I first came across the I-Ching sometime between 2012-2015 while working at an auction house. It was a strange and quirky place selling antique and modern furniture, art, knick-knacks, jewellery, and used designer handbags. All kinds of second-hand stuff came through those warehouse doors. One day, a colleague of mine in his early 70s who I shared a passion for the metaphysical with, came into my office with an object he knew I might like. He held a small metal container holding 64 sticks each numbered at the bottom in black scrawl with red painted tips at the top. ‘What’s this?’ I asked. They looked like long matchsticks. He then told me about the I-Ching or the Book of Changes, an ancient Chinese divination tool. The Taoist Master, Alfred Huang says in his book The Complete I-Ching that the great work is a “text based on the observation and experimentation of the sages. The ancient sages watched astronomical phenomena in the sky and topographical features on the earth and studied the relationships among all beings. They realized that in Heaven and Earth there exists a universal principle that everything is in a continuous process of change. Change is absolute and certain; only the principle of change never changes. Through their experiences, the sages sensed that it was crucial for one to understand the laws of change; only then could one respond and adapt to changes in the most suitable way.”
There really is no question that the I-Ching can’t answer, but it does so in a way that gets you to really examine your deepest motivations. That day, I asked the collection of sticks a question and shook the container up and down until a number jumped out to reveal my oracle, whose message I read in a little book. I can’t remember what I asked that first time around, but I was hooked and took those sticks home with me. I found the sticks themselves a bit unwieldy (they were supposed to be reminiscent of the yarrow stalks that were used some 3000 years ago); I couldn’t connect with the energy of them, after all, I had no idea where they’d come from or who had possessed them. I also found the messages inside the booklet somewhat basic, not as in-depth as what could be found online or in a more extensive book. Eventually, I discovered I could consult the I-Ching by throwing down three coins to cast one of the 64 hexagrams the oracle contains. In short, a hexagram is composed of six horizontal yin or yang lines all stacked on top of each other to create a single hexagram with an overall message. (The system of creating a hexagram is a little complicated, but if you’re curious to try this out yourself, I’ve included a link below.) Even though you can find online hexagram generators, I much prefer the slow magic and intention of working with the coins, that way I can meditate on my question while shuffling. Ever since this revelation, I’ve been asking the I-Ching for guidance over the many years. It’s a divination tool that never fails to set me at ease. There’s a whole cosmos of meaning in each of the hexagrams, and within the individualised lines. (All of this alongside a rich variety of translations and interpretations by Western scholars although I recently picked up a more faithful translation by the Chinese scholar, Alfred Huang.) The I-Ching never minces its words, so if you’re consulting the oracle too much or asking silly questions, it’ll let it be known, which is my kind of oracle. Even though I love tarot and oracle decks, I find these tools serve a different purpose in my life. When I want to contemplate a more confounding matter, I turn to the I-Ching because of its directness, profundity and poetry. Or when I need an extra dose of written encouragement or a reminder of a fundamental truth to keep me on my path, once again, I turn to the I-Ching.
Last week during a walk through the park, a friend of mine thanked me for introducing her to the oracle, as it helped her clarify a decision around the impulse to travel to an unknown country. We were geeking out about our love of the ancient text, when she made a good point about how different it is to tarot, where it’s easy to project our desires onto the images as opposed to being objective about our questions or circumstances. Earlier that week, after setting an intention to be positive because I couldn’t afford to waste another day being angsty, I turned to the I-Ching instead of my cards because I wanted to get to the bottom of the inertia I’d been feeling. I wanted to move through my feelings with the balm and directness of the oracle’s wisdom. “Dearest I-Ching …” I wrote in my journal. (It’s how I’ve begun my questions for years.) “What is the best piece of advice for me at this time?” I kept the question as broad as that and ended (as I always do) with “thank you” to express my gratitude. After throwing my coins six times and drawing out the lines, I received Hexagram 47: ‘Obstruction’ or ‘Exhaustion’. For a split second, I felt a bit of apprehension. As someone who loves using divination tools to make sense of my internal landscape, I always feel a bit annoyed when I receive what I perceive to be an undesirable message. It’s like when people pull the Death card from the Rider Waite tarot deck thinking it’s a bad omen when it typically connotes a major ending in one’s life. What I love about divination tools is that they help us address our shadows or the less than palatable feelings and emotions we’re experiencing. They’re essentially a mirror to how we’re feeling in the moment. They force us to look at our difficult feelings head on instead of pussyfooting around. Instead of repression or toxic positivity, we’re asked to work with our emotions in a supportive and interactive way.
The Chinese ideogram that accompanies Hexagram 47 is of a tree trapped on all sides unable to grow. For a few years now, I’ve been in an in-between phase of my life, where one way of being and seeing the world has ended, but a new way of life or series of chapters has yet to materialise. It’s an uncomfortable place to be in but the possibilities feel exciting. All areas of my life are up for review, but in particular, I’m wanting to redefine my career. I’ve never in my life set out with a plan, instead I’ve simply let myself be swept away by opportunities that came my way. These days I’m trying to be more intentional about what I’m creating, and with that comes a process of blind faith and building. When we’re trying to pivot and create something new, some days will feel like we’re sat in the dark, and those days will have us wondering what’s it all for, and to be honest, it’s this feeling that sometimes brings me down. When I pulled Hexagram 47, even though I was at first dubious, I knew it rang true, because the journey of cobbling together a meaningful career (or of even knowing what I wanted in this life) has been long and tiring even despite some of the wins. The advice I took away from the oracle was that a disciplined person refuses to abandon their dreams just because they’ve run into difficulty. It would be in my best interest to keep it moving and to do it with enthusiasm, hope, and even joy despite challenges or mental obstructions. A strong person maintains their equilibrium and carries out their purpose even in the face of setbacks no matter how minor or major. To build something meaningful for oneself requires a blind dedication no matter the circumstances. This kind of advice also reminds me of the discipline of meditation, something I’ve managed to incorporate into my day to day. Alfred Huang adds that, “In an exhausting situation, one must still seek prosperity and smoothness and remain steadfast and upright. Only the great person possesses these traits, which will bring about good fortune. In the spirit of the I-Ching, an extremely exhausting situation bears the seeds of great regeneration. The sage accepts every situation with faith and ease. Not many people understand and believe this truth.” The principle of remaining steadfast and enthusiastic even in the face of challenges is a practice, but one I’m willing to try on repeatedly.
Writing prompt:
I’d suggest doing this prompt when you have about 30 minutes to an hour to spare. Perhaps just before bed as you’re winding down for the evening.
1) What one question would you ask the I-Ching at this moment in time? (Avoid yes or no questions.) What kind of guidance do you seek right now?
If you’re interested in trying out the I-Ching for yourself, here’s a useful link:
https://www.onlineclarity.co.uk/learn/beginners/casting-a-hexagram-with-3-coins/
To read the meaning of your hexagram, I like the differing explanations from these sites but it’s always best to pick and choose what resonates for you as there’s a lot to examine and pick through:
https://www.cafeausoul.com/oracles/iching/kun-oppression-exhaustion/
https://www.jamesdekorne.com/GBCh/hex47.htm
I hope you enjoyed this post and pulled something meaningful from it. If so, let me know what you thought and what resonated. If you attempted to cast a hexagram, let me know what happened! And feel free to share with those who might benefit from it!
This is really interesting Jennifer, thank you for sharing. I'd never heard of I-Ching and would love to try it out. Although I think for me personally bed time would be the worst of times to try it because of the whirlwind of questions that will pop into my head after the reading hahah...