A persistent inner restlessness often shows up first. Even after settling into silence, the mind scurries off—chasing memories, worries or the latest viral trend. Ramana Maharshi compared this to clouds obscuring the sun: the Self is always shining, but mental “weather” keeps getting in the way.

Doubt is another frequent companion. Questions like “Am I doing this right?” or “What if there’s nothing to find?” can derail the most sincere effort. Maharshi observed that such skepticism springs from the ego’s last-ditch defense: clinging to uncertainty feels safer than surrendering to the unknown.

A sense of unworthiness also creeps in. In a world fixated on achievement and likes, many feel inadequate when they can’t tick off goals on a meditation app. Maharshi pointed out that the seeker often thinks, “I’m not spiritual enough,” forgetting that self-inquiry isn’t about merit—it’s about peeling away false identities.

Physical discomfort and mental dullness often join forces to stall practice. Modern life—with its back-to-back Zoom calls and sleepless scrolling—amplifies bodily tension and fatigue. When posture aches or focus fades, it’s tempting to abandon the inquiry and reach for something more instantly gratifying.

Then there’s the mirage of premature awakening. Occasionally, a deep silence or blissful experience feels like the goal itself. Maharshi warned that mistaking these moments for final liberation only reinforces the subtle ego that still says, “Look what I’ve achieved.” True self-realization is not a peak experience but an abiding absence of separation.

Ultimately, every distraction, every pang of doubt, and every self-judgment is part of the process. Like learning to ride a bike, wobbling—and even crashing—is how balance is discovered. Persistence and a gentle return to the one question, “Who am I?” steadily dissolve the obstacles that once seemed insurmountable.