Even though Self-Inquiry is beautifully straightforward—simply tracing every thought back to its source by asking “Who am I?”—the timetable for realization varies wildly. Some lucky souls report a piercing insight almost overnight, like lightning cleaving the sky. Others feel gently guided over years, peeling away layer after layer of mental chatter until only silent awareness remains.

No two journeys look the same. A few adventurers in Silicon Valley, inspired by Maharshi’s teachings, mention brief “aha moments” during an intense retreat or even between Zoom calls, when the sense of a separate self momentarily dissolves. Yet such glimpses often need nurturing. Consistent practice—whether through daily bursts of inquiry or immersive week-long retreats—tends to deepen and stabilize those sparks into a steady glow.

The modern mindfulness wave, fueled by meditation apps and podcasts, has people eager to clock progress like steps on a fitness tracker. But realization isn’t quantifiable. It’s said that time itself is a construct of the thinking mind, which Self-Inquiry gradually disarms. Once the mind’s habitual “I” takes a back seat, even the notion of waiting evaporates.

Patience is key. Sometimes it unfolds in sudden flashes during ordinary moments—washing dishes or standing in line—when the usual mental treadmill stops without warning. Other times it arrives as a gentle drift, almost unnoticed until day-to-day life carries an unmistakable undercurrent of spaciousness and peace.

Ultimately, realization through Self-Inquiry refuses to be pinned down by calendars or apps. It’s more like watching a garden grow: some plants shoot up overnight, others take seasons. Keep returning to the source of “I,” without forcing or clinging, and that inner space where everything and nothing happens gradually reveals itself.