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Why God Doesn’t Speak in Words

For years, I waited for God to speak.


I thought a voice would thunder through the clouds.

Or a dream would carry divine messages.

Or maybe during deep meditation, a whisper would finally say:

“You are ready.”


But none of that happened.


No voice.

No message.

No confirmation.


Just silence.


And in that silence,

everything was said.


woman hiking with backpack

We Expect God to Speak Like a Person

That’s the mistake.

We imagine God as a bigger version of ourselves—

a supreme being who uses words, ideas, intentions, motives.


We project mind onto the Divine.


But the Truth is not a person.

It doesn’t think.

It doesn’t choose.

It doesn’t speak in the way we do.


God’s language is silence.

Presence.

Being.


It is never absent.

Only unnoticed.




The Voice You’re Listening For Will Never Come

Because the very one waiting to hear it

is the illusion.


It’s like a mirage chasing water.


The seeker wants reassurance,

a divine pat on the back,

a mystical “yes” to validate the path.


But God doesn’t validate.

God dissolves.


The closer you move to Truth,

the less you hear,

and the more you are.


The transmission is not in the word—

but in the wordless.




God Has Already Spoken

Not in a language of the tongue,

but in the language of what is.


Look around:


The wind doesn’t need words.

The mountains don’t explain.

The eyes of a child don’t justify their wonder.


The stars didn’t wait for permission to shine.

The ocean doesn’t need a reason to roar.


Existence is God’s voice.

It’s never not speaking.


It’s just not personal.




The Problem Is Not God’s Silence—It’s Our Noise

The mind is loud.

It spins stories, doubts, expectations, images.


It says:

“God should come like this.”

“I’ll know it’s real when I feel that.”

“Why haven’t I had that experience?”


But God isn’t hiding.

It’s our filters that obscure the obvious.


As long as we demand a certain form,

we miss the formless.


It’s not that God doesn’t speak.

It’s that we don’t know how to listen.


om symbol on beach

Listening Without the Mind

To hear the unspoken,

you have to be willing to stop interpreting.


Stop chasing experiences.

Stop looking for signs.

Stop trying to “understand” God.


Instead, be still.

Not to receive—

but to remember.


To fall into the simplicity of being.


There, a new listening opens.


Not through ears—

but through presence.


And you realize:


God has never stopped speaking.

You’ve just stopped listening in the right place.




I Mistook Silence for Absence

There was a time when I cried out in despair,

begging God to show Himself.


I thought I was alone.


But that very silence—

the one I thought meant abandonment—

was the answer.


It stripped me of expectations.

It emptied me of “me.”

It humbled the one who wanted divine approval.


And in that emptiness,

I met God.


Not as an object.

But as the space I had always been.




God Isn’t Found. God Is Remembered.

This is not a search with a finish line.

It’s a dissolving.


You don’t “reach” God.

You stop being what you are not.


And in the absence of the seeker,

God remains.


The voice you wanted to hear

was never outside of you.


It was the stillness you were running from.




So How Do You Know It’s God?

You don’t.


You can’t claim it.

You can’t define it.

You can’t wrap it in words.


But you can live from it.


In that stillness, you begin to move without fear.

Love without conditions.

Act without a self.


Not because you’ve mastered spirituality—

but because there’s no one left to get in the way.


You become a servant of what is.


Not a preacher.

Not a knower.

A servant.




Let the Silence Teach You

I no longer wait for God to speak.


I walk quietly,

watching how everything moves without effort.


I sit with seekers,

not to give them answers,

but to let the silence between us do what words cannot.


This is the real transmission.


Not from mouth to ear,

but from emptiness to emptiness.


sukhdev virdee

If You’re Longing for a Sign…

Then maybe this is it.


Not these words—

but what remains when they fade.


A pointer to what you already know.

A reminder of what you are.


If your heart is stirred by this,

if the silence speaks louder than sound—


🕊️ Then come closer.


You can start by receiving my free guide:


where we don’t chase words—

we dissolve into what cannot be said.

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