Ramana Maharshi paints the mind as a restless chatterbox—constantly swinging between past regrets and future anxieties—while the pure Self is the silent stage on which all this drama unfolds. Thoughts, memories and sensations are actors; the Self is the unmoving theatre itself.

That “I-thought” sitting at the very root of every mental twist and turn is the prime culprit. It spawns all other thoughts: “I did this,” “I want that,” “I’m this person.” By turning the question inward—“Who is this ‘I’?”—one gradually untangles the mind’s knots. Each time the mind offers a name or a memory instead of a direct answer, it slips away, revealing a gap of silence. In that stillness, pure awareness—untouched by drama—shines through.

A favorite Ramana analogy likens the mind to a clay pot and the Self to the clay itself. Knock over the pot and the clay remains, whole and formless. Mind builds identities like the pot builds shape; destroy those identities with self-inquiry and the unchanging ground of being stands exposed.

This distinction echoes in modern meditation research, too. As neural chatter quiets—much like muting app notifications—the brain settles into a baseline state of awareness. In that space, there’s no separation between observer and observed. Just pure knowing.

Even in a world buzzing with breaking headlines, viral TikToks and AI-generated chatter, the essence Ramana points to never shifts. It’s the calm eye at the centre of life’s hurricane. Asking “Who am I?” isn’t about solving a riddle but about peeling back layers of self-imposed labels to let the ever-present Self peek through. No special ceremony required—just steady curiosity, like a child enthralled by a simple magic trick, patiently watching until the real secret shows itself.