Thirty Verses on Consciousness-only
Fitting the entire consciousness into 600 characters
How complex is the full study of Yogacara?
Eight Consciousnesses, Seeds, Three Transformations, Fourfold Division, Three Natures, and Transforming Consciousness into Wisdom...
Listing these terms alone could fill a dictionary.
But did you know?
The ultimate source code of this entire system...
...is only 600 characters long.
Thirty short stanzas,
totaling just over 600 characters.
One man used 600 characters to map out the operational logic of your entire consciousness.
Hello,
everyone.
I am Wang Lijie.
Today, we dive into the core treatise of Yogacara,
the "Thirty Verses on Consciousness-only."
It was written by Bodhisattva Vasubandhu.
If you watched our history series on Vasubandhu,
then you know how remarkable he was.
Known as the "Master of a Thousand Works,"
he wrote over a thousand treatises in his lifetime.
But among those thousand-plus works,
the most influential one...
...are these brief thirty verses.
Why?
Because these thirty stanzas achieved something incredible.
They took the core architecture of all Consciousness-only philosophy,
from the foundational Alaya-vijnana to the ultimate Transformation into Wisdom,
and compressed it all into 600 characters.
You can think of it as the Constitution of Yogacara.
A constitution isn't the entirety of the law,
but it is the root of all law.
Every subsequent Yogacara treatise,
whether by Dharmapala,
Sthiramati,
or Xuanzang's "Treatise on the Establishment of Consciousness-only,"
is ultimately a commentary on these thirty verses.
No matter how many specific laws a nation passes,
they must all ultimately align with the Constitution.
But Vasubandhu made a very intriguing choice.
He wrote only the text of the verses,
adding no commentary whatsoever.
600 characters.
And then he stopped.
Not a single word of explanation.
Why?
Think about it.
It wasn't because he was lazy.
A man who wrote over a thousand treatises
doesn't skip explanations out of laziness.
It was a deliberate design choice.
He laid out the complete architecture,
but left the space for interpretation to those who followed.
It's like a top-tier programmer writing only the source code,
without comments
or documentation.
Why?
Because he knew
that those who truly understand source code don't need comments,
and those who do need comments
might be misled by the commentary itself.
The result?
After Vasubandhu passed,
the ten leading scholars of Indian Buddhism
each wrote their own commentary on these thirty verses.
These became the famous Ten Masters of Yogacara.
Ten people reading the same source code
gave ten different interpretations.
In some places, they were fundamentally opposed.
Master Dharmapala said,
"Every cognitive moment has a four-layered structure"—
the "Fourfold Division" we discussed before.
Master Sthiramati said that's too many;
two layers, or even one, is enough.
Whether "seeds" are innate or acquired
became a heated debate between the schools.
You see,
this proves one thing:
Vasubandhu didn't leave behind a closed answer,
but an open framework.
A truly vibrant theory
is not one that tells you the standard answers;
it provides a coordinate system precise enough
for you to locate your own position.
Alright.
Without further ado,
let's read this source code today.
To unpack all thirty verses would take several episodes.
Today, I'll select the most critical verses for a deep dive.
Let's look at the first verse.
It states the core principle right away.
The original text is twenty characters:
"Derived through metaphors are the self and things;"
"Various manifestations arise."
"They depend on the transformation of consciousness;"
"These transformations are of three kinds."
These twenty characters
form the general outline of Yogacara philosophy,
like the First Article of the Constitution.
What did Vasubandhu say?
He said,
the "self" we usually talk about
and the "dharmas"—
meaning all things in the world—
are all merely conventional designations.
What does "conventional designation" mean?
It means tagging or labeling.
You call a stream of ever-changing causal data "the self."
You call other streams mountains, rivers, the earth, or other people.
But behind these labels,
there is no fixed, unchanging entity waiting to be discovered.
Then he says,
"They depend on the transformation of consciousness."
Those labels you attach,
and those various forms you perceive,
are all manifested by consciousness.
It's not that an objective world exists out there to be seen by you;
it's that your consciousness system renders seeds into the world you perceive as objective.
The final five characters:
"These transformations are of three kinds."
The consciousness that manifests all this
has only three ways of transforming.
These are the Three Levels of Transformation.
Here, I want to address a recurring question from the comments.
Many viewers ask:
"If everything is consciousness,
does the external world actually exist?"
"If I hit the corner of a table, it hurts."
"How can you tell me the table doesn't exist?"
Vasubandhu used a very precise term here:
"Metaphorical designation."
He didn't say the self and things don't exist;
he said they are "metaphorical."
The table you perceive,
and the pain of hitting its corner—
these experiences are certainly happening.
But these experiences are manifestations of consciousness.
It's not that an independent table exists there outside your consciousness.
This is exactly what we discussed regarding predictive coding.
The table you see
is a "controlled hallucination" rendered by your brain.
The hallucination is really happening;
the pain is really being felt.
But the content of the hallucination isn't a copy of an external realm;
it is the output of your consciousness system.
Next, let's look at verses two through four.
With extremely condensed language,
Vasubandhu describes the First Transformation,
which is the Alaya-vijnana (storehouse consciousness).
He says:
"First is the Alaya consciousness."
"Maturation and all seeds;"
"Imperceptible in its appropriation,"
"location, and perception. Always associated with contact,"
"attention, feeling, conception, and volition."
"Its associated feeling is only equanimity;"
"It is unobscured and indeterminate."
"So too are contact and the rest."
The information density in these verses is massive.
Every word is a definition-level precision.
Let me break down a few key points.
First:
"Vipāka (Maturation) and Sarvabījaka (All-seeds)."
"Vipāka" means maturing at different times.
The causes you plant
do not bear fruit immediately.
They only mature when conditions are fully met.
"All-seeds" means the Alaya-vijnana stores all types of potential seeds.
Putting these together,
it means the Alaya-vijnana is a giant seed warehouse,
where seeds mature at different moments according to the law of causality.
Second:
"Unknowable."
These words are particularly important.
Vasubandhu explicitly tells you
that the operation of the Alaya-vijnana is unknowable.
If you use your sixth consciousness to think
or to analyze,
you cannot reach it.
It's like your operating system running in the background;
a foreground application can never see
what the OS itself is doing.
You can only see its output,
which is your experience in this very moment.
This is why meditation practice is so vital.
The sixth consciousness is the thinking engine in the foreground;
it can only see the products of the Alaya-vijnana,
not the Alaya-vijnana itself.
To directly observe the operation at the seed level,
you need an observational capacity deeper than thinking.
That is what Samadhi (meditative concentration) is for.
It's not about thinking of nothing;
it's about letting your observation penetrate the screen of the sixth consciousness
to see what programs are actually running in the background.
Third:
"Associated only with equanimity."
What kind of feeling is the Alaya-vijnana associated with?
Only indifferent feeling (Upeksa).
This means it is neither painful nor pleasurable,
impartial and unbiased.
The Alaya-vijnana itself does not judge.
It doesn't say this seed is good or that seed is bad;
it simply stores and manifests things as they are.
Like a hard drive,
it plays whatever was stored,
regardless of whether the content is a tragedy or a comedy.
Fourth:
"Unobscured and indeterminate."
"Unobscured" means it isn't clouded by afflictions.
"Indeterminate" means it's neither good nor evil.
This characterization is crucial.
The Alaya-vijnana itself is morally neutral.
Seeds that cause pain and seeds that cause happiness
are all stored within it.
But the Alaya-vijnana doesn't take sides;
it is merely a carrier.
Looking at these points together,
Vasubandhu used just a few dozen words
to precisely define the core attributes of the Alaya-vijnana: it stores all seeds,
seeds mature at different times,
its operation is unknowable,
it only associates with neutral feelings,
is unobscured by afflictions,
and is morally neutral.
Not a single word is wasted;
every point rules out a common misunderstanding.
In our previous overview of Yogacara,
we used long analogies to explain the Alaya-vijnana.
But Vasubandhu set the boundaries definitively in a few words.
This is the difference between source code and a user manual.
A user manual explains "why."
Source code only defines "what is."
Next, let's jump to the fifth verse,
to look at the Second Transformation:
The Manas-vijnana.
Vasubandhu says:
"Next is the Second Transformation,
the consciousness called Manas.
It evolves depending on and taking for its object the Alaya-vijnana;
its nature and character is that of cogitation."
'Arising dependent on it, taking it as object.'
These words describe the core operation of the Manas-vijnana.
Listen carefully.
'Arising dependent on it.'
The Manas-vijnana relies on the Alaya-vijnana to function.
'Taking it as object.'
It turns around and grasps the Alaya-vijnana as its object of cognition.
What the Manas-vijnana does is this:
It takes data from the Alaya-vijnana,
and then proclaims: 'This is me.'
It takes things out of the storehouse,
and then labels every single one of them as 'mine.'
'Arising dependent on it, taking it as object.'
'I am born from you,'
'and then I hold onto you and won't let go.'
This loop is the underlying code for ego-attachment.
Vasubandhu then describes the four fundamental afflictions of Manas:
Self-ignorance, self-view, self-pride, and self-love.
Self-ignorance:
Not knowing that this 'self' is just a nominal construct,
and believing there is a real 'I.'
Self-view:
Mistaking the Alaya's functions for a fixed, substantial self.
Self-pride:
Once this 'I' exists,
comparison and arrogance naturally follow.
Self-love:
Once this 'I' exists,
attachment and the need to protect the self naturally arise.
Notice this:
These four afflictions aren't just a list;
they follow a logical order.
First, not knowing the 'I' is an illusion;
then, misidentifying a 'self';
then, feeling pride because of 'me';
and finally, attachment because of 'me.'
These four steps
form the complete causal chain of all human egocentric behavior.
When you argue with someone,
you think you're pursuing the truth;
actually, you're defending your self-view.
You carefully curate your persona on social media;
you think you're expressing yourself;
actually, you're feeding your self-love.
You look down on those you deem inferior;
you think you're being objective;
actually, you're indulging in self-pride.
Once you understand these four concepts,
you'll realize 80% of daily psychological activity
is just working in service of these four afflictions.
The next key point,
skipping ahead to verse twenty,
is the Three Natures.
Vasubandhu says:
'By various conceptualizations,'
'various things are conceptualized.'
'The nature of this imagined reality'
'is to have no existence of its own.'
The first line is a heavy blow.
Your consciousness is discriminating everywhere,
labeling everything,
saying 'this is this' and 'that is that.'
This process of discrimination is called 'Parikalpa' (Imagined).
The things you discriminate and construct
are called the 'Imagined Nature.'
Then Vasubandhu says something crucial:
'It has no existence of its own.'
Those things you've discriminated—
their self-nature is empty.
Behind the label, there is no independent entity that the label points to.
This verse connects directly to the Samdhinirmocana Sutra we discussed.
The Three Natures taught by the Buddha in that sutra
are re-expressed here by Vasubandhu in more concise language.
But Vasubandhu does something exceptionally important:
He immediately proposes the Three Non-Natures.
He says:
'Based on these three natures,'
'the three non-natures are established.'
'Thus Buddha spoke with hidden intent:'
'All phenomena are without self-nature.'
What does this mean?
The flip side of the Three Natures is the Three Non-Natures.
The 'Imagined Nature' corresponds to the 'Non-nature of Appearance.'
Because those appearances you cling to have no independent nature of their own.
The 'Dependent Nature' corresponds to the 'Non-nature of Arising.'
Because phenomena produced by conditions do not arise by themselves;
they must depend on other factors to exist.
The 'Perfected Nature' corresponds to the 'Non-nature of Ultimate Truth.'
Because even in a state of realization as it truly is,
it is not a tangible entity that can be grasped.
Do you see it?
Vasubandhu did something incredibly brilliant here.
He unified Emptiness (Sunyata) and Yogacara (Consciousness-Only).
The Madhyamaka school says all dharmas lack self-nature.
Yogacara speaks of the Three Natures.
It seems contradictory, right?
Vasubandhu says there is no contradiction.
Because the other side of the Three Natures is the Three Non-Natures.
If you use Yogacara terminology,
you call them the Three Natures.
If you use Prajna terminology,
you call them the Three Non-Natures.
They are two sides of the same coin.
Prajna tells you,
"What you see is not real."
Yogacara tells you,
"How those unreal things are manufactured by your consciousness."
One is responsible for deconstruction;
the other explains the mechanism of that deconstruction.
Two paths eventually leading to the same destination.
Finally,
let's look at the conclusion of the Thirty Verses,
which are the last five verses.
These five verses discuss the five stages of practice.
Verse 26 says:
"As long as consciousness has not arisen,
seeking to abide in the nature of Consciousness-Only,
the latent tendencies of the 'two graspings'
cannot yet be suppressed or extinguished."
Do you think understanding Consciousness-Only is enough?
It's not.
As long as you are still using the sixth consciousness to 'understand' it,
or telling yourself, "I want to abide in the nature of Consciousness-Only,"
you haven't arrived.
Because that very thought is itself a form of clinging.
You are using a dualistic mode of subject and object
to pursue a state that transcends duality.
This is a paradox in itself.
Then, Verse 27 is even more direct:
"If you place something before yourself
and call it the nature of Consciousness-Only,
because there is still something 'attained,'
you do not truly abide in Consciousness-Only."
If there is still a 'thing' in your mind called Consciousness-Only,
if you feel, "I have reached the state of Consciousness-Only,"
that exactly demonstrates you haven't reached it.
To 'attain' something means there is still clinging.
Where there is clinging, it is not true Consciousness-Only.
Then comes the ultimate strike,
Verse 28:
"When, regarding the object of perception,
wisdom attains nothing at all,
then one abides in Consciousness-Only,
for the signs of dual grasping are left behind."
When do you truly abide in the nature of Consciousness-Only?
When your wisdom no longer clings to any object of perception—
not even to 'Consciousness-Only' itself.
Only at that moment
can you be said to truly abide in it.
Why?
Because the appearances of both subject and object have been completely abandoned.
Do you feel it?
The rhythm of this passage is identical to the Diamond Sutra.
The Diamond Sutra says:
"What the Buddha calls Prajna Paramita,
is not Prajna Paramita,
therefore it is called Prajna Paramita."
The Thirty Verses says:
"If you say you abide in the nature of Consciousness-Only,
then you do not truly abide in it."
When do you truly abide?
When you even let go of the concept of 'abiding.'
It's the same logic.
Prajna uses the path of negation,
while Yogacara uses affirmation followed by negation.
Two grammars,
pointing to the same destination.
The end of every teaching
is to let go of the teaching itself.
What did Vasubandhu accomplish with the Thirty Verses?
In the first twenty-plus verses, he built an extremely precise
operational model of consciousness.
How the Eight Consciousnesses divide labor,
how the seeds circulate,
how the Three Transformations collaborate,
how the Three Natures are nested.
Then, in the final five verses,
he dismantled this model with his own hands.
He tells you:
This model isn't for you to cling to;
it is meant to be discarded once used.
This is what the Diamond Sutra means by 'Even the Dharma should be relinquished,'
'how much more what is not Dharma?'
The Thirty Verses is the practice of those words.
It constructs, then deconstructs.
First, it shows you the precise structure of consciousness,
then it shows you
that the 'seeing' itself cannot become a new attachment.
Six hundred characters,
from Alaya-vijnana to the transformation into wisdom,
from seeds to awakening,
from the most precise construction to the most thorough deconstruction.
You could spend a lifetime studying every word of every verse,
or you could grasp it all in a single second.
Everything you experience is a manifestation of consciousness.
And the manifestation of consciousness itself
is not something that can be grasped.
If you ask me what the Thirty Verses is really about,
my answer is:
It’s about something you are experiencing right this moment.
You are hearing my voice.
Some form of understanding is taking shape in your mind.
Perhaps you are judging whether I'm speaking well or not.
This entire experience,
from start to finish,
is a manifestation of your consciousness.
You think you are listening to a lecture by Wang Lijie,
but you are actually watching a real-time performance staged by your own awareness.
But this 'me' who is speaking,
and the 'you' who is listening,
and this so-called 'understanding' happening between us—
all of it is a conventional hypothesis.
It's not that it's not happening;
it's that it lacks a fixed inherent nature.
It is arising,
and simultaneously, it is dissipating.
After writing these thirty verses, Vasubandhu set down his pen.
No explanation,
no footnotes,
no appendix.
He just stopped.
This stopping itself
is the thirty-first verse.
Do you think this is just 1,500-year-old ancient knowledge?
Try this:
Tonight,
at the moment you're about to lose your temper,
or the moment you scroll past a piece of news that makes you anxious,
pause for a second.
Ask yourself: 'Where did this reaction
come from?'
You will find
that the words Vasubandhu wrote 1,500 years ago
are running within you right now.
I am Wang Lijie.
See you next time.