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Recently, I was asked to hold space at a great gathering. The theme: transitions. Bardos. The rawness of impermanence.
Hundreds of people came.
Rows of bodies, breathing.
Eyes open, eyes closed.
Hands resting, hands folded.
The room hummed quietly, with the weight of expectation, of curiosity, of searching.
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It was not fear that moved them. Not grief. Not despair.
It was recognition. Continuity.
That even as forms dissolve, presence does not.
That even when life shifts, the thread is unbroken.
I realized, in that room, my mission made tangible:
to weave the sacred into the everyday.
To make the teaching of the bardo close as breath. Immediate. Intimate.
The Karmapas embody this kind of work on a master level in their returns.
Life continues. Awakening continues. Compassion continues.
Death is not the end.
The Gathering
I guided their presence carefully.
From sight to listening.
From the surface of things to the deep stillness beneath.
The lights dimmed.
Dimmer.
Darkness.
Silence grew.
Not heavy. Not oppressive.
A silence that held attention like a lantern in shadow.
I asked them:
“Why. Why are you here? In this body. At this time?”
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Some whispered inwardly.
Some let the question rest on the surface of their mind.
Some felt it in the body, a pulse, a tremor, a recognition.
They moved together through reflection.
They felt the bardo as reality, not as theory.
The space between breaths became passage.
The pause between words became doorway.
And I watched.
Hundreds of people, each touching continuity.
Not learning it. Living it.
Continuity and Choice
The bardo of death is universal. Everyone moves through it.
Most are carried by the winds of their habits, scattered without direction.
Ordinary beings are tossed, blown, driven.
Awakened masters move differently.
The Karmapas step with clarity.
They return, life after life.
By vow. By compassion. By choice.
In that room, this was reflected.
I spoke of the red thread of mind, unbroken across centuries.
Of teachers returning.
Of vows persisting, like rivers cutting through stone.
In their faces, some people recognized it.
Recognition not of the mind, but of awareness itself.
Immediate. Bodily. Felt.
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Some closed their eyes.
Some looked around.
Some simply breathed, letting continuity settle.
The sacred, woven into the ordinary, became visible.
The teaching was not abstract. It was present, alive.
Embodied Presence
I was reminded as I held the space, how living this teaching is.
The sacred is not distant.
It is the space between breaths.
The pause after a thought dies.
The silence after a word.
The presence of one human being facing another.
Hundreds of people, sitting quietly, felt it.
They did not leave with theory.
They left with a lived experience: presence is continuous.
Life is not ended by change.
The mindstream flows onward, through every passage.
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The Karmapas have done this work for centuries.
Returning again and again.
Showing that awakening continues.
That compassion is unbroken.
That the sacred can be woven into every ordinary moment.
The teaching of the Bardo
The gathering ended.
The room emptied.
Presence lingered.
People now carries this imprint with them — a living reflection of continuity, a mirror of the Bodhisattvas’ vow.
The teaching of the bardo was no longer distant.
It was as close as breath.
As real as the pulse beneath their hands.
As immediate as the awareness that flows through each moment.
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Life continues. Awakening continues. Compassion continues.
The red thread of presence runs unbroken.
Through centuries. Through this gathering. Through every moment we notice.
I give thanks to all of you for trusting me to hold the space.
Lama Chimey
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Lama Chimey 