Man, sometimes life just throws you curveballs, right? You stand there, looking at options, and your brain just freezes. That used to be me, all the time. I’d ponder and fret over the smallest things, let alone the big ones. I needed something to just… shake things up, give me a nudge, a different angle to look at stuff.
I remembered my old man, he had this dusty book, the I Ching. Never really paid it much mind then, figured it was all mystical mumbo-jumbo. But one particularly stormy evening, metaphorically speaking, when I was completely stuck on a career decision, I pulled it out. Just sat there, flipping pages, feeling a bit silly, to be honest. But something caught my eye, a way it framed choices, not as right or wrong, but as different paths with different energies.
I started small, just trying to get a hexagram, what they call it. I didn’t have the fancy coins or sticks, so I just used three regular old pennies. Each toss, I’d note down heads or tails. Six tosses, and boom, a hexagram. Then I’d grab the book and look up the corresponding text. My first few tries, I just scratched my head. What in the world was this gibberish telling me? It wasn’t a direct answer, you know? It was more like a riddle.
But I’m a persistent guy, or maybe just stubborn. I decided I wasn’t going to just give up. I wanted to see if there was actually anything to it. So, I committed myself. I told myself, every morning, before I even checked my phone, I’d cast for an “insight” for the day. Not as a prediction, but as a theme, a lens to view whatever came my way. I even started a little notebook, just for these daily notes. Called it my “Daily Insights Log.”
The process itself became a bit of a ritual. I’d sit down, clear my head for a minute, think about the day ahead, or if there was a particular issue bugging me, I’d hold that in my mind. Then, the coin tosses. Three coins, six times. I’d carefully draw out the lines in my notebook. Then, the slow turn to the pages of the I Ching. I didn’t rush it. I’d read the main judgment, then the image, and then the moving lines, if any. The trick, I quickly found, wasn’t to look for an answer, but to look for a perspective.
For example, one day I got “Opposition.” My first thought was, “Great, everyone’s gonna be against me today!” But as I read the commentary, it wasn’t about conflict in a bad way. It was about seeing things from a totally different angle, maybe even embracing a contrasting viewpoint to find a solution. That day, I had a meeting where I knew there’d be disagreements. Instead of going in ready for a fight, I consciously tried to listen, to understand the other side’s “opposition.” And wouldn’t you know it, by actually stepping back and observing, we found a middle ground much faster than usual. It was wild.
Another time, I got “The Wanderer.” I was feeling super stressed about settling down, making big commitments. But the text talked about being unattached, moving freely, finding peace in the journey, not the destination. It wasn’t saying “don’t commit!” but rather, “don’t tie yourself down with expectations.” That insight totally shifted my focus from panic to enjoying where I was at that moment. It was like someone giving me permission to just breathe.
I kept this up, day in and day out. Some days the insights made perfect sense instantly. Other days, I’d read it and be like, “Huh?” But I’d always jot down my initial thoughts, then revisit it at the end of the day. A lot of times, by evening, something would happen that perfectly illustrated what the “insight” was nudging me towards. It wasn’t magic, it was just… putting a different pair of glasses on for the day.
My Routine for Real-Life Decisions
Here’s how I really started pulling these insights into my decision-making:
- First thing in the morning: Cast the coins, get the hexagram, read the general vibe.
- Journal it: Write down the hexagram, its name, and my initial interpretation. What does it make me think about? What potential challenges or opportunities does it highlight for the day?
- Hold it lightly: I don’t treat it as a command. It’s more like a subtle suggestion, a theme.
- Apply to choices: When a decision popped up, big or small, I’d refer back to the day’s insight. If it was “The Cauldron,” maybe it meant nurturing something or bringing different elements together. If it was “Waiting,” then maybe the best decision was no decision, but to observe.
- Reflect in the evening: Before bed, I’d re-read the insight and my morning notes. How did it play out? Did it help me navigate a situation better? What did I learn?
This whole practice, keeping up with these daily insights, it’s not about predicting the future. It’s about building a muscle for looking at problems from new angles. It’s about slowing down. It’s about reflection. It’s made me less reactive and more thoughtful. I wouldn’t say I’m some master decision-maker now, but I definitely feel more grounded, more confident in how I approach choices. It’s just a tool, you know, but a pretty powerful one if you stick with it.
Now, I don’t just pull the old book out when I’m stuck. It’s part of my everyday. It’s my quiet moment before the noise of the day starts. And honestly, it’s just made things a lot clearer.
