Man, sometimes you just hit a wall. You get all the data, you run all the numbers, and your gut still feels like a tangled mess of old fishing line. That’s exactly where I landed a few weeks back when I was trying to figure out this new business partnership. On the surface, it looked great. Big names, big potential money, but something felt off. Like a promise written in the sand.
I usually lean on spreadsheets and P&L statements, but when the inner dialogue is stuck on repeat, I ditch the calculator and pull out the old tools. The I Ching. I needed the kind of clarity that only the oldest text on the planet can offer—something that cuts through the noise and hits you with real, unvarnished truth.
The Setup: Why I Needed to Ask the Spirits
I was wrestling with whether to sign a contract with this dude, Mark. Mark talks a good game, he’s got the suit and the flashy watch, but my intuition kept screaming, “Slow down, idiot.” The stakes were high; if this went sideways, it wasn’t just my time, it was my entire reputation. I couldn’t figure out if my hesitation was healthy caution or just fear paralyzing me.
So, I decided to consult the oracle. I pulled out the three old copper coins I keep in a silk bag. I bought these years ago in a dusty shop in Taipei, and they’ve been my trusty companions ever since. I sat down at my desk, cleared the space, and spent a solid ten minutes just trying to get quiet. You gotta respect the process, you know? It’s not a magic 8-ball.
I formulated the question very specifically. I didn’t ask, “Will this partnership work?” That’s too vague. I asked, “What is the true nature of my relationship with this new venture, and should I proceed based on my current level of inner conviction?” That focuses the answer on me and my sincerity, not just external outcomes.
The Practice: Casting the Lines
I shook the coins vigorously in my cupped hands. The sound is distinct—that clinking copper always reminds me to focus. Six times, I tossed them onto the wooden desktop, carefully marking down the line for each throw. It felt slow, deliberate. It’s funny how in this hyper-speed digital world, something as simple as counting heads and tails can feel so grounding.
The calculation was quick. I calculated the scores line by line, moving from bottom to top, stacking the trigrams. I was waiting for fire, water, earth—whatever. But when I finished tallying, the structure was immediately clear. I had cast Hexagram 61. And it was solid. No changing lines. Pure, unadulterated Hexagram 61: Chung Fu (Inner Truth, or Central Return).
Man, when that hexagram popped up, I almost laughed. It was the perfect slap in the face.
The Realization: What Hexagram 61 Demanded
I read through the judgment and the image a few times. You know the image for 61? It’s wind over lake. But the core meaning is absolute sincerity. It talks about things like a bird sitting on its egg—you have to have perfect trust and stillness to hatch it. It also talks about how even pigs and fishes can be affected by inner truth. That’s deep, right? If your sincerity is strong enough, even the most primal, unthinking creatures will respond to it.
I had been treating this business deal like a calculation, a transaction. But the I Ching didn’t care about Mark’s financials or the market share. It cared about my heart. It basically told me:
- Are you entering this deal with 100% conviction, or are you holding back 50% just in case it fails?
- Is your intention pure, or is there some underlying selfishness or fear driving the decision?
- If you want to influence the outcome, you must first secure your own center. You can’t fake Inner Truth.
I immediately understood why my gut felt twisted. I was trying to force a partnership that I didn’t truly trust, hoping my own competence would carry the dead weight of my doubts. I was lying to myself about my commitment level, and that lack of sincerity was the energy drain.
I thought back to the example of the pig and the fish. Mark was the fish in this analogy—unthinking, maybe slippery. If I couldn’t move him with genuine, solid conviction, then the relationship was doomed to superficiality. And a superficial partnership in a high-stakes game? That’s a guaranteed disaster.
The Outcome: Making the Hard Call
The I Ching didn’t say, “Don’t sign the contract.” It said, “Check your sincerity.” And when I checked it, honestly, it wasn’t there. I realized I was prioritizing potential cash over peace of mind. My core was shaky, which meant any structure built on top of it would also be shaky. The Hexagram 61 reading was the mirror I needed.
I took a deep breath and made the tough call. I emailed Mark and pulled the plug. I explained that while the opportunity was great, I couldn’t proceed at this time. He was pissed, of course, giving me the whole “you’re missing out” routine. But honestly, I felt lighter instantly. The knot in my stomach untied itself the moment I honored the Inner Truth that the casting revealed.
The practice wasn’t about getting a fortune; it was about forcing myself to look inside and ask, “Am I being real?” Hexagram 61 doesn’t tolerate half-measures or compromise in conviction. If you feel like you’re wavering, don’t move. Go back to your center, secure that foundation, and only then proceed. That’s the true practice record I took away from that session, and it’s something I’m constantly reminded of every time I look at those old copper coins.
