Liberation as the goal. But for what?

I recently finished reading the Tibetan Book of the Dead. Most people here are likely already familiar with this text, but for those who aren't, it outlines the journey of the soul after death as interpreted by ancient spiritual leaders. Its purpose is twofold: to prepare an individual for the afterlife while they are still living, and to provide guidance for loved ones to assist the deceased by reading specific passages aloud. The book explores existence beyond our physical realm—what many would call the astral plane—which serves as a bridge toward total liberation or reincarnation into the material world. It offers practical advice for navigating encounters with various benevolent or wrathful deities during judgment, ultimately guiding the soul toward choosing its next life if complete liberation isn't achieved.

Reading this book, I have concluded that achieving liberation after death is an incredibly difficult feat, likely reserved only for yogis who have already mastered it during their lifetime. Most people simply drift along, carried by the weight of their good and bad karma, failing to maintain a mind centered in emptiness. For the majority, rebirth serves as the inevitable next step—a second chance to pursue spiritual progress. The Tibetan Book of the Dead suggests that liberation can be achieved (though rarely) in the immediate moments following death if the individual is capable, regardless of their karma. This depends entirely on their ability to recognize that everything encountered while navigating Purgatory is merely a projection of their own mind. Every vision is just a fragment of the deceased's psyche: the peaceful deities represent their divine nature, the wrathful ones reflect their human side, and even "judgment" is nothing more than a dialogue between different aspects of the self. Even suffering is simply a product of a restless conscience. Nothing in the astral realm exists outside the individual's being; the entire experience is shaped by one's karma and personal perception. If the soul cannot realize this, they may attempt to find liberation through prayer and focus on a protective deity. If that fails and they are overwhelmed by the illusions of the external world, their karma will inevitably lead them toward a new birth, whether in human form here on Earth or in some other realm altogether.

What I find most fascinating here is the actual concept of liberation. If everything in the astral realm is just as unreal as the deceased themselves—if it's all merely a mental projection colored by the memories and personality traits of a past life (which arguably applies to our physical reality too, but let's not get sidetracked)—then if the mind is fundamentally formless, void, and uncreated, those memories and inclinations are nothing more than illusions. In that case, who exactly is being liberated, and what is actually gained through such a process? 🤷 That which has always been unborn and uncreated is eternally free. It remains untouched by the shifting shadows and colors of existence—perceptions that are merely illusions destined to dissolve once they recognize their own lack of substance. When these illusions scatter, any perceived cognitive Power dissolves along with them. Everything fades. This isn't an escape into some heavenly realm of bliss (as being reborn into such worlds is just another layer of illusion), which leads me to wonder: is "liberation" even the right word for this process? Perhaps "annihilation" or "vanishing" would be more accurate. If the unborn is inherently free and void, then the illusory self, upon realizing its true nature, simply dissolves in a flash of insight. In reality, nothing truly changes; what was always free remains so, and what was never free never truly existed. The ultimate question remains: to what end?

Doesn't this entire concept seem completely nonsensical? All that spiritual labor, practice, and devotion spanning aeons just to realize we are a "holographic program," living in a "holodeck," and made of uncreated light dust—only to dissolve back into that dust and lose any sense of "self"? It feels a bit absurd, doesn't it?

On an intellectual level, grasping this idea isn't difficult. Modern science provides plenty of support, and beyond that, we have our own personal experiences, intuition acting as a channel to universal knowledge, and the mind's capacity for abstract thought. Actually "achieving" such a state is undoubtedly much harder and requires immense discipline. Perhaps adopting this view of reality could simplify and beautify our lives. But why would anyone set the "annihilation of consciousness" as their ultimate goal? Why would we want to dissolve into the void? Usually, the answer given is to escape the suffering of birth and death. But who is actually escaping it? Once you realize the illusion, the one being born and dying is merely a vanishing act, while that which was never born or died lacks a "self" to begin with. To me, it all looks like a pointless cycle: non-existence, existence, then non-existence again. 🤷

I hope my point comes through clearly in this topic. 😁

So, you have a toothache and you just want it to stop. Even if you try to argue that pain is basically just an illusion, it doesn't really matter—your brain still thinks it's very real, and that tooth is definitely still hurting. 😁 Real liberation happens when the pain finally stops, and let's be honest, the easiest way to make a tooth stop hurting is to just not have the tooth anymore. 😁

mistybison said:I recently finished reading the Tibetan Book of the Dead. Most people here are likely already familiar with this text, but for those who aren't, it outlines the journey of the soul after death as interpreted by ancient spiritual leaders. Its purpose is twofold: to prepare an individual for the afterlife while they are still living, and to provide guidance for loved ones to assist the deceased by reading specific passages aloud. The book explores existence beyond our physical realm—what many would call the astral plane—which serves as a bridge toward total liberation or reincarnation into the material world. It offers practical advice for navigating encounters with various benevolent or wrathful deities during judgment, ultimately guiding the soul toward choosing its next life if complete liberation isn't achieved.

Reading this book, I have concluded that achieving liberation after death is an incredibly difficult feat, likely reserved only for yogis who have already mastered it during their lifetime. Most people simply drift along, carried by the weight of their good and bad karma, failing to maintain a mind centered in emptiness. For the majority, rebirth serves as the inevitable next step—a second chance to pursue spiritual progress. The Tibetan Book of the Dead suggests that liberation can be achieved (though rarely) in the immediate moments following death if the individual is capable, regardless of their karma. This depends entirely on their ability to recognize that everything encountered while navigating Purgatory is merely a projection of their own mind. Every vision is just a fragment of the deceased's psyche: the peaceful deities represent their divine nature, the wrathful ones reflect their human side, and even "judgment" is nothing more than a dialogue between different aspects of the self. Even suffering is simply a product of a restless conscience. Nothing in the astral realm exists outside the individual's being; the entire experience is shaped by one's karma and personal perception. If the soul cannot realize this, they may attempt to find liberation through prayer and focus on a protective deity. If that fails and they are overwhelmed by the illusions of the external world, their karma will inevitably lead them toward a new birth, whether in human form here on Earth or in some other realm altogether.

What I find most fascinating here is the actual concept of liberation. If everything in the astral realm is just as unreal as the deceased themselves—if it's all merely a mental projection colored by the memories and personality traits of a past life (which arguably applies to our physical reality too, but let's not get sidetracked)—then if the mind is fundamentally formless, void, and uncreated, those memories and inclinations are nothing more than illusions. In that case, who exactly is being liberated, and what is actually gained through such a process? 🤷 That which has always been unborn and uncreated is eternally free. It remains untouched by the shifting shadows and colors of existence—perceptions that are merely illusions destined to dissolve once they recognize their own lack of substance. When these illusions scatter, any perceived cognitive Power dissolves along with them. Everything fades. This isn't an escape into some heavenly realm of bliss (as being reborn into such worlds is just another layer of illusion), which leads me to wonder: is "liberation" even the right word for this process? Perhaps "annihilation" or "vanishing" would be more accurate. If the unborn is inherently free and void, then the illusory self, upon realizing its true nature, simply dissolves in a flash of insight. In reality, nothing truly changes; what was always free remains so, and what was never free never truly existed. The ultimate question remains: to what end?

Doesn't this entire concept seem completely nonsensical? All that spiritual labor, practice, and devotion spanning aeons just to realize we are a "holographic program," living in a "holodeck," and made of uncreated light dust—only to dissolve back into that dust and lose any sense of "self"? It feels a bit absurd, doesn't it?

On an intellectual level, grasping this idea isn't difficult. Modern science provides plenty of support, and beyond that, we have our own personal experiences, intuition acting as a channel to universal knowledge, and the mind's capacity for abstract thought. Actually "achieving" such a state is undoubtedly much harder and requires immense discipline. Perhaps adopting this view of reality could simplify and beautify our lives. But why would anyone set the "annihilation of consciousness" as their ultimate goal? Why would we want to dissolve into the void? Usually, the answer given is to escape the suffering of birth and death. But who is actually escaping it? Once you realize the illusion, the one being born and dying is merely a vanishing act, while that which was never born or died lacks a "self" to begin with. To me, it all looks like a pointless cycle: non-existence, existence, then non-existence again. 🤷

I hope my point comes through clearly in this topic. 😁

And maybe—just maybe—you can't pull one tooth until the others are gone. You just end up becoming a dentist through sheer repetition instead of actually getting the tooth out.

I think you’ve hit the nail on the head there... the whole thing feels incredibly thin—if not completely nonsensical.

In my own two cents, those books seem to have been written as descriptions of psychedelic trips, which some folks then mistakenly assumed were the same thing as a near-death experience. I mean, look at how Richard Alpert and Tim Leary put together their own brief revision of the Tibetan Book of the Dead; they pretty much landed on the exact same conclusion.

The other possibility is that these texts originally functioned as guides through psychedelic states, but over time, through some distorted traditions, they morphed into something else entirely. Now, people literally "read them to the deceased," which—if you ask me—doesn't make any sense from a neurological standpoint.

mistybison, thank you so much for such an exhaustive and thoughtful story 😉

The way things are laid out in the book leads me to believe there isn't actually a meaningful distinction between being "alive" and being "dead," because if everything is just an illusion—both this current life and that transitional state we experience when we pass away... then they are essentially one and the same.

I have to admit, I’m also struggling to fully wrap my head around this concept of the "void" that one supposedly enters after all incarnations are complete. Perhaps "void" isn't even the right way to describe it.
If that's the case, why wouldn't we instead transition into a concrete form of existence?

If our current reality is nothing more than an illusion, then there has to be some underlying truth somewhere. Where does that actual reality reside? To me, these all feel like constructs of the Matrix—unverifiable ideas that could leave us spinning in endless circles forever...

It feels far more logical to assume that if reincarnation is a real thing, then we are caught in an infinite cycle of rebirth, perhaps separated by longer and longer intervals of "nothingness" in between.

We are looking at Tibetan eschatology here, which provides a much more intricate map of the dying process and the subsequent transition. In American Christianity, the framework is much more straightforward; you wait for Judgment Day, the second coming of Christ, and the final judgment. I suspect that, according to their own texts, the Tibetan tradition has its own unique equivalent for that moment...

Regardless, these are certainly fascinating topics to dive into...

bluemason3 said:So, you have a toothache and you just want it to stop. Even if you try to argue that pain is basically just an illusion, it doesn't really matter—your brain still thinks it's very real, and that tooth is definitely still hurting. 😁 Real liberation happens when the pain finally stops, and let's be honest, the easiest way to make a tooth stop hurting is to just not have the tooth anymore. 😁

The absurdity lies in the fact that the pain only ceases when the person experiencing it vanishes into a void—a nothingness where neither the person nor the tooth exists. If we follow the Tibetan Book of the Dead, there is only "annihilation," rather than a realization of illusion that leads to happiness. This is because even happiness (much like suffering) is just another layer of deception. This implies that the experiential realization that everything is an illusion leads automatically to total annihilation, rather than a joyful life free from toothaches. 😁 Ultimately, we are left with only two options: 1) a person in pain, or 2) neither the person nor the tooth.

Isn't this view of spirituality based on the belief that existence is inherently suffering and that self-annihilation is preferable to working through that suffering? Doesn't that essentially harbor a love for death?

driftingraven122 said:And maybe—just maybe—you can't pull one tooth until the others are gone. You just end up becoming a dentist through sheer repetition instead of actually getting the tooth out.

Then you become a magician, and suddenly you "are or aren't"? 😁

If we die and finally shake off everything, aren't we just blindly following some predetermined blueprint that claims this state is the ultimate goal?
If there are no standards to live by—or if there are—would we ever actually achieve anything at all?
What the hell is even the point?
unless...

mistybison said:The absurdity lies in the fact that the pain only ceases when the person experiencing it vanishes into a void—a nothingness where neither the person nor the tooth exists. If we follow the Tibetan Book of the Dead, there is only "annihilation," rather than a realization of illusion that leads to happiness. This is because even happiness (much like suffering) is just another layer of deception. This implies that the experiential realization that everything is an illusion leads automatically to total annihilation, rather than a joyful life free from toothaches. 😁 Ultimately, we are left with only two options: 1) a person in pain, or 2) neither the person nor the tooth.

Isn't this view of spirituality based on the belief that existence is inherently suffering and that self-annihilation is preferable to working through that suffering? Doesn't that essentially harbor a love for death?

Then you become a magician, and suddenly you "are or aren't"? 😁

Some really bright thinkers have suggested that there’s basically only one major philosophical question left to ask:
Whether or not to commit suicide?

And honestly, that’s where the whole irony of spirituality lies... people tend to look at it as a path toward a "good and happy life," chasing those states of consciousness you see laid out in myths and sacred texts. But if you look closer, spirituality actually suggests that life itself is the singular problem we have to solve—and death is, quite frankly, the ultimate solution to the problem of living, which is described in a pretty prosaic way throughout various scriptures and legends.

Is that a "love" for death...? I don't know... personally, I don't think so. But there is a certain level of comfort to be found when I sit and think about it. I'm starting to realize that the point of life isn't necessarily waiting for it to slowly fade away from you, but rather dying for a great idea at exactly the right moment... Maybe a Buddhist would call that meditating on "impermanence"... I usually just call it thinking, but I definitely find some solace in the fact that at least death is a certainty. 🙂

mistybison said:I recently finished reading the Tibetan Book of the Dead. Most people here are likely already familiar with this text, but for those who aren't, it outlines the journey of the soul after death as interpreted by ancient spiritual leaders. Its purpose is twofold: to prepare an individual for the afterlife while they are still living, and to provide guidance for loved ones to assist the deceased by reading specific passages aloud. The book explores existence beyond our physical realm—what many would call the astral plane—which serves as a bridge toward total liberation or reincarnation into the material world. It offers practical advice for navigating encounters with various benevolent or wrathful deities during judgment, ultimately guiding the soul toward choosing its next life if complete liberation isn't achieved.

Reading this book, I have concluded that achieving liberation after death is an incredibly difficult feat, likely reserved only for yogis who have already mastered it during their lifetime. Most people simply drift along, carried by the weight of their good and bad karma, failing to maintain a mind centered in emptiness. For the majority, rebirth serves as the inevitable next step—a second chance to pursue spiritual progress. The Tibetan Book of the Dead suggests that liberation can be achieved (though rarely) in the immediate moments following death if the individual is capable, regardless of their karma. This depends entirely on their ability to recognize that everything encountered while navigating Purgatory is merely a projection of their own mind. Every vision is just a fragment of the deceased's psyche: the peaceful deities represent their divine nature, the wrathful ones reflect their human side, and even "judgment" is nothing more than a dialogue between different aspects of the self. Even suffering is simply a product of a restless conscience. Nothing in the astral realm exists outside the individual's being; the entire experience is shaped by one's karma and personal perception. If the soul cannot realize this, they may attempt to find liberation through prayer and focus on a protective deity. If that fails and they are overwhelmed by the illusions of the external world, their karma will inevitably lead them toward a new birth, whether in human form here on Earth or in some other realm altogether.

What I find most fascinating here is the actual concept of liberation. If everything in the astral realm is just as unreal as the deceased themselves—if it's all merely a mental projection colored by the memories and personality traits of a past life (which arguably applies to our physical reality too, but let's not get sidetracked)—then if the mind is fundamentally formless, void, and uncreated, those memories and inclinations are nothing more than illusions. In that case, who exactly is being liberated, and what is actually gained through such a process? 🤷 That which has always been unborn and uncreated is eternally free. It remains untouched by the shifting shadows and colors of existence—perceptions that are merely illusions destined to dissolve once they recognize their own lack of substance. When these illusions scatter, any perceived cognitive Power dissolves along with them. Everything fades. This isn't an escape into some heavenly realm of bliss (as being reborn into such worlds is just another layer of illusion), which leads me to wonder: is "liberation" even the right word for this process? Perhaps "annihilation" or "vanishing" would be more accurate. If the unborn is inherently free and void, then the illusory self, upon realizing its true nature, simply dissolves in a flash of insight. In reality, nothing truly changes; what was always free remains so, and what was never free never truly existed. The ultimate question remains: to what end?

Doesn't this entire concept seem completely nonsensical? All that spiritual labor, practice, and devotion spanning aeons just to realize we are a "holographic program," living in a "holodeck," and made of uncreated light dust—only to dissolve back into that dust and lose any sense of "self"? It feels a bit absurd, doesn't it?

On an intellectual level, grasping this idea isn't difficult. Modern science provides plenty of support, and beyond that, we have our own personal experiences, intuition acting as a channel to universal knowledge, and the mind's capacity for abstract thought. Actually "achieving" such a state is undoubtedly much harder and requires immense discipline. Perhaps adopting this view of reality could simplify and beautify our lives. But why would anyone set the "annihilation of consciousness" as their ultimate goal? Why would we want to dissolve into the void? Usually, the answer given is to escape the suffering of birth and death. But who is actually escaping it? Once you realize the illusion, the one being born and dying is merely a vanishing act, while that which was never born or died lacks a "self" to begin with. To me, it all looks like a pointless cycle: non-existence, existence, then non-existence again. 🤷

I hope my point comes through clearly in this topic. 😁

I think I get it. And honestly? I’m mostly on board with the post, even if I wouldn't put it quite so poetically. Life or a dream—who knows? But the core idea is that just existing makes it *something*, and every single life that gets improved is basically its own unique experience. It's like all possible experiences are necessary and inevitable. Like everything exists simply because it can.

That’s why once consciousness (like yours) exists, it tries to hang on even after death. It might just evaporate, or it might "reset," which actually creates a whole new life and a new experience. Because of that, all consciousnesses exist since they can, and eventually, everything will just fade back into nothingness...

Hope that makes sense...

Liberation as the end goal. But for what?

Just messing around 😁 😉

mistybison said:I recently finished reading the Tibetan Book of the Dead. Most people here are likely already familiar with this text, but for those who aren't, it outlines the journey of the soul after death as interpreted by ancient spiritual leaders. Its purpose is twofold: to prepare an individual for the afterlife while they are still living, and to provide guidance for loved ones to assist the deceased by reading specific passages aloud. The book explores existence beyond our physical realm—what many would call the astral plane—which serves as a bridge toward total liberation or reincarnation into the material world. It offers practical advice for navigating encounters with various benevolent or wrathful deities during judgment, ultimately guiding the soul toward choosing its next life if complete liberation isn't achieved.

Reading this book, I have concluded that achieving liberation after death is an incredibly difficult feat, likely reserved only for yogis who have already mastered it during their lifetime. Most people simply drift along, carried by the weight of their good and bad karma, failing to maintain a mind centered in emptiness. For the majority, rebirth serves as the inevitable next step—a second chance to pursue spiritual progress. The Tibetan Book of the Dead suggests that liberation can be achieved (though rarely) in the immediate moments following death if the individual is capable, regardless of their karma. This depends entirely on their ability to recognize that everything encountered while navigating Purgatory is merely a projection of their own mind. Every vision is just a fragment of the deceased's psyche: the peaceful deities represent their divine nature, the wrathful ones reflect their human side, and even "judgment" is nothing more than a dialogue between different aspects of the self. Even suffering is simply a product of a restless conscience. Nothing in the astral realm exists outside the individual's being; the entire experience is shaped by one's karma and personal perception. If the soul cannot realize this, they may attempt to find liberation through prayer and focus on a protective deity. If that fails and they are overwhelmed by the illusions of the external world, their karma will inevitably lead them toward a new birth, whether in human form here on Earth or in some other realm altogether.

What I find most fascinating here is the actual concept of liberation. If everything in the astral realm is just as unreal as the deceased themselves—if it's all merely a mental projection colored by the memories and personality traits of a past life (which arguably applies to our physical reality too, but let's not get sidetracked)—then if the mind is fundamentally formless, void, and uncreated, those memories and inclinations are nothing more than illusions. In that case, who exactly is being liberated, and what is actually gained through such a process? 🤷 That which has always been unborn and uncreated is eternally free. It remains untouched by the shifting shadows and colors of existence—perceptions that are merely illusions destined to dissolve once they recognize their own lack of substance. When these illusions scatter, any perceived cognitive Power dissolves along with them. Everything fades. This isn't an escape into some heavenly realm of bliss (as being reborn into such worlds is just another layer of illusion), which leads me to wonder: is "liberation" even the right word for this process? Perhaps "annihilation" or "vanishing" would be more accurate. If the unborn is inherently free and void, then the illusory self, upon realizing its true nature, simply dissolves in a flash of insight. In reality, nothing truly changes; what was always free remains so, and what was never free never truly existed. The ultimate question remains: to what end?

Doesn't this entire concept seem completely nonsensical? All that spiritual labor, practice, and devotion spanning aeons just to realize we are a "holographic program," living in a "holodeck," and made of uncreated light dust—only to dissolve back into that dust and lose any sense of "self"? It feels a bit absurd, doesn't it?

On an intellectual level, grasping this idea isn't difficult. Modern science provides plenty of support, and beyond that, we have our own personal experiences, intuition acting as a channel to universal knowledge, and the mind's capacity for abstract thought. Actually "achieving" such a state is undoubtedly much harder and requires immense discipline. Perhaps adopting this view of reality could simplify and beautify our lives. But why would anyone set the "annihilation of consciousness" as their ultimate goal? Why would we want to dissolve into the void? Usually, the answer given is to escape the suffering of birth and death. But who is actually escaping it? Once you realize the illusion, the one being born and dying is merely a vanishing act, while that which was never born or died lacks a "self" to begin with. To me, it all looks like a pointless cycle: non-existence, existence, then non-existence again. 🤷

I hope my point comes through clearly in this topic. 😁

It definitely is absurd.

Sometimes I find myself thinking...

I don't even remember wanting to come HERE...
And I honestly have no clue what keeps pulling me INWARD...

When we actually start questioning our motives,
if we're being truly honest with ourselves,
and we know this isn't just about chasing pleasure or running away from pain,
all we can really say is: I HAVE NO IDEA...

Susan Kim18 said:It definitely is absurd.

Sometimes I find myself thinking...

I don't even remember wanting to come HERE...
And I honestly have no clue what keeps pulling me INWARD...

When we actually start questioning our motives,
if we're being truly honest with ourselves,
and we know this isn't just about chasing pleasure or running away from pain,
all we can really say is: I HAVE NO IDEA...

..so, is life itself absurd?

amberbadger8 said:..so, is life itself absurd?

...well, isn't it?

Susan Kim18 said:...well, isn't it?

..maybe that's just our human perspective talking, filtered through a bit of pessimism.. but I get the sense you feel differently.. 🙂

amberbadger8 said:..maybe that's just our human perspective talking, filtered through a bit of pessimism.. but I get the sense you feel differently.. 🙂

Try looking at it from a broader perspective.

For example:

My husband's grandfather was named Anthony
he used to work as a mail carrier
on Sundays, he’d wear a little tie to church
he can't quite recall if it was on his left or right ear
but he says they told him that was just how things were done in Miami
Anthony had a mixed-breed dog, maybe a German Shepherd
named Rex, or maybe it was Baksy—he can't remember exactly

That’s really all he remembers
and even what he does remember, he isn't entirely sure about

And he is the only descendant left

So, that's the sum total of Anthony's life

Just imagine life on Earth, say, 100 years after you're gone, and look at amberbadger8's life and her presence on this planet from that viewpoint. Will there even be anyone left to remember her? What do our thoughts, our desires, our needs, or our very existence at this specific point in space and time actually mean? And what will you even take with you, and where exactly...?

Just imagine it and tell me—isn't it absurd?

A single flash, we appear, we plant a few seeds, and then we vanish....

But....
Just because something is absurd doesn't mean it isn't worth it...

bluemason3 said:So, you have a toothache and you just want it to stop. Even if you try to argue that pain is basically just an illusion, it doesn't really matter—your brain still thinks it's very real, and that tooth is definitely still hurting. 😁 Real liberation happens when the pain finally stops, and let's be honest, the easiest way to make a tooth stop hurting is to just not have the tooth anymore. 😁

I don't know... lately, it feels like liberation isn't when the tooth stops hurting, but when you simply stop giving a damn about the tooth itself.
And more importantly, when you stop caring about the person experiencing the pain.

Edward Flores4 said:Some really bright thinkers have suggested that there’s basically only one major philosophical question left to ask:
Whether or not to commit suicide?

And honestly, that’s where the whole irony of spirituality lies... people tend to look at it as a path toward a "good and happy life," chasing those states of consciousness you see laid out in myths and sacred texts. But if you look closer, spirituality actually suggests that life itself is the singular problem we have to solve—and death is, quite frankly, the ultimate solution to the problem of living, which is described in a pretty prosaic way throughout various scriptures and legends.

Is that a "love" for death...? I don't know... personally, I don't think so. But there is a certain level of comfort to be found when I sit and think about it. I'm starting to realize that the point of life isn't necessarily waiting for it to slowly fade away from you, but rather dying for a great idea at exactly the right moment... Maybe a Buddhist would call that meditating on "impermanence"... I usually just call it thinking, but I definitely find some solace in the fact that at least death is a certainty. 🙂

Only inexperienced souls—those who have barely scratched the surface of spiritual inquiry—perceive a "good and happy life" as the end goal. Not only that, but they view death as some sort of 'glitch' or 'problem' to be bypassed if they can just perform the right rituals or achieve certain milestones to earn 'eternal life.'

Isn't there a profound paradox in that? To crave not just life, but an endless, unchanging existence, while simultaneously sweeping death under the rug as something terrifying that must be avoided at all costs. Naturally, this leads these so-called 'spiritual seekers' to shun anything that isn't 'light and beautiful,' avoiding the shadow side of spirituality entirely. In doing so, they actually stifle their own evolution and nurture a fear that is both unnecessary and deeply counterproductive. They essentially become easy prey for 'soul hunters' masquerading as organized religions or self-styled 'gurus.' Now, I don't mean to imply that being a believer or a follower of a faith makes someone a mindless sheep incapable of grasping the essence of things, but rather that many fall into this trap...

Real growth happens on an individual level, far removed from the influence of dogmatic theories and external teachings. Each person must forge their own relationship with death and the act of fading from this world; once you liberate yourself from that fear, the transition becomes entirely natural, as organic as life itself, being its inevitable other half.

Edward Flores4 said:Some really bright thinkers have suggested that there’s basically only one major philosophical question left to ask:
Whether or not to commit suicide?

And honestly, that’s where the whole irony of spirituality lies... people tend to look at it as a path toward a "good and happy life," chasing those states of consciousness you see laid out in myths and sacred texts. But if you look closer, spirituality actually suggests that life itself is the singular problem we have to solve—and death is, quite frankly, the ultimate solution to the problem of living, which is described in a pretty prosaic way throughout various scriptures and legends.

Is that a "love" for death...? I don't know... personally, I don't think so. But there is a certain level of comfort to be found when I sit and think about it. I'm starting to realize that the point of life isn't necessarily waiting for it to slowly fade away from you, but rather dying for a great idea at exactly the right moment... Maybe a Buddhist would call that meditating on "impermanence"... I usually just call it thinking, but I definitely find some solace in the fact that at least death is a certainty. 🙂

You really make me
Wonder 🙂 I truly believe that only a truly profound soul could express something like that... 🙂

Edward Flores4 said:I think you’ve hit the nail on the head there... the whole thing feels incredibly thin—if not completely nonsensical.

In my own two cents, those books seem to have been written as descriptions of psychedelic trips, which some folks then mistakenly assumed were the same thing as a near-death experience. I mean, look at how Richard Alpert and Tim Leary put together their own brief revision of the Tibetan Book of the Dead; they pretty much landed on the exact same conclusion.

The other possibility is that these texts originally functioned as guides through psychedelic states, but over time, through some distorted traditions, they morphed into something else entirely. Now, people literally "read them to the deceased," which—if you ask me—doesn't make any sense from a neurological standpoint.

Carl Gustav Jung would likely disagree with you. He believed that honoring the deceased—through memorials and similar rites—is vital for our psychological well-being. He also studied the Tibetan Book of the Dead and noted that it discusses various levels of consciousness and their corresponding metaphysical realities. To him, "liberation" is actually a fundamental shift in how one perceives reality. A massive change in perspective is required before we can view the world as something inherent to the nature of the soul. It is much easier and more convincing for us to view events as happening "to me," rather than observing how "I" am the one causing them to happen. According to Jung, it is precisely our "animal nature" that resists seeing ourselves as the creators of our own circumstances. This is why the Tibetan Book of the Dead serves as a guide for the living just as much as for the dead; it points toward a potential spiritual pivot that restores the divinity the soul lost upon birth. He also noted that through psychoanalytic methods, Western thought has managed to take a small step beyond our known consciousness, but only into that first, most superficial layer where the soul is still gripped and driven by instinct.

In essence, what Americans consider a deep dive, Easterners consider a move toward the surface. The paths of the Westerner and the Easterner run in opposite directions: while Easterners move directly from the purest spirit downward toward physical existence, Americans start from physical existence and make only a tiny leap into what we call the subconscious—which, for an Easterner, is already a world of deep illusion governed by karma, where the spirit is obscured. The next step for an American would be confronting the archetypes and the collective unconscious located behind the subconscious, whereas for an Easterner, this stage already represents a departure from pure spirit and a descent toward the material. However, Jung warns that driving the psyche into such states using Western methods is extremely dangerous and can lead a person into psychosis or schizophrenia.

Regarding the Tibetan Book of the Dead, Jung suggests it is composed of archetypal content from the unconscious, and the book itself claims that everything a deceased person experiences is simply an encounter with various facets of their own psyche. The core idea here is that death marks the purest, highest, and most spiritual moment. Every subsequent moment is merely a deeper descent into illusion until rebirth occurs.

Edward Martin32 said:If we die and finally shake off everything, aren't we just blindly following some predetermined blueprint that claims this state is the ultimate goal?
If there are no standards to live by—or if there are—would we ever actually achieve anything at all?
What the hell is even the point?
unless...

Or perhaps... 🙂

Edward Flores4 said:Some really bright thinkers have suggested that there’s basically only one major philosophical question left to ask:
Whether or not to commit suicide?

And honestly, that’s where the whole irony of spirituality lies... people tend to look at it as a path toward a "good and happy life," chasing those states of consciousness you see laid out in myths and sacred texts. But if you look closer, spirituality actually suggests that life itself is the singular problem we have to solve—and death is, quite frankly, the ultimate solution to the problem of living, which is described in a pretty prosaic way throughout various scriptures and legends.

Is that a "love" for death...? I don't know... personally, I don't think so. But there is a certain level of comfort to be found when I sit and think about it. I'm starting to realize that the point of life isn't necessarily waiting for it to slowly fade away from you, but rather dying for a great idea at exactly the right moment... Maybe a Buddhist would call that meditating on "impermanence"... I usually just call it thinking, but I definitely find some solace in the fact that at least death is a certainty. 🙂

If this uncreated, unborn, infinite, and free void is the only true reality, there must be a reason why its surface produced this illusion of "me" and "the world." Whether it's a cosmic game or just the nature of reality, it creates diverse forms out of mist and foam, only to dissolve them with a single breath. Why wouldn't this very form be our greatest treasure and the essence of all existence? There is little sense in devaluing it or wishing to destroy it just to merge back into the void.

Why isn't existence celebrated for simply manifesting in some form, rather than being viewed as mere "suffering" or a "punishment" where the ultimate goal for every conscious being is to dissolve back into nothingness?

Noah Fisher15 said:I think I get it. And honestly? I’m mostly on board with the post, even if I wouldn't put it quite so poetically. Life or a dream—who knows? But the core idea is that just existing makes it *something*, and every single life that gets improved is basically its own unique experience. It's like all possible experiences are necessary and inevitable. Like everything exists simply because it can.

That’s why once consciousness (like yours) exists, it tries to hang on even after death. It might just evaporate, or it might "reset," which actually creates a whole new life and a new experience. Because of that, all consciousnesses exist since they can, and eventually, everything will just fade back into nothingness...

Hope that makes sense...

That is precisely how I see things. 🙂

Susan Kim18 said:Try looking at it from a broader perspective.

For example:

My husband's grandfather was named Anthony
he used to work as a mail carrier
on Sundays, he’d wear a little tie to church
he can't quite recall if it was on his left or right ear
but he says they told him that was just how things were done in Miami
Anthony had a mixed-breed dog, maybe a German Shepherd
named Rex, or maybe it was Baksy—he can't remember exactly

That’s really all he remembers
and even what he does remember, he isn't entirely sure about

And he is the only descendant left

So, that's the sum total of Anthony's life

Just imagine life on Earth, say, 100 years after you're gone, and look at amberbadger8's life and her presence on this planet from that viewpoint. Will there even be anyone left to remember her? What do our thoughts, our desires, our needs, or our very existence at this specific point in space and time actually mean? And what will you even take with you, and where exactly...?

Just imagine it and tell me—isn't it absurd?

A single flash, we appear, we plant a few seeds, and then we vanish....

But....
Just because something is absurd doesn't mean it isn't worth it...

..well, if you view life through that lens, then a massive amount of things can seem truly absurd. So absurd, in fact, that you might start questioning how much every single "your" moment of life is an absurdity, right?
..but I don't think it's necessary to frame things this way. Just because we don't understand something doesn't mean we have to shove it into the context of the absurd..
but fine.. I get what you're trying to say, but why?
..isn't life meant to be lived?
..personally, I believe in reincarnation, so I feel like I'll "carry myself" with me—whoever I manage to shape myself into.... so everything isn't quite as absurd to me as it seems to you..

mistybison said:Carl Gustav Jung would likely disagree with you. He believed that honoring the deceased—through memorials and similar rites—is vital for our psychological well-being. He also studied the Tibetan Book of the Dead and noted that it discusses various levels of consciousness and their corresponding metaphysical realities. To him, "liberation" is actually a fundamental shift in how one perceives reality. A massive change in perspective is required before we can view the world as something inherent to the nature of the soul. It is much easier and more convincing for us to view events as happening "to me," rather than observing how "I" am the one causing them to happen. According to Jung, it is precisely our "animal nature" that resists seeing ourselves as the creators of our own circumstances. This is why the Tibetan Book of the Dead serves as a guide for the living just as much as for the dead; it points toward a potential spiritual pivot that restores the divinity the soul lost upon birth. He also noted that through psychoanalytic methods, Western thought has managed to take a small step beyond our known consciousness, but only into that first, most superficial layer where the soul is still gripped and driven by instinct.

In essence, what Americans consider a deep dive, Easterners consider a move toward the surface. The paths of the Westerner and the Easterner run in opposite directions: while Easterners move directly from the purest spirit downward toward physical existence, Americans start from physical existence and make only a tiny leap into what we call the subconscious—which, for an Easterner, is already a world of deep illusion governed by karma, where the spirit is obscured. The next step for an American would be confronting the archetypes and the collective unconscious located behind the subconscious, whereas for an Easterner, this stage already represents a departure from pure spirit and a descent toward the material. However, Jung warns that driving the psyche into such states using Western methods is extremely dangerous and can lead a person into psychosis or schizophrenia.

Regarding the Tibetan Book of the Dead, Jung suggests it is composed of archetypal content from the unconscious, and the book itself claims that everything a deceased person experiences is simply an encounter with various facets of their own psyche. The core idea here is that death marks the purest, highest, and most spiritual moment. Every subsequent moment is merely a deeper descent into illusion until rebirth occurs.

Or perhaps... 🙂

If this uncreated, unborn, infinite, and free void is the only true reality, there must be a reason why its surface produced this illusion of "me" and "the world." Whether it's a cosmic game or just the nature of reality, it creates diverse forms out of mist and foam, only to dissolve them with a single breath. Why wouldn't this very form be our greatest treasure and the essence of all existence? There is little sense in devaluing it or wishing to destroy it just to merge back into the void.

Why isn't existence celebrated for simply manifesting in some form, rather than being viewed as mere "suffering" or a "punishment" where the ultimate goal for every conscious being is to dissolve back into nothingness?

That is precisely how I see things. 🙂

I have to start by saying that, in my view, Carl Gustav Jung’s contribution to how we understand different cultures—specifically through his work on archetypal collective and personal unconsciousness—is easily one of the most massive achievements in the entire field of psychology and comparative mythology. It’s foundational stuff. And while he’s the heavyweight here, you really can't talk about this without bringing Joseph Campbell into the conversation. Campbell took everything Jung started and pushed comparative mythology into a whole new realm, even stepping in to refine or correct some of Jung’s ideas in ways that were honestly pretty vital for the field to move forward.

Now that we’ve finally cleared the air on that, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that when it comes to the supposed divide between the Easterner and the Westerner mindsets—I absolutely cannot get behind what Carl Gustav Jung was saying.

It’s funny how history repeats itself—even in the minds of geniuses. Take Carl Gustav Jung, for instance. Much like a lot of people do today, he ran headfirst into Hindu philosophy and that whole Eastern style of archetypal mythology, and he fell into a bit of a naive trap. He essentially assumed that Easterners were inherently more advanced than Westerners—that, as a collective, they were sitting at a higher "developmental level" psychologically speaking. He spent a good deal of time experimenting with their meditative techniques, too, but he ended up walking away with this somewhat skewed conclusion: that these practices were actually dangerous for Westerners. In his view, they just led to pure frustration because we seemingly lacked that specific "developmental level" that Easterners supposedly possessed. It was a classic case of looking through a lens that didn't quite account for the full picture.

In those circumstances, his perspective was only right to the extent that it would have been incredibly arrogant of him to assume his own struggle to master those techniques meant the methods themselves were flawed. He wasn't trying to undermine their credibility—mostly because the underlying cosmology actually makes a lot of sense—but rather, Carl Gustav Jung suggested that Americans just aren't quite "ready" for them yet. It’s like trying to run a marathon before you've even learned to walk; if we ignore that gap in readiness, we’re just setting ourselves up for failure. If you jump into it too soon, all you end up with is a massive amount of frustration from the sheer inability to control your mind the way those practices claim you should.

I think what Carl Gustav Jung missed back then was this fundamental point—these methods aren't actually "techniques" in the way we usually think of them. They aren't just tools you pick up and use to get a specific result. Instead, they’re more like a continuous dialogue. It reminds me of that line from William Blake: "The fool who persists in his folly will become wise." That’s really where the magic happens. These practices exist to force a confrontation with the reality that you simply cannot control your own mind. Once you hit that wall and realize how futile that struggle is, you start to see things differently. You begin to understand that "fate" isn't some external force crashing into your life from out of nowhere—it’s actually something we build for ourselves, brick by brick, through our own actions and patterns.

In other words, coming from that typical academic background we see in the West, Carl Gustav Jung wasn't exactly expecting to run into a completely different philosophy of "learning" once he encountered the traditions of the East. Where those Eastern perspectives really had the upper hand—and this is a subtle but massive distinction—was in their understanding that you can memorize every single doctrine and dogma in the book, yet still walk away with your old, biased way of seeing the world completely intact. It’s a bit like memorizing a cookbook without ever actually tasting the food; you have all the data, but zero actual nourishment. Because of that, he missed the chance to really question whether the techniques being offered were even valid, mostly because he was operating under the assumption that, just like back home in the States, education is always supposed to provide concrete, tangible answers. But the teachings from the East operate on a different wavelength entirely—they’re based, as William Blake would put it, "on the straight guidance of a fool."

If someone truly believes the world is flat, just send them out for a walk toward the edge—and make sure they stay in a perfectly straight line. Once they eventually loop right back to where they started, they’ll have to admit, at the very least, that the earth has a cylindrical shape. 🙂

Look, Carl Gustav Jung reached some incredible conclusions; he kicked open so many doors and handed us a toolkit that is still indispensable today. But even he tripped up occasionally—and honestly, we can't hold that against him. If he had claimed to be infallible, well, that would have just been pure arrogance on his part.

Quincy:

If this uncreated, unborn, infinite, and free void is indeed the only true reality, there's probably a reason why its surface gave rise to this illusion of "me" and "the world." Whether it’s a cosmic game or just the inherent nature of that reality—creating diverse forms out of mist and foam only to dissolve them with a single breath—why wouldn't that very form be the greatest treasure of all? Why devalue it, or feel this urge to destroy it and melt it back into the nothingness? Why isn't existence celebrated simply because it manifests in some form? Instead, we tend to view it as mere "suffering" or a "punishment," acting as if the ultimate goal for every conscious being is to unravel back into non-existence.

Now, I can only speak for myself here. For me, life is something to celebrate. I try to soak up as much of it as possible, fully aware that it's fleeting and, from my perspective, ultimately quite nonsensical. Life is basically a "function" or a "characteristic" of the universe—a way for the cosmos to create the variety and complexity it clearly craves. In that sense, life is a disruption of equilibrium; while it lasts, it drives the dynamics of conflict, violence, fragmentation, and isolation. Life IS a problem, with a capital "P."

But because I understand what that "function" actually is, I manage to embrace whatever comes my way with equal enthusiasm... whether it's pain or pleasure. That enthusiasm comes from the simple fact that, sooner or later, I'll return to a state of "equality," and my specific little bubble of consciousness—with all its built-up frustrations, memories, hopes, and philosophies—will finally be released from that pressure.

In a way... this IS a dream that will one day end, and all of this is just a temporary illusion—but while the dream is happening, it is my one and only reality.

Anyway... trying to read ancient texts without a deep understanding of the specific culture and cosmology of the era they were written in usually leads to some pretty massive misinterpretations.

Besides, you shouldn't take even verified, world-class authorities like Carl Gustav Jung for granted. Everyone misses the mark somewhere. Whenever I read a book and can't find at least one point where I disagree with the author, I KNOW I haven't actually grasped what they were really trying to say.

It's the same with me—if you can't find at least one thing to disagree with me on, it means you didn't really understand me. Because I definitely get things wrong sometimes, and I'd actually prefer if people pointed those flaws out. 🙂