Jwalant Swaroop
The other day, I met a swami from the Himalayas. His presence was striking, long beard, flowing hair, a bright white dhoti, bare upper body, and a shahtoot-colored shawl on one shoulder. His voice was calm and balanced, carrying a certain stillness.
In our conversation, he said something that stayed with me: “I have seen and met Shiva.”
It made me pause. In what form did he meet Shiva? Because for most of us, Shiv exists in familiar images, paintings, sculptures, the meditative yogi of Kailash. Yet Sanatan Dharma, at its core, speaks of Nirakaar Brahman, the formless, infinite reality. If Shiv is truly formless consciousness, then it cannot be seen like an object. It can only be experienced.
There is a subtle but important difference between seeing and experiencing. Seeing creates separation there is the observer and the observed. But experiencing dissolves that distance. If Shiv is consciousness, then it is not something outside us to be seen, but something within to be realized.
So what did the swami mean? Perhaps he had a deep inner vision shaped by devotion. Perhaps he used symbolic language to express an inner state beyond words. Or perhaps, like many on the path, the experience was interpreted in a more literal way than it truly was.
The real question, however, is not whether he met Shiv. The question is how we respond to such statements. Blind belief is as limiting as outright rejection. What Sanatan wisdom invites is inquiry.
Truth in spirituality does not announce itself loudly. It brings a quiet clarity, a deeper silence. And in that silence, a realization begins to dawn, perhaps Shiv is not something to be seen at all.
Perhaps Shiv is that state where the seeker dissolves, and only awareness remains.
Then there is no one left to say, “I met Shiva.”
