Bardo

Beloved Osho, I've always been fascinated by the state of bardo as described in ancient tibetan scriptures. Could you say something about this?

Bardo is a simple method but with great significance. Only people who have meditated a little bit in their lives can be benefited by it, and Tibet was one of the countries where almost everybody was devoting some time to meditation -- just to be alone, silent, not doing anything, just witnessing. If such a person does not achieve enlightenment in his life, and death intervenes, then bardo is used. Such a man has achieved a certain opening of the door. He has not entered in, but he has at least tried; he has knocked on the door. He has a certain receptivity, and at the time of death he is absolutely willing to go into a state of meditation. Now there is nothing to be afraid of. Death has already come; he can risk everything. And bardo is a certain soft method of hypnosis... just the way I am…

In Tibet they endeavor to prevent the dying person from slipping into deep sleep. If he falls into deep sleep, the memory of this life will be erased. To keep his memory of this life intact, special experiments are done at the dying man’s side. Through these methods, they try to keep the person deliberately awake. Not only to keep him awake, but to consciously generate dream within him—so that the dream continues, continues, and his death occurs while in the dream state. If death occurs in the state of dream, that person is born in the next life carrying all the memories of his previous life. Understand it this way and it will be easier. Throughout the night you dream—but perhaps you will not believe this. Many people say they do not dream. They simply do not know. Many say, “I dream sometimes.” They simply do not remember.

Osho, when the soul leaves the body and has not yet assumed another one, is it possible to describe what happens in that timeless interval, and the kind of environment in which it moves? And, along with this, since you have spoken of the soul’s freedom to take birth by its own will, does it also have the freedom to leave the body whenever it wishes—or not to leave it?

If you look at descriptions of hell’s fire, you’ll find this: people are burned in the fire, yet they do not burn up. The inconsistency doesn’t occur to you at that time—that you are being burned, the fire is terrible, the heat unbearable, yet you are not actually burning! That inconsistency may occur later, not in the midst of it. In the interval between two bodies there are two kinds of souls. First, those very bad souls for whom finding a womb will take time; I call them pretas. Second, the good souls for whom finding a suitable womb will also take time; they need a worthy womb—I call them devas. There is no fundamental difference in species—only differences of personality, character, quality of mind. Their experiences are different. The bad souls come back from this interval with such painful memories that the memory itself is the fruit called hell.…

A friend has asked, Osho, one can die with awareness, but how can one be born with awareness?

Most fasters spend twenty-four hours repeating, “I am hungry; I have not eaten,” with their minds absorbed in planning tomorrow’s menu. Then the fast is wasted; it is merely a hunger-strike. That is the difference: a hunger-strike means not eating; upavasa means “dwelling nearer and nearer.” Nearer to whom? To oneself. Away from the body, closer to the self. Even the word upavasa carries no implication of starving; it means nearer-dwelling. Thus one could be in upavasa even while eating—if one knows the eating is at a distance and “I am elsewhere.” And one could not be in upavasa even while not eating—if one keeps thinking, “I am hungry; I’m dying of hunger.” Upavasa is a psychological knowing of one’s separateness from hunger. Other sufferings too can be invited voluntarily. A man can even lie on thorns, simply to see that the thorns do not pierce me; they pierce elsewhere,…