Post #5 March 17, 2026
The term “primordial” is repeated often throughout the chapter on the bardo of the luminosity of the true nature. Primordial, as in first, primary, since the beginning. Confirming that these characteristics about ourselves have always been there. Meeting our primordial wisdom, our primordial nature dictates how we will respond to the interactions we will experience during this short-lived bardo. Our primordial nature is not small, quiet, subtle, or soft. This bardo throws out the mundane capitalistic description of consciousness we’ve established for the sake of wellness, accessibility, and compliance. Sound, lights, big and small, all arrive in ways we do not expect, because the stories about death and dying we’ve heard all our lives describe a tolerable and peaceful exit (and occasional return). However, our primordial state is the same as that which ignited the first big bang: Majestic. Omnipotent. Imagine just how intense, overwhelming, and unregulated that first explosion had to be in order to create the beginning of the world, the universe, the stars, planets, and more. We meet our big bang in this bardo. We hear it. We see it as it aggressively directs itself towards us. And it does not get more intimate than this: it is travelling towards you from inside of you. If you had eyes to close, you’d know that there would be no pause, no exit, no turning away, because it is all happening within the mind. And there is nowhere to go. What I’ve just described sounds much like a hallucination, and some have described it as such. However, keep in mind that the duality of “real vs unreal” does not exist in this bardo. It is all reality; the duality exists in the ability to recognize your true nature or not.
Once again, we meet our mind’s creations, and in this sense, we actually see and hear how it all begins. Watching the big bang happen inside our mind. With eyes frozen wide open by default. And it doesn’t happen quickly or slowly enough to consider how time will pass. There is no waiting things out. There is no rushing through. Here we confirm that time truly does not exist. A short moment feels like eternity. Eternity meets us in one flashing moment. If rage had a sound, it would sound like roaring tornadoes, crushing earthquakes, crashing icebergs, and wild, uncontrollable forest fires all happening at once. Sounds we all imagine as horrifying. Only this time, we would experience them all internally, but hopefully, remembering that they are not approaching from the outside. Because we are the origin of those terrifying sounds. And they do not emanate from rage and destruction, but from power.
This bardo is not meant to be frightening; it is meant to be truth-telling. In the bardo of the luminosity of the true nature, we see our primordial truth. Our power. Recognizing these sounds, images, and lights as nothing more than our own inner minds will save us much turmoil. So, again, here we are, finding our way back onto the seat of meditation, where we learn to sit, observe, and understand our true nature. We are powerful and need to unlearn the fear of this power. It's all here, within the mind that we see, hear, dream, remember, cultivate, block, numb, overthink, neglect, obsess, and forget that the bad, the ugly, and the grotesque we see, hear, and feel are all essential self-created components of our existence. These demons are us. We are the demons. The demons are unresolved aspects of our compartmentalized evolution. Over time, those scattered pieces of ourselves stop looking and sounding familiar and instead become threatening. Our primordial, true nature is whole and so powerful that it inspires absolute terror. Finding peace with this instantly ends the turmoil. Recognizing that those demons are our innate self-created thoughts instantly ends the suffering. Confronting those parts of us that we do not want to see or hear settles us back into true primordial peace. So, practice meditation, hire a therapist, do the work to uncover, understand, integrate, and love your dragons while in the bardo of the living; they will meld into you and make you whole. When you see them again in the bardo of the luminosity of the true nature, fearlessly and hopelessly, you will both dissolve into primordial oneness.
Post #4 March 8, 2026
So, in order to write about this bardo, the bardo of the Dream State, I actually needed to practice dream yoga. To be honest, I’d heard about dream yoga but never had a reason to pursue it until now. The energetic shifts, world tensions, and physical changes as I mature and evolve have made my sleep quality a top priority among all of life’s responsibilities. Yes, sleep is one’s responsibility and a priority in life, and studying the Bardos helped me break down the steps to developing this practice sustainably. Now, dream yoga is relevant to me, and I hope it becomes relevant to you as well. There is much more to quality sleep than practicing good sleep hygiene. In the Yoga Sutras, Patanjali explains that what we ought to pursue is not deep sleep itself, but the peacefulness of deep sleep. This, my kindred, is a game changer. Particularly during those nights when the mind does not shut off, or we are simply unable to drift off as we are told we should, this is when we should meditate on the peacefulness of deep sleep. By the third night of this practice, I’ve learned (or remembered) how to sleep deeply again. And this has changed my entire outlook on what truly matters during my waking hours and in the moments of my pre-sleep routine (more of this to come). With this in mind, I will now share my understanding of dream yoga.
Beginning with the optimal position for dreaming, the Lion’s posture for dreaming is not at all what we’ve learned in yoga as lion’s pose; this is not an asana for breathwork. Lion’s posture for dreaming is the position we take to influence our mind to experience the dream state as we sleep (as opposed to experiencing the dream state when we are awake). In the Lion’s posture for dreaming, we lie on our right side with the right arm positioned underneath us to allow the right hand to rest comfortably underneath the right cheek. That’s it. Simple. I indulge a bit and place a pillow between my knees and ankles to soften the joint connection in my lower extremities. I also wear and dress my bed with breathable fabrics (this is a personal preference). As a side sleeper, this has taken some getting used to, because I’ve learned to sleep on my left side to encourage digestion; however, lying on my right side now has an intention, so it's just as important.
Patanjali says that dreams are memories that surface while we sleep (at night), and daydreams are memories that surface while we are awake (during the day). For those of us who see daydreaming as a form of escapism from reality, I ask that we all take this with a grain of salt. Intentional daydreaming is also a practice, as is night dreaming. My personal experience has been solely in preparing for a good, deep night's sleep; however, dream yoga can be practiced at any time. There are four steps to the practice of dream yoga: recognizing, transforming, multiplying, and unifying the dream with the luminosity of the true nature, which is the phase immediately after our physical death, during which we face and observe the mind.
Recognizing: Step one of dream yoga
Two essential requirements for recognition are enlightenment and purity. We must embrace both. In which order, however, is probably determined by individual circumstances. Embracing our bodhichitta (our enlightenment) requires that we be filled with love, compassion, and wisdom, and that we offer these qualities to everyone. I suppose we can make it a daily practice to do so and refill ourselves as we go, ensuring we do not deplete our overflow. However, embracing our purity is a more complex endeavor. As a woman who was raised Catholic, I was taught that I was born from sin and instantly impure and doomed to damnation unless I repeatedly repented and atoned for my sins. The amount of work I needed to put into unravelling this belief system took decades, with essential understanding finally sinking deeply and concretely over the past 10 years. Lama Yeshe speaks to our true state of purity in his book Introduction to Tantra: The Transformation of Desire, in which he states:
According to the Buddhist teachings, no matter how confused or deluded we may be at the moment, the underlying and essential nature of our being is clear and pure. In the same way that clouds can temporarily obscure but cannot damage the light-giving power of the sun, so too the temporary affliction of body and mind—our confusion, anxiety, and the suffering they cause—can temporarily obscure but cannot destroy or even touch the fundamentally clear nature of our consciousness. Dwelling deep within our hearts, and within the hearts of all beings without exception, is an inexhaustible source of love and wisdom. And the ultimate purpose of all spiritual practices, whether they are called Buddhist or not, is to uncover and make contact with this essentially pure nature.
When we have developed our own inner purity, inner compassion, and inner love, we can then see the reflection of this purity and loving-kindness in others. But if we have not contacted these qualities within ourselves, we will see everyone as ugly and limited. For whatever we see every day in outer reality is actually nothing more than a projection of our own inner reality.
I’ve bookmarked this passage in Lama Yeshe’s book and refer to it when I need a reminder. To say that we benefit greatly when living from a place of embodied purity is an understatement. Regularly reconnecting with our origins of consciousness is a necessary ritual because we tend to forget and need those reminders. Yes, there is great work to be done to prepare for step one of dream yoga, but in the big picture, learning to observe the mind and the suffering it causes is not an option. We need to develop the skill of observing our thoughts to discern truth from fallacy, understanding that our perceptions (awake or asleep) are the result of our mind. Recognition is entering the dream state, knowing that what we will experience through the mind is a sleeping dream. We can passively drift and observe our dream, or we can learn to navigate and transform it.
Transformation: Step two of dream yoga
I encourage you to explore this skill and develop your own personal understanding of what transformation looks like for you. It can look like becoming an animal, an object, inanimate or alive, anything large or small, with movement, stillness, flying or magical abilities, or both, or everything or anything your imagination can create. It is your dream. You will learn to do what is needed to experience it however you choose. I will speak to my personal experience with dream transformation, which, in my view, was more of a dissection of the meanings of the people, events, and sensations I encountered in certain dreams.
Growing up between Catholic and esoteric spirituality created a perfect environment for developing a vivid imagination, filled with powerful, frightening creatures. I recall having a recurring dream since childhood, a dream I had on average 3 to 4 times per month, about me fighting spiritual battles against demons I did not see but whose presence was very near and real. These are the type of nightmares that make children sleep with the lights on. It's only been 5 years since I learned to transform my dreams. First, I needed to learn to detach from the knee-jerk reactions of fear and hope. Learning to stay with the dream was no easy task. Reading about the Bardos introduced a new vocabulary that complements what I’ve felt all along: fear and hope are reactions that kept me from stepping back and observing the dream, and that limited and even prevented me from fully experiencing the dream in a way that would bring resolution and promote peaceful sleep. Now, with the application of transformation, I perceive dreams as information, not fortunetelling or recurring traumatic events.
Multiplying: Step three of dream yoga
This step enhances step two. Multiplying is exactly what the word states. However, unlike step two, where we practice transforming objects and people, or creating new abilities like flying or breathing fire, when we multiply, we create more of the same. However, these can be multidimensional, multilocational, and multi-phenomenal objects and beings. Imagine creating 100 versions of yourself, each with a special, unique power. In dream yoga, multiplying is like becoming an omnipotent god/goddess. The possibilities are endless.
Unifying the dream with the luminosity of the true nature: Step four of dream yoga
We are right back at the preparation phase of step one: Embracing our true state of purity and enlightenment. The essential skill here is non-attachment. To transform or multiply are optional; we can choose to simply drift on by, observing without goals or interventions. Without striving to be anything, do anything, make anything happen, or avoid happening. It is merely a dream we are having. Therefore, this step reminds us that we can simply observe the mind as it dreams.
I will close by sharing a few fun facts: Paramahansa Yogananda called sleep “the little death,” because while we sleep, life force energy redirects itself inward towards the spine and the brain, no longer fueling the senses (hearing, smelling, tasting, feeling, seeing). When we practice Pratyahara, we actively strive to achieve this state; however, deep restful sleep allows this to happen effortlessly. The collapse of the exoteric (male, yang) and esoteric (female, yin) energies during the death and dying bardo also redirects prana to the Heart Chakra (the house of love and compassion), which is also aligned with the spine.
Post #3 February 20, 2026
Simplifying how meditation falls within the six Bardos, one needs to acknowledge that meditation is one of many things we do while we are alive. We eat, we sleep, we do yoga, breathwork, we hold jobs, raise families, take care of others, and at some point learn that meditation helps us get all that stuff done. However, there is one thing we also need to be mindful of: meditation prepares us to navigate the bardo of the luminosity of the true nature. If you think, or were convinced to believe, that death and dying are the breaking point, you really need to take a close look at what begins to happen during those immediate minutes after the heart stops beating. The soul and mind are still quite active. The mind is definitely filtering and sorting things out. This is where meditation becomes most valuable. To face the demons that continue to exist within the mind, even after the body has released all prana, is not the most popular or mainstream expectation. We’ve all heard about the tunnel, the light at the end of the tunnel, and the feeling of peace and that all is love. We need to talk about the demons we’ve carried, faced, and thought we had successfully exorcised and excommunicated from within. They are still very much engaged in our minds. When we physically undergo death and dying, all we have is what’s in our mind; and how we deal with that or them, those troubling images, thoughts, and confusion, will determine where our soul lands: reintegrating back to the fabric of consciousness or reincarnating in some way, shape, or form. Practicing how to respond to our demons is what meditation gives us, that is, if we learn to meditate while we have the time and opportunity. Because while in that bardo of luminosity of the true nature IS NOT the time to invent a crash course in meditation.
So, with that said, learning how to meditate is important, but learning why one should meditate is more important. We experience a myriad of benefits while still physically functioning in this realm; we learn to be present, grounded, lighter, sleep better, get more done, do less, and, with determination, become the guru with that one-pointed mind, and so forth. However, the true value of this practice lies in the ability to determine what the mind is doing [it is doing its own thing] and how to address it [do nothing at all]. All after we have officially physically died. While sitting at the crossroads of consciousness or reincarnation, we continue to battle the mind as we’ve always done. Or watch the mind play itself out. We choose knowingly or not.
I feel like I’m going in circles. Through meditation, the reactive mind evolves, learns to respond, and finds its position of nonduality by becoming the observer. But the true nature, the part of us that no longer reacts, but observes, can only be carved and polished through a meditation practice, and that sounds like hard work. And nobody wants to work hard at something so weightless, formless, and intangible. It is not a plant you water, fertilize, and repot when it becomes rootbound. It will most likely shrink and shrivel if you do so much with it. Or to it. Meditation is not something you strive for; you cannot work at it like a sport or spelling bee, which defeats the purpose. Because this lovely Universe offers opportunities to step back and observe the mind at least daily, we simply need to remain open and aware. Imagine how many times your patience and composure are tested in a single day: the possibilities for refining this tool are endless. You can choose to react, respond, or simply observe, over and over again, by simply living your life. The more you practice being the observer, the more you prepare to meet your mind within the context of the bardo of the luminosity of the true nature. I may still sound like I’m in a loop, but the message is clear: meditate and face your demons while you are alive so you can learn how to face them again when you’re dead. If you believe in karma and reincarnation, you will see the value in this skill when you find yourself holding the key that stops the cycle of rebirth. Unless, of course, you choose to return again. That may be another topic to consider: When choosing and planning your reincarnation. Another loop.
I admit this topic was exhausting and took much more time and effort to find the words for this post. In an ideal world where we could be in community, I would have said absolutely nothing. Silence would have been the message. But how do we express silence on paper? A blank page perhaps? I’m back in a loop, and I need to stop. Till my next post, my kindred. Namaste!
Post #2 – February 8, 2026
To begin explaining the unfolding of the bardo of death and dying (of the body), we first need to understand the Five Elements and how they manifest within the body: Ether (also referred to as space), Air (also referred to as wind), Fire, Water, and Earth. To do so, I will share a passage from Dr. Vasant Lad’s teachings (see chapter II of his book titled Ayurveda: The Science of Self-Healing, A Practical Guide). Depending on the energy in the room, I begin many of my yoga sessions by reciting this passage. I believe it helps guide students towards a deeper intention for their practice:
“The rishis (truth seers) perceived that in the beginning the world existed in an unmanifested state of consciousness. From that state of unified consciousness, the subtle vibrations of the cosmic soundless sound aum manifested. From that vibration, there first appeared the Ether element. This ethereal element then began to move; its subtle movements created the Air, which is Ether in action. The movement of Ether produced friction, and through that friction, heat was generated. Particles of heat-energy combined to form intense light, and from this light, the Fire element manifested.
Thus, Ether manifested into Air, and it was the same Ether that further manifested into Fire. Through the heat of the Fire, certain ethereal elements dissolved and liquified, manifesting the Water element, and then solidified to form the molecules of Earth. In this way, Ether manifested into the four elements of Air, Fire, Water, and Earth.
From Earth, all organic living bodies, including those in the vegetable kingdom, such as herbs and grains, and those in the animal kingdom, including man, are created. Earth also contains the inorganic substances that comprise the mineral kingdom. Thus, out of the womb of the Five Elements, all matter is born. “
Thinking about the manifestation of the Five Elements in our own bodies, we see how Ether is manifested by a space or cavity (i.e., the space inside our lungs, our digestive tract, our sinuses). An example of the Air element is manifested through our respiration, the winds that bring in necessary oxygen and remove carbon dioxide. Fire is held energetically in the heat of our digestive tract and body temperatures that fluctuate with purpose. The Water element is evident in our bodily fluids, such as tears, saliva, and blood. Earth is everything solid, like our organ systems, muscles and bones. Interestingly, the Five Elements also play a significant role in our sense of well-being, as they heavily influence our Doshas (subtle bodies that we will discuss in detail in a future post).
Understanding how our physical bodies emerge from what seems like nothingness, some call Spirit, others Consciousness, helps us learn to distinguish the physical body from the mind. It is through yoga practice that I learned how to differentiate the physical body from the subtle bodies and the mind, ultimately learning to bring balance and unity among all three. Most yoga classes end with three AUMs. I prefer to begin my yoga sessions with a sea of AUMs to help students establish a connection with this vibration and sink deeper into meditating on its impact at the individual microcosmic level. The question “What am I?” finds its own answer within each student. “I AM” becomes an affirmation that stands on its own without need for additional description. “I AM” becomes a complete statement.
During the dying process of the physical body, the Five Elements once again transform and undergo a sequential collapse. The product of meditating on the origins and manifestations of the Five Elements is learning to embrace rather than resist their transformation. The concluding chapter of Dr. Lad’s aforementioned book provides a beautiful description of this phase, an excerpt borrowed from Stephen Levine’s Who Dies?: An Investigation of Conscious Living and Conscious Dying):
“As death approaches the Earth element, the feeling of the solidity and hardness of the body begins to melt. The body seems very heavy. The boundaries of the body, its edge, are less solid. There is not so much a feeling of being “in” the body.
One is less sensitive to impressions and feelings. One can no longer move the limbs at will. Peristalsis slows; the bowels no longer move without aid. The organs begin to shut down. As the Earth element continues to dissolve into the Water element, there is a feeling of flowingness, a liquidity, as the solidity that has always intensified identification with the body begins to melt, a feeling of fluidity.
As the Water element begins to dissolve into the Fire element, the feeling of fluidity becomes more like a warm mist; The bodily fluids begin to slow, the mouth and eyes become dry, circulation slows, blood pressure drops. As the circulation begins to thicken and stop, blood settles in the lowest extremities. A feeling of lightness ensues.
As the Fire element dissolves into the Air element, feelings of warmth and cold dissipate, physical comfort and discomfort no longer have meaning. The body temperature drops until it reaches a stage where the body begins to cool and becomes pale. Digestion stops. A feeling of lightness, as of heat rising, becomes predominant. A feeling of dissolving into yet subtler and subtler boundarylessness.
As the Air element dissolves into Consciousness itself, there is a feeling of edgelessness. The out breath having become longer than the in breath has dissolved into Space, and there is no longer the experience of bodily form or function but just a sense of vast expanding airiness, a dissolving into pure being.”
Essentially, the physical body's dying is the reversal of its manifestation from consciousness; what arrives in this physical realm one day must return to its place of origin. I know there is ample room for confusion and conflict when terms like consciousness, spirit, mind, air, and space are used interchangeably. However, the essence of the message is that there is an edge that defines where our bodies end and the space outside of our bodies begins. As the dying process progresses, this edge loses its definition. The collapse of one element into the next unfolds energetically within the subtle body as well, as each element has its own energetic weight that directly impacts other elements.
The energetic “wind” effect of the Air element is what moves life force within the body’s energy channels. The initial sign of the dying process (of the body) is a shift in the winds. The winds no longer moving life force at a strong, stable pace create stagnation in energy. This is evidenced by slowed digestion and circulation, reduced cerebrospinal fluid motility, and ineffective breathing patterns, among other signs. The energy channel the winds traverse becomes clogged with stagnant, low-vibration clusters that promote pain, inflammation, and other distressing symptoms. This is why moving Chi energy is essential. This is a time when Reiki is helpful, as it promotes the flow of energy. A person need not be in the dying phase to benefit from Reiki. A person in the dying phase benefits greatly from Reiki, as this has effects that help alleviate discomfort and pain and promote a sense of love and relaxation.
What should we do when we are in the presence of someone in the bardo of death and dying? Bring honor and reverence to their transitioning. Give them space. Give them time. Help move stagnant energy by offering Reiki and healing touch. Do not call them back into their bodies. Do not ask them to squeeze your hand. You are there to comfort them. It is not their responsibility to reassure you by squeezing your hand. Speak soothing, comforting words. Read their favorite poems and literature. Share beautiful, thoughtful memories and uplifting spiritual passages. Encourage them to be curious and to explore their experience, while being supportive in both your words and your composure. They are not leaving their body immediately, even though it may appear to be the case when the heart no longer beats and the “time of death” has been declared. Understand that the body has completed the phase of death and dying. However, the mind and soul continue the journey. And it is at this time that prayer and intercession become most necessary. My next post will discuss the bardo of Meditation, as this is where we learn to develop the insight to navigate the bardo of death and dying. (We will practice gentle compassion with ourselves as we digest this topic in small bites. There is no need to understand or absorb everything. Allow yourselves to leave the rest for another time.) May grace and forgiveness prevail. Namaste.
Post #1 – February 1, 2026
One reason for discussing the bardos is to share my understanding of the soul’s journey relevant to the body’s experience of birth, living, dying and death (of the body), as well as the intermediate state during which the mind (yes our minds are relevant even after death) directs the soul towards or away from reincarnation (although reincarnation may not be accepted by many, we can also view this process in the context of the reincarnation of undesirable characteristics and personality traits within ourselves and others).
I am the youngest daughter of a church lady; the one who is called to pray over the convalescing, the dying, the dead, the buried; the one who leads the Novenas, the one who dashes out of the home after receiving a phone call in the middle of the night, the one who shows up at school at random hours explaining to my teachers why I missed yet another day of grade school. The number of house prayers, funerals, and wakes I attended as a child seems countless. There was a sense of privilege about my multiple unplanned, yet excused, school absences; they were expected and acceptable. Traversing the duality of living life while honoring the definitive process of dying is a lesson I began learning at a very young age. There was never a need to ask questions out of curiosity. I was flung into the abyss of this wisdom just like I was expected to take that first breath upon expulsion from my mother’s womb. It was all very natural, organic, and unquestionable. From childhood, I learned to honor and not to question illness, death, or prayer. I learned the rituals, the songs, the correct timing and length of silent pauses, and the recitation of specific words and their intonations with each bead of the rosary and the cross. Prayer was attached to stages of existence: to physical recovery from illness or surgery, to the soul’s process of departure, to the bridge between the soul’s departure and its final place of rest, to the soul’s travel from embodiment to eternal rest or purgatory or hell, to the memory of the person that soul became while incarnated in our physical realm. So much wisdom ingrained in a 6-year-old's subconscious shaped me into a person who grew up understanding that there was more to death, that somehow, we still needed ritual to help our souls get somewhere after leaving our bodies. As a young girl, I lacked the words to define and identify what was happening and the “why” behind it all, yet that unnamed sense of knowing became a sort of internal weighted compass that has kept me both grounded and segregated from mainstream thought regarding death and dying.
My mother’s passing twenty years ago initiated the rite of passage that transitioned me from a prayer child to a spiritual warrior. It was my yoga practice that held me together during my mother’s final years (which were intensified with acute illness and family disconnectedness). Once her soul had been released from her body, my focus and concerns were not on the funeral arrangements, but on the continued journey of her soul. Many years earlier, my mother expressed a desire for the rituals of her ancestral lineage (including dancing, singing, drumming, and celebration). My family (rigid followers of the catholic tradition) would not honor her wishes, and years later, I found myself performing these rituals on my own, albeit not fully understanding the power behind this practice. I later learned that praying for the soul of the dearly departed wasn’t performed solely by Catholics and esoteric spiritualists, but by a myriad of other cultures and belief systems. This experience connected me worldwide with others who also honor the soul's journey. I have kept this intention alive throughout the years, making meditation an essential part of my yoga practice and my daily life, embracing the stillness and weightlessness it brings me. Yoga became the roadmap to my meditative state. Meditation became as natural and organic as eating and sleeping; an inner space I access to harness peace, tranquility, wholeness, clarity, and resilience.
Over the years, through deeper self-seeking and learning, I would come to see that meditation, like dreaming, is a component of the Bardos. The six main Bardos describe the phases or periods of the soul. These include the bardo of birth and life, the bardo of the dream state, the bardo of meditation, the bardo of dying, the bardo of the luminosity of the true nature, and the bardo of becoming. Mindfulness exercises help us ground, settle our minds, and build awareness of ourselves and our environment by tuning into our five senses. Meditation, however, requires that we minimize or even pause these sensory connections. Thus, a yogi can learn to withdraw from the five senses. This practice is called Pratyahara. During the dying process (of the body), there is a distinct sequence of sensory withdrawal that occurs as the body’s systems collapse. My next post will explain this process. Until then, I hope you take this information in small bites, as I am sharing life experience and wisdom I’ve gained over 50+ years of living…and learning. Namaste <3