Bardo – Something Really In-Between

Before COVID times I was listening to a podcast about meditation (because why meditate when you can listen to other people talk about meditating) when the woman introduced this interesting term, “bardo” which she defined as meaning “in-between.”

In-Between!

Well, considering that this is the In-Between Things it certainly seems like the right place to explore the concept of bardo. I decided that I needed to look into this it further, did a little bit of research, and left my notes sitting in my draft folder.

Until now.

Bardo Thödol is a Tibetan Buddhist funerary text that is popularly known in Western culture as the Tibetan Book of the Dead. This text describes the process through which a recently deceased person transitions from their current state of being to the next. The occurs in an in-between state, bardo, which is similar to the Roman Catholic concept of purgatory.

Applied metaphorically, bardo can describe many sorts of in-between situations. Any time there is a suspension in the way of being that we are familiar with we are experiencing bardo.

COVID times certainly qualify, wouldn’t you agree?

The Four Noble Truths, a central tenant in Buddhist teaching, explain that the root of suffering is desire for and attachment to worldly things. When we experience bardo, we become detached from our usual way of being, including the accompanying suffering.

But you know what we feel is worse than our regular, everyday suffering? The unknown!

Think about someone you know who is always complaining about something. You wonder why they continue fill-in-the-blank rather than change. When you say something, they usually reply beginning with, “yeah, but…”

This is because in-between-ness is uncomfortable. Bardo puts us in a position where we are confronted with considering other ways. We must mind the gap as it were.

What if, in that in-between space, instead of reacting negatively, we withhold judgement of the discomfort?

We may discover an opportunity for something new.

The gap gives us the cognitive distance to consider things from a new perspective. We may have a flash of insight or creativity or we may gain clarity about things that we are allowing to be causes of our suffering.

And this is why I wanted to dust off this topic at this time. The past year was certainly bardo, the entire world’s usual way of being was suspended. Now that things are beginning to stabilize, many are looking to get back to our old ways of being and doing. But it would be unfortunate to not take advantage of this bardo to make some conscious choices about the sorts of suffering we hold on to.

Maybe being in-between this past year wasn’t all bad.

The Spirit Moves Me Elsewhere

Long story short: I participated in an Apache, Two-Spirit, all women sweat lodge ceremony last weekend.  It was very cool (actually it was very hot) – there was singing songs and what I would call dharma sharing and lots and lots of sweating.  So much sweating.

The woman leading the lodge was very easy going. She instructed us as to the proper way to do something (entering the lodge for example) and they she would say that if we felt that we needed to do that thing another way, that was okay.

One of the instructions was that if we ever felt like we were over heated and wanted to get out of the lodge before the end of the ceremony, all we had to say was that, “the spirit moves me elsewhere.”

Some of the women participating in the lodge did decide to step out at different points of the ceremony. They all said the phrase as they exited the lodge.

After the ceremony, I was talking with the friends who I had gone with (they always know where to find the fun woo woo things to do) and we started talking about the phrase, “the spirit moves me elsewhere.”

It seems to me that this phrase may have terrific application in all sorts of life situations, not just sweat lodge ceremonies.

Think about it: anytime you find yourself in an unpleasant situation or even just can’t find an easy way to wrap up a conversation, you can deploy this phrase and leave.  Maybe you’re at a cocktail party and you’re just done talking to someone, use this phrase to extract yourself.  You don’t even have to actually leave, just move to a different part of the room.  Whatever it is you could just say, “the spirit moves me elsewhere,” and move.  No more awkward goodbyes.  It’s brilliant.

Think about it. I really don’t see any situation where anyone can challenge that statement.

As I write this, it reminds me about an old story from this place where I used to work.  There was this gal who had worked there before me (this is one of those old, workplace legends), and one day it was either freezing cold (it was often freezing cold in that office) or the air conditioning wasn’t working … something like that.  At one point, this gal just gets up, states, “I can’t work under these conditions,” grabs her bag and leaves. Like really leaves.  Like goes home for the day.  It still makes me giggle just thinking about it now.

What makes this story even more delightful is the fact that we were subject to a very strict time-keeping policy in that office and the idea that someone would just get up and leave is beyond the pale.  I’ll tell you what, there were more than a few times when I wished I could have said, “I can’t work under these conditions,” and left.

Sometimes, you just have to go. 

The spirit moves me elsewhere.

Mind the Gap

I was walking and listening to my current favorite podcast, Earth Tribe Radio. Fiona and Jill are wonderfully wacky ladies who make my walks terribly interesting. I started listening to them because they had an episode about how cats are psychic. You know that got my attention!

The particular episode that inspired today’s post was about meditation and mindfulness. They often bring up an idea that sparks something for me to mull over while I walk and, in this episode, it was when Fiona suggested that another word to use when considering this concept is “awareness.” They expanded on that thought, talking about finding little moments throughout the day to be mindful rather than having dogmatic expectations about when and how someone should meditate.

Fiona presented her technique of “stop, drop, and go” that involves just taking a moment to appreciate what is going on around you and then continuing with what you are doing.  Jill shared a similar technique where you exhale and then intentionally pause for a moment before inhaling.  While she was describing this, the term that sprang to my mind was “mind the gap.”

I know that is not what the original “mind the gap” is about, but I think this is an effective appropriation of familiar aphorism. Why not use “mind the gap” as a mindfulness prompt? Don’t you think that it would make a great slogan for a t-shirt or a wrist tattoo? 

Minding the gap is using that pause as a moment of awareness.  I like the idea of using moments of interest throughout your day to be present.  I mean, I can’t be completely tuned in to everything all day long, I’d never get anything done!  Being open to taking moments to notice wonderful, little things here and there though can be enough to create a sense of calmness, of centeredness, of connectedness.

As I was contemplating “mind the gap” as an awareness practice, I noticed this very interesting rock and had to stop.

My initial reaction was that I wanted to grab it.  But why did I feel the need to possess this interesting rock?  I mean, I like a magic rock as much as the next girl, but I also try to respect the sovereignty of objects out in the world.  When I notice a beautiful flower, I take a photo rather than picking it.  Why shouldn’t I show this rock the same respect?  I refrained from picking up the rock but did stop and take a photo of it.

And then I was on my way.  I had minded the gap, given this rock some attention, and returned to my business.

We don’t have to change our path or our intention every time something catches our attention.  We also don’t have to go through our lives with blinders on to all the fascinating things around us. If we mind the gap, we can enjoy those small moments of appreciation without getting sidetracked.