Man, finding true peace? That’s a journey, let me tell you. For a long time, I felt like I was just running on a hamster wheel, you know? Always chasing the next thing, always feeling a bit off-kilter. My mind was always buzzing, schedules were packed, and I just felt this constant hum of low-level stress. It wasn’t anything dramatic, just this persistent feeling that I wasn’t quite there yet, wherever ‘there’ was.
I heard about the I Ching from a friend a while back, who swore by it for some clarity. I was skeptical, to be honest. Sounded a bit woo-woo for my taste. But I was desperate enough to try anything that promised even a sliver of calm. So, I grabbed a really old, dog-eared copy from a second-hand store, dusted it off, and just started flipping through it.
I didn’t really know what I was doing at first. I just read the introduction, which barely made sense, and then just picked a hexagram, hoping for some magic answer. It wasn’t Hexagram 11 at first. It was something else, something about ‘holding firm’ or ‘difficulty at the beginning.’ I just thought, “Yeah, that’s my life alright.” But it didn’t click.
Then, a few weeks later, after another particularly frustrating day where everything just felt like it was going backwards, I decided to try again. I didn’t do the whole coin-tossing thing, because, frankly, I didn’t get it. I just opened the book to a random page. And there it was, Hexagram 11. Peace. Thai. That’s what it called it. My eyes just stopped there.
Understanding the Vibe
I read through the interpretation, and it felt different from the others. It talked about “heaven and earth in communion,” about a time of “flourishing,” about things just working together. It wasn’t about fighting or struggling; it was about this natural flow. It painted a picture of everything being in its right place, like a big, collective exhale. That really grabbed me. I wanted that exhale.
I remember just sitting there, thinking about that image. Heaven above earth. It made me visualize my own life, not as a struggle, but as a potential for things to just naturally align. It wasn’t about forcing it; it was about recognizing when things were aligning, and leaning into that.
Putting it into Play
So, I started looking for it, you know? Not actively seeking perfection, but just noticing when things felt right. I tried to adjust my perspective. Instead of getting mad when a meeting ran long, I thought about whether it was creating a space for something better to emerge, like unexpected collaboration. Most times it wasn’t, but sometimes, it actually did.
I began to deliberately create moments of “peace” in my day. Nothing fancy. I started making sure my desk was clear before I left for the evening. I stopped checking emails right before bed. I walked for 15 minutes without my phone, just to feel the air and see the trees.
- I noticed when my breathing was shallow and practiced taking deeper breaths.
- I listened more intently when people spoke, trying to find the connection rather than just waiting to respond.
- I challenged myself to let go of small annoyances, telling myself, “This isn’t worth disrupting the peace.”
It wasn’t always easy. There were plenty of days when I slipped back into old habits, felt that familiar tightness in my chest, and just wished I could fast-forward through the chaos. I doubted if this “Hexagram 11 thing” was really doing anything. But then I’d open the book again, or just remember that feeling of “heaven and earth in communion,” and I’d try again.
The Shift That Happened
The real shift came slowly, almost imperceptibly. It wasn’t an “aha!” moment with fireworks. It was more like waking up one morning and realizing the constant buzz in my head wasn’t there anymore. Or sitting in traffic and instead of raging, just listening to a podcast and feeling okay about the delay. I stopped fighting against the small stuff.
I learned to trust the rhythm of things. Some days are just going to be messy, and that’s okay. Hexagram 11 isn’t about perpetual bliss; it’s about the potential for harmony, and recognizing that even in the mess, there are moments of peace if you look for them, and create space for them. I found that by deliberately seeking that alignment, I actually started to live it.
True peace, for me, turned out to be less about an external state and more about an internal shift. It’s about aligning myself with the natural flow, trusting that things can come together, and noticing the moments when they do. It’s a practice, not a destination. And it all started with an old book and Hexagram 11.
