How A Spirit Chooses Next Parents & Soulmate After Death (Simply Explained)
How A Spirit Chooses Next Parents & Soulmate After Death (Simply Explained)
Do you know where our spirit goes when we die? What if your death is an illusion and the real you has never been born, never died, and never truly existed in the way you think? The truth is, you have already died countless times. What you fear is not death itself but the unknown path your soul takes afterwards. If you fail to recognize the luminous light of death, you will be trapped in an endless cycle of birth and death. Heaven and Hell are not external places; they are states of consciousness you will experience after death based on these things. These are the secrets we will uncover in a minute.
For millennia, death has been called the great unknown, but death is not a mystery; it is a passage. Imagine consciousness itself transcending the physical body, unfazed by the end of flesh and blood. It is the soul’s awakening, the moment when the spark within us is freed from its earthly shell. The Tibetans saw death not as an end but as a continuation, a path back to the source of all being, and that source is you. Through death, the soul enters states of profound mystery called the Bardo, a hidden realm where the very fabric of existence unfolds.
In mystical traditions, death is rarely seen as a cessation; it is instead understood as a transition, a movement of consciousness from one state to another, much like the metamorphosis of a caterpillar into a butterfly. Death is a shedding of the old and a birth into a new form of existence. Mystics and sages throughout history have described death as a journey across a sacred threshold, leading the soul from the dense physical world into subtler realms where it can undergo further experiences, purifications, and learning.
In esoteric philosophy, death is described as a return, a pilgrimage back to the source. This return allows the soul to shed the material burdens accumulated over a lifetime and return to its essence—a pure consciousness that exists beyond space and time. The cycle of birth and death, or samsara, is a process of refinement. Each death is an opportunity to evolve spiritually, to approach closer to the ultimate realization of one’s true nature, and to break free from the cycle of reincarnation known as the wheel of samsara.
According to many ancient texts, including the Tibetan Book of the Dead, consciousness is not merely a product of the brain or physical body; it is a universal principle, an eternal spark that connects every living being to a vast cosmic intelligence. In this view, consciousness survives physical death and remains intact, journeying through various planes of existence. Mystical traditions often describe consciousness as the soul or spirit, a boundless awareness that transcends the temporary and material nature of the physical form. This enduring essence of consciousness is what travels through different realms or states after death. Mystics believe that consciousness is an infinite field and that life itself is an expression of this field, manifesting temporarily in physical form. The death experience is simply consciousness withdrawing from the physical shell to reemerge in its pure form.
But what is the purpose of knowing what happens after death? For ancient cultures, understanding death was as crucial as understanding life itself. Death is not merely a topic of curiosity but a profound means to understand the nature of existence and purpose. The Tibetan Book of the Dead, along with other mystical texts, serves as a guide for the dying process, designed to assist the soul in achieving liberation and avoiding the pitfalls of fear, attachment, and ignorance that bind it to further cycles of birth and death. Preparation for death is considered essential, as the mindset and consciousness of the moment of death are believed to have a significant impact on the soul’s journey beyond. By mastering an awareness of death, individuals can become liberated from the fear of it, achieving an inner freedom that enhances the spiritual journey both in life and in the afterlife.
“Bardo” means “between.” In Tibetan mysticism, Bardo means “intermediate state” or “in-between state.” The Bardo refers to various transitional realms that the soul navigates not only after death but also during other transitional moments in life. Each Bardo serves as an opportunity for transformation, growth, and transcendence. The Bardo is a place of liminality, a moment when the usual boundaries of time, identity, and material reality are suspended, allowing the soul to perceive reality from a broader, more profound perspective.
There are different types of Bardo states. The Tibetan Book of the Dead outlines six Bardos, each corresponding to a stage of consciousness that presents a unique set of experiences and opportunities for liberation. The very first state of the Bardo states is the natural Bardo of this life. This is the Bardo experienced during our waking life where we are actively shaping our consciousness and karmic patterns. This stage offers the most profound opportunity for preparation as it allows us to work with our consciousness directly through meditation, ethical living, and detachment.
The second state of the Bardo states is the painful Bardo of dying. This is the stage when the soul begins to separate from the physical body. This Bardo marks the beginning of the soul’s journey where each element—earth, water, fire, air, and space—dissolves, and the individual begins experiencing detachment from physical sensations. It is a time of powerful visions and sensations, often described as challenging and disorienting as the final moments of life approach. Tibetan teachings describe a journey through dissolution, a gradual unraveling of the body, mind, and self. This process unfolds like a sequence of doorways, each opening into a more subtle realm of awareness as the physical body fades and the energetic core begins its release.
Here, death is not simply an end but a profound mystical passage. The journey begins with the earth dissolving into water. The body, once strong and steady, now feels frail. Strength slips away, and a sense of weight and gravity overtakes it, as if the person is sinking or being gently compressed. This heaviness, however, is not merely physical; it is the body’s farewell to the stability it has always known. As water dissolves into fire, bodily fluids dry up and a growing thirst signals the start of this inner drought. Warmth begins to fade from the hands, feet, and face, slowly retreating inward. The individual may feel a dimming, as if life itself were withdrawing, moving closer to the center.
Next, fire dissolves into air, and here, warmth fully departs the body. A coolness settles, and with it, visions may come: flickering lights, sparks, or vague, undulating shapes that float before the mind’s eye. It is as though the inner fire, the spark of life, is surrendering itself, leaving only a gentle breath. With the fading of air into space, breathing becomes shallow, light as a whisper. Thoughts and sensations drift, scattered like leaves on a windless day. In these moments, the mind begins to sense a vast emptiness, an all-encompassing quiet. As perceptions blur, a sense of boundless space expands, as if the self is slowly melting into the great unknown. Finally, space dissolves into pure consciousness, and all that remains is awareness—bare and boundless, freed from the body, the mind, and identity itself.
This consciousness is described as a luminous, radiant presence. It is an opening, a last precious gateway into the realm beyond form. Tibetan wisdom teaches that this moment is sacred, a threshold where the consciousness can perceive its truest nature, luminous and vast. For those trained in these teachings, death is not feared but approached with deep reverence as an opportunity for liberation. If in these fleeting moments one can recognize the light of pure awareness, they may transcend the cycle of rebirth and suffering, merging with an endless, profound peace. This is the ultimate passage, a journey of transformation through dissolution where what remains is a glimmer of the eternal.
The third state of the Bardo states is the luminous Bardo of dharmata. In this Bardo, the soul encounters the clear light of reality, a pure non-dual light that represents the ultimate truth. Here, the potential for liberation is highest. If the soul can recognize this light as its own nature, it can achieve instantaneous liberation. However, if it does not recognize it, it moves into more differentiated visions of peaceful and wrathful deities. In the Tibetan teachings, the luminous Bardo of dharmata unfolds as a realm of pure light, a stage in the journey after death where the soul confronts the very essence of reality itself.
Here, the clear light, a radiant non-dual awareness, emerges as the ultimate truth. It is vast, formless, and free from the illusion of identity—a light so pure that it transcends all worldly constraints. For those who are prepared, this light is not an external phenomenon but the reflection of their own deepest nature, a gateway to enlightenment itself. At this threshold, liberation can occur in an instant. Should the soul recognize the clear light as its own true essence, freedom from the cycle of birth and death is realized, and the soul is liberated. But this recognition is not so simple. It requires complete detachment from the habits, thoughts, and attachments that have accumulated over lifetimes. Fear, often born of the unknown, must be overcome, and the mind must remain open, unclouded by the illusions it has created.
For most, however, the dharmata is not so clear. As the clear light begins to fade, the soul often experiences vivid visions: deities, both peaceful and wrathful. These are not external entities but symbolic reflections of the soul’s own karma, emotions, and consciousness. These figures are projections of the mind, and through them, the soul is given an opportunity to recognize the nature of its own illusions. Each vision, whether serene or fearsome, is a reflection of the soul’s internal state and a chance to release the patterns that bind it. Yet, this is not an easy task. The primary obstacle in this Bardo is fear, ignorance, and attachment. When the clear light fades, many souls fall into confusion, unable to see the light for what it truly is. Instead, they become trapped in their own projections, drawn back into the cycles of rebirth, repeating old patterns of suffering. The teachings of the Tibetan Book of the Dead offer guidance in these moments—prayers and instructions to remind the soul to let go, to see these visions as nothing more than illusions of the mind, and to return to the radiant awareness that is always present.
The fourth state of the Bardo states is the karmic Bardo of becoming. If liberation is not attained in the dharmata Bardo, the soul enters the Bardo of becoming where it is drawn to rebirth. This stage is governed by karmic forces, and the soul is pulled toward new parents and circumstances based on its past actions and unresolved attachments. The journey through the karmic Bardo of becoming is an intricate dance of energies, a process where the soul is drawn into its next incarnation by the powerful pull of its past actions, thoughts, and intentions. This realm, shaped by karma, is not simply a place of judgment but a space where the soul continues its evolution, guided by the unseen forces of its own past.
As the soul leaves the physical body, it enters a state where it is magnetically attracted to realms that mirror the frequency of its accumulated karma. The forces at work in this Bardo are not random but are deeply tied to the purity or distortion of the soul’s intentions over countless lifetimes. A soul that has acted with compassion, love, and truth is gently drawn toward higher, more harmonious planes of existence where peace and spiritual growth are more readily accessible. Conversely, a soul that has been driven by fear, hatred, or ignorance is pulled into denser realms where suffering persists—not as a punishment, but as a catalyst for learning and transformation. The Tibetan teachings reveal that this pull is not about retribution but about the soul’s need to confront unresolved energies and continue its journey toward liberation.
In the karmic Bardo, the subtle mind of the deceased is surrounded by vivid mental impressions, samsaras, that echo the desires, fears, and attachments from past lives. These impressions become like seeds, carrying the karmic energies of unresolved emotions, relationships, and experiences. Attachments to loved ones, material wealth, or fleeting pleasures from the previous life pull the soul back into circumstances where these desires may be realized once more, though often in a way that cannot provide lasting fulfillment. These desires become binding forces, trapping the soul in the cycle of rebirth and keeping it tethered to the unresolved past.
As the soul progresses through this state, it begins to encounter visions of potential parents, images shaped by the soul’s karmic resonance. These are not random encounters but luminous impressions reflecting the vibrational qualities of both the soul and the parents it is drawn to. At this point, the soul has some semblance of choice, though it is often constrained by the gravitational pull of its own karma. The soul may feel a magnetic attraction or an aversion to certain parents based on the karmic patterns it still needs to resolve. However, advanced souls—those who have achieved spiritual awareness—may have more agency in this process, consciously choosing the conditions that will most effectively aid their journey toward liberation.
Yet even as the soul approaches its new birth, there remains a veil of forgetfulness, a natural barrier that erases the conscious memory of past lives. This veil is often seen as merciful, allowing the soul to engage fully in its current life without the burdens of past traumas or unresolved experiences. Without this forgetfulness, the soul could be overwhelmed by the weight of its history, preventing it from fully embracing the lessons of the present incarnation. But the veil is not absolute. In moments of deep introspection, in dreams, or in flashes of intuition, hints of past lives may emerge, offering glimpses of unresolved karma or latent abilities carried over from previous incarnations. Spiritual practices such as meditation can also help pierce through the veil, allowing advanced practitioners to access past life memories and insights that guide their spiritual evolution.
The karmic Bardo of becoming is a realm of both mystery and opportunity. It is the space where the soul is continually drawn toward its next incarnation by the invisible forces of karma, where it encounters visions of potential parents and begins to experience the subtle energies that shape its future. In this journey, the soul is both guided and constrained by its past, but it is always moving towards an eventual reunion with its truest, highest nature.
The fifth state of the Bardo states is the Bardo of dream. This refers to the intermediate state experienced in sleep, which mirrors death in its experience of temporary separation from the body. Dream practice, as part of Bardo training, is used as preparation, teaching one how to recognize the illusory nature of existence and achieve lucidity.
The sixth and last state of the Bardo states is the Bardo of meditation. This Bardo pertains to the meditative states one can achieve in life where a practitioner experiences the clear light of awareness and the dissolution of egoic boundaries. In advanced meditation, individuals can experience states that mimic the post-death Bardos, which helps them prepare for the actual experience of death.
To fully grasp the magnitude of these transitions, one must understand that the soul is not a static entity but a dynamic process of unfolding awareness. Throughout the Bardo experience, the mind acts as a projector and the soul as the viewer. The landscapes of the afterlife, whether they appear as celestial paradises or terrifying underworlds, are fundamentally expressions of the consciousness that created them. This is the cornerstone of the Tibetan perspective: nothing exists outside of the mind’s grasp. By realizing this, the soul can begin to untether itself from the projections that sustain the cycle of samsara.
Consider the moment of death as a master key. While the body sleeps or dies, the coarse, material level of the mind—the level tied to sensory input and biological drives—recedes. This leaves the subtle and then the very subtle mind exposed. In these layers lie the deep-seated impressions, or vasanas, that have been collecting since the beginning of time. These impressions are the architects of your next existence. If your consciousness is focused on anger, greed, or ignorance during the final moments of the Bardo transition, these frequencies become the blueprints for your next physical manifestation. Conversely, if your consciousness is trained in equanimity, devotion, or wisdom, you navigate the Bardo with a compass that points toward higher realms.
This is why the practice of “dying while living” is so vital. By engaging in spiritual exercises that simulate the dissolution of the elements—earth into water, water into fire, and so on—the seeker desensitizes the ego to the shock of physical termination. You are essentially rehearsing for the greatest audition of your existence. You learn that the “I” you identify with—the name, the history, the social status—is merely a costume. When the costume is stripped away at death, the actor behind the mask remains. The Bardo teachings serve to remind the actor of their true nature before they are forced into a new costume.
Think of the karmic pull as a gravity of the spirit. Just as a planet orbits a star because of mass and distance, a soul orbits a specific quality of life because of the “weight” of its unresolved actions. If you have spent a lifetime clinging to material security, the Bardo of becoming will feel like a cold void where you desperately seek the warmth of another material body to hide in. You will be drawn to parents who can provide the very same material comforts you were obsessed with in your previous life. It is a loop of your own making. To break the loop, one must practice the art of letting go while the heart is still beating.
The phenomenon of the “veil of forgetfulness” is perhaps the most misunderstood aspect of reincarnation. We often see it as a loss, a tragic disconnection from our origins. However, the mystical perspective views it as a necessary blank slate. If we were to carry the full weight of every error, every heartbreak, and every victory from a thousand lifetimes into our current consciousness, we would be paralyzed. The present life acts as a laboratory, a localized and simplified space where we can tackle specific karmic lessons without the distraction of our entire history. The forgetfulness is the mercy that allows us to love, to learn, and to start anew without being crushed by the past.
Furthermore, the visions of peaceful and wrathful deities found in the Bardo are crucial to examine. They are archetypal representations of the soul’s own internal dynamics. A wrathful deity may appear as a monster, an angry force, or a punishing figure. In reality, this is the soul’s own suppressed anger and fear manifesting as an objective threat. The soul, having lost its physical anchor, does not realize that the monster is made of the same substance as the clear light of dharmata. If the soul flees in terror, it remains in the cycle. If the soul realizes, “This is only the movement of my own mind,” the monster dissolves instantly into the brilliance of the clear light. It is an exercise in total accountability. Everything you encounter in the transition is a reflection of yourself.
As we look toward the future, we must realize that death is the only certainty we have. Modern society has largely sanitized death, turning it into a medical event to be avoided or hidden away in sterile rooms. This is a profound error. By isolating ourselves from the reality of death, we isolate ourselves from the greatest truth of our existence. The ancient wisdom preserved in the Bardo traditions offers a radical alternative: embrace death, study its passage, and turn your fear into a bridge.
The journey of the soul is not a linear progression from A to B; it is a spiral. We revisit the same themes, the same fears, and the same opportunities until we resolve them. Each life is a turn of the wheel. The Bardo of becoming is the gap between the turns. Within that gap lies your agency. While it is true that past actions (karma) set the stage, your attitude in the Bardo—your ability to maintain clarity amidst the chaos—determines the script for the next act.
Ultimately, the goal of these teachings is to reach a state of consciousness so luminous, so aligned with the source, that the cycle of rebirth becomes irrelevant. This is the state of the enlightened being who enters the Bardo not as a helpless victim of their own karma, but as a master of their own consciousness. They see the clear light, they recognize it, and they remain in it. The light is not a place you go to; it is the truth of what you have always been, obscured for a time by the dance of the physical world.
As you navigate your current life—the natural Bardo—remember that every thought, every intent, and every attachment is a seed being planted for the Bardo of becoming. If you desire a different afterlife, do not look for a different destination; look for a different way of being. Cultivate peace, foster detachment from the material, and deepen your awareness. By doing so, you are not just living; you are preparing. You are making your death a masterpiece.
Consider the profound nature of time in these realms. In the Bardo, time as we know it—measured by clocks and calendars—does not exist. It is a duration of consciousness. A single thought can seem to last an eternity, and eons can flash by in what feels like a blink. This fluidity is why internal discipline is the only thing that matters. You cannot take your bank account, your reputation, or your physical beauty into the Bardo. You can only take your state of mind. Your “internal luggage” is all that survives the threshold. Is your luggage light? Or is it weighted down by the iron chains of unfulfilled desire and regret?
To clear this luggage while still in the body is the highest work. This involves the systematic dismantling of the egoic structures that we mistake for “self.” Meditation is the primary tool for this. When you sit in silence, you are essentially practicing the Bardo. You are witnessing your thoughts arise and dissolve, realizing that they are not the truth of your being. When a thought of fear arises, you acknowledge it, observe its illusory nature, and watch it fade back into the silence. This is the exact rehearsal for the Bardo of dharmata. If you can do this in life, you can do it in death.
Many ask about the role of love in this process. Love is the bridge. Attachments based on ego—the need for others to fulfill our happiness—are binding forces, but pure, selfless love—the kind that seeks the good of the other without demand—is a liberating frequency. It aligns the soul with the harmony of the universe. In the Bardo of becoming, the magnetic pull toward a new birth can be softened and directed by the power of love. It can pull the soul toward environments that are conducive to further spiritual growth, effectively “tuning” the next life to be more favorable.
Even in the most difficult circumstances, there is hope. The Tibetan teachings insist that even at the very last moment, a change in mindset can alter the trajectory of the soul. No one is ever truly beyond the reach of the light. The capacity to awaken is inherent in every being, regardless of their past. This is the most compassionate aspect of the teaching: it does not judge the soul, it merely explains the mechanics of the journey. You are the architect, the passenger, and the destination.
As we conclude this exploration, take a moment to reflect on the fragility and the immense power of your own consciousness. You are a visitor in this physical dimension. You have been here before, and you will be here again, unless you choose to transcend the cycle. The knowledge of the Bardos is not intended to make you morbid or obsessed with dying. On the contrary, it is intended to make you fully alive. It is intended to strip away the trivial worries that cloud your day and force you to confront what is truly essential.
The path you take after death is paved by the choices you make today. Every act of kindness, every moment of genuine self-awareness, and every practice of letting go is a contribution to your ultimate journey. You are weaving your own afterlife. You are crafting the bridge that will carry you through the great dissolution and into the light. Do not look to the external for salvation; look inward to the source. The light that you search for in the Bardo is already burning within you. Recognize it now, before the final threshold, and you will find that the great unknown is, and has always been, your own true home.
In the coming segments of this series, we will delve deeper into the specific meditative practices that allow one to gain control over these states while still in the body. We will explore the mechanics of “Phowa”—the transference of consciousness—and the various techniques for achieving the clear light of awareness in the midst of daily challenges. This is not just a study of death; it is the ultimate manual for the mastery of life itself. The journey of the soul is a long one, but it is a journey toward the realization of your own divinity. Keep the flame of awareness bright, for it is the only lantern you will have when the shadows of the physical world finally lengthen and fade.
The understanding of these realms also requires us to reconsider our relationship with pain and joy. In the physical world, we spend our lives chasing the latter and running from the former. But in the Bardo, both are merely sensations of the mind. The ability to remain unswayed by them, to maintain a “witness consciousness,” is what separates the masters from the rest of the wandering souls. This is the ultimate equanimity. To look upon the greatest joy and the deepest agony with the same calm, detached eye is to be free. It is this freedom that the Bardo traditions seek to cultivate.
When we talk about “liberation,” we are talking about the permanent state of that freedom. It is the end of the struggle, the end of the cycle of “becoming,” and the end of the need to return to the density of the physical. It is the return to the oceanic consciousness from which all individual drops—all souls—have emerged. Many call this heaven, others call it Nirvana, but these are just labels for a state of existence that defies description. It is the state of being one with the infinite.
So, as you go about your life, remember the Bardo. Let it be a gentle whisper in the back of your mind. When you face a difficulty, ask yourself, “Is this a Bardo test?” When you find yourself overly attached to a material object or a specific outcome, realize that this is a rehearsal for the attachments that will trap you later. Practice the art of release. Practice the art of finding the light in the middle of your daily struggles. You are preparing for the greatest moment of your journey. You are preparing for the ultimate return.
Our series on the nature of the soul and the secrets of the Bardo is only beginning. There is much to uncover regarding the maps of the afterlife and the techniques that have guided seekers for generations. The wisdom is ancient, but it is as relevant today as it was in the caves of the Himalayas centuries ago. Your consciousness is the key. Your awareness is the path. Your realization is the destination. Stay tuned as we continue to shine the light on these profound mysteries, and continue to explore the sacred architecture of your own eternal journey. The veil is thinner than you think, and the truth is closer than your own breath. May you find the clarity to recognize it.
