Where We're Going (Afterlife-wise)

What happens next?

Thomas Harkrader Pine 1986-2015

Has a recently departed loved one touched you in some way? Were you certain about it at the time? And did you eventually push the experience to the back of your mind? Did you avoid talking about it? My answer is yes to all four questions. I thought I was too rational to let my mind or my mouth stray into Woo-Woo Land, even though I’d had several glimpses of it. I practiced a mindfulness-based form of Buddhism but avoided anything esoteric, like the Tibetan path.

That changed for me after 1:50 A.M. on June 1, 2015. That’s when I awoke from a deep sleep with a jolt of anxiety more acute than any I could remember. I checked the time. I was reluctant to take an anti-anxiety drug for fear of sleeping late in the morning. Then I remembered it was Sunday, and my anxiety was so strong I doubted I could return to sleep without the pill, so I took it.

I did wake up on time, which was good because, at exactly 8 A.M., two Loudoun County (Virginia) deputy sheriffs rang the doorbell to tell my wife and me that our son Thomas had died after falling off his skateboard in Charlottesville, more than 100 miles away. Later, when the details became clear, we learned that he had died almost instantly at 1:50 A.M. of blunt-force trauma to the head — the time of my anxiety jolt.

It didn’t end there. For months afterward, I felt his presence as I launched a spiritually oriented blog. He loved to write, and I’d had a previous career in the field, so it was a good match. He spurred me on. As a result, I opened up to believing in and talking about my experiences. Less than eight months later, I took Refuge and the Bodhisattva Vow of Vajrayana (Tibetan) Buddhism. And here I am nine years later, certain that I already live in a Pure Land.

In a previous post here, I made what I consider a rational case for Woo-Woo Land. We all exist and interact in a complex network of interconnection. Our bodies get recycled after we die. Why not the unembodied parts of us as well? But what form do they take?

While I’ll use Buddhist language for what I’m about to say, it may apply to your beliefs as well. Just bear with me for the next two paragraphs.

As is well known, we Tibetan Buddhists believe in rebirth, but what is it that’s reborn? The self is illusory since we’re just collections of atoms and molecules that change from moment to moment, and our minds also change from moment to moment. Different Buddhist teachers use different terms for what it is that gets reborn. I’ll call it our pure awareness — a non-dualistic state of consciousness. Along with that comes our karma — the imprint of what we and previous holders of that awareness have done and what has been done to us.¹

The most prominent form of rebirth among Vajrayana Buddhists is a tulku — an emanation of an enlightened being. You may have heard stories about how the current (14th) Dalai Lama was found. But the vast majority of rebirths are as other less exalted beings. I’ll skip the details about how the transition from death to rebirth is said to work. If you’d like to read more, I’d recommend the autobiographical account of a near-death experience written by a highly realized tolku. It’s In Love With the World: A Monk’s Journey Through the Bardos of Living and Dying by Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche.

Mel’s “Endless Knot” pendant symbolizing the interconnectedness of all things

Some other religions, mostly Eastern ones, believe in rebirth, but many Western religions and Western rationalists do not. Western beliefs, of course, generally involve a specific or more general sense of Heaven and Hell for those who believe in an afterlife at all.

Now let’s return to the rational case for an afterlife like the one made by Bernardo Kastrup, which I described very briefly in my post Life, Death, and Afterlife.

After all, we exist in a sea of particles, some of which appear in forms visible to us and many of which do not appear to us at all. It’s not at all illogical to believe that our minds make actual or metaphorical waves in that sea that ripple out to others, and the waves of others reach us. Then, at least some aspect of the mind is not fully incorporated within our bodies and doesn’t die with the body.

All we know about “reality” is what our mind perceives, and increasingly, science is questioning whether what we perceive has definite properties independent of our perceptions. So, the mind may indeed create reality, and many of us sense the same reality only because we agree on how to describe it.

If I haven’t lost you so far, I’m about to unveil my own theory about the afterlife:

What happens to us after death is determined, at least in part, not only by how we live but also by the culture that formed our sense of reality and by our deeply held beliefs about the afterlife.

If I’m right about that, a sincere Vajrayana Buddhist is likely to enter some sort of rebirth and a devout Christian some version of Heaven or Hell. A rationalist may find himself floating in an undifferentiated “Mind.”

I know that’s a lot to take in from a guy with no credentials in religion, philosophy, or science. So consider my thoughts as those of just another old fart approaching his own demise. But please do consider them.

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Mel’s book, The New Middle Way, comes with six recorded guided meditations. It’s a gentle, informal overview of Buddhism available from Amazon.

From the Pure Land, Mel’s Substack blog, has thousands of readers and subscribers in 38 U.S. states and 29 countries, and the podcast has thousands of listeners in 80 countries.

Consider sharing this post with a friend.

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And a bonus musical treat:

1. Fully enlightened beings, instead of being reborn, enter a state called Parinirvana, and saying more about that is above my pay grade.