Realization under Ramana Maharshi’s Self-Inquiry isn’t a fleeting high but the ground beneath every high and low. Temporary bliss feels like catching the perfect wave at a surf contest: exhilarating, heart-racing, but ultimately washed away by the next swell. In contrast, realization reveals that the ocean itself never changes—only the waves do.

Bliss states often show up during meditation retreats, ecstatic kirtans or even while scrolling through a mood-boosting playlist on TikTok. Neurochemically speaking, dopamine and endorphins surge, lighting up pleasure centers—but as neuroscience journals keep pointing out, those circuits eventually settle back into their habitual groove. By contrast, Self-Inquiry (“Who am I?”) peels away every layer of thought and emotion, exposing a timeless awareness that neither peaks nor crashes.

When the bubble of euphoria bursts, the mind usually scrambles to chase another high. Realization, however, is like discarding the chase altogether. It’s akin to switching off a movie projector and seeing the empty screen—no characters left to entertain, just pure seeing. That silent screen never flickers; it’s the ever-present backdrop behind every experience.

Despite the surge of trendy “mindfulness” apps promising quick Zen fixes, there’s no download button for true Self-knowledge. It emerges only when attention turns inward, resting as the “I”-thought itself. Once that thought dissolves, bliss isn’t a brief guest but the guest-host that’s always home—steady, unshakable, and utterly ordinary.