Man, I woke up this morning, and the first thing I did was stare at this pile of half-painted trim sitting in the garage. It’s not a huge job, but I’ve been putting off finishing the last coat on this stuff for three straight weekends. Every time I walk past it, I feel this little nagging drag. I needed a kick in the pants. Not just some motivational poster pep talk, you know? I needed something solid, something that would tell me if I should actually attack it today or wait for the supposed better weather tomorrow. I can’t stand being stuck in that miserable decision loop where you do nothing because you can’t decide the perfect time to start.
How I Got Into This Whole I Ching Mess
Funny thing is, I never cared about this old book stuff. Never. Thought it was just mumbo jumbo. My buddy, Steve, he’s a total mess, always looking for signs in his coffee grounds, but he kept badgering me about it when I was going through a bad patch. I was in the middle of that big screw-up with the tax people a few years back, remember that whole ordeal? I felt completely paralyzed, like I was wading through mud, unable to make a clean move. I couldn’t trust my own judgment on anything simple, let alone tax forms.
One day, Steve just threw three coins at me across the bar table and told me to get a grip. He said, “Just ask a question and throw them. It’s better than staring at the wall, kid.” I was desperate, so I did it. The answer was so basic, so direct, it wasn’t about being mystical or complicated; it was just a gut check externalized. It cut right through all the noise I was making in my own head. Since then, I keep those three old nickels right by my desk. I don’t use them for big life things, only for the small daily crap I get stuck on. It forces a decision.
The Casting Process I Used Today
So, this morning, with the painting decision weighing on me, I grabbed those coins. I closed my eyes and focused on the single question: “Should I push to finish the trim painting today, or wait?” I held the coins tight, shaking them in my cupped hands for maybe a minute, really thinking hard about getting unstuck and acting decisively.
I dropped them six times total, counting up the result each time. I always use the simple coin-count method. Heads is 3, Tails is 2. I write down the number and then figure out the line type, from the bottom up. It’s quick and dirty, which is why I like it.
- First cast: 2 Tails, 1 Head (7, solid line).
- Second cast: 3 Tails (6, an old line that moves!).
- Third cast: 1 Tail, 2 Heads (8, broken line).
- Fourth cast: 2 Tails, 1 Head (7, solid line).
- Fifth cast: 1 Tail, 2 Heads (8, broken line).
- Sixth cast: 3 Heads (9, a young line that moves!).
I drew it up quickly. Bottom to top. Boom. That immediately gave me Hexagram 19: Lin / Approach. This hexagram is all about getting close to something, being present, capitalizing on the moment before things change. Crucially, I had two moving lines! The second line was an ‘old Yin’ (Line 2) and the sixth line was an ‘old Yang’ (Line 6). That made me pause for a second, but I didn’t let it get complicated.
The Real-World Interpretation and Action
I didn’t try to read the deep philosophical stuff. I just looked at the main takeaway for Hexagram 19: Timely approach works. Don’t drag your feet. The moving lines told the rest of the story. Line 2 (about being fortunate when approached) and Line 6 (about approach being difficult). To me, that cancelled out the fear that the painting was going to be difficult or messy (Line 6) and reinforced that just starting was the key to momentum (Line 2). The simple message was clear: Start now, you’ll find the luck you need by moving forward.
I used to think that kind of quick, rough-and-ready decision was reckless. I spent nearly a decade working for that massive logistics company downtown, right? The one that looked like a smooth-running machine from the outside. But inside? It was a total, bureaucratic nightmare. Every decision, no matter how tiny, had to go through twelve committees, three different vice-presidents, and a six-week PowerPoint presentation cycle. Everyone was terrified of making the wrong move, so they did nothing. Absolute paralysis.
We lost three huge clients because of inaction, not because of a bad plan. We literally had the better proposal, but our management was still “vetting the process” while the competition had already moved in. I remember one time, I suggested a super simple fix for the inventory system—just a minor database tweak that would save fifty man-hours a week, minimum. My boss told me I had to write a 100-page white paper on the implications and philosophical risk of the change. It was utter madness. They would spend six months analyzing whether they should spend five minutes doing something.
A few months later, they finally laid off my entire department—my whole team—via a two-line email because the software finally collapsed from sheer neglect. They didn’t even have the guts to call us or have a meeting. We were just erased. I remember sitting at my home desk, staring at the screen, and realizing that everything I had tried to do, all my caution and diligence, was worthless against a company that couldn’t act.
That entire nightmare taught me one big, lasting lesson: Action, even imperfect action, beats analysis and paralysis every single time. Waiting for the perfect moment is just an excuse to fail slowly. That’s what Hexagram 19 means to me now. Just Approach the problem before it snowballs into a disaster. If you approach, you get to keep moving. If you wait for the ‘perfect day,’ you lose everything.
The Final Result Today
So I didn’t wait. I didn’t check the weather app again. I just marched straight out to the garage, cranked up the music, and grabbed the brush. The weather was actually terrible, a damp, overcast kind of day—the opposite of what I wanted for paint drying. It didn’t matter. I stuck with it. I just focused on the simple task of getting the coat on the wood. By the time my wife came home, the last of the trim was drying nicely under the heat lamp. It’s done. Check. Hexagram 19 told me to approach, and I approached. No fuss, no drama, just results. Simple as that. Now I can move on to the next thing on my list.
