they are losing their strength and energy. It is an effort to raise one’s arm and then, even the hand. It is difficult to open the eyes. Often, one speaks with difficulty or cannot speak at all. The aggregate form is dissolving. Earth is sinking into water.

Soon after, the eyes and nose begin to run with bodily fluids. They may sweat profusely. The face must be frequently washed with a cloth. The dying person begins to lose control of their bladder and bowels. For their comfort we may put them in a diaper to easily clean them and give them dignity. They start to go in and out of consciousness.

In a short while, we notice that the mouth of the dying person becomes parched and we swab it with a sponge dipped in cool water. Their bladder and bowel are empty. The eyes become crusty, dry and begin to sink into their sockets. I remember at 2:00 a.m., only 8 hours before his death, Arthur’s mouth was very dry and the nurse was moistening it with a swab on a stick. I recalled that Art very much enjoyed popsicles, cherry as a matter of fact. I asked her if she had one. She left to check and returned almost miraculously with a CHERRY popsicle! He opened his mouth and very gently and slowly I gave him the treat. It was his last earthly food and enjoyment. He was entering the next phase of death: Water goes into fire.

The body begins to dry out and cool down. The extremities grow cold first. Nothing more is taken into the body, no water, no food. At this point, it may be difficult to recognize anyone in the room. Sight and sound become clouded and begin to fade. Fire is dissolving into air. The body is burning the fire out and will soon be only like a glowing ember.

If you have attended a death, you may have noticed that when the end is near, breathing becomes labored and the dying person may exhibit signs of distress even though they are semiconscious or totally unconscious. They may breathe very heavily and frequently and then stop for a long period of time. We may think that they have died and check for pulse or to hear breathing. The body may exhibit occasional clonus. At this time in hospital or hospice, morphine is often administered for the sake of the dying person to make them at least appear comfortable and for the sake of those at the bedside to not become alarmed at the process. The eyes may roll upward. The dying person may experience hallucinations or have visions of either a dreadful or blissful nature. The in-breath becomes more shallow and the out-breath more extended. The air element is dissolving into the sea of consciousness. There then occurs a long exhalation. Finally, all breathing stops. All vital signs disappear. In the Western model, the person is clinically dead. However, in the Tibetan model, as mentioned earlier, there is still the internal process or inner dissolution taking place. The “inner respiration” ordinarily continues for about 20 minutes or less.

Now, the sky meets the earth, there is mind without thought, the most subtle inner mind in the clear light of death.

What happens when we die is that everything dissolves including anger, desire and ignorance and then there is a gap between bardos. Our true nature is revealed, a gradual development and dawning of more and more subtle levels of consciousness ending in the most subtle consciousness of all: The Clear Light of pure consciousness. There are many descriptions of the process of dying differing in detail; but what has been explained here is the general pattern from the Tibetan Buddhist Dzogchen point of view.

For a more comprehensive and complete elucidation of the above and the Tibetan view of what happens after death, the reader is encouraged to read both The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying and The Cycle of Day and Night. At first, the ideas in these books may seem exotic and alien to the Western mind, but with a focused and repeated reading, they will eventually become clear and the reader will be left with a view toward living and dying that is fresh, positive, compassionate and life affirming.

References

The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying; Sogyal Rinpoche; edited by Gaffney, P and Harvey, A; HarperSanFrancisco, 1992

The Cycle of Day and Night, An Essential Tibetan Text on the Practice of Contemplation; Namkhai Norbu, Trans & Ed. Reynolds, John; Station Hill Press, Barrytown, NY, 1984, 1987

Watanabe,-Tsuneo (Mar 2003). “Lucid Dreaming: Its Experimental Proof and Psychological Conditions”. Journal-of-International-Society-of-Life-Information-Science 21 (1): 159-162.

LaBerge, Stephen (1990). in Bootzen, R. R., Kihlstrom, J.F. & Schacter, D.L., (Eds.): Lucid Dreaming: Psychophysiological Studies of Consciousness during REM Sleep Sleep and Cognition. Washington, D.C.: American Psychological Association, pp. 109 – 126.