There are many chants to Śiva, and there are many aspects of Śiva, as we have already seen in the Oṁ Tryambakaṁ mantra (page 103) and the Guru Mantra (page 33). Those mantras capture Śiva’s well-known association with death. In this mantra, Śiva is presented in his highest and most all-encompassing form. This grand form of Śiva appeared originally within the Veda and then reappeared in the Śiva Purāṇa and other texts of the Shaivite tradition. The term Shaivite refers to those who view Śiva and his various forms as the supreme deity above all others, whereas Vaishnavites regard Viṣṇu and his various forms as the supreme deity. Shaivites believe that Śiva is not only embodied in ways that make him more personal, but that Śiva is the ultimate form of the supreme source — an impersonal form that is the essence of all things and responsible for all of creation. Śiva’s all-pervading essence is said to be rooted in this great mantra:
oṁ namaḥ śivāya
oṁ I invoke the supreme essence of Śiva!
This mantra’s five syllables are counted as: namaḥ śivāya. This mantra is said to be untranslatable because of its timelessness; this is a reference to Śiva as the ultimate, all-pervasive form of the source as well as the fact that the sounds of the syllables themselves are endless and contain great power. Each syllable is inexhaustible — there are no hard linguistic stops, and the sounds only need interrupting because we run out of breath — and each syllable is said to encompass the scope of every known aspect of the universe. When chanting this mantra, you’ll often hear the oṁ at the beginning, which is the bīja mantra, or seed sound, of the universe, and so in a way, it “kicks off” the rest of these syllables. However, sometimes the oṁ is left off to focus only on the five syllables contained in this precious mantra. While Śiva is specifically named (namaḥ), the energy of this chant invokes not a specific form of Śiva, but rather his greatest form as the cosmic source, or internally, as our highest self. Chanting this mantra (either in a kirtan setting or alone) brings a clarity of mind and a sense of elevated purpose to one’s life.
As one of the most historic gods from the Vedic tradition (and probably even before!), Śiva has a long past that has given him a variety of epithets, aspects, and incantations. Among his many names are Hara (remover of death), Rudra (remover of pain), and Maheśvara (great lord); we also understand him as the impetuous, ash-covered yogi and the lord of immortality. Originally, the name Śiva may have only been an indicator for the numinous source, or the highest self. Eventually, Śiva’s various forms became more distinguished and notorious, and he developed into one of the great triumvirate alongside Brahmā and Viṣṇu. Long misunderstood as the “god of destruction,” Śiva gets a bad rap that doesn’t really cover the gamut of what he is capable of in this grander, more historic form. For example, Śiva’s early form absorbed both Brahmā and Viṣṇu, so that he contained all three essential powers — birth, life, and death. In the Shaivite tradition, which is still very much active, devotees look upon Śiva as the god above all others and containing all others. We find this cosmic description of Śiva, known as Rudra, in the Kaivalya Upaniṣad:
He is the Creator, the lord of sleep,
And Indra, the lord of heaven;
Indestructible, supreme, self-resplendent.
He is the Pervader, the life breath,
The fire of destruction, and the devoured offering (the moon).
He is all that has been or shall be, eternal.
Knowing him, one crosses beyond death.
There is no other way to liberation (Kaivalya).10
Running through Śiva’s historic variety of manifestations are some common motifs — that he embodies the five elements, has three eyes, is the source of internal bliss, and is the “lord of sleep.” The lord of sleep designation is different from Viṣṇu, whose dream state is said to bring into existence our waking reality. Rather, Śiva’s deep sleep is the one we all experience but never remember. In the yogic view, this deep-sleep state is the time we spend recharging with the numinous source, kind of like when we plug in our iPhone or BlackBerry at night. The reason that we never remember this period is that our conscious mind shuts down in order to get close to the highest self. If we were to develop our awareness to a state that we could remember this, we would be like the all-knowing, all-seeing source that is aware of all moments of time: Śiva.
Śiva is equipped for anything. His drum, the ḍamaru, which is shaped like two triangles whose points meet in the middle, is a symbol of the rhythms that bring all manifestation into being.11 He carries a trident, whose three points represent each of the three qualities of the universe (guṇa), over which he has mastery. He stands on a tiger’s pelt as a symbol of his power over nature. He’s rumored to have slain the tiger when he was thrown into a pit by a couple of jealous sages whose wives thought he was quite a good-looking dude. And he has three eyes. Apparently, one day, in a playful mood, Pārvatī came up behind Śiva and covered his eyes, saying, “Guess who?” But Śiva couldn’t see anything. In order to be able to continue to see all of creation, he manifested a third eye in the middle of his forehead. He then guessed correctly that it was Pārvatī standing behind him. Finally, Śiva is cloaked in ash (the sacred vibhūti of the fire ceremony), has dreadlocked hair (in which the crescent moon is nestled), and is covered in cobras because he is beyond the fear of death.12
Śiva is the original yogi. All forms of the practice come from his initial realization of yoga on top of Mount Kailāsa. He’s the original yoga teacher, and his teachings are contained within the cave of the heart (hṛdayam) in his form as Maheśvara. We find these hidden teachings within us through yoga practices, but particularly through the power of sound and speech, over which Śiva also has dominion. In his form as the lord of the dance (Nāṭarāja), the rhythm of his ḍamaru brings about existence itself, and “the process of the manifestation of thought into speech is equated with the process of cosmic manifestation through which Śiva gives birth to the universe.”13 And much of creation is grouped into fives, which we see reflected throughout Śiva’s aspects and the elements of the universe: earth, fire, wind, water, and ether. The manifestation of thought into speech is reflected in Śiva’s five-fold components, which are akin to the five kośa (or sheaths; for a description, see the Gāyatrī Mantra, page 65).
First, we have Śiva as the conqueror of death. This is the moment of silence. When one knows oneself to be deathless, then the source of all things is found, and silence is the expression. There is utter peace and joy in this form of Śiva, known as the liberator, or mṛtyuṁjaya (see the Oṁ Tryambakaṁ mantra, page 103), and so it is associated with ānandamaya kośa. Second is the image of Dakṣiṇāmūrti, the south-facing god who faces the flow of the light from the sun, which is the carrier of the knowledge of the intellect (buddhi). This image is depicted atop the rhythm of the letters of the mantra because “to take form, knowledge will depend upon the device of language. The word is the manifested form of knowledge.”14 And so Dakṣiṇāmūrti is associated with the vijñānamaya kośa. When knowledge turns into thinking and ambition, then words begin to express desire and attachment. The form of Śiva embodied here is known as Kāmeśvara, or the “lord of lust.” This desirous aspect is dominated by the five senses, which are ever-present in the manomaya kośa as our mental energy turns outward. When life expresses itself through the life force, prāṇa, which we feel as the breath (for more, see The Three Mahāvakyas mantra, page 111), Śiva appears as Paśupati, the great, benevolent lord of the world. Prāṇa is contained within the five vital energies (known as prāṇavāyu) of the prāṇamaya kośa, which give expression to our words, just as prāṇa gives expression to all forms of life. Finally, we see the ultimate manifestation both of being and language expressed in Śiva’s fifth form, Bhūteśa. As the lord of the five elements, Bhūteśa embodies the physical layer of annamaya kośa. This aspect is mirrored in the ultimate expression of thought into speech (vāk). And there we have it — the five layers of Śiva, the five elements, the five expressions of thought into speech, and the five kośa.
But wait, there’s more.
Śiva also has a five-faced expression, with four heads facing each of the cardinal directions, and one head facing the sky. It seems that Śiva is dominated by the number five, as well as by the power of sound. It’s no wonder that everything he is said to embody can be felt and learned within the five-syllable mantra that invokes his essence: namaḥ śivāya.
The ultimate yogi. The five-faced knower of all. The ash-covered meditating mendicant. The loyal husband of the ever-evolving Pārvatī. The dreadlocked deity whose popularity has survived since antiquity. Śiva is cool as a cucumber. It’s no wonder that chanting his name and invoking his presence can confer unbelievable boons. The legendary sage Vyasa discovered this and realized the essential secret of life.
According to a story in the Śiva Purāṇa, the great sage Vyasa, who legend says wrote many of the sacred spiritual texts in the Vedic tradition (including the Mahābhārata, eighteen of the Upaniṣad, and compiled the Veda into four books), was locked in a state of constant meditation along the Sarasvatī River. He was doing his best to attain a state of enlightenment through enormous effort and penance. Another sage, Sanat Kumara, came flying in on a fancy chariot and asked Vyasa exactly what he was doing. Vyasa said, “Well, I’m trying to achieve the supreme knowledge of the numinous through intense meditation and ascetic practices. But it’s really hard.”
Sanat Kumara took pity on Vyasa. He’d been around the block and seen people work their tails off just to attain some modicum of spiritual evolution. It was difficult to watch people struggle and suffer along the spiritual path, so he offered some sagely advice.
“You know, Vyasa? There was a time that I did it the hard way, too. I thought that austere penance and crazy bouts of meditation would earn me cosmic chits toward peace and salvation. Not so, it just made me more tense and earnest in my striving. Eventually, I learned that the best way to finding a sense of freedom is through hearing and singing to Śiva. Through proper listening and mantra, all my delusions were destroyed, and I realized the power of satchitananda: being, consciousness, and bliss. It is the mere chanting of Śiva’s name that allowed me to realize this.”
Here’s the simple truth. Enjoy life. Because this life is just too short for anything else. Śiva’s different aspects and attitudes show us this. Sometimes he gets angry, so he makes up for it. He meditates, and then balances this by hanging out with his wife and two sons. He loves his cow, and he is always a little bit intoxicated by the nectar of the moon. He is cool as a cucumber and through his cool-headedness, he shows us how to be that way, too. His mantra, namaḥ śivāya, is a gateway to access that feeling, and to come to know our own satchitananda (satcitānanda), which is the blissful point of our existence. To follow our bliss is to lead a rich and wonderful life. Joseph Campbell explains it this way:
The word “Sat” means being. “Chit” means consciousness. “Ananda” means bliss or rapture. I thought, “I don’t know whether my consciousness is proper consciousness or not; I don’t know whether what I know of my being is proper being or not; but I do know where my rapture is, so let me hang on to rapture, and that will bring me both my consciousness and my being.” I think it worked.15
No matter how we get there, the key to a life well lived is finding the source of our “rapture.” Not crazy asceticism. Not spiritual hierarchy. Not dogma or doctrine. Not slaving away to fulfill any “should” or “should not.” But, purely and simply, finding our bliss. Campbell hit on something when he translated this point for the Western mind. It’s a concept that embodies the nature of yoga itself, which is pure bliss. And, remember, the nature of yoga is our true nature. It exists within us from the moment we come into this life and will be with us until the moment we exit this life. How do we find it?
We listen.