"The Power of Now" talks about living in the moment,
but why is the ego so hard to dissolve?
This book has sold over 16 million copies worldwide.
Its core message is just four words:
Live in the now.
You might have read it,
or it might have sat on your shelf for years,
waiting for the right mood to flip it open.
First, let me ask you a question.
Are you,
right now, living in the moment?
If you're driving,
is your mind thinking about what you're doing next?
If you're playing with your kids,
are you worrying about an unread email?
If you're listening to me now,
has a part of your attention
already drifted away?
Most people
are not in the present.
And odds are,
even after reading this book,
you still won't be.
This isn't your fault,
nor is it Tolle's.
It's a deeper issue,
one that requires a more complete framework to see clearly.
Hello,
everyone,
I'm Wang Lijie.
Today we're breaking down a global bestseller,
Eckhart Tolle's "The Power of Now."
I'm going to do something Tolle himself hasn't done:
translate his findings using the framework of Yogacara Buddhism,
and then show you
how far his map goes,
and what lies beyond
the edge of that map.
First, let's talk about the man.
Tolle is German,
born in 1948 in a small town in the Ruhr region.
He studied Languages and History at the University of London,
and then became a researcher and supervisor at Cambridge University.
At twenty-nine,
he fell into extreme depression.
He described that period as
waking up every morning
feeling that living itself was a form of torture.
Then, late one night,
when the pain reached its peak,
a thought suddenly popped into his head:
"I cannot live with myself any longer."
Then he paused.
Wait,
this sentence is a bit strange.
"I" and "myself"—
are there two of me?
If the one I can't stand is myself,
then who is can't standing whom?
It was this very question
that triggered a profound inner change.
He later described that,
at that moment,
everything changed.
The voice in his head suddenly went quiet.
He fell into a stillness he had never experienced before.
The next morning when he woke up,
he went to the window
and saw a tree outside.
He said that tree was more beautiful than anything he'd ever seen,
more real.
He just stood there,
thinking of nothing,
simply observing.
For the next nearly two years,
he lived on friends' sofas
and often sat on park benches in London's Russell Square,
doing nothing,
just being.
His neighbors thought he'd gone mad.
But he said he had never been more lucid.
Later, he took this experience,
along with his understanding of consciousness,
and wrote the book "The Power of Now."
Alright.
Let's look at the core premise of this book.
Tolle says
that human suffering
comes from something called the Ego.
What is the Ego?
It's that voice in your head that never stops talking.
Have you ever noticed
that your mind is almost never quiet?
The moment one thing ends,
another begins immediately.
You're thinking about work while eating;
worrying about the future while working;
reviewing the day's conversations before bed;
thinking about something you said wrong two years ago at 3:00 AM.
This voice
is the Ego.
We previously discussed a Stanford brain-computer interface experiment.
Every word you say in your mind
causes the motor cortex to fire in sync.
This voice isn't a metaphor;
it's a real, measurable stream of neural activity.
It isn't you.
It's an automated program operating within your consciousness.
But because its voice sounds so much like yours,
you think it is you.
Tolle also proposed a concept
called the "Pain-Body."
He says
every emotional trauma you've experienced in the past,
every bit of pain that wasn't fully processed,
never disappeared.
They remain as energetic residue,
stored in your body,
forming a dormant emotional entity.
This entity is activated periodically.
Once activated,
it takes over your thoughts and behavior,
making you relive past pain with doubled intensity.
I believe many have experienced this.
You think you've moved on from a relationship,
then one day,
you hear a song on the subway,
your chest suddenly tightens,
and you completely break down.
That wasn't your choice;
that was the Pain-Body being triggered.
What is Tolle's prescription?
Simple: observation.
He says
when you can observe your thoughts
instead of being carried away by them,
you are no longer that thought.
You become the observer.
When you notice the Pain-Body start to operate,
you only need to stay present,
remain aware,
and not identify with it.
Then it loses its power.
Alright.
At this point,
I want to say something many readers of this book might not expect.
This entire system Tolle describes
was systematized by Yogacara over a thousand years ago.
It's not just a faint resemblance;
there are complete technical specifications.
Let's do a translation.
Tolle's "Ego"
corresponds to Yogacara's seventh consciousness:
Manas-vijnana.
We've mentioned this name many times in this series.
What does Manas-vijnana do?
It has a function
called "constant deliberation and grasping."
"Constant" means it never stops.
"Deliberation" means scrutinizing.
'Contemplation' means judging and measuring.
It works 24 hours a day to do one thing:
Labeling activities deep in our consciousness.
"This is mine."
"This is about me."
"What does this mean for me?"
Say you're eating with a friend.
Their phone rings.
They glance down at it.
Manas-vijnana activates: "Are they uninterested in me?"
"Do they find our conversation boring?"
"They weren't like this before."
"Have they been distancing themselves lately?"
It could just be a delivery notification,
but within a second, Manas-vijnana
has turned it into a story about you.
This voice
is what Tolle calls the 'Ego.'
What Tolle calls the 'Pain-Body'
corresponds to 'Seeds manifesting' in Yogacara.
Alaya-vijnana,
the eighth consciousness,
is the seed warehouse of your deep consciousness.
Imprints from all your past experiences
exist there in the form of seeds.
These seeds usually remain dormant,
but when they encounter the right external conditions,
they 'manifest.'
They erupt from a state of potentiality
into your current experience and reactions.
When Tolle says the Pain-Body is activated,
he's describing this mechanism:
seeds manifesting upon meeting conditions.
That song that moves you
is an external condition.
The wound you thought had scarred over
is actually just a seed not yet fully transformed;
it's waiting for the next trigger.
And what Tolle calls 'Presence'—
the observer watching the ego—
is, in Yogacara terms,
similar to 'Svasamvitti' (Self-Awareness).
In the 'Four Aspects' theory,
Svasamvitti is the function that perceives its own cognition.
You aren't just looking at the tree;
you know that you are looking at it.
You aren't just hijacked by anger;
you can sense yourself being hijacked.
This meta-level awareness
is what Tolle calls 'Presence.'
You see,
a German man
sits on a park bench for two years
and describes something in his own language
that matches the framework built by ancient Indian practitioners,
different versions of the same system.
This in itself is fascinating.
It shows that certain truths about consciousness
are not cultural inventions;
they can be discovered independently.
But now we come to the most interesting part.
Where does Tolle stop?
He saw the Manas-vijnana,
the manifestation of the seeds,
and even the existence of Svasamvitti.
But his prescription for all of this
is just one word: 'Observe.'
Here lies the problem.
If observation alone could solve it,
why do so many people read 'The Power of Now'
and observe for years,
yet the ego still returns every morning?
This isn't mocking Tolle.
It's a very serious question.
The answer lies in Alaya-vijnana.
Tolle found the Manas-vijnana,
but he didn't address why it is so powerful
and so difficult to shake.
The answer from Yogacara is
the source of Manas-vijnana's power.
is the seeds within the Alaya-vijnana.
You can see the Manas-vijnana in operation,
but the seeds reside at a deeper level,
taking effect before you ever notice the Manas.
It's like seeing a whirlpool on the river surface,
but its power comes from the undercurrent at the bottom.
You stare at the whirlpool,
but it won't disappear,
because what drives it lies where you cannot see.
This explains a common confusion among practitioners:
"I'm already very mindful;
I know when anger arises;
I can observe it,
yet it's still so powerful,
still affects my behavior,
and still pops up when I'm not paying attention."
Yogacara's answer: Observation is indeed useful,
but it acts on the level of the Manas-vijnana.
What you truly need to address
is the seed structure at the Alaya level.
Only observing the Manas
is like using a rag to wipe a leak every time you find it,
without ever fixing the leaking pipe.
The Manas is just the outlet,
the seed-store house is the source.
So, how is the seed structure transformed?
Yogacara provides a complete method
called "perfuming."
Like placing white cloth next to flowers,
the fragrance gradually seeps into the fabric.
Every time you keep a precept,
every time you chant the Buddha's name,
every time you meditate,
every time you think deeply—
you are essentially planting new seeds into the Alaya-vijnana,
while allowing old, negative seeds to lose vitality from lack of nourishment.
This is a process that requires time;
it's a continuous, iterative process,
not something achieved through a single epiphany or observation.
Of course,
sudden enlightenment does exist.
But the conditions for its occurrence
usually require a vast accumulation at the Alaya level.
The seeds are already ripe,
waiting only for a final external catalyst.
Tolle's two years on the park bench
were likely a deep, natural purification process,
though he lacked this specific vocabulary to describe it.
Now,
I'm going to tell you something a bit ironic.
After *The Power of Now* was published,
it spawned an entire industry.
You can attend Tolle's live seminars,
buy his meditation audios,
buy his calendars,
and buy mugs printed with his quotes.
Millions of people worldwide
now define themselves as followers of *The Power of Now*.
They share states of "presence" on social media,
discuss the traps of the ego,
and point out when someone is still identifying with it.
Do you see the problem?
When someone defines themselves as "living in the now"
and actively maintains and promotes this identity,
this very behavior
is exactly the Manas-vijnana operating under a new guise.
"I want to be a spiritual person;"
"I want others to see me living in the now;"
"I am different from those ordinary people still living in ego."
This isn't practice;
this is spiritual consumerism.
The Manas hasn't disappeared;
it has simply found a more high-end brand.
In my years of investing,
I've seen too many similar phenomena.
Many people read numerous business books,
attend countless bootcamps,
and upgrade their self-narrative from "ordinary person"
to "someone with first-principles thinking"
or "someone with systematic cognition."
But if you look closely,
you will find these new labels
are structurally no different from the old ones.
Manas is still Manas;
it has simply changed into more decent clothes.
There is a common phenomenon in the startup world:
founders talk about 'user first' on stage,
while behind the scenes, every decision revolves around 'I cannot lose'
and 'my judgment cannot be denied.'
This is Manas speaking while wearing the cloak of values.
Yogacara has an extremely precise description of this trap:
Parikalpita-svabhāva, or the 'imagined nature.'
You take things that arise dependently and slap fixed labels on them,
and then you become attached to those labels.
Before, you were attached to 'I am a successful person.'
Now, you are attached to 'I am a person living in the now.'
The labels have changed,
but the mechanism of attachment remains the same.
The deeper irony lies here:
Tolle himself actually realized this problem.
He says in the book,
if you treat this book as knowledge to be acquired,
you've missed the point.
It is not a system of thought;
it is merely a finger pointing at the moon.
Yet, how many people
are studying the artistic shape of that finger
instead of looking at the moon?
There's a saying in Buddhism
that is even more direct: 'Even the Dharma must be abandoned,'
'let alone the non-Dharma.'
A raft is for crossing the river;
once across, you must let it go.
'The Power of Now' is also a raft,
but many people have put the raft on an altar.
Alright.
We now come to the deepest question of this episode.
Regarding Tolle's presence—
that observer who watches the ego—
who exactly is it?
We discussed this before using Taoist language:
the one speaking is the 'Cognitive Spirit,'
and the one listening is the 'Original Spirit.'
But Yogacara is not satisfied with just giving the observer a name.
It asks a sharper question.
Tolle says
it is your true Being,
your original self,
the pure awareness beyond thought and ego.
But Buddhism asks: is this observer
an independent, stable entity?
Or rather,
is it also a function of the consciousness system?
Yogacara speaks of
'Svasamvitti' (self-awareness).
That function of being aware that one is cognizing
is itself a part of consciousness.
It is not a God's-eye view standing outside the system;
it is a self-monitoring mechanism within the system.
This distinction is crucial.
If the observer is a real, transcendent existence outside the system,
then liberation can be achieved simply through observation.
But if the observer is also part of the system,
then the problem becomes much more complex.
This explains why many people meditate for years,
and develop strong awareness,
yet their afflictions still return.
It's not that their awareness is insufficient,
but that the observer itself still carries 'seeds.'
You can observe anger rising,
but your observation of that anger
might itself carry a subtle aversion to it.
And this aversion
is another seed.
You think you are observing,
but in fact, you are using one seed
to try and suppress another.
Buddhism's approach to this problem
ultimately leads to 'non-self.'
It's not that a pure observer is watching the ego.
But when the function of awareness matures enough,
even the label of the observer falls away.
There is no one observing;
there is only awareness itself.
No subject,
no object,
only clarity.
Yogacara calls this state the Mirror-like Wisdom,
the transformed state of the eighth consciousness.
Like a dust-free mirror,
it reflects everything as it is,
without distortion,
without addition,
and without attachment.
During Tolle's two years in the park,
he likely touched the edges of this state.
He calls it presence.
But he doesn't provide the complete path to get there.
He simply says,
"Let go of the ego,
and stay aware."
This isn't wrong,
but it's incomplete.
It's like someone telling you
to get from Shanghai to Xinjiang,
you just need to head west.
The direction is correct,
but you still need a complete map
to actually arrive.
The Power of Now gives you the direction;
Yogacara gives you the map.
This isn't to say Tolle isn't good enough.
On the contrary,
I think he did something truly remarkable.
Using language modern Westerners can accept,
he brought a core insight buried for millennia in Asian traditions
into the mainstream.
He helped over 16 million people realize for the first time
that the voice in their head is not them.
That is a significant contribution.
But a contribution is not the same as completeness.
So, one last question
for you to consider:
If even the thought "I want to live in the now"
is itself an operation of the ego;
if even the impulse to seek enlightenment
is just the Manas consciousness saying "I want to be a better me;"
then,
is there a practice
that doesn't require a self-improving "I" to initiate it?
Buddhism has one,
but that is the starting point of another map.
This question
is more worth a lifetime of exploration than the entire book.
Have you read this book?
Have you ever found Tolle's methods failing you?
What happened in that moment?
I'd love to hear your thoughts.
I am Wang Lijie.
I'll see you next time.