Man, sometimes life just throws you for a loop, right? You’re cruising along, thinking you’ve got a handle on things, and then BAM! You hit a wall. Or maybe it’s not even a wall, just this weird, foggy patch where you can’t quite see the road ahead. That’s kinda where I found myself a while back, feeling all sorts of unmoored and a bit stuck.
I had this project, see. Something I’d been kicking around for ages, something I really believed in, but it just wasn’t clicking. Every time I tried to sit down and tackle it, I’d just get tangled up in my own head. Doubt, procrastination, the whole shebang. It wasn’t even a big scary obstacle; it was more like a thousand tiny invisible threads holding me back. I was pushing, but nothing was moving. Frustrating as heck.
Now, I’m not usually one for super mystical stuff, but I do have this old, well-worn copy of the I Ching. Been sitting on my bookshelf for years, bought it on a whim during a trip once. Every now and then, when I’m really at a crossroads, I pull it out. It’s less about predicting the future for me and more about just getting a different angle, a different way to frame whatever mess I’m in. A good shake-up for the brain, you know?
So, one evening, after another fruitless session of staring at a blank screen and feeling my energy drain away, I just grabbed that old book. Figured, “Why not? Can’t hurt.” I went through the whole coin-tossing ritual, felt that familiar little clink and clatter, watching them tumble onto the table. There’s always this tiny moment of anticipation, right?
And when I laid them out, and looked up the hexagram, it was Number 35. “Chin.” Or as my version translated it, “Progress” or “Advancing.”
My first thought, I gotta be honest, was a bit of a cynical chuckle. “Progress? Yeah, no kidding, that’s what I want!” But then I started to actually read the lines, and something started to click. It talked about the sun rising over the earth. Daylight. Clarity. It wasn’t about a sudden, miraculous breakthrough. It was about consistent movement, about things becoming clear as you move forward. It spoke about the importance of being open, of illuminating your path, not hiding in the shadows.
That image of the sun rising, slowly but surely, that really resonated. I’d been trying to force a gigantic leap, trying to see the entire finished picture before I even took the first step. And that’s what was paralyzing me. The I Ching, or at least my interpretation of it that night, wasn’t telling me to suddenly become a genius. It was telling me to just… advance. To make progress, even if it was just a tiny bit each day.
I decided to put that advice into action, practically. Instead of waiting for a burst of inspiration to tackle the whole big project, I broke it down. Like, seriously small chunks. The next morning, I didn’t sit down with the goal of “finish the project.” I sat down with the goal of “write one good paragraph.” Or “research one small detail.” Or even just “organize my notes better.”
And you know what? It worked. That initial small step led to another. That one paragraph became two. That research tidbit sparked an idea for the next section. It was like each little bit of progress literally shed more light on the path ahead, just like that hexagram suggested. I wasn’t trying to light up the whole highway at once; I was just putting one foot in front of the other, and with each step, the next bit of road became visible.
Another thing that stuck with me from the reading was about being seen, about not shrinking away. I’d been holding this project close, almost secretive, because I was scared it wouldn’t be good enough. But the idea of “daylight” made me think about sharing. Not in a big, boastful way, but just letting a few trusted folks know what I was dabbling in. So, I started talking about it, casually, with friends. Shared a rough outline with a mentor. Just opened it up a little.
And that was huge. Suddenly, I wasn’t just alone in my head with it. I got encouragement, some really useful feedback, and even a couple of brilliant suggestions that I never would have thought of on my own. It wasn’t like they solved all my problems, but their input fueled my own progress. It was like shining a light on my work brought in more light from other sources too.
So, I kept at it. A little bit of progress every day. Sometimes it was just an hour, sometimes even less. But it was consistent. I stopped fighting against the unknown and started embracing the journey of discovery, letting the path reveal itself piece by piece. It wasn’t a race; it was a steady march forward.
And eventually, that project, the one that felt impossible for so long, started to coalesce. It took time, definitely. But it happened. It became something real, something I was genuinely proud of. And looking back, that simple I Ching reading wasn’t some magic spell. It was a kick in the pants, a shift in perspective. It reminded me that even when you feel like you’re in the dark, the sun is always on its way up, and all you need to do is keep taking those small, illuminated steps forward. It’s funny how sometimes the oldest wisdom can feel the most practical, isn’t it?
