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294 THE TIBETAN BOOK OF LIVING AND DYINGonly when we see that we cast no shadow, make no reflectionin the mirror, no footprints on the ground, that finally werealize. And the sheer shock of recognizing we have died canbe enough to make us faint away.In the bardo of becoming we relive all the experiences ofour past life, reviewing minute details long lost to memory,and revisiting places, the masters say, "where we did no morethan spit on the ground." Every seven days we are compelledto go through the experience of death once again, with all itssuffering. If our death was peaceful, that peaceful state ofmind is repeated; if it was tormented, however, that tormentis repeated too. And remember that this is with a consciousnessseven times more intense than that of life, and that in thefleeting period of the bardo of becoming, all the negativekarma of previous lives is returning, in a fiercely concentratedand deranging way.Our restless, solitary wandering through the bardo world isas frantic as a nightmare, and just as in a dream, we believewe have a physical body and that we really exist. Yet all theexperiences of this bardo arise only from our mind, created byour karma and habits returning.The winds of the elements return, and as Tulku UrgyenRinpoche says, "One hears loud sounds caused by the fourelements of earth, water, fire, and wind. There is the sound ofan avalanche continuously falling behind one, the sound of agreat rushing river, the sound of a huge blazing mass of firelike a volcano, and the sound of a great storm." 4 Trying toescape them in the terrifying darkness, it is said that three differentabysses, white, red, and black, "deep and dreadful,"open up in front of us. These, the Tibetan Book of the Dead tellsus, are our own anger, desire, and ignorance. We are assailedby freezing downpours, hailstorms of pus and blood; hauntedby the sound of disembodied, menacing cries; hounded byflesh-eating demons and carnivorous beasts.We are swept along relentlessly by the wind of karma,unable to hold onto any ground. The Tibetan Book of the Deadsays: "At this time, the great tornado of karma, terrifying,unbearable, whirling fiercely, will drive you from behind."Consumed by fear, blown to and fro like dandelion seeds inthe wind, we roam, helpless, through the gloom of the bardo.Tormented by hunger and thirst, we seek refuge here andthere. Our mind's perceptions change every moment, projectingus, "like out of a catapult," says the Tibetan Book of theDead, into alternate states of sorrow or joy. Into our minds