About Getting Back Home
What does the term “bardo” mean in the context of the Tibetan Book of the Dead?
Imagine drifting through a twilight zone that isn’t quite life, yet not fully death—that’s the essence of “bardo” in this age-old guide to the afterlife. Literally translating from Tibetan as the “in-between place” or “intermediate state,” bardo describes the six transitional phases the consciousness traverses from the moment of actual death up to rebirth.
These bardos unfold like chapters in a cosmic novel. First comes the moment of passing, when familiar thoughts dissolve and raw experience flashes brightly. Next arrives the luminous bardo, a dazzling display of inner visions—some peaceful, some terrifying—shaped by karma and mental habits. As modern neuroscience pokes around near-death phenomena, echoes of these descriptions pop up in EEG readings and patient testimonies, as if ancient wisdom and lab coats are finally on the same page.
Beyond the visions, two more phases guide the wandering mind toward karmic impressions and, finally, the choice (or compulsion) to take rebirth. It’s not unlike sleeping and dreaming, then waking up in a brand new world: each bardo a doorway, each vision a clue. Today’s mindfulness apps often borrow this roadmap, encouraging users to observe thoughts as fleeting guests—much like bardo teachings urge awareness of shifting mental landscapes.
Far from a somber manual, this “book” offers a radical invitation: life and death are part of a great dance, steps guided by clarity and kindness. Navigating bardo becomes a practice in staying present, whether scrolling through social media or facing the ultimate mystery.