Digital Bardo: Reimagining the Tibetan Book of the Dead in Virtual Identity and Consciousness Transformation

Abstract

The Bardo Thodol (bar do thos grol), commonly known in the West as The Tibetan Book of the Dead, has traditionally served as a spiritual manual guiding consciousness through the postmortem bardo (bar do) states toward liberation or rebirth. While prior interpretations have framed the text in ritualistic, psychological, or mystical terms, this essay proposes an original and interdisciplinary expansion: that the bardo model can serve as a framework for understanding digital identity dissolution and transformation. Drawing from Tibetan Buddhist thought, extended mind theory, digital anthropology, and cognitive science, this study reinterprets the bardo states as phenomenological thresholds that manifest not only in physical death but also in virtual liminality—moments of radical ego disintegration, avatar deconstruction, and reidentification in digital and augmented environments. By mapping the six bardos onto digital experiences, this paper presents a unique synthesis of esoteric Tibetan metaphysics and contemporary posthuman theory, offering new insights into consciousness, ethical selfhood, and the future of identity.

1. Introduction—Bardo: Traditional and Modern Interpretations

The Bardo Thodol, popularly known in the West as The Tibetan Book of the Dead, occupies a unique place at the intersection of religion, philosophy, and esotericism. According to traditional accounts (Dorje 2006; Fremantle and Trungpa 2000, p. vii), The Bardo Thodol was composed by Padmasambhava and written down by his wife, Yeshe Tsogyal (ye shes mtsho rgyal), along with the sādhana of the two mandalas of forty-two peaceful and fifty-eight wrathful deities. Padmasambhava introduced these teachings to Tibet in the eighth century, and later concealed them in the Gampo hills in Central Tibet, foreseeing their immediate diminishment of influence and keeping them for the future generations to rediscover them. Karma Lingpa (1326–1386) is the treasure-finder (gter ston pa) who extracted the cycle of teachings known as the Peaceful and Wrathful Deities: A Profound Sacred Teaching, to which The Bardo Thodol belongs. Yet, as a treasure text, the ultimate spiritual inspiration behind the text is said to come from Padmasambhava.

For the Buddhist Treasure (gter ma) myth, Gyatso (1996, p. 151) elucidates that Padmasambhava actually serves as a middleman in the dissemination of Treasure. Firstly, the Treasure is transmitted by a primordial buddha in a primordial pure land (rgyal ba’i dgongs brgyud). Secondly, it is transmitted in signs by the tantric “knowledge holders” (rig ‘dzin brda’i brgyud). Thirdly, it is imparted by Padmasambhava in verbal form to individuals (gang zag snyan khung du brgyud). Padmasambhava then prepares the Treasure for burial. During an empowerment ceremony, he transmits the teaching (smon lam dbang bskur) and commissions certain disciples to rediscover it in a future incarnation at a specified time. Then, he appoints powerful protectors to keep the Treasure hidden from everyone else until the appropriate discoverer emerges at the opportune moment (mkha’’gro gtad rgya).

The Bardo Thodol offers guidance for navigating the intermediate state (bardo) between death and rebirth. Central to The Bardo Thodol is the concept of the bardo, a Tibetan term meaning “intermediate state” or “in-between.” In Buddhist metaphysics, the bardo is one of the six transitional states experienced between birth and rebirth. The text focuses on three of these bardos: the Chikhai Bardo (‘chi kha bar do) (the moment of death), the Chönyid Bardo (chos nyid bar do) (the visionary state following death), and the Sidpa Bardo (srid pa bar do) (the process leading to rebirth). Each stage reflects a distinct psychological and spiritual condition, shaped by the individual’s karma, mental habits, and spiritual realization (Fremantle and Trungpa 2000, pp. 19–22).

The Chikhai Bardo describes the dissolution of the physical elements—earth, water, fire, air—and the corresponding collapse of the sensory faculties. As the body deteriorates, the dying person encounters the “clear light of reality”, an ineffable radiance representing the unconditioned nature of mind. For those trained in recognizing this light through meditative practice, the moment of death can be a gateway to liberation (Fremantle and Trungpa 2000, p. 37). However, for the unprepared, this experience passes unnoticed, giving way to the illusory appearances of the Chönyid Bardo. In the Chönyid Bardo, the consciousness of the deceased encounters a succession of deities and symbolic forms, often terrifying or awe-inspiring. These are divided into two classes: the peaceful deities, which appear in the first week, and the wrathful deities, which emerge in the second. “The peaceful deities are quiescent and are expressions of the natural purity of attraction, that is the mind resting in its natural pristine state. The wrathful deities are the dynamic aspect of the peaceful deities and are expressions of the natural transformation of aversion” (His Holiness and XIVth Dalai Lama 2006, p. xxiv). Both are understood to be projections of the mind, and their recognition as such determines the fate of the consciousness. If the deceased recognizes the deities as expressions of their own enlightened nature, liberation may still be achieved. If not, fear and aversion draw the consciousness deeper into delusion (Cuevas 2003, pp. 105–8). The final stage, the Sidpa Bardo, is characterized by the karmic unfolding that determines rebirth. At this point, the consciousness sees visions of various realms—god, demi-god, human, animal, hungry ghost, and hell—into which it may be reborn based on its accumulated karma and the emotional states it experiences. The text provides detailed instructions to help the consciousness choose a beneficial rebirth, or ideally, escape the cycle altogether (Fremantle and Trungpa 2000, pp. 62–63). The structure of the bardo experience emphasizes a crucial Buddhist insight: reality is fundamentally mind-made. The appearances of the bardos are not objective phenomena but expressions of consciousness reacting to its own fears, attachments and expectations. As such, The Bardo Thodol serves as both a guide for the dying and a philosophical exposition of Buddhist psychology. The teaching that liberation can occur at any point—if one sees through illusion—reiterates the core Mahāyāna view that awakening is always available, regardless of circumstance (Kapstein 2004, p. 197).

The peaceful and wrathful deities in The Tibetan Book of the Dead (The Bardo Thodol) hold profound spiritual and psychological significance, both in traditional Tibetan Buddhist thought and modern interpretations.

In the traditional Tibetan Buddhist understanding, the peaceful and wrathful deities are encountered by the deceased in the bardo, the intermediate state between death and rebirth. The peaceful deities represent “the quiescent natural purity of these fundamental components of our being” (Dorje 2006, p. 387). The peaceful deities are the manifestations of compassion and wisdom, representing the ultimate, untainted qualities of wisdom, compassion, and spiritual purity. These deities are associated with the realization of the dharma (truth) and the potential for enlightenment. According to Rinpoche (2005), the peaceful deities are seen as offering a path toward liberation through recognition of one’s own inner purity and the ultimate nature of reality. These deities guide the deceased soul towards a realization of non-duality and the nature of the mind, urging the individual to recognize the true nature of consciousness beyond attachment and illusion (Dalai Lama 2004).

The wrathful deities represent “the transformative aspects of these energies, which bring about the natural transformation of the most enduring and deep-seated expressions of our mundane perceptual states” (Dorje 2006, p. 387). The wrathful deities represent the purification of ego and attachment and symbolize the fierce, transformative power of the dharma. These deities are not malevolent but are seen as powerful agents of spiritual purification, destroying egoic attachments and mental defilements (Fremantle and Trungpa 2000). They appear terrifying to the unprepared mind, as they embody the need to confront one’s deepest fears, repressed emotions, and the illusion of selfhood (Nyima 2021). The wrathful deities’ destructive power is necessary for the destruction of ignorance, leading to a higher state of awareness and ultimate liberation from saṃsāra (the cycle of death and rebirth) (Dorje 2006).

In terms of modern interpretation, the reception of The Tibetan Book of the Dead (The Bardo Thodol) in modern times has been a fascinating journey, significantly shaped by Western interest in Tibetan Buddhism, esoteric traditions, and the intersection of spirituality and psychology. This reception, particularly in the early 20th century, was heavily influenced by Theosophical ideas and later expanded within the broader fields of psychology, philosophy, and new-age spirituality.

In The Tibetan Book of the Dead: A Biography (2011), Donald S. Lopez Jr. provides a thorough examination of the reception of The Tibetan Book of the Dead in the West, particularly how it evolved from Walter Yeeling Evans-Wentz’s theosophically influenced translation to its more scholarly interpretations in later years. Lopez traces the various stages of the text’s reception, highlighting how its interpretation shifted in response to different intellectual and spiritual currents. According to the book, the initial reception of The Tibetan Book of the Dead in the West is largely credited to the work of Evans-Wentz, an American scholar and Theosophist. Evans-Wentz’s work entitled The Tibetan Book of the Dead (Evans-Wentz 1927) was a groundbreaking work, the first to bring the translation of Tibetan Buddhist texts to the English-speaking public (Lopez 2011, p. 148). Since its publication, the book has been discovered by millions of readers in the West, and the worldwide fame of The Tibetan Book of the Dead derives directly from Evans-Wentz’s volume (Lopez 2011, p. 3). In the book, Lopez pointed out that Evans-Wentz read the Tibetan text through the lenses of Theosophy and Hindu Yoga, turning the Tibetan text into an American version of Theosophy (Lopez 2011, p. 149). Evans-Wentz’s translation was significantly influenced by his Theosophical background, which emphasized mystical and occult interpretations of Eastern traditions. He presented the text not simply as a Buddhist guide to death and rebirth but as a mystical scripture that could offer Western readers insights into the nature of the soul, reincarnation, and the afterlife. This interpretation fit neatly with the broader spiritual zeitgeist of the early 20th century, which was heavily influenced by Theosophy and its focus on reincarnation, the afterlife, and the cultivation of higher consciousness. Evans-Wentz’s translation thus presented Tibetan Buddhism as an exotic and mystical path to enlightenment, which contributed significantly to its popularity in Western New Age and esoteric circles. Evans-Wentz’s classic is not so much Tibetan. It is American, a product of American Spiritualism (Lopez 2011, p. 11). It is an amalgamation of Western esoteric ideas and Tibetan teachings.

Lopez also examines how later scholars, including Chögyam Trungpa and Francesca Fremantle, sought to provide a more authentic, Buddhist interpretation of The Bardo Thodol, while addressing its Western reception and the complexities of translating a text deeply rooted in Tibetan Buddhist practice. Lopez’s critical scholarship highlights the ongoing challenge of reconciling the Western interest in the mystical aspects of The Tibetan Book of the Dead with the need for more accurate, culturally informed interpretations. As the text became increasingly integrated into Western spiritual practices, its reception shifted from a purely Theosophical understanding to a more nuanced, albeit still somewhat romanticized, view of Tibetan Buddhism.

While Lopez offers a historical and critical examination of the text’s reception, Randall Studstill applies a cybernetic model to Dzogchen, a Tibetan Buddhist tradition that closely relates to the teachings found in The Tibetan Book of the Dead. Dzogchen emphasizes the direct experience of the nature of mind, which is a crucial aspect of the bardo experience, particularly in the encounter with both the peaceful and wrathful deities. Studstill’s cybernetic approach to Dzogchen is particularly relevant to understanding The Bardo Thodol in the context of modern Western philosophy and psychology.

Dzogchen is a system of meditation practice popular in the Nyingma school (rnying ma) (Van Schaik 2016, index, p. 194). The origins of Dzogchen are obscure. It is argued that it involves the blending of elements drawn from three principle sources: (1) the tradition emphasizing the instantaneous nature of enlightenment (cig car ba) deriving from the Chinese Ch’an teaching; (2) “Mind Series” (sems sde) type teachings; (3) tantric doctrines found in Mahāyoga texts (Karmay 1988, p. 216; Germano 1994, p. 212). While Van Schaik (2012) argued that although texts from Ch’an and Dzogchen often look similar—both are meditation traditions based on the direct access to one’s own enlightened nature, similarity does not equate to influence. In his opinion, “was Dzogchen influenced by Ch’an?” is a badly phrased question, because it entails an ahistorical reification of the entities “Dzogchen” and “Ch’an” (p. 6). According to the Dunhuang manuscripts, Dzogchen and Ch’an, as forms of praxis, were both applied to the practice of deity yoga. It is in this context that one might be justified in saying that Dzogchen and Ch’an did come together, and this is not a case of influence, but one of convergence (Van Schaik 2012, p. 7). In addition, as for other two sources for Dzogchen mentioned above, Van Schaik (2004) pointed out that “Mind Series” type teachings and tantric doctrines found in Mahāyoga texts, in the early days of the Great Perfection, do not in fact entail the existence of two separate traditions, because these earliest forerunners of the Great Perfection texts were probably written to provide an interpretive framework for the practice of the development and perfection stage practices of the Mayajāla tantras. In general, “Dzogchen” may be used as a term for “ultimate Reality (Identical with the true nature of the individual) and the ultimate experiential state that realizes Reality” (Studstill 2003, p. 336). In Dzogchen, “inherent perfection or buddhahood is considered one’s primordial condition from the very beginning” (Studstill 2003, p. 338). Hence, it is characterized as “a formless and nonconceptual system of meditation conceived of ... as the final stage of Tantric practice, ... going beyond the transformational teachings of Tantra itself to the goal of the Enlightened state” (Samuel 1993, p. 464). It is often translated as the “Great Perfection” and refers to the direct recognition of the nature of mind, transcending ordinary mental constructs and dualistic thinking. Dzogchen emphasizes a state of awareness that is spontaneous, effortless, and unconditioned by conceptualization. The primary goal is to directly experience the mind’s inherent clarity and luminosity, which are seen as the ultimate nature of reality.

In his pioneering work “A Cybernetic Approach to Dzogchen” (2003), Studstill applied cybernetic theory to Dzogchen doctrine and practice, providing new insights into Dzogchen by showing in psychological terms how its doctrines and practices affect and ultimately transform the consciousness of the practitioner. He claimed that Dzogchen, based on the doctrine of the gzhi (the ultimate and only Good), constitutes a sustained assault on the system of factors and processes that construct ordinary consciousness. The assault on the cognitive system begins with Dzogchen’s preliminary practices, such as calming and insight practices, which upsets the constructive and homeostatic functions of the internal dialog. “Dzogchen view and practice completes the destabilization process by undermining dualistic constructions inherent in the path itself” (Studstill 2003, p. 357). And only by setting up the dualistic experiential context, can the cognitive system undergo ultimate destabilization. “Destabilized and open, the cognitive system evolves and a new state of consciousness emerges, one that resonates with the open or empty dimension of Being (gzhi) and its meaning-saturated field” (Studstill 2003, p. 358). Cybernetics, “a subfield of systems theory concerned with identifying general principles governing the regulation and evolution of system steady states” (Studstill 2003, p. 322), which deals with the control and communication in systems, is used by Studstill to describe how the mind operates in a feedback loop, adjusting to stimuli and evolving toward a state of self-regulation and enlightenment. The Bardo Thodol, through its depiction of the bardo’s stages, can be seen as a model for how the self reacts to the death process, grapples with the appearance of deities (both peaceful and wrathful), and ultimately navigates the transformation of consciousness (Studstill 2003).

Studstill draws parallels between Dzogchen’s focus on direct awareness and the idea of self-regulation in cybernetics. In this model, the “self” is not a fixed, static entity but rather an ongoing process of feedback and adjustment. The peaceful deities represent a state of harmonious feedback, aligning with the system’s ideal function, while the wrathful deities, representing the confrontation of the darker aspects of the psyche, manifest as a wrathful guise of consciousness to confront and liberate the darker emotions. This cybernetic framework offers a modern, system-based understanding of the processes described in The Bardo Thodol, positioning the text as not just a spiritual guide but also a tool for understanding the dynamics of consciousness and selfhood in a more contemporary, scientifically informed way.

While The Bardo Thodol is fundamentally a spiritual guide, it also serves as a profound psychological map. Its descriptions of the bardo states reflect not only religious doctrine but also an intricate understanding of the human mind. The peaceful and wrathful deities encountered in the Chönyid Bardo, for example, can be interpreted as archetypal manifestations of inner mental states—symbolizing the full range of emotions, tendencies, and latent energies within the psyche (Cuevas 2003, p. 114). Carl Jung was among the first Western thinkers to explore the Bardo Thodol from a psychological perspective. In his commentary on The Tibetan Book of the Dead, Jung noted that the deities represent projections of the unconscious—elements of the self that are revealed in the liminal space of death, just as they emerge in dreams or states of deep introspection (Jung 1964, p. 481). The peaceful deities, radiant and serene, reflect the potential for self-integration and unity. The wrathful deities, with their terrifying appearances and grotesque features, symbolize the shadow aspects of the psyche—the repressed fears, desires, and aggressions that must be acknowledged and transcended (Jung 1964, p. 485). Modern scholars, particularly those influenced by psychological and Jungian frameworks, interpret these deities through the lens of the unconscious mind and archetypes. These deities are viewed as symbolic representations of the inner psyche, revealing essential aspects of the human experience.

Carl Jung’s theory of the Self and the Shadow can be applied to the peaceful and wrathful deities. The peaceful deities, in this context, symbolize the harmonious, integrated aspects of the psyche, while the wrathful deities represent the unconscious Shadow, which includes suppressed emotions, repressed desires, and unresolved conflicts (Davidson 2012). Jung would see these deities not as external spiritual beings but as psychological projections that reflect the internal processes of individuation, where one confronts both the higher and lower aspects of the self (Thurman 2005). The wrathful deities, in this view, challenge the individual to confront their inner darkness and integrate these aspects for psychological healing. The terrifying and violent imagery of the wrathful deities is often interpreted as a symbolic representation of the destructive psychological forces that must be overcome to achieve wholeness. Rather than being seen as “evil” or malicious, these deities are transformative agents that assist in the process of breaking down the ego and transcending dualistic thinking (Thurman 2005). This confrontation with the darker aspects of the self is essential in both Tibetan Buddhist practice and Jungian analysis for achieving a state of psychological and spiritual integration (Fremantle and Trungpa 2000).

The peaceful and wrathful deities in The Tibetan Book of the Dead serve as profound symbols of both spiritual and psychological processes. From a traditional Tibetan Buddhist perspective, they represent the forces of liberation and purification encountered in the bardo state, where the deceased’s recognition of these deities leads either to liberation or continued suffering. In modern psychological terms, particularly through the lens of Jungian analysis, the deities represent archetypal forces that reflect the unconscious mind, urging the practitioner to confront both the higher, more enlightened aspects of the self and the darker, unresolved parts of the psyche. Ultimately, whether viewed through the lens of traditional Buddhist philosophy or modern psychological theory, the deities play a crucial role in the transformative journey toward liberation.

These symbolic teachings are not merely artistic embellishments but functional tools for transformation. They offer a method for confronting and integrating psychological content, guiding the practitioner toward a deeper realization of their Buddha-nature. In this sense, The Bardo Thodol anticipates many principles found in modern depth psychology and transpersonal therapy. It presents the afterlife as a psychospiritual theater—one that reveals the true nature of the self through the unfolding of archetypal imagery and karmic imprints.

The journey of The Book of the Dead from a meditative manual within Tibetan Buddhism to a countercultural artifact in the 20th-century West has profoundly altered its interpretation. In modern interpretations, the bardo has also been used metaphorically to describe moments of life transition—divorce, loss, illness, or personal crisis—emphasizing its applicability not only to death but to all forms of transformation. As Chögyam Trungpa notes, “We are always in transition… Every moment is a bardo” (Fremantle and Trungpa 2000, p. xli). The contemporary human experience is increasingly defined by a blurring of boundaries—between physical and virtual, self and avatar, presence and projection. As we build and inhabit digital environments, from social media to virtual reality (VR) spaces and metaverses, our identities become fluid, fragmented, and performed. These transitions, often unacknowledged, share surprising parallels with the bardo—the “intermediate state” in Tibetan Buddhist cosmology that encompasses the journey between death and rebirth.

This essay introduces a novel interpretation of The Bardo Thodol, or The Tibetan Book of the Dead, by exploring its symbolic structure as a blueprint for navigating digital identity transformation. Traditionally, the text provides postmortem guidance, helping the consciousness recognize illusions, let go of egoic attachments, and attain liberation. Yet the core experience of the bardos—confrontation with projections, loss of stable identity, potential for liberation or rebirth—can be seen as recurring in contemporary digital life. As users engage in identity construction, disintegration, and reinvention through avatars, usernames, and algorithmic filters, they experience states analogous to the bardos. Just as the mind must recognize wrathful deities as self-generated projections to attain freedom in The Bardo Thodol, digital selves must confront their virtual masks and the influence of hidden systems to achieve authenticity or escape digital saṃsāra. Through this interdisciplinary lens—drawing from Tibetan Buddhism, digital anthropology, cognitive science, and posthumanism—this essay reimagines the bardos not only as metaphysical transitions but as phenomenological blueprints for navigating radical change in consciousness and selfhood within digital and virtual environments. In doing so, it provides a new application for a sacred text and contributes to contemporary debates around identity, ethics, and liberation in the age of AI and cyberspace.

2. Digital Selves and Virtual Consciousness: Theoretical Context

The digital age has fundamentally transformed how we construct, experience, and perceive identity. From social media profiles to immersive virtual reality (VR) avatars, contemporary selfhood is increasingly fragmented, curated, and mediated by digital architectures. The self in the digital realm is no longer a fixed, unified entity but a constantly shifting and often curated assemblage of data, algorithms, interfaces, and perceptions. As Turkle (2011) points out, digital technologies allow people to craft “self-presentations” that are shaped by the data we share, the platforms we use, and the roles we play in virtual spaces, creating a fragmented yet fluid identity. This aligns with Buddhist conceptions of selflessness (anātman) and the illusory nature of ego. Instead of the self being a permanent and coherent essence, it is an impermanent process—a dynamic interplay of minds, bodies, and environments that lacks any inherent existence.

This notion of a fragmented, flexible self resonates with the Extended Mind Theory, proposed by philosophers Clark and Chalmers (1998). According to this theory, cognition is not restricted to the brain but extends into the environment. Tools, devices, and even other people become part of the cognitive process. Smartphones, search engines, and social media profiles are not mere tools or auxiliary components of the self but integral parts of our mental and cognitive landscape. In this sense, the digital self is distributed: a person’s sense of identity is no longer confined to their body or brain but spread across a range of digital extensions. These external components, from the devices we interact with to the social networks we belong to, are seen as active participants in the construction of selfhood.

This distributed sense of identity echoes certain aspects of Tibetan Buddhist views of mind as non-local, luminous, and empty—yet functionally active. The mind, in Tibetan Buddhism, is often described as something that is not confined to a specific place or form but is interconnected with all phenomena. Similarly, the notion of digital selves—constructed through a web of devices and platforms—can be understood as contemporary expressions of the fluidity of mind. Just as the mind in Buddhist teachings is impermanent and ever-changing, so too is the digital self composed of impermanent processes. The tools we use, such as smartphones or VR avatars, are not separate from us, but they are part of the dynamic and interdependent process that constitutes our experience of selfhood.

From an anthropological perspective, the digital self exists in a state of continuous liminality—a term introduced by Turner (1969) to describe transitional, ambiguous states where normal rules are suspended, and new identities or roles can emerge. Turner viewed liminality as a threshold experience, a space in which one is neither here nor there, where identities dissolve and new forms are possible. Digital environments, particularly those that are immersive or anonymous, often create these liminal spaces where users can experience a fluidity of selfhood.

In virtual worlds, users can change avatars, shift roles, and engage in multiple forms of expression—from playful personas in online games to curated identities on social media. The boundaries of identity in these spaces are often negotiated, reinvented, or even suspended. These experiences are akin to the liminal phases described by Turner, where users’ usual identities are temporarily disintegrated, and new identities are explored or constructed. This fluidity and transformation of the digital self reflect a posthuman condition where human subjectivity is not a fixed or coherent entity but a technologically mediated process.

This idea of posthumanism is explored by scholars like Braidotti (2013), who argues that the self is no longer the coherent, autonomous human subject of classical humanism. Rather, it is a process shaped by technology, networked systems, and machine interactions. The “death of the human” in posthumanism parallels the ego death in Tibetan Buddhist concepts of the bardos: both involve a dissolution of a stable, coherent sense of self and present an opportunity for transformation. In both frameworks, the loss of stable subjectivity can be understood as a cybernetic process, where new forms of identity emerge through technological mediation.

In this context, The Tibetan Book of the Dead (The Bardo Thodol) offers a rich metaphor for understanding the digital self’s journey through cyberspace. The bardos, or intermediate states, in Tibetan Buddhism, represent transitions through death and rebirth, where the consciousness faces a range of illusions—from wrathful deities to peaceful ones—that can either lead to liberation or further entanglement in the cycle of saṃsāra. This mirrors the digital experience where users encounter projected fears (through online trolls, cyberbullying, or threatening digital environments), seductive illusions (idealized online personas, curated profiles), and algorithmic karma (the consequences of digital actions, such as posts, likes, or follows).

In the digital world, algorithmic karma refers to the feedback loops created by algorithms on platforms like Facebook, Instagram, or TikTok. These algorithms, driven by user interactions, continuously shape the visibility, reach, and impact of online personas. As users engage with these systems, their digital identities are continually reformed, often in ways that are unpredictable or beyond their control. Like the karmic effects in the Sidpa Bardo, digital identities evolve as a result of decisions and actions (such as choosing which content to engage with or what to post), potentially leading to further entanglement or liberation.

The digital bardo becomes a place of cybernetic liminality—a threshold where users must confront their projected selves (like wrathful or peaceful deities), the illusions of identity constructed through curation and validation, and the consequences of their digital interactions. For some, this liminality may lead to transformation—a rebirth into more authentic digital selves or a more mindful, ethical approach to online presence. For others, it may deepen their entanglement in virtual saṃsāra—trapped in cycles of self-presentation, validation, and reinvention.

The digital self represents an evolution of the fluid and impermanent nature of selfhood that aligns closely with Tibetan Buddhist understandings of identity and mind. Through the lens of Extended Mind Theory, the digital artifacts that constitute a person’s online presence are integral to the process of cognition and selfhood, not separate from it. Similarly, Tibetan Buddhism’s understanding of the mind as non-local and interdependent offers a framework for interpreting the digital self as a contemporary manifestation of the impermanence and emptiness of identity. Moreover, the concept of the bardo—as a liminal, transformative state—parallels the digital bardo of the modern world, where users face the possibilities and dangers of a constantly shifting identity in a technologically mediated world. Just as the bardos offer the potential for liberation, the digital age presents opportunities for mindful navigation of the self, through which users can achieve greater authenticity, awareness, and spiritual transformation.

3. Mapping the Six Bardos onto Digital Identity Spaces

To substantiate this argument, this section systematically maps the six traditional bardos onto experiences of digital identity transformation. Each bardo is interpreted as a mode of virtual experience where ego, identity, and reality are destabilized and reformed.

3.1. Kyenay Bardo: The Bardo of Life—The Curated Digital Self

In traditional teachings, the Kyenay Bardo (skye gnas bar do) is the bardo of ordinary life, where habits, perceptions, and karma accumulate. In the digital age, this corresponds to our conscious, constructed digital persona—social media profiles, curated photos, professional networks. This is the realm of digital saṃsāra, in which users constantly edit, refine, and present their “best selves” to gain validation. These profiles serve as karma banks: every post, like, and interaction builds a history that may influence future engagements—both human and algorithmic. Just as The Bardo Thodol teaches that familiarity with Dharma in life is essential for postmortem clarity, the digital self who cultivates self-awareness and ethical engagement online is better equipped for the disorientations of deeper bardos.

3.2. Milam Bardo: The Bardo of Dreams—Immersive VR and Game Worlds

The Milam Bardo (rmi lam bar do) is the dream state, where consciousness is free from physical limitations but bound by imagination and karma. This finds a modern parallel in immersive virtual environments—VR spaces, MMORPGs, metaverses—where users adopt avatars, explore alternate realities, and interact with others through symbolic projection. Like dreams, these worlds can be lucid or confused. Lucid gamers or VR explorers may recognize the illusory nature of the environment and act with mindfulness, while others become entranced, identifying fully with their avatars, echoing the spiritual danger of mistaking projections for truth. This suggests that lucid interaction in digital dreams—recognizing the artificial nature of one’s digital form—mirrors yogic dream practices in Tibetan Buddhism that cultivate clarity, non-attachment, and liberation.

3.3. Samten Bardo: The Bardo of Meditation—Flow States in Digital Creativity

This bardo The Samten Bardo (bsam gtan bar do) corresponds to meditation, where one’s mental faculties are heightened, and the true nature of awareness may be glimpsed. In digital terms, this parallels states of deep creative immersion or digital flow—moments when users lose ego boundaries while coding, designing, or interacting with art and systems online. These moments offer a glimpse of egolessness within digital space, especially when experienced without distraction or grasping. For example, a user absorbed in generative AI collaboration or building open-source code may enter a state of focused presence, akin to meditative samādhi. However, without ethical training or introspection, such immersion may lead to narcissism or escapism—a digital pseudo-samadhi that strengthens ego instead of dissolving it.

3.4. Chikhai Bardo: The Bardo of Death—Ego Loss in Digital Collapse

The Chikhai Bardo describes the moment of death, when one sees the “clear light” of unconditioned awareness. It is a moment of both ultimate freedom and great danger, depending on one’s readiness. In digital life, this can correspond to moments of ego loss, such as being doxxed, deplatformed, hacked, canceled, or otherwise losing access to digital identity. It may also include personal crises of meaning in virtual reality, where one confronts the artificiality and emptiness of digital forms. The user here must recognize the void nature of their constructed self—to glimpse awareness beyond profile, avatar, or persona. But just as in the Chikhai Bardo, fear and confusion may lead to clinging, projection, and descent into lower states (i.e., maladaptive online behaviors, identity fragmentation).

3.5. Chönyid Bardo: The Bardo of Reality—Encounters with Algorithmic and Archetypal Forces

The Chönyid Bardo involves visionary encounters with peaceful and wrathful deities—mind projections symbolizing either liberation or entrapment. In the digital realm, users encounter similarly potent forces: algorithms, influencers, trending content, AI agents, and emotionally charged media. These act as archetypal deities—projected manifestations of societal and personal unconscious drives. The peaceful deities may appear as aspirational content, virtual mentors, or inspirational systems; the wrathful ones as cancel mobs, hate speech, or surveillance mechanisms. The user must recognize all of these as digital projections shaped by karma (past behavior, preferences, biases). Awareness of these forces allows detachment and insight. Misrecognition leads to reactivity, suffering, and further karmic entanglement in the algorithmic wheel.

3.6. Sidpa Bardo: The Bardo of Becoming—Rebirth in New Digital Forms

The Sidpa Bardo governs rebirth, when consciousness, unable to recognize the previous bardos, clings to identity and is reborn in a new body. In digital terms, this mirrors reidentification—creating new usernames, new profiles, new online communities after digital collapse. This rebirth is often conditioned by previous karma: the reputation of the prior identity, the remnants of the old digital self, the consequences of prior actions. Whether this new digital existence brings more clarity or further entrapment depends on awareness. Thus, mindful digital rebirth—taking ethical responsibility for past actions, understanding impermanence of identity, and acting with compassion—becomes the path to liberation in the digital saṃsāra.

4. Case Studies in Virtual Bardo Transitions

To ground this theoretical mapping in real-world phenomena, this section offers case studies that illustrate how individuals experience bardo-like transitions in digital life. These examples demonstrate how identity disintegration, projection, and rebirth occur across different platforms and cultural contexts.

4.1. Ego Death and Digital Chikhai: A Modern Paradox of Identity and Transformation

In 2022, a popular YouTuber found themselves embroiled in a controversy that became the subject of widespread public attention. The controversy stemmed from a series of rediscovered past videos where the influencer made remarks that many found offensive or inappropriate, ranging from racial slurs to sexist remarks to insensitive humor. As the backlash intensified, the YouTuber faced a cascade of consequences: they lost major sponsorship deals, watched as their follower count plummeted, and, eventually, were deplatformed from prominent social media platforms. This marked a moment of what could be described as a digital ego death—a dramatic collapse of the constructed self the influencer had built over years of carefully curated online identity and persona.

The idea of “ego death” is a key concept in both psychological and spiritual discourses, and in the context of modern digital culture, it can be linked to the idea of identity dissolution in online spaces. This experience shares striking parallels with the Buddhist concept of the Chikhai Bardo, a transitional state described in The Bardo Thodol (The Tibetan Book of the Dead), where the consciousness of an individual confronts the dissolution of self-identity after death.

In Tibetan Buddhist teachings, the Chikhai Bardo refers to the “bardo of the moment of death,” in which the ordinary mind encounters its own dissolution, leading to a confrontation with the ultimate nature of reality. The person’s habitual attachment to a constructed self fades away, and in this moment of dissolution, there may be a brief experience of the clear light—the unconditioned, luminous awareness that transcends individual ego and conceptual thought. This moment of clarity is seen as a potential for liberation if the individual is able to recognize it.

The digital ego death experienced by the YouTuber in question closely mirrors this process. Just as in the Chikhai Bardo, their carefully crafted identity—a persona of influencer, celebrity, and online figurehead—began to unravel and collapse in the face of external judgment and deplatforming. The constructed image that had been built over time, curated through social media posts, public appearances, and personal branding, crumbled. This public collapse exposed the vulnerability of their digital self, and much like the dissolution of identity in the Chikhai Bardo, the individual was faced with a deep and challenging confrontation with their true nature—or, in modern terms, the absence of a fixed, constructed identity.

The immediate emotional responses during this digital ego death—panic, defensiveness, and reactivity—are all hallmarks of failing to recognize the bardo. According to The Bardo Thodol, when one experiences the dissolution of the self, there can be a period of confusion and fear, often marked by reactivity to the overwhelming experience. The influencer’s initial reaction to the public backlash mirrors this: rather than recognizing the situation as an opportunity for introspection or transformation, he/she defended his/her previous statements, resorting to reactive arguments, and refusing to acknowledge his/her missteps. This kind of emotional reactivity is often the result of the ego attempting to maintain its structure in the face of destabilizing forces. As in the Chikhai Bardo, if one does not recognize the transitory nature of the ego, they can get caught in a cycle of fear and resistance, preventing any transformative change from occurring. The influencer’s struggle in the digital bardo can be seen as a manifestation of this unconscious resistance to the loss of self.

However, months of offline reflection marked a turning point. During this time, the YouTuber, now distanced from the digital platforms where they had once thrived, had the opportunity to introspect and reconsider their relationship with their online persona and the values they had espoused. This process of retreat and self-reflection mirrors the potential for awakening in the bardo: the opportunity to reassess one’s attachments, defuse the ego, and ultimately make a conscious choice about how to return to the world. When the influencer eventually returned to the internet, they did so under a pseudonym—a deliberate step away from the identity that had previously been tied to their public persona. This shift was not just cosmetic but represented a deeper transformation: their content and messaging had dramatically changed. Where once their channel may have focused on controversial or sensational content, their new message centered on mindfulness, self-awareness, and ethical media consumption. In this way, the influencer navigated the digital bardo and, rather than returning to their former identity, chose to re-enter the public sphere with a renewed, more thoughtful sense of self.

This illustrates how digital ego death, like the experience of the Chikhai Bardo, can become a path to transformation. The collapse of identity need not be a permanent loss; it can be an opportunity for re-creation and reintegration. The influencer’s journey from collapse to reflection to rebirth highlights the potential for navigating the digital bardo in a mindful way. Just as in Tibetan Buddhist teachings, where recognition of the “clear light” of awareness leads to liberation, the YouTuber’s decision to engage with their digital experience more ethically and mindfully demonstrates a kind of digital enlightenment, where ego loss can lead to genuine transformation.

4.2. Virtual Reality Therapy: The Bardo of Dream and Meditation

Clinical psychologists have begun using immersive VR environments to treat PTSD and anxiety. In one such study, patients entered a VR simulation where they confronted traumatic memories in a controlled space (Maples-Keller et al. 2017). The immersive experience often led to dissociation from ego, visual hallucinations, and reprocessing of memory. These users entered a digital Milam Bardo (dream) and Samten Bardo (meditation) simultaneously: a lucid but symbolic world where deep emotional transformation was possible. When guided with skill and mindfulness, patients reported increased psychological integration, not fragmentation. This case demonstrates the liberating potential of digital bardos, when supported by ethical frameworks and trained guides—just as Tibetan ritual readings of The Bardo Thodol require knowledgeable lamas (bla ma) to assist the dying.

In recent years, clinical psychologists and neuroscientists have increasingly incorporated immersive Virtual Reality (VR) technology into therapeutic settings, particularly for the treatment of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), anxiety, and phobias. VR exposure therapy (VRET) allows patients to engage with simulated representations of traumatic scenarios in a safe, controlled environment—reproducing stimuli with a degree of intensity that evokes emotional processing, while simultaneously offering therapeutic containment (Maples-Keller et al. 2017, p. 105). These experiences, while technologically constructed, induce profound alterations in perception and consciousness. Patients often report ego dissolution, altered body schemas, and dreamlike states of dissociation from ordinary waking awareness.

These therapeutic encounters can be understood through the lens of the Bardo Thodol as simultaneous entry into the Milam Bardo—the realm of dreams—and the Samten Bardo—the state of meditative absorption. The Milam Bardo is traditionally associated with dream consciousness, a state in which the mind navigates symbolic terrain shaped by karmic imprints and latent desires (Thondup 1996, p. 35). In dream yoga practices, Tibetan adepts cultivate lucidity within this bardo to recognize appearances as mind projections, thereby attaining spiritual insight (Norbu 1999, p. 45). Similarly, in VR therapy, patients navigate symbolic reconstructions of past trauma—scenes that, although unreal in substance, are psychologically charged with significance. The immersive simulations act as digital equivalents of tulpa (sprul pa), or mind-made forms, enabling catharsis and cognitive reframing through symbolic confrontation (Lopez 1998, p. 176).

Concurrently, VR-induced flow states during therapeutic sessions can evoke characteristics of the Samten Bardo, where sustained concentration and mental absorption allow the mind to quiet and access deeper levels of awareness (Fremantle and Trungpa 2000, p. 44). Studies in neurophenomenology suggest that these altered states, whether achieved through meditation or VR immersion, deactivate default mode network (DMN) activity, reduce egoic narrative processing, and promote integration of fragmented memory (Thompson 2015, p. 174). This resonates with the Dzogchen emphasis on recognizing rigpa (rig pa)—pure awareness—within altered states of consciousness.

Crucially, the success of such interventions depends on the presence of a trained facilitator, paralleling the Tibetan Buddhist practice of lama-guided bardo navigation. In Tibetan tradition, the Bardo Thodol is read aloud by a lama or spiritual guide during the death process, helping the deceased recognize visions and avoid becoming trapped in samsaric projections (Cuevas 2003, p. 112). In VR therapy, clinicians play a similar role: guiding the patient through destabilizing inner landscapes, providing reassurance, interpretation, and containment. Without such guidance, the same digital bardos may overwhelm the patient, reinforcing trauma rather than dissolving it (Maples-Keller et al. 2017, p. 109).

This therapeutic model reveals a key insight: digital bardos hold liberating potential when situated within ethical, contemplative, and relational frameworks. The Milam and Samten bardos are not inherently healing; their efficacy emerges from the presence of mindful awareness, skillful guidance, and the willingness to confront illusion. Just as Tibetan Buddhist practitioners approach the dream and meditative bardos with intention, modern clinicians and patients must approach VR therapy not merely as technological novelty, but as a sacred encounter with the mind’s own projections and patterns.

4.3. Anonymity and Avatar Multiplicity in the Metaverse

In decentralized metaverses like VRChat or Decentraland, users often have the ability to create and switch between multiple avatars, each representing a different identity, sometimes even non-human ones. These virtual worlds allow people to take on different personas, explore various forms of self-expression, and engage with others in ways that can sometimes be dramatically different from their offline lives. For example, one user interviewed by Boellstorff (2008) discussed how they maintained multiple identities in different virtual spaces—one for art, one for business, and one for erotic roleplay. This reflects the growing trend in the metaverse where users, liberated from the constraints of physical bodies and social norms, experiment with their online identities in ways that challenge conventional understandings of selfhood.

The ability to disassemble and reassemble one’s identity in the metaverse resonates with the Tibetan Buddhist concept of the Sidpa Bardo of Becoming, which is the intermediate state between death and rebirth. This bardo refers to the phase where one’s sense of self is in a fluid, disorienting state, and they may undergo multiple transformations as they approach their next rebirth. The Sidpa Bardo is a place where the individual is confronted with various forms and illusions of selfhood.

In this virtual world, avatars become the means of expression for different identities that are not limited by the user’s real-world body. The process of switching between avatars mirrors the continual transformation and reinvention of the self that happens in the Sidpa Bardo. Just as a consciousness might take on different forms as it cycles through states of existence after death, a user in the metaverse can embody an endless variety of personas and roles—sometimes dramatically different from each other.

However, as with the Sidpa Bardo, each reincarnation (or switch of avatar) in the metaverse can carry karmic consequences. These consequences can manifest as relationships, reputation, and emotional entanglements that affect the user’s virtual existence. A user who is constantly changing their avatar might face challenges related to identity confusion, making it harder to build a consistent virtual self or maintain meaningful relationships. In Buddhist terms, this is akin to being trapped in saṃsāra, the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth, with individuals becoming addicted to novelty or the craving for attention. The more users engage in the metaverse without awareness of their self-constructed identities or the implications of their avatars, the more they risk getting caught in virtual saṃsāra. In the Buddhist context, saṃsāra refers to the perpetual cycle of suffering and rebirth, driven by desire and ignorance. In the metaverse, addiction to novelty (constantly changing avatars, searching for new experiences, etc.) and craving for attention (through likes, followers, or other metrics of online validation) can become a virtual saṃsāra—a self-perpetuating cycle that offers momentary pleasure but leaves users feeling unfulfilled and trapped. This addiction can manifest as a deep sense of disconnection from any coherent self-identity, leading to identity confusion. Users may find it difficult to reconcile their multiple avatars (and the personas attached to them) with any authentic self. Just as individuals in the Sidpa Bardo experience confusion and disorientation in the face of countless illusory appearances—spiraling between different states of being—metaverse users, similarly, may struggle to maintain a consistent sense of self amidst the ever-changing avatars and roles they adopt.

However, not all experiences in the metaverse are marked by samsaric entanglements. Some users report experiencing non-attachment and playfulness as they shift between avatars. Instead of becoming attached to any one avatar or persona, they treat their digital selves as mere expressions of a deeper, more groundless awareness. This perspective suggests that there is potential for liberation within the multiplicity of virtual identities—a potential that echoes Buddhist teachings on non-attachment and emptiness. From a Dzogchen perspective, space, signifying a state “that is groundless and free from thought”, functions as a vector-term pointing to a process of transcending, (Esler 2023, p. 39). The meditator who steps into the space are “without mental props or reference points” (Esler 2023, p. 40). The experience of avatars as expressions of groundless awareness aligns with the idea of the “nature of mind” or rigpa—a state of pure awareness that is free from attachment to fixed identities. Dzogchen emphasizes that our perception of the world is a reflection of our own projections, and that reality itself is empty of inherent, fixed characteristics. Thus, treating avatars as temporary manifestations of groundless awareness would be a Dzogchen-inspired approach—viewing each avatar not as a permanent self but as an expression of awareness in action, playful and unattached. This openness to multiplicity can lead to a kind of liberation, where one is no longer trapped by the need for a fixed, coherent identity. Just as Dzogchen encourages practitioners to experience the spaciousness and openness of their true nature, the metaverse offers users a space where they can explore different aspects of themselves without clinging to any particular identity. In this way, the metaverse could become a playground for the kind of non-attachment that Dzogchen practitioners cultivate, wherein identity itself is seen as a fluid and impermanent process, always subject to change.

5. Digital Karma: Ethics, Memory, and Rebirth Online

Just as traditional Buddhism teaches that karma shapes one’s rebirth in the bardos, digital behavior shapes online futures. Every interaction—post, comment, like, or share—leaves traces that influence not only algorithms but also personal transformation. In traditional Buddhist cosmology, karma (las) is the moral law of cause and effect—an inexorable force whereby intentional actions of body, speech, and mind create future experiences across lifetimes. The Bardo Thodol emphasizes that karma determines one’s experiences in the intermediate states between death and rebirth, conditioning the visions and outcomes encountered by consciousness in the bardos (Fremantle and Trungpa 2000, p. 36; Thondup 1996, p. 78). Similarly, in the digital realm, users continuously accumulate digital karma—a composite of behaviors, engagements, and content contributions—that not only affect how others perceive them but also how algorithms, platforms, and communities respond in turn.

Every online action—whether a post, like, comment, or share—serves as a karmic imprint. These actions are recorded, tracked, and fed back through algorithmic filters, influencing future exposure, reputation, visibility, and social interaction. Much like in Buddhist metaphysics, where the storehouse consciousness (alaya-vijñāna) holds karmic seeds (bīja) that ripen over time (Thompson 2015, p. 150), digital platforms act as vast storehouses of behavioral data. These karmic imprints are not neutral—they shape users’ digital environments and determine how their identities are represented across contexts. As Turkle (2011, p. 182) observes, the online self is a “collaborative artifact,” co-constructed by both the user and the digital systems that organize and represent their behavior.

This continuous process of karmic accumulation and feedback illustrates how digital identity becomes self-reinforcing. If one’s digital actions are rooted in hostility, attention-seeking, or deception, they generate a karmic echo chamber—a digital saṃsāra—where such patterns are mirrored and amplified (Boellstorff 2008, p. 128). Conversely, actions rooted in compassion, authenticity, and ethical intention shape more harmonious digital ecosystems. In both Buddhism and digital life, karma is not merely punitive; it is a framework of responsibility and transformation.

Moreover, digital memory plays a central role in the unfolding of digital karma. Unlike oral cultures or impermanent written records, digital platforms preserve actions with astonishing persistence. Comments from years prior may resurface unexpectedly, often resulting in public judgment or “cancelation”—a form of digital karmic ripening. In this way, past actions are never fully dead; they remain latent, like unripe karmic seeds, until the right causes and conditions trigger their reappearance. This mirrors the Buddhist understanding that karmic seeds ripen unpredictably but inevitably, influencing not just external conditions but also inner states of mind (Lopez 1998, p. 122).

From a psychological perspective, engaging in digital environments without mindfulness leads to fragmentation and reactive behaviors. The constant seeking of validation—through likes or follower counts—reflects craving (tṛṣṇā), which the Buddha identified as the root of suffering (Thondup 1996, p. 15). This craving perpetuates cycles of digital rebirth: users obsessively rebrand, repost, or reinvent themselves, hoping to attain a stable, satisfying identity, yet only deepening their entanglement in digital saṃsāra.

However, when digital karma is approached through ethical frameworks, it becomes a vehicle for liberation rather than entrapment. Mindful posting, digital silence, compassionate commenting, and intentional disengagement can create conditions for favorable digital rebirths—new identities or platforms free from the burdens of past toxicity or craving. These moments parallel the Sidpa Bardo in the Bardo Thodol, where karmic tendencies culminate in the rebirth process. Just as Tibetan practitioners cultivate intentionality in the bardo to influence a positive rebirth, users can mindfully shape their online transitions by observing the karmic nature of their digital footprints (Cuevas 2003, p. 97).

Furthermore, the possibility of self-deletion, digital withdrawal, or transformation of online persona can be seen as an intentional death-rebirth process—akin to the Buddhist practice of phowa (‘pho ba) (consciousness transference), which is “a unique tantric practice undertaken to transfer the consciousness at the time of death, ideally to the unconditioned state of the realization of the Buddha-body of Reality, or to a realm of existence with a favorable migration, ideally the pure realm of a meditational deity” (Dorje 2006, p. 456). Traditionally, phowa refers to a practice in Tibetan Buddhism where the consciousness is directed toward a desired state of rebirth at the moment of death. This transference of consciousness is typically practiced during the dying process, helping the practitioner to transition into a higher, more favorable rebirth, or ideally, to attain liberation. The application phase (the actual transference of consciousness) may involve the guidance of one’s spiritual teacher, a qualified spiritual friend, or an accomplished fellow spiritual sibling. And, before the application phase, training conducted through specific methods is also needed (Dorje 2006, pp. 201–8). The term digital phowa refers to a modern interpretation or adaptation of the traditional practice, involving digital media or virtual technologies. It is a practice where digital tools, such as meditation apps or virtual rituals, are used to facilitate the phowa process, allowing practitioners to connect with the traditional practices in a contemporary setting. A user who deletes their toxic profile and begins anew with greater self-awareness is effectively performing a digital phowa: transferring their stream of consciousness into a new, hopefully more ethical and less reactive, digital embodiment.

Finally, this karmic logic invites platforms and designers to take ethical responsibility as well. If platforms function as karmic fields—spaces where actions accumulate and manifest—they must offer pathways to digital rehabilitation, forgiveness, and growth. Without these, users are condemned to eternal return—cycles of rebirth into increasingly polarized or performative identities.

5.1. Algorithmic Karma

Algorithms remember. They record past behavior and predict future preferences, creating feedback loops that reinforce identity. If one engages in aggressive discourse, conspiracy content, or self-objectifying images, platforms may amplify similar material, creating a digital bardo filled with wrathful or seductive deities—reflections of one’s projected mind. This karmic loop is not deterministic but habitual—a key concept in Buddhist psychology. Like the ālaya-vijñāna (storehouse consciousness) in Yogācāra, the internet stores seeds of past actions, ripening in future experiences (Thompson 2015, p. 289). Awareness breaks the cycle; ignorance deepens entanglement.

5.2. Digital Death and Memory

Death in digital space is rarely complete. Even when a user deletes an account, data remnants remain—archived posts, screenshots, cached memories. Like bardo spirits, these remnants haunt new identities. For instance, job applicants are frequently evaluated based on past online behavior, even years after content was deleted. This raises ethical questions around forgiveness, data ownership, and the permanence of digital karma. The Tibetan bardos emphasize the importance of clear intention and spiritual preparation to ensure a favorable rebirth. Similarly, ethical design of platforms and mindful user behavior are required for compassionate digital rebirth.

In the digital age, death is no longer an event with finality. Instead, it is often a fragmented, incomplete dissolution marked by lingering traces of one’s digital identity. Even when a user formally deletes a social media account or disappears from an online platform, the self does not fully vanish. Instead, what remains are data remnants—archived posts, screenshots saved by others, references in public comment threads, and cached pages stored by algorithms or search engines (Mayer-Schönberger 2011, p. 85). These persistent fragments serve as ghosts in the digital bardo—unsettled residues of past selves that continue to influence present identity and social perception, often without the user’s consent. This echoes Tibetan Buddhist conceptions of the bardo spirit, the consciousness that lingers between death and rebirth. In the Bardo Thodol, the bardo being carries karmic impressions and is pulled toward rebirth by residual desires and attachments (Fremantle and Trungpa 2000, p. 36). Similarly, a person’s online history often exerts a gravitational force on their current identity—contributing to job screening outcomes, interpersonal relationships, or algorithmic profiling. For instance, employers and institutions routinely evaluate job applicants based on old tweets, blog posts, or images—even those long deleted. In this way, digital karma outlives digital agency, operating like latent karmic seeds (bīja) that ripen unexpectedly when the right conditions arise (Thondup 1996, p. 78).

From an ethical standpoint, this raises pressing questions: Should digital pasts be permanent? Who owns the karmic residue of one’s digital life? How should digital spaces balance memory with forgiveness? These questions intersect with the Buddhist emphasis on intention, mindfulness, and karmic responsibility. In Tibetan teachings, practitioners are instructed to prepare consciously for death through ethical conduct, purification, and meditative training, so that the bardo experience becomes a path to liberation rather than confusion (Lopez 1998, p. 204). In the same spirit, users and designers of digital platforms must engage in intentional design and mindful participation, cultivating the conditions for compassionate and equitable “digital rebirth.”

Current platform architectures, however, often encourage eternal recurrence rather than transcendence. The default permanence of data—combined with monetization of attention and behavioral prediction—ensures that users’ pasts are rarely forgiven, let alone forgotten. Digital memory systems are asymmetrical: users may forget or change, but the system does not. Unlike the fluidity of bardo states, which offer opportunities for recognition and liberation, digital space tends to reify identity and punish transformation (Turkle 2011, p. 232). A person’s moral growth or changed character may be eclipsed by a single viral misstep, preserved indefinitely and circulated beyond their control.

This problem is not simply technical but moral. Buddhist teachings emphasize the impermanence of all phenomena (anitya), including the self, and urge communities to cultivate compassion and non-attachment. A spiritually mature community does not define individuals by their worst moment, nor does it trap consciousness in a karmic loop without escape. To align with this vision, platforms should design for ethical forgetting—incorporating principles such as sunset clauses for data, user control over memory persistence, and context-aware content moderation (Mayer-Schönberger 2011, p. 132). These structures would mirror the compassionate guidance of a lama in the bardo, helping users move beyond past actions rather than be defined by them. Users too carry responsibility. Just as one can prepare for the bardos through intentional living, one can prepare for digital rebirth through conscious online behavior. This includes being mindful of digital footprints, practicing forgiveness for others’ past content, and resisting the impulse to punish change or imperfection. In doing so, users become co-creators of a digital ecosystem that mirrors the Buddhist ideal of karmic purification and conscious rebirth.

Ultimately, the Tibetan bardo system teaches that the interval between death and rebirth is not a void but a liminal space full of potential—a chance to recognize projections, transcend fear, and attain liberation. In digital culture, we must reclaim the equivalent: a bardo space of digital grace, where identity can dissolve, be reevaluated, and reformed with awareness and ethical integrity. The alternative is a haunted internet—one in which our ghost selves scream eternally across cached archives and resurrected screenshots, denied the right to die and be reborn.

5.3. Compassion in Digital Space

The Bardo Thodol is ultimately a text of compassion: it guides the dead gently, reminding them that all visions are their own mind, urging them to awaken. A digital application of this compassion might include: Avoiding cruelty in public callouts; Practicing patience and ethical speech; Offering guidance to those in digital disorientation; Designing platforms that educate users about impermanence, feedback loops, and projection. As users become more bardo-literate, they may begin to approach digital life not as a battleground of identities but as a sacred field of transformation—a virtual mandala in which liberation remains possible at every moment.

6. Bardo as a Cyber-Consciousness Model

The Tibetan Book of the Dead offers a profound metaphysical and phenomenological map of consciousness as it navigates transitional states (bardos). Contrary to popular belief, the text does not only concern itself with postmortem existence. Rather, it identifies multiple bardos—such as the Chikhai Bardo (moment of death), the Chönyid Bardo (hallucination/vision state), the Sidpa Bardo (rebirth impulse), and others—that occur not only between lives but also within life: during dreams, meditation, or moments of psychological crisis (Fremantle and Trungpa 2000, pp. 4–7; Thondup 1996, p. 71). These bardos are opportunities for recognition—the direct insight into the nature of reality as empty yet luminous (śūnyatā and prabhāsvara), which can lead to liberation if realized or to further entanglement in samsaric patterns if not (Norbu 1999, p. 82).

In the context of digital life, these teachings become increasingly relevant. Just as consciousness in the bardos encounters vivid projections shaped by karmic imprints, users in digital environments confront algorithmically shaped realities, emotionally charged simulations, and fragmented self-representations. These parallels allow for the proposal of a Bardo as Cyber-Consciousness Model (BCCM), a conceptual framework that reinterprets classical Tibetan understandings of transitional consciousness in the context of digital existence. The BCCM suggests that consciousness, identity, and selfhood in digital environments undergo continual dissolution and reconstruction, mimicking the dynamics of the bardos, often without conscious recognition.

6.1. Components of the Cyber-Consciousness Model

The Bardo as Cyber-Consciousness Model (BCCM) rests on several interrelated propositions derived from both Buddhist philosophy and posthumanist media theory:

• Extended Consciousness: In alignment with posthuman and enactivist theories, the model asserts that consciousness is no longer confined to the biological body, but extended across digital interfaces, platforms, and avatars (Hayles 1999, p. 13; Thompson 2015, p. 226). This supports a view of selfhood as emergent, relational, and technologically mediated.
• Digital Identity as Aggregated Self: The Buddhist concept of the five skandhas—form (rūpa), feeling (vedanā), perception (saṃjñā), mental formations (saṅkhāra), and consciousness (vijñāna)—can be mapped onto digital identity. Online selves are composed of images, usernames, reputational markers, behaviors, and attention metrics. Like the skandhas, these are impermanent and lack intrinsic essence (Gethin 1998, p. 136).
• Karmic Conditioning in Digital Space: Digital platforms operate on algorithmic karma: patterns of behavior accumulate and shape future experiences through personalization, reputation systems, and feedback loops. Every comment, like, and interaction leaves behind a trace—conditioning what one sees, how one is seen, and which communities one can access (Mayer-Schönberger 2011, p. 93; Turkle 2011, p. 214).
• Liminality and Digital Bardo Moments: Moments of identity crisis, public shaming, cancelation, traumatic online encounters, or platform shifts function as bardo thresholds. These are psychological and symbolic spaces of deconstruction and potential transformation—akin to the Chönyid Bardo, where hallucinatory visions appear, inviting either recognition or terror (Fremantle and Trungpa 2000, p. 53).
• Freedom through Ethical Awareness: Liberation in the bardo is not achieved by rejecting experience but by recognizing its nature. In the digital context, this translates into mindful, ethical presence: cultivating awareness of how one’s actions affect others and oneself in digital space, and developing digital bodhicitta—a compassionate intention for collective digital awakening (Lopez 1998, p. 188).

Together, these principles reframe digital environments not as traps of distraction and alienation, but as opportunities for awakening. The fragmentation of self in the digital age—a phenomenon often described with anxiety—can instead be understood as the dissolution of false solidity, echoing the Tibetan path of recognizing the emptiness and luminosity of selfhood.

6.2. Implications for Psychology, Design, and Ethics—Psychology: Bardo Literacy as Therapeutic Tool

In clinical and contemplative psychology, the BCCM suggests that states of dissociation, identity crisis, or virtual trauma might be more fruitfully approached not merely as pathologies, but as transitional states—bardos. These states, while disorienting, offer the possibility of insight and restructuring. Psychologists and therapists could draw upon “bardo literacy” to help clients navigate these thresholds with greater awareness, particularly in contexts of digital loss (e.g., account suspension, doxxing, social exclusion). Much as spiritual guides read the Bardo Thodol aloud to assist the dying, therapists can serve as guides in the digital bardo, offering reflective presence and interpretive frameworks (Cuevas 2003, p. 97).

Technology and Design have become ethical architecture for digital space. The implications for digital design and AI development are equally profound. Current platforms often reinforce samsaric dynamics: craving (tṛṣṇā), aversion, and delusion are amplified by feedback loops and dopamine-triggering UX patterns. A BCCM-informed design approach would involve compassion-based interface principles—designing systems that foster awareness rather than addiction, connection rather than division. Just as Buddhist ethics begins with right speech, right action, and right intention, ethical tech must start with structures that help users recognize karmic patterns and interrupt cycles of reactivity (Brach 2019, p. 267). For example, pause features, intentional content warnings, or self-reflective feedback tools can assist users in noticing habitual patterns. Platforms could also allow ritualized closure, such as meaningful deletion ceremonies or guided transitions from one identity to another—mirroring the Tibetan phowa practice of conscious transference at death (Thondup 1996, p. 183).

Finally, the BCCM foregrounds a digital ethics of interdependence. In the Buddhist view, actions—even seemingly trivial ones—carry karmic weight because all beings are deeply interconnected. Online, this means that even anonymous or passive interactions have ethical consequences. The tone of a comment, the sharing of an image, the decision to amplify a voice or ignore it—all participate in a moral web that shapes the digital ecosystem. The bardo model reminds us that every moment—online or offline—is a potential turning point, a karmic fork in the road (Fremantle and Trungpa 2000, p. 68).

Thus, the Bardo as Cyber-Consciousness Model is not merely an abstract analogy. It is a call to redesign the self, our platforms, and our ethical imagination—to see the internet not as a distraction from reality but as a mirror of mind, filled with both hallucination and insight, bondage and liberation.

7. Philosophical and Practical Implications

Reframing the Tibetan Book of the Dead as a manual for digital transformation is not a metaphorical stretch; it is a return to the core Buddhist principle of selflessness and impermanence applied to contemporary contexts. This interpretation challenges both Buddhist practitioners and digital users to ask: what do we become when our ego dissolves online? What karmic traces do we leave behind? How can we prepare for digital death or rebirth with wisdom? Can algorithms reflect or amplify our unconscious projections? Is digital liberation possible? Such questions connect ancient insights into the most urgent technological dilemmas of our time.

Bridging Dzogchen and Posthumanism: Cybernetic Selfhood and the Bardo

At the core of Dzogchen philosophy, a pinnacle tradition of Tibetan Buddhism particularly emphasized in the Nyingma school, lies the realization that all appearances are inherently empty (śūnyatā) yet vividly manifest in awareness. This paradox—form without essence, presence without substance—is central to the experiential recognition of rigpa, or primordial awareness. Norbu (1999, p. 57) describes rigpa as the self-knowing, non-dual awareness that underlies all conditioned experiences. Within this framework, the self is not an enduring substance but a stream of interdependent appearances arising in the open field of awareness—dynamic, luminous, and without intrinsic identity.

Strikingly, this understanding resonates with key insights into posthumanist theory, particularly those articulated by thinkers like N. Katherine Hayles and Rosi Braidotti. Posthumanism rejects the Enlightenment ideal of the autonomous, rational, disembodied individual—the so-called Cartesian cogito—in favor of a distributed, relational, and hybrid subjectivity (Hayles 1999, p. 2). The self, in posthuman terms, is an emergent effect of intersecting processes: code, cognition, affect, biology, and culture. Just as Dzogchen denies any fixed ontological core, posthumanism resists essentialist identities, emphasizing the fluidity of being in techno-cultural ecologies (Braidotti 2013, p. 58). This parallel opens fertile ground for a philosophical synthesis: both Dzogchen and posthumanism urge the dis-identification with form. Dzogchen practitioners seek to cut through the illusion of the “I” by directly recognizing awareness itself (rigpa). And there are mainly two Dzogchen-based ways of addressing the problem of selfhood: (1) insisting on the self’s lack of inherent existence, which is a direct attack on the manifestation of the cognitive system; (2) performing meditative practices, which tends to calm the internal narrative and undermine the self (Studstill 2003, pp. 354–55). In addition, Studstill also adds that “the more deeply one internalizes the conviction that everything constitutes the unconditional presence of Being, the more this subverts the discriminating tendencies that support attachment and self” (Studstill 2003, p. 355). while posthuman thinkers aim to decenter the human subject in favor of a planetary, multispecies, and machinic relationality. Stressed were the deep, dynamic interdependence and entanglement between human and non-human entities. For example, trans-corporeality, a posthumanist mode of new materialism and material feminism, emphasizes “that all creatures, as embodied beings, are intermeshed with the dynamic, material world, which crosses through them, transforms them, and is transformed by them” (Alaimo 2018, p. 435). Both traditions challenge the false solidity of self and world, not as a nihilistic gesture, but as an invitation into deeper interconnection and openness.

In this cross-traditional dialog, the concept of the bardo—the liminal space between death and rebirth, or between identities—emerges as a potent cybernetic metaphor. In traditional Tibetan Buddhism, the bardo is not simply a metaphysical interval but a dynamic field where recognition (or lack thereof) determines the trajectory of rebirth (Fremantle and Trungpa 2000, p. 41). Within digital culture, this can be reimagined as the transitional states between online selves, identities, or virtual embodiments. The bardo thus becomes a conceptual bridge: a space of indeterminacy and transformation, where the techno-self may either cling to reactive formations or awaken to fluid interbeing.

From a posthuman Dzogchen perspective, digital environments are not mere tools but reflections of mind, shaped by and shaping consciousness. When a user navigates virtual spaces—be they social media profiles, avatars, or immersive VR experiences—they pass through bardos of selfhood. If approached with awareness, these digital bardos can become technological opportunities for recognizing the empty yet luminous nature of identity. As Thompson (2015, p. 198) notes, Buddhist contemplative training helps individuals unhook from the narrative ego, a goal not unlike the posthuman aim to dissolve fixed humanist subject positions.

Moreover, the Dzogchen view offers a contemplative corrective to posthumanist risk: while posthumanism may risk relativism or cybernetic overwhelm, Dzogchen insists on the primacy of awareness itself—not as a metaphysical substrate, but as the spacious clarity in which all phenomena arise. This clarity is not dissociated from embodiment; it is an embodied awareness intimately connected to sensation, perception, and presence. In this light, rigpa and posthuman subjectivity converge in the recognition that consciousness is both distributed and inherently whole—an echo chamber of appearances that, when recognized, can liberate rather than entangle.

Therefore, the bardo in this synthesis becomes more than an esoteric metaphysical state; it becomes a phenomenological tool for understanding our experience in digital, cybernetic, and posthuman life. It is a name for the instability between identities, the potentiality between iterations of the self, and the field in which awakening to non-duality becomes not only possible but necessary.

8. Conclusions

The Bardo Thodol was never simply a funerary text. It was—and remains—a guide to navigating the unknown, confronting illusions, and awakening to the true nature of mind. In the 21st century, the unknown is not only death but the disintegration and reconstruction of the self in virtual space.

This essay has proposed an original re-reading of the six bardos as a map of digital identity transformation, drawing from Tibetan Buddhist metaphysics, extended mind theory, and posthuman philosophy. It has been argued that the digital realm is a new bardo—a space of projection, fear, desire, ego loss, and potential liberation. As we move further into the age of AI, immersive virtuality, and digitally mediated consciousness, The Bardo Thodol offers not an anachronistic superstition but a timely wisdom teaching: that all forms, including digital ones, are projections of the mind—and recognizing them as such is the first step toward freedom.