This is a description for what the Tibetans call "P'howa," a preparation to ease the process of dying or to support recovery. P’howa means ‘transferring consciousness from one state to another.’ At the ‘moment’ of death, the skillful means of the “p’howa of three recognitions” allows us to direct our consciousness out of our body into the exalted state of Amitabha Buddha’s pure realm.

This is something you can do for yourself, or for someone else:

It would be easier if I could sit next to you. Maybe you could imagine that I am sitting there, and even though you probably won't see me there (but you might!), you might easily feel me there. One of the fine things that happens as our body stops is that our capacities to perceive become finer and finer. So such unlikely things as a visit from a person far away are quite possible.

So I am there. Perhaps you are asleep. Or not. Or perhaps I am asleep (though not now). Still, I am there. And I am aware of you. Gently, and wishing you well. I bring with me a number of helpers. My main spiritual teachers, for example, and their teachers as well.

So here we are, wishing you well. We wish you well as the body as it stops. We wish you well as the aliveness that arose from that body and offered you many adventures of being. We also--and deeply --wish you well as presence. It may be you have not yet recognized yourself as presence. Myself, I think you have, but it is good to have company, the company of others who know themselves as presence and recognize you as presence.

Bodies stop. It's true, they do. But presence does not stop. Presence is continuous. It changes shape and flavor but as presence it is always there. You, however much you change, are there. So we are there as presence noticing you as presence and wishing you well. By and by, your presence may let our presence hold you gently. Sometimes this looks like radiance. Sometimes it feels like warmth. Sometimes it feels like love. Presence within presence.

Presence within Presence, close in and everywhere at once. Rest there as long as you like.

My love to you, my heart holding yours.

haggadah Section: Commentary / Readings
Source: P’howa