You know, I’ve been messing around with the I Ching for a long time. Like, years. Not just glancing at it, but really trying to understand the shifts and the lines. I was dedicated, but man, was I lazy about the actual casting process.
The Hassle of Being Serious
I hated the whole coin-tossing ritual when I was in a hurry. Finding the right spot, making sure the damn things didn’t roll off the table, writing down the score, checking for the moving lines… It just felt like a chore sometimes, especially when I needed a quick check-in before a big phone call or when I was just winding down for the night.
I needed speed. I needed clean results without the physical mess. That’s how I stumbled onto the digital side of things. I tried a few of the pay apps, and honestly, they were okay, but I’m a cheapskate when it comes to tools I think I can find for free.
Then I found this one: the “Chris Free I Ching.” The name itself sounds super simple, right? Like some dude named Chris just threw it up there. Free is free, so I figured, why not try it out for my serious divination practice.
Diving into the Digital Draw
I started using it for daily readings. Simple stuff like, “How should I approach this workload today?” or “What’s the energy around this specific conversation?”
- It was fast.
- It was clean.
- It kept a log automatically, which was actually a huge plus because my paper journals are a disaster.
You hit the button, the six lines pop up, and boom, you have your hexagram and the changing one. It was so easy that I started using the Ching way more often than before. That, I thought, was a good thing. More wisdom flowing into my daily life.
But the problem started when I moved from daily surface-level stuff to the really heavy questions. The ones that keep you up at 3 AM. The ones where you feel like you are standing at a major fork in the road and you absolutely cannot afford to screw up the decision.
When the stakes got high, the feeling went low.
The Doubt Crept In
The whole experience on the Chris Free site was just too automated. It gave me the result, but it totally skipped the process. Look, part of the serious divination practice is that time you spend shaking the coins or sorting the stalks. It’s the ritual, the space you clear in your head, the focus you put into the question during those quiet moments before the answer appears.
On that free app, I’d type my heavy question, hit the button, and the answer was just there. It felt like ordering fast food instead of cooking a proper meal. It was nourishing, sure, but it was missing all the soul and preparation.
I started to worry about the random number generator they were using. I mean, it’s a free app, right? How much effort went into making sure that the randomness was truly connected to the Tao, or whatever you want to call it? Or was it just some quick line of code spitting out numbers based on the system clock?
My Honest Stress Test
I decided to put it to a real, painful test. I wanted to know if the digital result lined up with the physical one when I was really focused.
I chose a serious question—one about a major work contract. I cleared my head, got focused, and logged into the Chris Free I Ching.
I typed the question, hit the button, and wrote down the result: Hexagram X changing to Hexagram Y.
Then, immediately after, I pulled out my coins. I kept the exact same question burning in my mind. I performed the ritual slowly, carefully, focusing on every toss and tally mark. I took the time. I let the intention soak into the physical process.
Here is what I found, and it’s the reason I stopped using it for anything serious:
- The numbers often matched. Not always, but often enough to make me think the RNG wasn’t totally busted.
- But the experience never did. Never.
That physical process of tossing the coins, the sound, the feel, the slow counting—it forces you to meditate on the question for five solid minutes. It builds up the moment. By the time the final line is drawn, your mind is already primed to receive the answer. The answer isn’t just a number; it’s a culmination of your effort and focus.
The free app just cuts out the most important part of the journey. It’s a shortcut that makes the whole thing feel thin, cheap, and disconnected. When I got the physical result, I felt it in my gut, even if it was the same as the app. The app’s result was just data.
The Final Verdict for Serious Users
So, is Chris Free I Ching worth your time for serious divination practice? Absolutely not.
Look, if you need to know, “Should I wear my blue shirt or my green shirt?” or “What’s the overall vibe of the afternoon?” it’s fine. It’s fast, and it’s free. A perfectly serviceable digital paperweight.
But when you’re talking about life-changing decisions, career moves, or deep relationship questions, you need the full immersion. You need the process. The free digital tools strip away the necessary friction and ritual that connect you to the wisdom. You need the time delay, the physical effort, the space the coins give you to think between the lines.
I went back to the coins and the bamboo stalks after that test. It’s slower, it’s messier, and sometimes I lose count, but when the answer comes up, I know I actually earned it and prepared my mind for it. That digital result is just a suggestion. The physical, focused result is a command.
Save Chris’s free tool for when you’re stuck on the bus and bored, but keep your serious practice locked down with the old ways. Trust me on this one.
