The	afterlife	is	a	journey
only	in	the	sense	that	a	dream	is—in	both	cases	we	are	taking	our	attention
away	from	one	Kosha	and	placing	it	on	another. Our	travels	remain	within	the
self	system. The	Koshas	are	also	shared. The	universe	has	its	own	layers. Experiencing
an	angel	or	departed	spirit,	for	example,	is	made	possible	by	the	countless
generations	that	helped	create	that	subworld. Shared	reality	isn’t	mystical. You	claim	your	physical	body	as	uniquely	your	own,	but	even	that	is	shared—
the	air	you	breathe	today	contains	millions	of	atoms	of	oxygen	that	were
breathed	out	in	China,	for	example,	just	a	few	days	ago. You	absorb	ideas
floating	around	in	the	mass	media,	and	at	moments	you	may	have	an
inspiration	only	to	discover	that	someone	else	has	had	the	same	idea
simultaneously. (As	a	writer	I	am	ruefully	familiar	with	the	occasions	when	a
brilliant	book	or	script	idea	was	anticipated	by	two	or	three	other	writers
within	days	of	one	another.) So	the	analogy	of	the	onion	built	up	in	layers	breaks	down	at	a	certain
point. A	Kosha	isn’t	an	individual	possession. It’s	a	dynamic	realm	with	its
own	laws	and	experiences,	a	realm	we	can	enter	alone	or	with	others. Annamaya	Kosha
	(
physical	body
)
:
	The	physical	body	is	the	most	separate
aspect	of	the	self	system. At	birth	most	babies	are	very	much	alike
physiologically,	but	by	age	seventy	no	two	people’s	bodies	are	remotely	alike. Time	has	made	each	of	us	unique. This	material	fact	underlies	a	great	deal	of
the	separation	in	the	world,	as	people	struggle	to	grab	their	share	of	food,
money,	possessions,	and	status. They	want	to	promote	the	well-being	of	their
physical	body,	to	enhance	its	charm	and	beauty,	and	to	protect	it	from	the
threat	of	injury	and	death. At	this	level
	first	consciousness	is	biology. It	operates	silently,	without	a
voice,	as	it	organizes	the	myriad	functions	of	the	body. Yet	even	here,	if	we
look	at	what	is	happening	at	the	cellular	level,	it	turns	out	that	consciousness
transcends	boundaries. Cells	cooperate,	
communicate
,	exchange	functions,
perform	acts	of	self-sacrifice,	remain	in	balance,	keep	aware	of	their
environment,	adapt	to	change,	and	know	that	they	survive	by	being	part	of	a
greater	whole. Every	Kosha	reveals	wholeness	and	separation	at	the	same	time. If	we
look	upon	
Annamaya	Kosha
	as	the	physical	world,	it’s	obvious	that	ourbodies	are	isolated	from	one	another,	which	keeps	us	in	separation	by	giving
rise	to	the	illusion	that	we	must	struggle	and	compete	with	every	other
isolated	body. Yet	this	Kosha	
brings	us	closer	to	wholeness
	through
cooperation,	physical	security	in	social	groups,	and	shared	desires	for	food,
shelter,	sex,	and	physical	comfort. Pranamaya	Kosha
	(
subtle	breath	or	life	force
)
:	Prana
	means	vitality. In	the
individual,	Prana	is	the	breath	that	sustains	life	by	rhythmically	joining	us	to
Nature. We	inhale	all	that	is	necessary	to	remain	alive,	then	exhale	it	back	to
wherever	it	is	needed	next. There	is	no	equivalent	in	the	West	for	Prana,
except	a	tradition	called	vitalism	that	centers	on	the	“life	force.”	Whatever
name	you	give	it,	a	subtle,	flowing	intelligence	sustains,	the	physical	body. At	this	level
	consciousness	is	the	binding	force	that	keeps	Nature	intact. Humans	recognize	that	we	are	united	with	all	living	things. Consciousness
doesn’t	recognize	higher	or	lower	levels	of	life;	it	orchestrates	diversity	into	a
wholeness. When	you	feel	connected	to	the	life-forms	enveloped	in	the
ecosystem—to	pets,	an	old	shade	tree,	the	full	moon,	a	thunderstorm—you
are	feeling	the	flow	of	vitality	that	binds	Nature	together. When	you	become
aware	of	the	incredible	intelligence	that	knits	every	cell	in	the	body,	it	is	no
longer	possible	to	say	“I	own	this.”	You	cannot	own	life,	yet	you	cannot	help
but	be	at	its	center	also. Yet	in	this	level	separation	still	seems	to	dominate
over	wholeness,	which	is	why	human	beings	continue	to	depredate	the
ecosystem	without	realizing	that	they	are	destroying	part	of	their	own	self
system. This	Kosha	
keeps	us	in	separation
	through	imbalance,	a	disrupted
ecosystem,	pollution,	and	urban	overcrowding. This	Kosha	
brings	us	closer	to	wholeness
	through	vitality,	kinship	with
other	living	things,	balance	in	the	ecosystem,	and	empathy. Manomaya	Kosha
	(
mind
)
:
	The	root	of	the	mind	is	individual	ideas	and
thoughts. You	know	who	you	are	by	what	you	think. This	is	the	level	where
you	process	the	raw	data	of	the	world	to	make	it	meaningful. Mind	includes
emotions,	sensations,	memories,	and	other	uses	of	the	brain. The	rishis
understood	that	mind	is	organized	into	its	own	invisible	body,	a	body	of
personal	memories	and	beliefs	that	we	guard	from	harm	as	fiercely	as	we
guard	our	physical	bodies. At	this	level
	consciousness	finds	itself	at	play	in	the	cosmos	without
boundaries,	for	the	mind	can	fly	anywhere,	imagine	anything. Your	mind	is
free	to	interpret	the	world	any	way	it	wants,	and	unfortunately	some	of	those
ways	include	ignorance	of	the	self. It	is	impossible	to	restrict	the	mind,	yet
many	people	fear	its	gift	of	freedom. At	this	level	we	come	up	against	the
self-created	boundaries	of	belief,	fear,	and	prejudice. Blake’s	“mind-forgedmanacles”	create	separation	and	repression	where	none	need	exist. Mind	is	more	collective	than	individual. I	may	say	“my	mind,”	meaning
my	unique	thoughts	and	memories,	but	90%	of	our	thoughts	are	picked	up
from	society	and	its	many	outlets. A	great	many	memories	are	shared,	and	the
very	stuff	of	thought—language—is	a	collective	creation. Therefore	the	rishis
say	that	mind	is	the	first	Kosha	where	wholeness	dominates	over	separation. This	Kosha	
brings	us	closer	to	wholeness
	through	shared	beliefs,	social
conditioning,	religion,	received	opinions,	and	common	values. This	Kosha	
keeps	us	in	separation
	through	divisive	beliefs	in	politics	and
religion,	prejudice,	“us	versus	them”	thinking,	nationalism,	and	arbitrary
mental	boundaries	made	of	fear	and	hatred. Vigyanmaya	Kosha
	(
ego	and	intellect
)
:
	This	is	the	level	of	identity
dominated	by	“I,	me,	and	mine.”	Society	places	positive	value	on	someone
with	high	ego	drive	and	will	to	succeed,	but	in	spiritual	circles	the	ego’s
reputation	is	low. Spiritual	seekers	often	feel	it	is	their	duty	to	“kill	the	ego”
and	control	its	impulses. However,	if	we	look	at	“I-ness”	without	prejudice
against	the	ego,	this	level	of	the	self	brings	identity	into	being,	not	all	the
external	things	that	ego	drive	makes	us	pursue. Identity	isn’t	a	blank	slate	for	long. It	becomes	filled	with	attachments	and
associations	depending	on	what	we	choose	to	identify	with. Vigyanmaya
Kosha	is	that	level	where	myth	and	archetypes	operate,	giving	us	stories	and
models	to	identify	with. The	gods	play	out	our	primal	desires,	quests,	wars,
and	loves. Ego	also	gives	us	knowledge	about	identity	itself,	what	it	means	to
be	human:	I	cannot	know	who	I	am	without	family	and	society. At	this	level
	consciousness	is	self-centered,	brought	to	a	focus	upon	“I.”
Nothing	is	more	universal,	yet	ego	drives	separate	us	when	one	person’s
desires	clash	with	another’s. To	be	fair,	this	clash	develops	in	the	mind,	not	in
the	ego	itself. When	we	say	ego,	we	usually	mean	the	ego-personality,	which
is	full	of	individual	desires,	dreams,	beliefs,	likes,	and	dislikes. Vigyan	is
closer	to	unity	than	that. At	this	level	wholeness	dominates	over	separation,	as
can	be	seen	from	the	world’s	shared	archetypes	and	myths. This	Kosha	
brings	us	closer	to	wholeness
	through	a	sense	of	one
humanity,	heroic	quests	and	mythic	exploits,	and	the	need	for	self-respect,
dignity,	and	inner	worth. This	Kosha	
keeps	us	in	separation
	through	personal	alienation,	separation
anxiety,	loneliness,	and	repressed	emotions	that	give	rise	to	shame	and	guilt. Anandamaya	Kosha
	(
body	of	bliss
)
:
	To	the	rishis	bliss	was	more	than	a
feeling	of	ecstasy. It	was	the	basic	vibration,	or	hum,	of	the	universe,	the
ground	state	from	which	all	diversity	springs. It’s	possible	to	
imagine
	an
afterlife	where	one	no	longer	has	a	body,	where	there	is	no	need	for	breath,where	the	mind	doesn’t	process	data	anymore. But	there	must	be	a	faint	sense
of	both	ego	and	bliss. Ego	says,	“This	is	happening	to	me.”	Bliss	says,	“I	feel
the	spark	of	creation.”	Ananda	is	the	possibility	for	creation	to	manifest,	and
as	long	as	you	inhabit	the	body	of	bliss,	bliss	is	an	intense,	dynamic
experience	and	not	just	a	potential. At	this	level
	consciousness	is	the	joy	of	being. Instead	of	focusing	on
anything	in	the	external	world,	our	attention	comes	to	rest	on	the	numinous
presence	that	has	been	described	as	a	golden	light	suffusing	every	particle	of
Nature. In	bliss	you	perceive	that	separation	is	only	a	thin	veil. Behind	the
veil	shines	the	light	of	pure	consciousness. Devotional	practices	that	increase
a	person’s	sense	of	joy	can	reach	as	deep	as	the	level	of	ecstasy. But	bliss
itself	is	far	from	the	feeling	of	happiness	or	even	joy,	though	in	diluted	form	it
can	be	experienced	as	both. It	is	the	vibratory	connection	that	allows	pure
consciousness	to	enter	into	creation. This	Kosha	
reveals	wholeness	so	entirely
—through	love,	joy,	and	ecstasy
—that	separation	no	longer	holds	any	attraction. One	could	say	that
Anandamaya	Kosha	is	pure	Being	mixed	with	just	a	touch	of	individuality,
just	enough	to	allow	someone	to	live	in	physical	form,	and	whatever	form	the
afterlife	takes. Without	this	gossamer	sheath	you	would	dissolve	into	Being
and	become	bliss	itself,	without	an	experiencer. It’s	not	difficult	to	see	yourself	in	multidimensions	once	the	Koshas	are
described. The	
physical	dimension
	contains	action. You	live	here	whenever	you	see
yourself	as	a	body	separate	in	time	and	space. The	
Pranic	dimension
	connects	you	to	other	living	things. You	live	here
when	you	see	yourself	as	part	of	the	web	of	life,	a	creature	of	Nature. The	
mental	dimension
	organizes	reality	through	thought. You	live	here
when	you	see	yourself	as	the	sum	of	your	thoughts,	desires,	wishes,	dreams,
and	fears. The	
ego	dimension
	defines	your	unique	identity. You	live	here	when	you
see	yourself	in	terms	of	“I,	me,	and	mine.”
The	
dimension	of	bliss
	holds	out	ultimate	fulfillment	through	love	and
joy. You	live	here	when	you	see	yourself	blending	into	everything	through	the
power	of	love,	or	when	you	have	no	other	sensation	than	ecstasy. Making	these	dimensions	more	familiar	doesn’t	automatically	bring	them
together,	however. Each	Kosha,	as	we	saw,	can	pull	you	closer	to	wholeness
or	increase	your	tendency	to	remain	separate	and	isolated. The	rishis
considered	wholeness	to	be	the	only	reality,	compared	to	which	every
experience	in	separation	is	a	dream. The	goal	of	life	is	to	find	unity,	or	Yoga,
and	this	can	be	accomplished,	they	said,	by	focusing	on	each	Kosha. Physical	body:
	Yoga	uses	physical	postures	(called	
Asanas
)	that	combinebalance,	strength,	and	body	awareness	to	bring	us	to	physical	consciousness. Pranic	body:
	Yoga	uses	exercises	in	soft,	self-aware	breathing
(
Pranayama
)	to	bring	us	to	consciousness	of	the	flow	of	Prana. Mental	body:
	Yoga	uses	the	whole	field	of	discrimination	(
Viveka
)	to
bring	us	to	consciousness	of	how	the	mind	works. Manomaya	Kosha	is
therefore	the	level	of	evolution	in	consciousness,	both	for	you	and	me	and	for
human	beings	as	a	whole. We	carve	out	individual	niches	in	collective
consciousness,	and	as	a	wave	of	evolution	passes	through	humanity,	each	of
us	can	decide	to	catch	the	wave	or	ignore	it,	to	embrace	it	or	defend	against	it. Ego:
	Yoga	uses	mindfulness	in	all	its	various	forms,	such	as
contemplation	and	meditation	(
Dhyana
),	to	bring	a	person	to	consciousness	of
the	“I	am”	that	underlies	all	experience. Body	of	bliss:
	Yoga	uses	sustained	periods	in	a	deep	state	of	silence
(
Samadhi
)	to	bring	the	subtle	vibration	of	bliss	to	the	surface	of	the	mind,
making	a	person	conscious	that	the	“hum”	of	the	universe	is	present	in	every
experience. I’ve	outlined	very	briefly	the	contours	of	yoga	as	a	way	of	life,	but	a
typical	modern	person	cannot	be	expected	to	suddenly	shift	his	or	her
allegiance	so	drastically. This	makes	the	“after”	in	the	afterlife	too	far	away	to
work	with;	we	must	create	more	unity	in	the	“now.”	Yoga	was	not	meant	to	be
specifically	Indian	or	to	belong	primarily	to	ancient	times,	but,	unfortunately,
this	is	how	things	transpired,	leaving	us	with	a	new	challenge. How	do	we
take	the	fact	that	we	live	in	five	worlds	and	use	it	to	redefine	life	as	a	whole? At	Home	in	Consciousness
You	and	I	may	seem	to	live	primarily	in	the	physical	world,	yet	our	awareness
began	in	pure	consciousness,	and	as	we	traveled	into	this	life	layer	by	layer
through	different	dimensions,	each	one	gave	us	a	new	sense	of	self. We
possess	an	entire	self	system. The	rishis	studied	this	system	and	came	to
various	conclusions:
Pure	consciousness	is	always	present	in	everything,	no	matter	what
world	it	occupies	or	form	it	takes. The	physical	world	has	the	least	amount	of	pure	consciousness
because	it	is	dominated	by	physical	things	and	the	illusion	of
separateness. The	closer	you	get	to	pure	consciousness,	the	more	powerful	it
becomes. Changing	one’s	consciousness	on	subtle	levels	brings	change	to	all
the	Koshas	at	once.If	we	follow	these	principles,	we	can	gain	the	same	mastery	enjoyed	by
the	sages,	or	at	least	a	fair	share	of	it. I	posted	opinions	on	the	Internet	to	this	effect,	saying	that	basing	one’s
life	on	consciousness	is	the	best	route	to	mastering	the	physical	world. Responders	were	quite	skeptical,	however. Many	said,	in	
effect
,	“Talk	about
consciousness	all	you	want,	but	we	have	to	get	people	to	stop	destroying	the
planet.”	Or	“Consciousness	is	all	well	and	good,	but	it	won’t	end	war	and
terrorism.”	Or	“Good	luck	using	consciousness	to	stop	a	bullet.”	In	other
words,	they	were	putting	the	physical	Kosha	first,	assuming	that	material
things	can	only	be	influenced	through	direct	action. How	can	one	prove	that	the	best	way	to	change	reality	is	through
consciousness? On	the	physical	level	action	seems	separate	from
consciousness. The	Buddhist	concept	of	nondoing	seems	quite	mystical	until
you	realize	that	it	means	“action	in	consciousness.”	Action	in	consciousness
takes	many	forms. The	passive	resistance	of	Gandhi	was	an	outward	form	of
nondoing	that	had	a	huge	effect	on	consciousness;	it	brought	an	entire
historical	era	to	an	end. Powerful	ideas	are	also	in	consciousness,	and	there	is
no	doubt	that	have	changed	the	world,	from	the	Greek	invention	of
democracy	to	modern	theories	of	relativity. As	we	move	to	subtler	Koshas,	
all
action	takes	place	in	consciousness
. Let	me	simplify	things	by	making	some	suggestions	about	action	in	each
of	the	five	Koshas:
Annamaya	Kosha
,
	the	physical	body:	Nourish	and	respect	your	body. Appreciate	its	incredible	inner	intelligence. Do	not	fear	it	or	taint	it	with
toxins. Take	time	to	really	be	in	your	body. Take	it	outside	and	let	it	play. Pranamaya	Kosha
,
	the	vital	body:	Go	out	into	Nature	and	sink	into	the
feeling	that	this	is	your	home. Respect	and	nourish	the	ecosystem. Do	not
harm	other	living	things. See	Nature	without	fear	or	hostility. Reverence	for
life	is	the	key	here. Manomaya	Kosha
,
	the	mental	body:	Develop	positive	uses	of	the	mind. Read
and	appreciate	what	is	finest	in	human	expression. Become
	aware	that	you	are
a	wholeness,	and	allow	ideas	to	come	in	that	support	wholeness	over
separation. Resist	us-versus-them	thinking. Examine	your	automatic	reactions
and	secondhand	beliefs. Find	every	opportunity	to	welcome	signals	from	your
higher	self. Vigyanmaya	Kosha
,
	the	ego	body:	Find	a	vision;	go	on	a	quest. Fit	yourself
into	the	larger	pattern	of	growth. Seek	ways	to	evolve	personally. Celebrate
the	vast	traditions	of	spirit	and	wisdom	that	unite	cultures. Be	as	humane	asyou	can	in	every	way,	following	the	dictum	“The	world	is	my	family.”
Anandamaya	Kosha
,
	the	body	of	bliss:	Develop	your	own	practice	for
transcending	and	finding	bliss. You	already	know	the	phrase	“Follow	your
bliss”;	now	put	it	into	practice	through	some	kind	of	“alpha	wave”	exercise
like	meditation	and	deep	relaxation. Devote	yourself	to	discovering	what
Samadhi,	the	silence	of	deep	awareness,	is	really	like. Experience	your	own
being	as	a	reason	to	be	here.11
G
UIDES	AND
	M
ESSENGERS
“HAVE	I	LEARNED
	enough	now?”	Savitri	asked. She	was	beginning	to	change,
she	could	feel	it. Many	things	she	once	considered	real	now	seemed	like
phantoms,	while	the	most	profoundly	real	things	were	invisible. “I	think	so,”	said	Ramana. “Go	home.”
“Will	you	come	with	me?”
He	shook	his	head,	smiling. “I	wouldn’t	want	to	scare	Yama	to	death.”
Savitri’s	heart	skipped	a	beat. “But	how	do	I	get	back? I	don’t	know
where	I	am.”
“Or	so	you	imagine.”	Ramana	pointed	into	the	darkest	part	of	the	forest,
and	Savitri	saw	a	swarm	of	lights	that	might	have	been	fireflies,	only	it	was
midafternoon. Ramana	nodded	toward	them. “Go,”	he	said. “I	know	you	think
I	won’t	be	with	you. That’s	just	another	bit	of	imagination.”	Seeing	her
reluctance,	Ramana	bowed	his	head. “Everything	will	be	as	it	will	be.”
Savitri	remembered	that	those	were	Yama’s	exact	words	to	her. She
lingered	for	a	moment	until	Ramana’s	form	disappeared	into	the	heart	of	the
forest. Then	she	walked	toward	the	hovering	lights. They	
grew
	larger,	and	she
knew	she	was	seeing	a	band	of	
devas
. (A	deva	is	the	same	as	an	angel,	but	it
can	also	be	a	Nature	spirit.) “Who	are	you?”	she	asked. “Are	you	tree	devas?”	In	India	devas	inhabit
every	level	of	Nature	to	infuse	them	with	life. But	instead	of	answering,	the	lights	darted	away. Savitri	had	the	distinct
feeling	that	they	were	afraid	of	her. In	her	gentlest	voice	she	begged	them	to
come	back. One	of	the	lights	said,	
Why	should	we	when	all	you	want	to	do	is
kill	us? The	voice	was	not	outside	Savitri’s	head	but	inside. Savitri	was	shocked. “Kill	you? I	would	never	do	such	a	thing.”
The	light	replied,	
You	are	doing	it	right	now. We	are	the	devas	assigned	to
you,	yet	look	how	feeble	we	are
. Savitri	said,	“Tell	me	how	I	did	this,	because	if	I	ever	needed	you,	it’s	at
this	moment.”
The	light	said,	
You	have	been	full	of	secret	sorrow. You	are	anxious	about
death. You	think	nothing	of	us,	and	you	never	call	upon	us. That’s	how	you	are
trying	to	kill	us
. Savitri	had	never	thought	of	devas	that	way,	that	they	needed	attention.But	now	the	very	mention	of	death	drew	her	mind	back	to	fear,	and	when	it
did,	the	lights	grew	smaller	and	dimmer. She	exclaimed,	“Wait! Don’t	let	me	kill	you.”
To	which	the	light	replied,	
You	can’t. We	are	immortal. The	danger	isn’t
that	you	can	really	hurt	us	but	that	you	can	break	our	connection	to	you. We
need	your	love	and	attention,	and	in	return	we	will	help	you
. “How?”
Through	inspiration. We	bring	messages. We	can	let	you	see	us,	as	you	do
now,	and	that	will	help	you	see	your	place	in	the	divine	plan
. “Is	it	in	the	divine	plan	for	Satyavan	to	die?”	Savitri	asked. The	devas	had
been	coming	closer,	but	now	they	scattered	and	moved	away	from	her. Savitri
caught	herself	and	took	a	deep	breath,	asking	for	hope	and	courage. The	lights
cautiously	drew	closer. The	divine	plan	is	life	itself. It	includes	all	creatures	in	their	proper	place. The	proper	place	for	humans	is,	first,	in	eternity	and	second,	here	on	earth. Death,	like	the	pause	between	two	breaths,	is	how	you	cross	from	one	home	to
the	other
. Savitri	felt	a	rush	of	gratitude,	which	brought	the	lights	even	closer. They
began	to	gleam,	lighting	the	way. Savitri	found	that	she	wasn’t	lost. In	fact,
her	hut	was	close	by,	and	with	determined	steps,	led	by	a	flickering	host	of
lights,	she	headed	home. HOW	TO	MAKE	AN	ANGEL
Drawing	a	sharp	line	between	real	and	unreal	ignores	how	consciousness
really	works. If	you	say	to	me,	“I	have	a	guardian	angel,”	I	can	interpret	that
statement	through	several	states	of	awareness. You	could	mean:
I	imagine	I	have	a	guardian	angel. My	religion	teaches	me	that	I	have	a	guardian	angel	in	heaven. I	have	read	eagerly	in	the	mythology	of	angels,	and	the	one	that	attracts	me
is	the	guardian	angel. I	see	my	guardian	angel	and	experience	its	presence. Having	a	guardian	angel	is	my	cherished	wish. I	saw	my	guardian	angel	in	a	dream. Certain	states	of	awareness,	such	as	dreams	and	imagination,	are	accepted
in	our	society,	but	they	press	close	to	other	states	that	modern	people	often
relegate	to	superstition,	such	as	seeing	departed	spirits	and	having	holy
visions. Yet	I’ve	met	too	many	people	who	tell	me	soberly	of	having	saints
appear	to	them	in	meditation,	and	others	who	have	been	visited	by	gurus,	thearchangel	Michael,	Jesus,	Buddha,	ancient	Tibetan	lamas,	and	incarnations	of
themselves. Access	will	not	be	denied. Other	cultures	have	felt	more	comfortable	navigating	the	subtle	dimension
than	we	do;	our	tendency	is	to	wall	this	region	off	from	the	physical	world
and	to	make	arbitrary	judgments,	like	the	following:
People	who	see	angels	are	imagining	things. Dreams	are	illusory,	so	every	other	subtle	phenomenon	is	an	illusion	also. If	you	see	or	hear	anything	that	isn’t	physical,	you	must	be	hallucinating. Seeing	a	god	or	angel	is	the	equivalent	of	seeing	a	UFO. Both	are	outside
normal	experience. Sacred	visions	are	the	result	of	organic	diseases	like	epilepsy	or	paranoid
schizophrenia. Yet,	to	create	in	consciousness	is	our	greatest	gift,	and	what	we	create
continues	to	evolve. If	you	open	yourself	without	judgment	to	your	role	as	a
creator,	you	gain	much	more	freedom. Genesis	doesn’t	have	to	be	a	far-off
event	that	put	the	universe	into	play. It	can	be	a	constant	event	that	renews
itself	at	every	moment. A	great	work	of	art	can	begin	in	a	dream,	a	vision,	or	an	inspirational
moment. It	gestates	in	the	invisible	reaches	of	the	imagination,	but	then	the
artist	begins	to	shape	it	in	clay	or	on	a	canvas. The	
Mona	Lisa
	needed	an
audience,	and	that	audience	had	to	think	that	painting	was	important. The
painting	had	to	inspire	viewers	with	its	beauty,	and	as	it	did,	it	gained	fame,
appreciation,	and	understanding. Eventually,	if	an	artwork	is	supreme,	a
whole	culture	adores	it. The	word	“angel”	could	be	substituted	for	“Mona
Lisa”	without	much	change. Being	a	work	of	art,	a	human	product,	the	
Mona
Lisa
	doesn’t	stir	our	skeptical	nature,	but	since	we	can’t	observe	ourselves
creating	angels,	we	aren’t	as	accepting	of	the	process. The	next	step,	then,	is
to	unfold	that	process	in	detail. Projection
The	mechanism	by	which	angels	are	created	is	called	projection. In	the	field
of	psychology	this	term	is	often	used	pejoratively,	as	a	synonym	for	hanging	a
subjective	state	on	an	object	outside	ourselves. Instead	of	being	able	to	accept
their	own	negative	emotions,	for	example,	people	frequently	project	them
onto	others. Consider	these	familiar	exchanges:
I	don’t	think	you	love	me	anymore
. You’re	just	projecting. Of	course	I	do. There’s	a	noise	outside. I’m	sure	it’s	a	burglar
. You	think	every	noise	is
something	dangerous. You’re	just	projecting.If	I	go	to	the	party	next	week	without	losing	ten	pounds,	everyone	will	think
I’m	disgusting. Stop	projecting. You	look	fine
. Projection	can	get	complicated. A	society	that	feels	endangered	can
project	wild	fantasies. Muslim	fundamentalists	project	a	West	that	is	corrupt,
unholy,	and	decadent,	while	Christian	fundamentalists	project	an	Islam	that	is
barbaric,	fanatical,	and	godless	in	return. Projection	is	“successful”	when	we
no	longer	can	see	reality	but	have	created	a	false	version	based	on	fear,
hostility,	anxiety,	or	insecurity—any	negative	emotion	for	which	we	refuse	to
take	responsibility. Projection	also	can	be	positive,	as	it	is	when	a	smitten
lover	sees	perfection	in	the	object	of	his	love,	although	to	friends	and	family
the	beloved	remains	an	ordinary	creature	of	flesh	and	blood. Vedic	rishis	said	that	projection	is	the	mechanism	by	which	consciousness
created	reality. We	are	all	familiar	with	this	because	the	movie	business
depends	entirely	on	projection. In	Hollywood,	a	star	is	an	actor	who	has
crossed	the	dividing	line	between	reality	and	projection. When	Tom	Cruise
stops	to	help	a	stranded	motorist	change	a	tire,	or	when	Jennifer	Aniston	goes
out	on	a	date,	it’s	worldwide	news. Why? Because	stars	are	projected	into	a
superhuman	dimension. Their	smallest	gesture	is	significant	beyond	reason. If
you	or	I	help	someone	change	a	tire,	it’s	not	a	feat	of	heroism;	if	a	young
woman	goes	out	on	a	date,	the	Goddess	of	Love	hasn’t	entered	the	world. Projection	is	a	recipe	for	turning	the	human	into	the	superhuman,	and	the
natural	into	the	supernatural. Here	are	some	of	its	ingredients:
Symbolism:
	Our	projection	must	stand	in	for	something	deeper	and	more
significant. Desire:
	Our	projection	must	fulfill	a	wish	or	need	that	cannot	be	fulfilled
directly. Fantasy:
	Our	projection	must	operate	in	the	realm	where	physical
constraints	don’t	hold	sway. Myth	and	archetype:
	Our	projection	must	be	universal	in	meaning. Idealism:
	Our	projection	must	connect	us	to	higher	values. These	requirements	can	be	met	only	in	the	consciousness	of	a	creator. A
fireman	who	rescues	a	child	from	a	burning	building	isn’t	a	hero. He’s	just	a
man	in	a	fireproof	coat	who	runs	into	flames	as	part	of	his	job. Heroism	is
created	by	projecting	the	necessary	ingredients:
The	fireman	
symbolizes
	a	protecting	father. He	fulfills	our	
desire
	to	be	rescued	from	peril. In	
fantasy
	he	is	more	powerful	than	the	fire. He	defeats	it	in	personal
combat. He	fits	the	
myth
	of	the	great	warrior	and	the	prince	who	rescues	themaiden	in	distress. We	
idealize
	him	as	heroically	masculine. Firemen	don’t	just	do	a	job—
they	live	up	to	our	manly	ideal. Without	projection	we	wouldn’t	see	firemen	the	way	we	do,	and	they
wouldn’t	see	themselves	that	way	either. This	is	a	good	example	of	how	we
first	create	the	projection	and	then	participate	in	it. Society	is	constantly
caught	up	in	the	rise	and	fall	of	its	projections. Sports	
figures
	who	take	drugs
become	fallen	heroes;	soldiers	in	battle	step	into	hell;	movie	actresses	are
goddesses	until	their	next	extramarital	affair,	which	turns	them	into	home
wreckers. People	we	deem	larger	than	life	have	learned	how	to	manipulate
symbols,	fantasies,	ideals,	and	myths. The	most	successful	products	in	the
marketplace	do	this	as	well. However,	these	superficial	examples	of	projection	hide	a	profound	power
inside	all	of	us. Our	entire	culture	has	been	built	upon	projection,	and	at	this
moment	you	and	I	are	continuing	the	process. Projection	creates	meaning
. By
themselves,	events	are	meaningless	until	we	give	them	value. Think	of	the
many	deaths	we	see	on	the	television	news. Some	deaths	feel	meaningless	to
us	because	they	seem	so	remote. But	if	we	attach	value	to	a	person,
everything	changes. Certain	phrases—“somebody’s	child,”	“cancer	victim,”
“a	soldier	who	loved	his	country”—cause	us	to	project	a	positive	meaning. Other	phrases—“insurgent,”	“escaped	convict,”	“gang	member”—flip
meaning	to	the	negative	side. It	could	be	the	same	death	in	question,	since
everyone	is	someone’s	child,	for	instance. We	react	to	information	(which
often	comes	prepackaged	with	spin	included)	so	quickly	that	we	lose	sight	of
the	power	we	are	exerting	as	creators. Everything	that	is	real	at	one	level	of	consciousness	is	unreal	at	another
. If	you	want	to	make	an	angel,	you	must	project	it,	but	to	do	that,	you	must
be	in	a	state	of	consciousness	that	accepts	angels	as	real. In	India	there’s	a
specific	region	called	
Devaloka
,	where	angels	abide,	but	it’s	not	the	same	as
heaven. Devaloka	is	often	portrayed	like	heaven—a	place	in	the	clouds	where
ethereal	beings	float—but	it’s	understood	that	all	Lokas,	or	other	worlds,	are
layers	of	consciousness. Therefore	angels	are	part	of	the	whole	self	system. The	rishis	tell	us	that	any	one	projection	affects	all	the	Koshas. While	we
are	creating	in	the	material	world,	we	are	affecting	every	level	of
consciousness	and	therefore	every	level	of	creation. Meaning	is	never
isolated. Angels	exist	because	they	have	been	projected	in	
consciousness
. Just
as	a	movie	requires	an	image,	a	projector,	and	a	viewer,	so	do	angels. In	terms
of	Vedanta	three	elements	are	involved:
The	seer	or	observer	is	
rishi
. The	process	of	projecting	is	
devata
. The	thing	projected	is	
chhandas
.In	a	movie	house	the	audience	is	the	rishi,	the	machine	run	by	the
projectionist	is	the	devata,	and	the	images	on	the	screen	are	the	chhandas. It’s
not	so	important	to	remember	these	terms,	but	ancient	sages	hit	upon	a
universal	rule	of	consciousness,	called	three-in-one. If	you	occupy	any	of
these	roles—seer,	seen,	or	the	process	of	seeing—you	occupy	all	of	them. These	modest-sounding	words	have	the	potential	to	revolutionize	the	world. If	you	are	blankly	looking	at	the	world,	it	has	power	over	you,	because
you	are	passive	and	the	world	is	doing	everything	to	you. If	you	engage	in	a
process—going	through	a	divorce,	driving	to	work,	cooking	a	meal—you	are
a	bit	closer	to	power,	but	the	process	has	its	own	momentum	and	can
overwhelm	you. If	you	are	the	object	being	seen—a	rich	man,	a	beautiful
woman,	a	preacher,	a	criminal—those	objective	labels	give	you	status	and
meaning,	but	you	have	given	yourself	over	to	others,	the	ones	who	make
labels	and	stick	them	on	people. Only	in	the	unity	of	all	three	roles	do	we
achieve	our	complete	power	as	creators. At	the	soul	level	all	three	roles	are	enfolded	into	unity. That’s	why,
paradoxically,	God	is	the	Creator	and	his	creation. Once	he	projects	his
creation	outward,	unity	turns	into	diversity. This	is	Vedanta’s	equivalent	of	the
Big	Bang. When	the	creator	begins	to	look	at	himself,	instantly	there	is	a
three-in-one	state. An	observer	(rishi)	beholds	an	object	(chhandas)	through
the	process	of	observation	(devata). As	soon	as	the	three	emerge,	the	entire
universe	emerges	with	them;	the	matter	dispersed	by	the	Big	Bang	is	only	one
facet	of	an	invisible	mechanism	in	
which
	the	creator	suddenly	sees	what’s
possible,	and	in	that	seeing	the	possible	comes	true	in	infinite	variety. We
shouldn’t	be	surprised	that	the	entire	universe	contains	only	4%	visible	matter
and	energy,	the	remaining	96%	being	so-called	dark	matter	whose	function
seems	to	be	that	it	holds	the	visible	universe	together	in	some	mysterious	way. The	“Creator”	doesn’t	have	to	be	a	person;	it	can	include	the	invisible	field
from	which	everything	visible	is	organized	and	upheld. The	three-in-one	state	wouldn’t	matter	if	it	didn’t	affect	everyday	reality,
but	it	does. Seeing	is	enough	to	create. The	“observer	effect,”	as	it	is	called	in
physics,	literally	creates	matter:	It	takes	an	observer	to	turn	the	invisible
energy	state	of	an	electron	into	a	specific	particle	located	in	time	and	space. Before	the	observer	effect	takes	place	there	is	no	electron;	there	is	only	the
possibility	of	one. Our	eyes	cannot	detect	it,	but	we	are	immersed	in	a	sea	of
possibilities. Every	possible	electron	that	could	ever	exist	is	here	right	now. We	pluck	electrons	out	of	the	sea	of	possibilities	simply	by	looking. Somehow	the	Vedic	rishis	understood	this	astonishing	fact. How? Because
they	watched	the	process	firsthand,	not	with	electrons,	but	with	the	rise	and
fall	of	events,	which	are	so	fluid	that	to	them	it	was	no	more	than	a	dream. Is	this	really	believable? The	spookiest	thing	about	the	observer	effect	is
that	when	you	see	a	single	electron,	all	other	electrons	are	affected. Thismakes	sense	only	in	a	universe	where	there	are	no	single	electrons,	only	a
vast,	all-encompassing	web	of	charges,	positions,	spins,	and	points	in—which
is	exactly	the	view	on	which	theoretical	physics	is	converging. The	Vedic
sages	called	themselves	rishis	(seers)	because	to	them	everything	comes	back
to	the	observer,	the	seer. Seeing	is	the	ultimate	creative	act. The	Devata	Effect
The	mystery	of	creation	lies	in	the	gap	between	the	observer	and	the
observed. Angels	exist	in	this	gap;	they	are	the	processors	of	
consciousness
,
and	thus,	to	use	a	biblical	term,	the	servants	of	God. Devata,	the	Sanskrit
word	for	this	process,	has	its	root	in	
deva
,	which	means	angel. Devas	are
more	than	messengers;	they	are	agents	of	creation. They	carry	out	the	bidding
of	the	creator,	and	since	the	creator	does	nothing	but	observe,	devas	stand	for
the	active	aspect	of	seeing,	which	is	hidden. It	would	be	fair	to	say	that
everything	we’ve	ascribed	to	projection	belongs	instead	to	the	devata	effect,
the	ability	of	consciousness	to	turn	invisible	impulses	into	physical	reality. The	devata	effect	regulates	every	level	of	reality,	and	angels	therefore	appear
in	all	the	Koshas. In	the	
physical	dimension
	angels	appear	as	visitors	and	guides. They
deliver	messages	from	God	or	offer	help	in	times	of	crisis. In	the	
vital	dimension
	angels	sustain	Nature	by	breathing	life	into
creation. They	serve	as	builders	of	form;	they	give	each	living	thing	an
essential	connection	to	Nature. In	the	
mental	dimension
	angels	appear	in	visions	and	dreams. They
embody	the	mind	of	God	and	connect	it	to	our	thoughts. In	the	
ego	dimension
	angels	serve	as	personal	guides	and	guardians. In	the	
dimension	of	bliss
	angels	surround	God	and	praise	Him	constantly. They	embody	joy	in	its	most	exalted	state. All	five	levels	share	the	need	for	communication. The	creative	impulse
must	cascade	from	one	level	to	the	next. Angels	are	really	symbols	for	how
information	gets	passed	along	and	organized. The	reality	beneath	the	symbol
is	the	devata	effect. Let	me	offer	a	concrete	example	that	might	get	us	closer
to	understanding	this	hidden	reality. I	know	a	woman	who	earns	her	living	from	angels. Her	name	is	Lily,	and
she	first	became	aware	of	angels	at	a	birthday	party	when	she	was	three	or
four. “My	mother	turned	off	the	lights	so	I	could	blow	out	the	candles	on	my
cake. I	looked	around	and	noticed	these	people	standing	around	the	edge	of
the	room. They	weren’t	there	when	the	
lights
	were	on. I	pointed	to	them,	only
to	discover	that	nobody	else	could	see	them. But	I	remember	that	they	made
me	feel	very	happy.”
Lily’s	first	encounter	was	the	most	physical	one. After	her	motherdiscouraged	her	from	seeing	“people”	where	there	were	none,	they	quickly
disappeared. Lily	was	still	aware	of	their	presence,	however,	and	as	she	grew
up	she	learned	to	adapt	to	this	presence. Eventually	“the	guys,”	as	she	called
them,	became	images	she	could	see	when	she	closed	her	eyes,	and	voices	she
could	hear	when	she	asked	questions. “They	weren’t	constant	voices,”	she	says. “I	never	considered	them
hallucinations. I	had	to	consciously	call	on	the	guys,	and	when	I	did	I	felt	a
comfort,	a	guiding	wisdom. I	know	most	people	don’t	make	contact	with	their
own	guides,	but	I	can	see	theirs,	too. We	all	have	them.”
This	ability,	which	the	rishis	would	say	belongs	in	the	world	of
“consciousness	filled	with	subtle	objects,”	came	and	went	in	Lily’s	life. A
great	deal	seemed	to	depend	on	where	she	found	herself. Right	after	college
she	had	a	brief	marriage	to	a	man	who	discouraged	Lily	from	contacting	“the
guys,”	and	after	their	divorce	Lily	held	an	office	manager’s	job	for	fifteen
years	that	needed	little	inner	guidance. But	eventually	she	was	led	to	think
about	the	issue	of	healing. “The	guys	told	me	that	I	could	heal	people	emotionally,	and	that	they’d
help. At	first	this	made	me	nervous. But	I	kept	noticing	how	painful	it	is	for
many	people	when	they	are	faced	with	their	old	wounds. The	guys	told	me	it
didn’t	have	to	be	that	way. They	would	show	me	how	to	move	the	trapped
energies	of	pain	and	trauma. I	could	learn	to	do	this	without	the	person	feeling
anything	stressful. That	appealed	to	me	deeply.”
By	the	time	she	turned	forty,	Lily	had	begun	her	healing	work	in	earnest. She	started	out	with	friends	with	whom	she	could	freely	talk	about	“the
guys.”	As	the	work	deepened,	she	began	to	use	the	phrase	“higher	guides	and
angels”	to	fit	what	she	saw. “I’m	a	conventional	person	in	many	ways. When	I’m	not	tuning	in	to	the
level	where	I	do	my	work,	my	life	is	completely	ordinary. It	took	me	years	to
think	of	the	guys	as	angels,	but	then	they	showed	me	the	archangel	Michael. I
brought	in	the	presence	of	Christ	to	help	me. I	tell	people	that	they	are
energetically	connected	to	God. It’s	become	very	natural	now	because	I	can
see	everything	I	talk	about.”
Outside	the	boundaries	of	the	reality,	on	which	we	generally	agree,	people
like	Lily	exist	and	always	have. Lily	brings	us	to	a	critical	point	in	our
investigations. It	doesn’t	matter	if	we	try	to	settle	the	argument	over	whether
angels	are	real	or	unreal,	whether	they	are	here	on	earth	or	far	away	in
heaven. Our	own	consciousness	regulates	what	is	real	and	unreal;	we	have
stepped	into	our	own	projection. If	that	projection	consists	of	physical	objects
only,	to	the	exclusion	of	subtle	objects,	it’s	nevertheless	a	self-creation. You
and	I	exist	not	as	observer,	or	observed	or	the	process	of	observation	but	all
three	at	once. To	deny	this	is	to	deny	our	wholeness,	and	the	power	that	is	our
birthright.“I	have	various	ways	of	seeing	people,”	Lily	says. “I	see	them	physically,
but	even	then	I	sense	their	energy. When	I	go	inside,	I	see	their	energy	as	a
field	of	light	around	them. That’s	the	basic	reality,	but	if	I	ask	to,	I	can	also
see	their	angels	and	other	etheric	beings. Some	of	these	are	very	negative. They’ve	been	drawn	to	the	person	by	negative	beliefs. I	can	see	people	as
they	were	in	other	lifetimes,	and	to	a	limited	extent	I	can	see	them	in	the
future. It’s	all	very	fluid,	but	it’s	all	accessible.”
Twenty	years	ago	I	knew	no	one	with	subtle	sight	like	Lily;	now	I’ve	met
many	of	them. Each	has	learned	to	ignore	the	boundary	that	society	sets
between	one	level	of	life	and	another. At	the	soul	level	we	are	free	to	do
whatever	we	want	with	the	potential	given	to	us. Angels	are	not	absolutes;
they	have	changed	over	history	as	human	imagination	has	changed. This
creative	project	of	ours	goes	back	millennia,	and	it	continues	to	this	day. When	you	die,	how	much	of	what	happens	will	be	your	choice	and	how
much	will	be	left	to	outside	forces? Lily	herself	is	clear	about	this. She	and
“the	guys”	could	work	together	without	interruption	by	physical	death. In	this
way	Lily	is	doing	consciously	what	we	are	all	doing	unconsciously. Thanks	to
the	devata	effect,	we	
are
	the	process	of	creation. Through	us,	gods,	angels,
and	souls	come	in	and	out	of	being. Lily	says,	“When	I	started	out	on	this
work	a	lot	of	my	vocabulary	was	Christian,	because	from	early	on	I	felt	very
close	to	Jesus. Then	I	began	to	experience	him	as	the	Christ	presence,	without
any	picture	in	my	head. I	discovered	that	there	was	an	esoteric	name	for	the
universal	Christ,	which	is	Sananda,	and	the	guys	told	me	I	could	use	that
when	I	wanted	to	relate	to	the	cosmic	Christ. Now	even	Sananda	has	become
more	abstract,	like	a	field	of	compassionate	light.”
I	asked	Lily	what	might	come	next	for	her. “That’s	the	big	question,	isn’t	it? At	some	level	I	know	I	don’t	really	need
the	guys. They’re	just	aspects	of	myself. If	I	wanted	to,	I	could	just	ask
myself	what	needs	to	be	done	and	rely	on	my	own	abilities. That’s	the	next
stage.”
If	she	knows	it	is	all	herself,	I	asked,	what	keeps	her	from	moving	on	to
the	next	stage	right	now? “Habit,	maybe	some	residual	fear	that	I	haven’t	faced. You’ve	got	to
remember,	the	guys	have	been	with	me	all	my	life. I	imagine	I’ll	hold	on	to
them	until	I’m	comfortable	enough	to	be	on	my	own.”
We	are	all	at	some	stage	of	taking	responsibility	for	participating	in
creation. Gods	and	goddesses,	angels	and	etheric	beings	exist	because	they
have	been	drawn	out	of	the	raw	material	of	consciousness. The	workshop
where	this	creation	takes	place	is	Akasha,	the	field	of	consciousness. The
artisans	in	charge	are	those	with	enough	awareness	to	do	the	job. I’d	like	to
propose	that	even	if	you	don’t	feel	competent	to	make	a	god,	you	can	at	least
teach	yourself	to	make	an	angel.I	once	interviewed	a	man	who	had	remarkable	healing	abilities,	and	he
was	very	modest	about	them. He	told	me,	“I	could	teach	you	to	do	the	same
thing	in	a	few	days.”	When	I	replied	that	I	doubted	that,	he	said,	“It’s	actually
very	simple. The	hard	part	is	removing	your	belief	that	you	
can’t
	heal.”	The
same	holds	true	for	almost	everything. We	spend	our	whole	lives	projecting	a
dream,	stepping	into	it,	and	believing	the	dream	is	real. See	yourself	as	the
one	who	is	doing	all	three,	and	suddenly	the	world	of	angels	becomes	as	real
as	this	world	of	solid	things.12
T
HE
	D
REAM
	C
ONTINUES
HOW	DOES	SAVITRI’S
	tale	end? The	sun	had	already	dipped	beneath	the	treetops
when	she	ran	back	into	her	hut	and	peered	out	the	front	window. Yama	was
still	sitting	in	the	dust,	only	now	the	long	shadows	of	the	pines	completely
covered	him. Savitri	braced	herself,	saying	one	last	prayer,	and	went	out	to
face	him. And	then? In	one	version	Savitri	puts	on	a	great	show	of	welcoming
Yama. The	Lord	of	Death	is	so	pleased	that	he	grants	her	a	boon. Savitri	asks
for	the	boon	of	life,	which	confuses	Yama. “You	are	already	alive,”	he	points
out. But	Savitri	insists,	and	Yama	grants	her	wish. Savitri	rises	to	her	feet,
saying,	“You	have	given	me	life,	but	I	cannot	live	without	Satyavan.”	At
which	point	Death	is	outwitted	and	must	give	her	husband	a	reprieve. But	not	everyone	is	satisfied	with	such	a	simple	trick. I	can	tell	you	what	I
believe. Savitri	had	conquered	all	her	fears,	and	so	she	went	outside	and
danced	for	Yama. She	danced	so	exquisitely	that	when	she	ended	up	with	her
head	resting	in	his	lap,	she	whispered,	as	one	lover	to	another,	“Time	isn’t
long	enough	to	satisfy	my	longing	for	you.”
To	which	the	enchanted	Yama	replied,	“But	we	have	eternity	together.”
Savitri	shook	her	head. “If	you	are	all-powerful,	add	one	
second
	to	eternity	so
that	I	can	love	you	more	than	anyone	has	ever	loved. That’s	all	I	ask.”
Yama	had	never	been	offered	any	kind	of	love,	certainly	not	by	a	young
woman	who	had	every	reason	to	fear	him. So	he	granted	Savitri	a	single
second	more—and	thus	he	was	defeated. How? A	second	to	the	gods	is	a	hundred	years	to	mortals. In	that	extra	second
Satyavan	returned	home	and	embraced	Savitri. They	went	inside	their	hut	and
lived	as	before. They	had	children	and	grew	old	together. In	time	Savitri’s
father,	the	king,	relented	and	welcomed	them	both	back	to	his	palace. And	in
her	old	age	Savitri	wondered	if	she	had	asked	for	too	much	time,	because	she
survived	long	after	Satyavan	left	this	world. She	spent	her	final	years	in
meditation	and	became	enlightened,	so	when	the	extra	second	was	up,	Yama
was	amazed	to	find	that	Savitri	hadn’t	tricked	him	after	all. She	actually	did
love	him	as	one	loves	the	wholeness	of	life	rather	than	one	aspect	alone. This	ending	is	beautiful	and	consoling. I	would	like	it	to	be	read	when	Ihave	no	more	days	left. In	the	spirit	of	Savitri	I’ve	already	written	this	note,
which	I	will	leave	for	my	family	to	read. No	matter	what,	don’t	cry	for	me. I’m	all	right,	and	I’ll	go	on	loving	you	no	matter	what	happens. This	is	my
road	to	travel
. Every	once	in	a	while	I	look	at	the	words	for	a	moment. Somehow,	like
Savitri,	I’ve	won	nothing	more	than	an	extra	second	of	existence. It	will	be
enough. REINCARNATION
Making	an	angel	isn’t	the	ultimate	accomplishment	of	consciousness. Making
a	new	life	out	of	nothing	is. This	ability	is	known	as	reincarnation. The
popular	notion	of	reincarnation	is	simple:	we	die	and	come	back	as	somebody
else. But	how	does	the	soul	clothe	itself	in	a	
new
	personality	in	order	to	be
reborn? In	a	culture	like	India,	where	reincarnation	has	a	strong	foundation,
people	want	to	know	why	they	are	born	with	certain	karmic	tendencies,	and
whole	groups	in	society—astrologers,	priests,	philosophers,	gurus—exist	to
explain	the	process	whereby	Karma	attaches	itself	to	a	soul	and	gives	rise	to	a
new	lifetime	of	experience. Most	people	are	aware	that	Tibetans	expect	their	religious	leaders,
including	the	Dalai	Lama,	to	reincarnate	as	a	baby	who	will	give	signs	of	his
identity. These	babies	are	almost	always	born	in	Tibet,	but	there	are	cases
where	they	can	appear	in	Europe;	for	example,	about	a	decade	ago	the	search
for	a	great	lama	led	Tibetan	investigators	to	a	family	in	Spain. In	India	noted
religious	figures	are	often	matched	to	illustrious	predecessors;	Mahatma
Gandhi	has	been	linked	by	his	followers	to	great	gurus	in	the	past. Who	is	to
say	which	match	is	valid? The	subject	becomes	very	complicated. There	are	Native	American	tribes	in	which	five	or	six	children	may	be
born	who	have	vivid	recollections	of	having	the	same	mother	in	a	prior
lifetime. There	are	similar	instances	in	Japan	of	children	who	remember
identical	experiences	in	a	past	life	in	World	War	II,	as	if	a	single	soldier’s	soul
fragmented	into	pieces,	each	of	which	was	reborn	separately. Experts	in	“soul
regression,”	which	takes	a	person	back	one	lifetime	after	another,	claim	that
memories	blend	and	become	absorbed. Thus	a	great	personage	like	Cleopatra
or	Napoleon	affects	the	recollections	of	an	entire	society,	and	people	in	later
lifetimes	remember	being	Napoleon	when	in	fact	their	lives	were	simply
touched	by	him	in	some	powerful	way. People	can	become	fascinated	by	the	game	of	“Who	was	I	in	a	prior
lifetime?”	or	even	“Didn’t	I	meet	you	in	a	former	life?”	But	I’ve	known
others	who	cover	their	ears	when	they	hear	the	word	“reincarnation,”distressed	by	the	notion	that	they	might	be	reborn	as	a	pig	or	a	dog. Reincarnation	offends	Christian	theology,	which	doesn’t	permit	a	second
chance	for	redemption	after	this	lifetime. Reincarnation	is	
more
	forgiving. Mistakes	can	be	corrected;	whole	lifetimes	can	be	redeemed,	not	in	heaven
but	by	trying	on	a	new	body	and	repeating	the	same	events	that	produced
failure,	sin,	or	lack	of	fulfillment	the	first	time	around. Without	reincarnation	we	might	have	the	mistaken	idea	that	the	universe
is	ruled	by	death. Within	a	few	milliseconds	of	the	Big	Bang	96%	of	the
matter	and	energy	that	emerged	from	the	void	collapsed	back	into	it. The
remaining	fraction	still	winks	in	and	out	of	existence,	but	so	rapidly	that
matter	looks	solid	and	permanent. In	fact	everything	solid	is	transitory;	every
particle	in	existence	is	oscillating	in	and	out	of	the	void,	giving	the	illusion	of
solidity	because	our	senses	aren’t	quick	enough	to	catch	the	vibration. The
new	particle	that	emerges	is	never	exactly	the	same	as	the	one	that	vanished,
which	is	how	nature	manages	time,	location,	electrical	charge,	spin,	and	other
basic	properties	that	require	stability	and	change	simultaneously. The	same	is	true	for	you	and	me. We	exist	as	a	fluid	product	of	change
and	stability. Our	brains	look	the	same	from	moment	to	moment,	but	the
activity	of	neurons	is	never	exactly	the	same—a	brain	is	like	a	river	where
one	cannot	step	into	the	same	place	twice. DNA	reincarnates	when	the	genes
of	one	parent	split	in	half	in	an	act	of	creative	suicide	to	join	with	the	genes	of
the	other	parent. The	very	fact	that	DNA	can	replicate	itself	doesn’t	involve
the	death	of	the	mother	cell,	but	produces	new	genetic	material	that	leads	to
new	flesh,	and	the	root	word	of	incarnation	means	flesh,	from	the	Latin
carneus
. Humans	have	ambiguous	feelings	about	the	fact	that	we	are	made	of	flesh. It	befits	us	as	mammals	but	becomes	more	complicated	when	we	consider	the
dimension	of	spirit. Seeing	how	the	flesh	ages	and	decays,	how	it	betrays	us
with	illness,	one	may	not	be	happy	to	get	a	new	body	after	death—for	some
of	us	one	body	may	have	been	enough. Certainly	Christianity	takes	that
position,	its	rationale	being	
that
	the	flesh	is	innately	corrupted	by	sin,	and
therefore	it	is	far	better	to	be	clothed	in	the	soul	after	death	than	to	go	through
recycling. The	East	has	managed	to	live	comfortably	with	reincarnation	for	several
reasons. If	the	universe	is	constantly	re-creating	itself,	we	would	be	the	only
aspect	that	isn’t	involved,	which	doesn’t	make	sense. And	psychologically,	if
I	can	come	back	again	into	a	new	body,	I	may	be	able	to	fulfill	desires	and
ambitions	that	were	thwarted	in	this	lifetime,	which	is	consoling. Even	more
consoling	is	the	possibility	of	meeting	loved	ones	I’ve	lost	(or	never	gained,	if
my	love	wasn’t	returned). Reincarnation	offers	hope	for	social	advancement:
a	slave	in	this	lifetime	might	come	back	as	a	noble	in	the	next. Finally,	the
cosmic	system	of	birth	and	rebirth	has	an	evolutionary	impulse	behind	it:step-by-step,	each	soul	rises	higher	in	the	soul’s	progress	to	God. Perhaps	it	is	not	a	question	of	belief,	East	versus	West. Reincarnation	may
be	a	question	of	choice. Consciousness	is	useful. We	shape	it	according	to	our
desires. Rather	than	being	the	final	word,	the	denial	of	reincarnation	by
Christianity	could	be	simply	a	collective	choice. Having	considered	all	the
relevant	factors,	a	large	sector	of	humanity	says,	“I	don’t	want	to	come	back
to	this	place,”	while	another	says,	“I	do.”	All	we	can	say	for	certain	is	that
Nature	depends	on	the	mechanism	of	rebirth. Choosing	to	Come	Back
The	rishis	made	every	aspect	of	the	afterlife	a	choice. What	you	choose
becomes	real,	what	you	don’t	choose	becomes	unreal. But	this	sounds
baffling. Does	reincarnation	take	place,	or	doesn’t	it? Child	psychologists	are
aware	that	there’s	a	critical	period,	usually	between	infancy	and	eight	to	ten
years	old,	when	some	children	seem	to	remember	prior	lives. In	a	recent,
highly	publicized	example,	a	boy	became	obsessed	with	fighter	planes	from
World	War	II. He	wanted	
to
	visit	airfields	to	see	them,	he	cut	out	pictures	of
them,	and	when	he	ran	across	a	book	about	the	fierce	air	battle	off	Iwo	Jima
in	the	waning	days	of	the	war	in	the	Pacific,	he	announced	to	his	parents	that
he	had	died	then. Startled	as	his	parents	were	by	the	boy’s	absolute	conviction,	they
assumed	that	he	was	exercising	his	imagination,	until	their	son	crossed	a
shadowy	line	and	began	to	name	people	and	dates. He	remembered	his	former
name	and	the	moment	when	a	Japanese	machine	gun	shot	his	plane	down. The	parents	tracked	down	the	incident	and	discovered	that	indeed	an
American	pilot	by	that	name	had	been	shot	down	in	the	manner	described;
survivors	in	the	Air	Force	attested	to	the	details	recalled	by	their	son. Such	recollections	are	more	common	in	India,	where	a	general	belief	in
reincarnation	removes	the	initial	shock	and	disbelief	that	might	lead	people	to
keep	such	stories	to	themselves. One	reads	in	the	news	of	children	who
demand	to	be	taken	to	a	nearby	village,	which	they	recall	vividly	as	their	last
home. Once	they	return,	it’s	not	unknown	for	the	child	to	be	reunited	with
relatives	or	even	former	parents. Psychologists	inform	us	that	this	intense
interest	in	former	incarnations	is	temporary;	beyond	age	ten	the	old	memories
fade	and	lose	their	obsessive	quality. It’s	as	if	some	souls	take	a	while	to	get
adjusted	to	their	new	place	in	time	and	space. The	most	detailed	study	of	such	children	comes	from	the	psychiatrist	Ian
Stevenson	at	the	University	of	Virginia. Working	from	more	than	220	case
studies	of	children	who	vividly	remember	past	lives—the	number	is
increasing	all	the	time—Stevenson	discovered	that	the	most	startling	are	those
who	carry	physical	characteristics	from	one	lifetime	to	another. There	are	14examples	of	children	who	remember	being	shot	to	death	in	a	previous	life	and
whose	bodies	show	a	scar	as	if	a	bullet	had	entered	the	body,	with	an
opposing	exit	scar. One	child	born	in	Turkey	had	vivid	recollections,	almost
from	the	moment	of	being	able	to	speak,	of	a	notorious	criminal	who	had
been
	cornered	by	the	police	and	committed	suicide	rather	than	be	captured. The	criminal	had	shot	himself	under	the	chin,	and	this	child	had	a	round	red
scar	in	exactly	the	same	place. Stevenson	was	curious	about	an	exit	scar,	and
when	he	parted	the	child’s	hair	he	found	a	round,	hairless	scar	on	the	scalp	at
the	top	of	the	head. Children	who	remember	past	lives	show	a	marked	similarity	in	behavior,
according	to	Carol	Bowman,	another	researcher	in	the	field. They	speak	of
their	past	life	very	early	on,	sometimes	from	the	age	of	two,	and	typically
they	stop	around	age	seven. The	children	speak	matter-of-factly	about	dying. They	may	be	frightened	of	certain	things	associated	with	violent	death,	but
usually	their	affect	isn’t	emotional. They	often	sound	like	small	adults	and
have	quite	detailed	memories. They	can	make	startling	comments,	such	as	the
following	reported	to	Dr.	Stevenson	by	various	children:
“You’re	not	my	mommy/daddy.”
“I	have	another	mommy/daddy.”
“When	I	was	big,	I	…	[used	to	have	blue	eyes/had	a	car,	etc. ].”
“That	happened	before	I	was	in	Mommy’s	tummy.”
“I	have	a	[wife/husband/children].”
“I	used	to	…	[drive	a	truck/live	in	another	town,	etc. ]”
“I	died	…	[in	a	car	accident/after	I	fell,	etc. ]”
“Remember	when	I	…	[lived	in	that	other	house/was	your	daddy,	etc. ]”
Such	children	talk	just	as	matter-of-factly	about	the	afterlife. About	half	of
the	220	studied	by	Stevenson	said	that	they	didn’t	go	directly	to	heaven	but
had	to	wait	in	another	place	first,	which	corresponds	to	the	“crossing	over”
phase. They	report	making	decisions	about	their	next	lifetime	once	they	got	to
heaven,	choosing	a	new	family	and	new	challenges. As	one	girl	put	it,
“Heaven	isn’t	easy. You	have	to	work	there.”
Because	they	are	often	so	young,	children	who	report	past	lives	are	the
strongest	evidence	that	reincarnation	isn’t	just	a	cultural	artifact. There	is	also
the	convincing	matter	of	convergence:	all	three	categories	of	witnesses—
children	who	remember	past	lives,	people	who	have	had	an	NDE,	and	people
who	have	experienced	being	out	of	their	bodies	generally—agree	on	how	the
afterlife	works. Out-of-body	experiences	are	much	more	common	than	we	suppose,	and	a
few	people	have	mastered	them	to	the	point	that	they	become	“astral	tourists.”
F.	Holmes	Atwater	of	the	Monroe	Institute	is	one	of	several	researchers	in	thefield,	and	his	subjects	often	report	experiences	that	take	them	into	the	Akashic
field,	including	those	domains	we	associate	with	dying. What	they	see	is
completely	consistent	with	NDEs	and	children	who	remember	a	past	life. One
child	told	her	parents	that	God	doesn’t	speak	in	words	or	in	a	language	like
English	or	Spanish. This	is	consistent	with	the	esoteric	belief	that
communication	takes	place	on	the	astral	planes	by	telepathy. People	returning
from	near-death	also	say	that	what	they	heard	or	learned	came	to	them
without	speech,	often	through	instantaneous	insight	or	revelation. Are	these	children	exceptional	because	they	remember	a	past	life,	or	are
the	rest	of	us	abnormal	in	not	remembering	who	we	once	were? I	think
neither	answer	is	right,	exactly. The	function	of	memory	is	closely	attached	to
strong	emotions. Few	people	can	remember	what	they	had	for	dinner	on	a
Tuesday	last	month,	but	if	that	dinner	was	the	occasion	for	proposing
marriage	to	someone	you	loved,	it	can	be	recalled	for	years. Similarly,	these
children	seem	to	remember	being	wrenched	from	their	old	life,	and	this
powerfully	negative	memory	carries	over	beyond	the	boundary	of	death. Dr.
Stevenson	records	one	instance	where	a	child	was	born	with	a	pattern	of	red
dots	on	his	chest	and	had	memories	of	pain	from	a	fatal	shotgun	blast. On	the	other	side,	however,	it	would	be	emotionally	barren	if	we
remembered	everything	that	ever	happened	to	us. The	pioneering	
Soviet
neurologist	Alexander	Luria	had	one	such	patient,	a	journalist	he	called	S.,
who	had	total	recall. He	could	sit	in	a	crowded	press	conference	and
afterward	remember	every	word	spoken	by	each	person	in	the	room. But	S.
was	an	emotional	blank	and	lacked	the	ability	to	understand	poetry,	symbols,
and	metaphors—for	him,	every	event	was	a	literal	fact	recorded	on	a	mental
tape. (When	Luria	asked	him	if	sorrow	ever	sat	heavy	on	his	mind,	S.	replied
matter-of-factly	that	sorrow	doesn’t	weigh	anything.) Memory	is	erased	in	many	ways,	one	of	the	most	typical	being	retrograde
amnesia. We	see	this	phenomenon	in	victims	of	automobile	accidents	and
war. A	person	who	loses	consciousness	after	being	hit	by	a	car	or	struck	down
by	a	bullet	can	remember	everything	up	to	the	moment	of	impact,	but	not
beyond. After	waking	up	in	the	hospital	wondering	
What	happened	to	me? the
patient	or	soldier	tries	to	fill	in	a	gap	in	time	based	on	guesswork. If	I	am	in	a
hospital	and	my	arm	is	broken,	I	must	have	been	hit	by	a	car
. Reincarnation	creates	a	similar	gap	in	memory,	except	for	those	few	who
carry	recollections	over	from	one	life	to	the	next. In	the	space	between
lifetimes	identity	is	reshaped;	somehow	we	change	completely,	and	at	the
same	time	we	continue	as	who	we	are. The	afterlife,	then,	is	a	kind	of
transformation	chamber. On	a	cool	fall	day,	if	you	stroll	outside,	you	might
find	a	chrysalis	hanging	from	a	twig. The	pupa	inside	was	once	a	caterpillar
and	in	time	it	will	reincarnate	as	a	butterfly. To	do	so,	every	cell	in	the
caterpillar	must	be	transformed. In	its	pupal	stage	the	insect	is	shapelessorganic	goo. That	caterpillar	melts	and	reshapes	itself	at	the	same	time. Its	old
physical	identity	is	erased	entirely. All	insects	that	move	from	larvae	to	fully
grown	adults	do	something	similar,	and	just	as	caterpillars	bear	almost	no
resemblance	to	a	butterfly,	a	dragonfly	nymph	stalking	the	bottom	of	a	pond
for	minnows	bears	no	resemblance	to	its	final	stage,	nor	a	maggot	to	a
housefly. For	insects,	reincarnation	is	a	creative	leap	that	doesn’t	involve	
conscious
choices,	since	the	information	encoded	in	the	insect’s	genes	produces	the
same	transformation	generation	after	generation	without	variance. Countless
monarch	butterflies	are	clones	of	the	original	butterfly	millions	of	years	ago. Human	DNA,	however,	manufactures	new	people,	each	of	whom	feels
unique. Uniqueness	in	physical	structure	is	only	the	beginning. We	emerge
from	the	transformation	chamber	not	just	a	bit	unique,	the	way	one
chimpanzee	or	dachshund	might	differ	from	another,	but	totally	free	to	create
ourselves	from	the	inside,	using	desires,	hopes,	dreams,	beliefs,	and
aspirations,	all	the	tools	available	in	consciousness. The	Vedic	rishis	would	argue	that	consciousness	governs	this	whole
machinery—reincarnation	is	just	a	variation	on	the	theme	of	time	and	place,
producing	new	talents	and	interests. As	the	rishis	saw	it,	reincarnation	is	a
creative	leap	that	recombines	old	karma,	good	and	bad,	in	a	unique
combination. The	new	lifetime	and	the	old	are	joined	inexorably	by	millions
of	karmic	links,	yet	for	the	most	part	the	person	being	reborn	feels	that	he	is
something	totally	new. This	is	where	a	creative	leap	comes	in,	according	to	the	rishis. Think	of	it
like	money	in	the	bank:	you	may	have	only	$500,	but	you	are	free	to	spend	it
any	way	you	choose. In	karmic	terms	cause	leads	to	effect,	and	as	long	as	that
chain	holds,	event	A	is	forged	to	event	B. A	universe	without	cause	and	effect
would	be	chaotic. If	you	drop	a	ball,	gravity	makes	it	fall	downward	toward
the	earth,	and	this	result	is	so	reliable	that	it	can	be	reduced	nearly	to	a
certainty. If	Karma	were	just	as	certain,	there	would	be	no	need	for
reincarnation,	because	the	karmic	balance	at	the	end	of	a	lifetime	would	be	as
reliable	as	the	cocoon	that	produces	monarch	butterflies	from	a	larva,	not
monarchs	one	spring	and	swallowtails	the	next. Karma	isn’t	predictable,	however. People	perform	all	kinds	of	actions	and
reap	completely	different	results	from	the	seeds	they	sow. It’s	disillusioning
that	evil	deeds	go	unpunished	and	virtue	is	overlooked,	
that
	bad	things	happen
to	good	people	all	the	time. The	Vedic	rishis	did	not	mark	this	down	to	the
vagaries	of	a	whimsical	Providence. Karma	is	unpredictable,	they	said,	for	the
same	reasons	that	consciousness	is	unpredictable:
Creativity	is	innate. Uncertainty	allows	new	forms	to	emerge.The	unknown	contains	infinite	possibilities,	of	which	only	a	fraction	appear
in	the	known	world. Nature	is	change	and	stability	at	the	same	time. These	are	the	basic	tenets	of	Karma,	and	what’s	most	fascinating	is	that
we	are	held	together	not	by	inexorable	mechanics	but	by	a	deep	commitment
to	uncertainty	and	the	creative	leaps	that	result	from	that. Reincarnation	is	how	consciousness	becomes	new	even	as	it	uses
materials	that	can	never	be	created	or	destroyed. That	is	the	wonder	of	it. Infinite	change	and	infinite	stability	coexist—this	is	also	the	mystery	we	have
to	solve	before	reincarnation	can	be	fully	understood. Karma	on	the	Brain
Karma	may	turn	out	to	be	the	key	to	understanding	the	brain	itself. Neurologists	are	puzzled	over	what	they	call	“the	binding	effect,”	a
mysterious	force	that	pulls	different	areas	of	the	brain	together. Recent
advances	in	brain	imaging	show	that	it	takes	several	regions	of	the	brain	to
cooperate	in	any	thought,	feeling,	or	sensation. Say	you	walk	into	a	room,
recognize	your	mother,	and	ask	her	if	she	remembers	the	recipe	for	the
birthday	cake	she	made	for	your	tenth	birthday. Your	brain	isn’t	jumping	from
one	area	that	recognizes	who	she	is	to	
another
	that	wants	to	ask	a	question	to
a	third	that	remembers	your	past	birthdays. The	whole	brain	assigns	these
tasks	to	several	areas	all	at	once,	and	the	mystery	is	how	this	happens. If	the	brain	had	a	high-speed	telephone	system	to	send	messages	whizzing
from	place	to	place,	the	binding	effect	would	be	explained	as	a	series	of
sequential	commands. But	neurons	act	simultaneously. Point	A	and	point	B
light	up	at	the	same	time,	leaving	no	interval	for	a	back-and-forth	signal. Moreover,	the	brain	is	capable	of	infinite	combinations	that	have	little	or	no
relationship	with	one	another. Every	thought,	then,	is	an	activity	of	the	whole	brain. Even	though	a	CAT
scan	might	be	able	to	visualize	the	exact	clump	of	neurons	in	the	brain	where
a	murderous	thought	arises	in	a	criminal	mind	and	to	a	kindly	thought	in	a
saintly	mind,	it’s	the	whole	brain	that	differentiates	a	criminal	from	a	saint. It
takes	an	entire	brain	to	oversee	all	the	traffic	that	coordinates	a	hundred
billion	independent	neurons,	making	sure	that	they	all	tie	in	to	an	infinite,
teeming	conversation. If	I	want	to	perform	an	act	of	kindness,	my	brain	might
provide	me	with	a	simple	thought,	such	as,	
I	should	donate	to	disaster	relief
. This	single	thought	requires	the	following:
A	moral	sense	of	right	and	wrong
Memories	of	what	it’s	like	to	be	helpless	and	victimizedEmpathy	with	fellow	sufferers
A	feeling	of	compassion
A	sense	of	duty	to	society
These	interlocked	elements	reside	in	various	parts	of	the	brain	and
represent	unique	patterns	of	activity. At	the	same	time,	at	a	deeper	level	my
brain	has	to	remain	aware	of	who	I	am,	my	history	of	kind	and	unkind	acts,
my	unconscious	guilt,	my	awareness	of	role	models	who	were	also	kind,	etc. What’s	truly	amazing	is	that	the	
brain
	knows	how	to	mesh	all	these
ingredients	instantly. It	doesn’t	go	to	the	wrong	memory	or	feeling. It	doesn’t
forget	who	I	am,	or	provide	me	with	bizarre	distractions,	unless	I	am	mentally
ill,	in	which	case	I	could	become	completely	untethered. In	my	inability	to
recognize	that	my	thoughts	are	actually	my	own,	I	might	think	God	is
ordering	me	to	give	money	to	disaster	relief. I	may	be	aware	only	of	a	single	thought,	yet	what	my	brain	does	in
support	of	that	thought	spans	a	much	larger	extent. (Neurologists	estimate	that
a	person	is	aware	of	about	2,000	bits	of	information	per	minute	being
processed	by	the	brain. This	sounds	impressive,	but	outside	our	awareness	the
brain	is	actually	processing	400	billion	bits	of	information	per	minute. Miraculously,	it	remains	in	control	of	each	one	and	filters	out	all	but	the	tiny
fraction	that	we	require	to	be	in	the	world	and	follow	our	train	of	thought	and
desire.) I’ve	gone	into	some	detail	here	because	if	it	takes	the	whole	brain	to
produce	one	thought,	it	also	takes	the	whole	universe	to	perform	a	single
action. Like	a	neuron,	electrons	and	atoms	seem	to	be	independent,	yet	a
change	of	electron	spin	at	one	extreme	of	the	universe	will	be	mirrored,
instantly	and	without	sending	signals,	by	a	paired	electron	billions	of	light
years	away. So	the	“binding	effect”	is	cosmic	as	well	as	personal;	it	exists	“in
here”	and	“out	there.”	The	net	result	is	that	
you
	are	an	activity	of	the	whole
universe,	an	insight	that	sounds	abstract,	but	just	as	a	single	thought	requires
your	brain	to	perform	a	huge	number	of	unseen	calculations,	so	Karma
performs	unseen	calculations	to	produce	you. As	we	now	can	prove,	change	and	stability	coexist	in	the	brain;	without
both	it	couldn’t	operate. When	you	remember	an	old	birthday,	you	can	call	it
“my”	thought,	but	you	feel	no	personal	connection	to	synapses	and	dendrites
or	the	firestorm	of	signals	passing	over	them. Brain	cells	work	by	totally
predictable	means	involving	exchanges	of	electrical	charges	between	sodium
and	potassium	atoms	
and
	simple	oscillations	between	positive	and	negative
electrical	impulses. Somehow	that	mechanical	stability	produces	free,
creative,	unpredictable	thought	forms. The	rishis	asserted	the	same	about	Karma. It	is	infinitely	flexible	and
infinitely	inflexible	depending	on	how	you	look	at	it. Unknown	forces	are	freeto	reshape	you	without	your	knowledge. They	do	it	all	the	time,	since	none	of
us	has	the	slightest	awareness	of	how	our	brains	move	from	thought	A	to
thought	B.	Neurology	is	witness	to	the	event,	but	that’s	far	from	knowing	the
how	or	why. Two	people	can	say	the	word	“apple,”	and	their	brains	will
exhibit	the	same	pattern	of	activity. This	pattern,	however	perfectly	mapped,
has	no	predictive	value	in	telling	us	the	next	word	each	person	will	speak—
event	B	could	be	any	word,	sound,	or	gesture,	perhaps	just	silence. This	opens	the	question	of	how	much	choice	we	exercise	over	our	next
lifetime.
Life_After_Death_by_Deepak_Chopra.txt
Summarize the following text section accurately and concisely. Maintain specific details and numerical information, and use anti-repetition mechanisms:

        The	afterlife	is	a	journey
only	in	the	sense	that	a	dream	is—in	both	cases	we	are	taking	our	attention
away	from	one	Kosha	and	placing	it	on	another. Our	travels	remain	within	the
self	system. The	Koshas	are	also	shared. The	universe	has	its	own	layers. Experiencing
an	angel	or	departed	spirit,	for	example,	is	made	possible	by	the	countless
generations	that	helped	create	that	subworld. Shared	reality	isn’t	mystical. You	claim	your	physical	body	as	uniquely	your	own,	but	even	that	is	shared—
the	air	you	breathe	today	contains	millions	of	atoms	of	oxygen	that	were
breathed	out	in	China,	for	example,	just	a	few	days	ago. You	absorb	ideas
floating	around	in	the	mass	media,	and	at	moments	you	may	have	an
inspiration	only	to	discover	that	someone	else	has	had	the	same	idea
simultaneously. (As	a	writer	I	am	ruefully	familiar	with	the	occasions	when	a
brilliant	book	or	script	idea	was	anticipated	by	two	or	three	other	writers
within	days	of	one	another. ) So	the	analogy	of	the	onion	built	up	in	layers	breaks	down	at	a	certain
point. A	Kosha	isn’t	an	individual	possession. It’s	a	dynamic	realm	with	its
own	laws	and	experiences,	a	realm	we	can	enter	alone	or	with	others. Annamaya	Kosha
	(
physical	body
)
:
	The	physical	body	is	the	most	separate
aspect	of	the	self	system. At	birth	most	babies	are	very	much	alike
physiologically,	but	by	age	seventy	no	two	people’s	bodies	are	remotely	alike. Time	has	made	each	of	us	unique. This	material	fact	underlies	a	great	deal	of
the	separation	in	the	world,	as	people	struggle	to	grab	their	share	of	food,
money,	possessions,	and	status. They	want	to	promote	the	well-being	of	their
physical	body,	to	enhance	its	charm	and	beauty,	and	to	protect	it	from	the
threat	of	injury	and	death. At	this	level
	first	consciousness	is	biology. It	operates	silently,	without	a
voice,	as	it	organizes	the	myriad	functions	of	the	body. Yet	even	here,	if	we
look	at	what	is	happening	at	the	cellular	level,	it	turns	out	that	consciousness
transcends	boundaries. Cells	cooperate,	
communicate
,	exchange	functions,
perform	acts	of	self-sacrifice,	remain	in	balance,	keep	aware	of	their
environment,	adapt	to	change,	and	know	that	they	survive	by	being	part	of	a
greater	whole. Every	Kosha	reveals	wholeness	and	separation	at	the	same	time. If	we
look	upon	
Annamaya	Kosha
	as	the	physical	world,	it’s	obvious	that	ourbodies	are	isolated	from	one	another,	which	keeps	us	in	separation	by	giving
rise	to	the	illusion	that	we	must	struggle	and	compete	with	every	other
isolated	body. Yet	this	Kosha	
brings	us	closer	to	wholeness
	through
cooperation,	physical	security	in	social	groups,	and	shared	desires	for	food,
shelter,	sex,	and	physical	comfort. Pranamaya	Kosha
	(
subtle	breath	or	life	force
)
:	Prana
	means	vitality. In	the
individual,	Prana	is	the	breath	that	sustains	life	by	rhythmically	joining	us	to
Nature. We	inhale	all	that	is	necessary	to	remain	alive,	then	exhale	it	back	to
wherever	it	is	needed	next. There	is	no	equivalent	in	the	West	for	Prana,
except	a	tradition	called	vitalism	that	centers	on	the	“life	force. ”	Whatever
name	you	give	it,	a	subtle,	flowing	intelligence	sustains,	the	physical	body. At	this	level
	consciousness	is	the	binding	force	that	keeps	Nature	intact. Humans	recognize	that	we	are	united	with	all	living	things. Consciousness
doesn’t	recognize	higher	or	lower	levels	of	life;	it	orchestrates	diversity	into	a
wholeness. When	you	feel	connected	to	the	life-forms	enveloped	in	the
ecosystem—to	pets,	an	old	shade	tree,	the	full	moon,	a	thunderstorm—you
are	feeling	the	flow	of	vitality	that	binds	Nature	together. When	you	become
aware	of	the	incredible	intelligence	that	knits	every	cell	in	the	body,	it	is	no
longer	possible	to	say	“I	own	this. ”	You	cannot	own	life,	yet	you	cannot	help
but	be	at	its	center	also. Yet	in	this	level	separation	still	seems	to	dominate
over	wholeness,	which	is	why	human	beings	continue	to	depredate	the
ecosystem	without	realizing	that	they	are	destroying	part	of	their	own	self
system. This	Kosha	
keeps	us	in	separation
	through	imbalance,	a	disrupted
ecosystem,	pollution,	and	urban	overcrowding. This	Kosha	
brings	us	closer	to	wholeness
	through	vitality,	kinship	with
other	living	things,	balance	in	the	ecosystem,	and	empathy. Manomaya	Kosha
	(
mind
)
:
	The	root	of	the	mind	is	individual	ideas	and
thoughts. You	know	who	you	are	by	what	you	think. This	is	the	level	where
you	process	the	raw	data	of	the	world	to	make	it	meaningful. Mind	includes
emotions,	sensations,	memories,	and	other	uses	of	the	brain. The	rishis
understood	that	mind	is	organized	into	its	own	invisible	body,	a	body	of
personal	memories	and	beliefs	that	we	guard	from	harm	as	fiercely	as	we
guard	our	physical	bodies. At	this	level
	consciousness	finds	itself	at	play	in	the	cosmos	without
boundaries,	for	the	mind	can	fly	anywhere,	imagine	anything. Your	mind	is
free	to	interpret	the	world	any	way	it	wants,	and	unfortunately	some	of	those
ways	include	ignorance	of	the	self. It	is	impossible	to	restrict	the	mind,	yet
many	people	fear	its	gift	of	freedom. At	this	level	we	come	up	against	the
self-created	boundaries	of	belief,	fear,	and	prejudice. Blake’s	“mind-forgedmanacles”	create	separation	and	repression	where	none	need	exist. Mind	is	more	collective	than	individual. I	may	say	“my	mind,”	meaning
my	unique	thoughts	and	memories,	but	90%	of	our	thoughts	are	picked	up
from	society	and	its	many	outlets. A	great	many	memories	are	shared,	and	the
very	stuff	of	thought—language—is	a	collective	creation. Therefore	the	rishis
say	that	mind	is	the	first	Kosha	where	wholeness	dominates	over	separation. This	Kosha	
brings	us	closer	to	wholeness
	through	shared	beliefs,	social
conditioning,	religion,	received	opinions,	and	common	values. This	Kosha	
keeps	us	in	separation
	through	divisive	beliefs	in	politics	and
religion,	prejudice,	“us	versus	them”	thinking,	nationalism,	and	arbitrary
mental	boundaries	made	of	fear	and	hatred. Vigyanmaya	Kosha
	(
ego	and	intellect
)
:
	This	is	the	level	of	identity
dominated	by	“I,	me,	and	mine. ”	Society	places	positive	value	on	someone
with	high	ego	drive	and	will	to	succeed,	but	in	spiritual	circles	the	ego’s
reputation	is	low. Spiritual	seekers	often	feel	it	is	their	duty	to	“kill	the	ego”
and	control	its	impulses. However,	if	we	look	at	“I-ness”	without	prejudice
against	the	ego,	this	level	of	the	self	brings	identity	into	being,	not	all	the
external	things	that	ego	drive	makes	us	pursue. Identity	isn’t	a	blank	slate	for	long. It	becomes	filled	with	attachments	and
associations	depending	on	what	we	choose	to	identify	with. Vigyanmaya
Kosha	is	that	level	where	myth	and	archetypes	operate,	giving	us	stories	and
models	to	identify	with. The	gods	play	out	our	primal	desires,	quests,	wars,
and	loves. Ego	also	gives	us	knowledge	about	identity	itself,	what	it	means	to
be	human:	I	cannot	know	who	I	am	without	family	and	society. At	this	level
	consciousness	is	self-centered,	brought	to	a	focus	upon	“I. ”
Nothing	is	more	universal,	yet	ego	drives	separate	us	when	one	person’s
desires	clash	with	another’s. To	be	fair,	this	clash	develops	in	the	mind,	not	in
the	ego	itself. When	we	say	ego,	we	usually	mean	the	ego-personality,	which
is	full	of	individual	desires,	dreams,	beliefs,	likes,	and	dislikes. Vigyan	is
closer	to	unity	than	that. At	this	level	wholeness	dominates	over	separation,	as
can	be	seen	from	the	world’s	shared	archetypes	and	myths. This	Kosha	
brings	us	closer	to	wholeness
	through	a	sense	of	one
humanity,	heroic	quests	and	mythic	exploits,	and	the	need	for	self-respect,
dignity,	and	inner	worth. This	Kosha	
keeps	us	in	separation
	through	personal	alienation,	separation
anxiety,	loneliness,	and	repressed	emotions	that	give	rise	to	shame	and	guilt. Anandamaya	Kosha
	(
body	of	bliss
)
:
	To	the	rishis	bliss	was	more	than	a
feeling	of	ecstasy. It	was	the	basic	vibration,	or	hum,	of	the	universe,	the
ground	state	from	which	all	diversity	springs. It’s	possible	to	
imagine
	an
afterlife	where	one	no	longer	has	a	body,	where	there	is	no	need	for	breath,where	the	mind	doesn’t	process	data	anymore. But	there	must	be	a	faint	sense
of	both	ego	and	bliss. Ego	says,	“This	is	happening	to	me. ”	Bliss	says,	“I	feel
the	spark	of	creation. ”	Ananda	is	the	possibility	for	creation	to	manifest,	and
as	long	as	you	inhabit	the	body	of	bliss,	bliss	is	an	intense,	dynamic
experience	and	not	just	a	potential. At	this	level
	consciousness	is	the	joy	of	being. Instead	of	focusing	on
anything	in	the	external	world,	our	attention	comes	to	rest	on	the	numinous
presence	that	has	been	described	as	a	golden	light	suffusing	every	particle	of
Nature. In	bliss	you	perceive	that	separation	is	only	a	thin	veil. Behind	the
veil	shines	the	light	of	pure	consciousness. Devotional	practices	that	increase
a	person’s	sense	of	joy	can	reach	as	deep	as	the	level	of	ecstasy. But	bliss
itself	is	far	from	the	feeling	of	happiness	or	even	joy,	though	in	diluted	form	it
can	be	experienced	as	both. It	is	the	vibratory	connection	that	allows	pure
consciousness	to	enter	into	creation. This	Kosha	
reveals	wholeness	so	entirely
—through	love,	joy,	and	ecstasy
—that	separation	no	longer	holds	any	attraction. One	could	say	that
Anandamaya	Kosha	is	pure	Being	mixed	with	just	a	touch	of	individuality,
just	enough	to	allow	someone	to	live	in	physical	form,	and	whatever	form	the
afterlife	takes. Without	this	gossamer	sheath	you	would	dissolve	into	Being
and	become	bliss	itself,	without	an	experiencer. It’s	not	difficult	to	see	yourself	in	multidimensions	once	the	Koshas	are
described. The	
physical	dimension
	contains	action. You	live	here	whenever	you	see
yourself	as	a	body	separate	in	time	and	space. The	
Pranic	dimension
	connects	you	to	other	living	things. You	live	here
when	you	see	yourself	as	part	of	the	web	of	life,	a	creature	of	Nature. The	
mental	dimension
	organizes	reality	through	thought. You	live	here
when	you	see	yourself	as	the	sum	of	your	thoughts,	desires,	wishes,	dreams,
and	fears. The	
ego	dimension
	defines	your	unique	identity. You	live	here	when	you
see	yourself	in	terms	of	“I,	me,	and	mine. ”
The	
dimension	of	bliss
	holds	out	ultimate	fulfillment	through	love	and
joy. You	live	here	when	you	see	yourself	blending	into	everything	through	the
power	of	love,	or	when	you	have	no	other	sensation	than	ecstasy. Making	these	dimensions	more	familiar	doesn’t	automatically	bring	them
together,	however. Each	Kosha,	as	we	saw,	can	pull	you	closer	to	wholeness
or	increase	your	tendency	to	remain	separate	and	isolated. The	rishis
considered	wholeness	to	be	the	only	reality,	compared	to	which	every
experience	in	separation	is	a	dream. The	goal	of	life	is	to	find	unity,	or	Yoga,
and	this	can	be	accomplished,	they	said,	by	focusing	on	each	Kosha. Physical	body:
	Yoga	uses	physical	postures	(called	
Asanas
)	that	combinebalance,	strength,	and	body	awareness	to	bring	us	to	physical	consciousness. Pranic	body:
	Yoga	uses	exercises	in	soft,	self-aware	breathing
(
Pranayama
)	to	bring	us	to	consciousness	of	the	flow	of	Prana. Mental	body:
	Yoga	uses	the	whole	field	of	discrimination	(
Viveka
)	to
bring	us	to	consciousness	of	how	the	mind	works. Manomaya	Kosha	is
therefore	the	level	of	evolution	in	consciousness,	both	for	you	and	me	and	for
human	beings	as	a	whole. We	carve	out	individual	niches	in	collective
consciousness,	and	as	a	wave	of	evolution	passes	through	humanity,	each	of
us	can	decide	to	catch	the	wave	or	ignore	it,	to	embrace	it	or	defend	against	it. Ego:
	Yoga	uses	mindfulness	in	all	its	various	forms,	such	as
contemplation	and	meditation	(
Dhyana
),	to	bring	a	person	to	consciousness	of
the	“I	am”	that	underlies	all	experience. Body	of	bliss:
	Yoga	uses	sustained	periods	in	a	deep	state	of	silence
(
Samadhi
)	to	bring	the	subtle	vibration	of	bliss	to	the	surface	of	the	mind,
making	a	person	conscious	that	the	“hum”	of	the	universe	is	present	in	every
experience. I’ve	outlined	very	briefly	the	contours	of	yoga	as	a	way	of	life,	but	a
typical	modern	person	cannot	be	expected	to	suddenly	shift	his	or	her
allegiance	so	drastically. This	makes	the	“after”	in	the	afterlife	too	far	away	to
work	with;	we	must	create	more	unity	in	the	“now. ”	Yoga	was	not	meant	to	be
specifically	Indian	or	to	belong	primarily	to	ancient	times,	but,	unfortunately,
this	is	how	things	transpired,	leaving	us	with	a	new	challenge. How	do	we
take	the	fact	that	we	live	in	five	worlds	and	use	it	to	redefine	life	as	a	whole. At	Home	in	Consciousness
You	and	I	may	seem	to	live	primarily	in	the	physical	world,	yet	our	awareness
began	in	pure	consciousness,	and	as	we	traveled	into	this	life	layer	by	layer
through	different	dimensions,	each	one	gave	us	a	new	sense	of	self. We
possess	an	entire	self	system. The	rishis	studied	this	system	and	came	to
various	conclusions:
Pure	consciousness	is	always	present	in	everything,	no	matter	what
world	it	occupies	or	form	it	takes. The	physical	world	has	the	least	amount	of	pure	consciousness
because	it	is	dominated	by	physical	things	and	the	illusion	of
separateness. The	closer	you	get	to	pure	consciousness,	the	more	powerful	it
becomes. Changing	one’s	consciousness	on	subtle	levels	brings	change	to	all
the	Koshas	at	once. If	we	follow	these	principles,	we	can	gain	the	same	mastery	enjoyed	by
the	sages,	or	at	least	a	fair	share	of	it. I	posted	opinions	on	the	Internet	to	this	effect,	saying	that	basing	one’s
life	on	consciousness	is	the	best	route	to	mastering	the	physical	world. Responders	were	quite	skeptical,	however. Many	said,	in	
effect
,	“Talk	about
consciousness	all	you	want,	but	we	have	to	get	people	to	stop	destroying	the
planet. ”	Or	“Consciousness	is	all	well	and	good,	but	it	won’t	end	war	and
terrorism. ”	Or	“Good	luck	using	consciousness	to	stop	a	bullet. ”	In	other
words,	they	were	putting	the	physical	Kosha	first,	assuming	that	material
things	can	only	be	influenced	through	direct	action. How	can	one	prove	that	the	best	way	to	change	reality	is	through
consciousness. On	the	physical	level	action	seems	separate	from
consciousness. The	Buddhist	concept	of	nondoing	seems	quite	mystical	until
you	realize	that	it	means	“action	in	consciousness. ”	Action	in	consciousness
takes	many	forms. The	passive	resistance	of	Gandhi	was	an	outward	form	of
nondoing	that	had	a	huge	effect	on	consciousness;	it	brought	an	entire
historical	era	to	an	end. Powerful	ideas	are	also	in	consciousness,	and	there	is
no	doubt	that	have	changed	the	world,	from	the	Greek	invention	of
democracy	to	modern	theories	of	relativity. As	we	move	to	subtler	Koshas,	
all
action	takes	place	in	consciousness. Let	me	simplify	things	by	making	some	suggestions	about	action	in	each
of	the	five	Koshas:
Annamaya	Kosha
,
	the	physical	body:	Nourish	and	respect	your	body. Appreciate	its	incredible	inner	intelligence. Do	not	fear	it	or	taint	it	with
toxins. Take	time	to	really	be	in	your	body. Take	it	outside	and	let	it	play. Pranamaya	Kosha
,
	the	vital	body:	Go	out	into	Nature	and	sink	into	the
feeling	that	this	is	your	home. Respect	and	nourish	the	ecosystem. Do	not
harm	other	living	things. See	Nature	without	fear	or	hostility. Reverence	for
life	is	the	key	here. Manomaya	Kosha
,
	the	mental	body:	Develop	positive	uses	of	the	mind. Read
and	appreciate	what	is	finest	in	human	expression. Become
	aware	that	you	are
a	wholeness,	and	allow	ideas	to	come	in	that	support	wholeness	over
separation. Resist	us-versus-them	thinking. Examine	your	automatic	reactions
and	secondhand	beliefs. Find	every	opportunity	to	welcome	signals	from	your
higher	self. Vigyanmaya	Kosha
,
	the	ego	body:	Find	a	vision;	go	on	a	quest. Fit	yourself
into	the	larger	pattern	of	growth. Seek	ways	to	evolve	personally. Celebrate
the	vast	traditions	of	spirit	and	wisdom	that	unite	cultures. Be	as	humane	asyou	can	in	every	way,	following	the	dictum	“The	world	is	my	family. ”
Anandamaya	Kosha
,
	the	body	of	bliss:	Develop	your	own	practice	for
transcending	and	finding	bliss. You	already	know	the	phrase	“Follow	your
bliss”;	now	put	it	into	practice	through	some	kind	of	“alpha	wave”	exercise
like	meditation	and	deep	relaxation. Devote	yourself	to	discovering	what
Samadhi,	the	silence	of	deep	awareness,	is	really	like. Experience	your	own
being	as	a	reason	to	be	here. 11
G
UIDES	AND
	M
ESSENGERS
“HAVE	I	LEARNED
	enough	now. ”	Savitri	asked. She	was	beginning	to	change,
she	could	feel	it. Many	things	she	once	considered	real	now	seemed	like
phantoms,	while	the	most	profoundly	real	things	were	invisible. “I	think	so,”	said	Ramana. “Go	home. ”
“Will	you	come	with	me. ”
He	shook	his	head,	smiling. “I	wouldn’t	want	to	scare	Yama	to	death. ”
Savitri’s	heart	skipped	a	beat. “But	how	do	I	get	back. I	don’t	know
where	I	am. ”
“Or	so	you	imagine. ”	Ramana	pointed	into	the	darkest	part	of	the	forest,
and	Savitri	saw	a	swarm	of	lights	that	might	have	been	fireflies,	only	it	was
midafternoon. Ramana	nodded	toward	them. “Go,”	he	said. “I	know	you	think
I	won’t	be	with	you. That’s	just	another	bit	of	imagination. ”	Seeing	her
reluctance,	Ramana	bowed	his	head. “Everything	will	be	as	it	will	be. ”
Savitri	remembered	that	those	were	Yama’s	exact	words	to	her. She
lingered	for	a	moment	until	Ramana’s	form	disappeared	into	the	heart	of	the
forest. Then	she	walked	toward	the	hovering	lights. They	
grew
	larger,	and	she
knew	she	was	seeing	a	band	of	
devas. (A	deva	is	the	same	as	an	angel,	but	it
can	also	be	a	Nature	spirit. ) “Who	are	you. ”	she	asked. “Are	you	tree	devas. ”	In	India	devas	inhabit
every	level	of	Nature	to	infuse	them	with	life. But	instead	of	answering,	the	lights	darted	away. Savitri	had	the	distinct
feeling	that	they	were	afraid	of	her. In	her	gentlest	voice	she	begged	them	to
come	back. One	of	the	lights	said,	
Why	should	we	when	all	you	want	to	do	is
kill	us. The	voice	was	not	outside	Savitri’s	head	but	inside. Savitri	was	shocked. “Kill	you. I	would	never	do	such	a	thing. ”
The	light	replied,	
You	are	doing	it	right	now. We	are	the	devas	assigned	to
you,	yet	look	how	feeble	we	are. Savitri	said,	“Tell	me	how	I	did	this,	because	if	I	ever	needed	you,	it’s	at
this	moment. ”
The	light	said,	
You	have	been	full	of	secret	sorrow. You	are	anxious	about
death. You	think	nothing	of	us,	and	you	never	call	upon	us. That’s	how	you	are
trying	to	kill	us. Savitri	had	never	thought	of	devas	that	way,	that	they	needed	attention. But	now	the	very	mention	of	death	drew	her	mind	back	to	fear,	and	when	it
did,	the	lights	grew	smaller	and	dimmer. She	exclaimed,	“Wait. Don’t	let	me	kill	you. ”
To	which	the	light	replied,	
You	can’t. We	are	immortal. The	danger	isn’t
that	you	can	really	hurt	us	but	that	you	can	break	our	connection	to	you. We
need	your	love	and	attention,	and	in	return	we	will	help	you. “How. ”
Through	inspiration. We	bring	messages. We	can	let	you	see	us,	as	you	do
now,	and	that	will	help	you	see	your	place	in	the	divine	plan. “Is	it	in	the	divine	plan	for	Satyavan	to	die.
The author compares the afterlife to a dream, where we are taking our attention away from one Kosha and placing it on another.
What is the author's analogy of the afterlife?
The Annamaya Kosha is responsible for promoting wholeness and separation by giving rise to the illusion that we must struggle and compete with each other.
What is the purpose of the Annamaya Kosha?
The Pranamaya Kosha is responsible for creating and sustaining life, connecting us to the natural world and our own vitality.
What is the role of the Pranamaya Kosha in the process of creation?
The primary goal of the Vedic rishis is to find unity and oneness with the universe, and they believe that this can be accomplished by focusing on each Kosha.
What is the primary goal of the Vedic rishis?
The concept of projection is crucial in the Vedic perspective, as it allows us to create and shape our reality, and is the mechanism by which we create and interact with the world.
What is the significance of the concept of projection?