Treat “Who am I?” as a gentle spotlight rather than a riddle to solve. Every time the mind drifts into stories—plans for tomorrow or memories of yesterday—bring that light right back to its source. Notice the gap between thoughts; that silent space is pure awareness peeking through.

Short, frequent check-ins help more than marathon sitting. In a quiet moment—waiting for coffee to brew or during a traffic light—ask “Who is noticing this?” without chasing an answer. Over time, this question becomes less of a mental puzzle and more like habitually returning home.

Physical sensations offer handy anchors. Rest attention on the rise and fall of the chest, or on the subtle warmth at the center of the head. Whenever the inner chatter ramps up (this tends to happen most during stressful Zoom calls or inbox overwhelm), shift back to sensing rather than thinking. That simple pivot chips away at the ego’s grip.

Reading or listening to talks by Ramana Maharshi can spark fresh insights. Yet beware of collecting quotes like library books—better to let the words sit inside, stirring your own knowing. Joining a local satsang or an online community—there’s a lively one on Insight Timer—provides encouragement when the going gets tough.

Modern neuroscience even backs it up: studies on the brain’s default mode network show that self-referential thinking quiets down with steady inquiry. That’s like finding a secret room behind a bookshelf: the more attention poured in, the clearer the way becomes.

Patience is key. Early on, frustration might feel like splashing waves, but the ocean beneath remains calm. Over time, the question “Who am I?” fades into its own silence, revealing something that’s always been here—no steps needed to reach it, only a steady willingness to look.

With practice woven into daily life—during chores, conversations, morning stretches—the inquiry grows roots. Soon enough, the habit of turning inward becomes as natural as breathing.