If we understand them well, we realize that not only are the concepts of heaven and hell absent in Yazidism, but even the idea of death in its judicial (inevitable) sense has no place.
When we contemplate reincarnation as understood in Yazidism, we do not see death as an end but merely as a transition. The soul, in this conception, is not confined to a single body or a single life but is a renewing current that changes form and manifests in different bodies and experiences. In this sense, there is no absolute death, only continuous transformation and an uninterrupted journey of the soul.
It is not surprising that in Yazidi villages, there are stories of people remembering their past lives. They are said to “naskirne le krasada,” meaning “remember the past life.” Someone may recognize a house they have never lived in or people they have never met in their current life, yet they describe precise details that leave listeners in astonishment. Whether these stories are factual or symbolic, they embody the idea that the soul is not confined to a single page but is a book extending across lives and experiences.
Regarding the concept of Qadam Kohastan, upon reflection, we find that its use was traditionally limited to referring to a high-ranking religious figure at the time of their passing, such as a Baba Sheikh. However, the Yazidi does not intend this expression to signify death in the final sense; rather, it literally means “he changed his place” or “he moved position.” That is, the person’s existence has not ended but transitioned to another state, to a different rank. This understanding makes it clear that “Kohastan” does not call for mourning so much as it emphasizes continuity and passage. You may have heard that, in Yazidi funerals, many older women advise against crying for the deceased.
This idea carries many dimensions, the most important of which are immortality and perpetuity. The soul’s transition between lives and experiences is not arbitrary; its purpose is to achieve complete purity and eternal clarity. The meaning here extends far beyond merely confining the soul to a body, a geographic location, or a mythic narrative. It is closer to an existential philosophy that tells us what was eternal does not perish, and what renews itself cannot be defeated. The soul is connected to this eternal origin and cannot be imprisoned within the binary of heaven and hell as in the Abrahamic religions. Instead, it lives within a broader circle: the circle of continuous being.
Here, we begin to understand: Yazidism does not see heaven and hell as the ultimate goal of existence, nor does it view death as a final judgment. Life is considered a continuous chain, and the soul is eternal by nature. It transcends fear of punishment and desire for reward, entering a more harmonious relationship with the universe, with nature, and with continuity and eternity.
This conception opens up profound questions, questions that may change the way we perceive life itself:
- If there is no death in its inevitable sense, how does the meaning of living change?
- Does morality become a free practice arising from our essence, rather than from fear or desire?
- Could painful and joyful experiences alike be mere stages that help the soul mature and reach fuller awareness?
Here, we recall what Sam Harris says: consciousness is not an idea in the brain, but the experience itself, the moment we live now. If we connect this with the Yazidi understanding, reincarnation becomes akin to consciousness continually renewing itself, moving from one experience to another, from one form to another, without disappearing.
Carl Jung, in turn, speaks of the “collective unconscious,” the shared repository among all humans, carrying timeless symbols and experiences. From a Yazidi perspective, the soul in its journeys does not separate from this repository but participates in it and draws enrichment from it. It remains part of a vast cosmic memory, rediscovering itself anew in each life. This explains why a Yazidi says that difficult circumstances or people who cause harm are merely experiences for the soul to experience, to learn, to understand, and to draw closer to its ultimate goal: purity or perfection.
In this sense, Yazidism does not stop at the boundaries of religion but offers a cosmic vision of existence. A vision that tells you: you are not a grave to be closed upon, nor a body to perish, nor a judgment to cast you into heaven or hell. You are a flowing river: returning, renewing, and continuing until the soul reaches complete purity and perfection.
