hard throw

A couple of years ago, a beloved mentor gave me the I Ching and three cowrie shells that she had picked up off a beach in the Dominican Republican. I throw when I'm really at a loss and write the results in a little book. The ritualistic nature of the endeavor provides a distance from my worries by allowing me to create an interpretive narrative about them. More importantly, it gives troubles a future. I have never encountered stagnancy. There is always an outcome and change, as well as a strategy for how to get to that moment of transition or how to prepare yourself to receive it.

Because the winter was so productive and fast-moving, I haven't thrown since I had a bout of amnesia in the fall and feng shui'ed my studio.

Now that I am adrift, it seemed a good time to consult with the I Ching.

Knowing what question to ask is the most important thing you can do to figure out what kind of directives are appropriate. I think my question might have been broad: "How can I motivate myself to get my dissertation done and a position for after grad school is done." Maybe a little bit broad, yes.

[Kên]
— •
- -
- -
[K'un]
- - •
- -
- - •

After looking at the chart at the back of the book to see what judgment and image the Kên upper K'un lower combines into, number 23, flip flip flip the pages, scan down to 23 which is Po: Splitting Apart.

The I Ching is deceptive though with its language: its translation from Chinese to German to a cheery contemporary American idiom can result in some counter-intuitive phrases. So I breathe deep and read on, only to find that no, in this case, the bad feeling brought about by "splitting apart" is quite warranted: "Gradual undermining. It does not further one to go anywhere. Submit, and avoid action."

So, does this call for an immediate email to advisors letting them that I'll be hiding out until the I Ching says it's alright to stop submitting? And what exactly am I submitting to? Or perhaps "action" is something I'm misunderstanding. After all, writing isn't too physically active, if you wanted to think of it as that. Does this line of interpretation sound absurd to you? Because it does to me.

I can't, however, discount the description's eerie prescience: "The inferior, dark forces overcome what is superior and strong, not by direct means, but by undermining it gradually and imperceptibly, so that it finally collapses."

That is possibly the most compact, poetic image for how depression feels: the precariousness of each day, the sense of being worn down, inexplicably, invisibly. That one slim line of stability without any support.

The image that so simply and powerfully delineates fragility also provides the appropriate action to take during this adverse time, which as the I Ching states without sympathetic adornment is due to circumstances and not a personal failure on my part. Indeed, it is impossible to counteract the alternations of increase and decrease, fullness and emptiness. The only response is to remain quiet. The notion of submission is not one that is commonly promoted in my society. I still don't know how to submit, or rather, what submission looks like in this circumstance.

Trusting the explanation to start to correlate with what I see as my only options (that is, to continue writing, working, and breathing), I read the explanations for the moving lines, the yin lines that are moving into yang and the last line, the only stable yang line moving into a yin lang.

"Six in the beginning means:
The leg of the bed is split.
Those who persevere are destroyed.
Misfortune."

Well then. That's clear enough. No more breathing, working, or writing, since those seem like perseverances.
"The situation bodes disaster, yet there is nothing to do but wait."

"Six in the third place means:
He splits with them. No blame."

This at least allows for an action: I am to split from an evil environment to which I am committed by external lines. Not to be too prescriptive about this, but I really didn't think my department was in such bad shape, in fact I am very close and have much affection for many people in it. Inscrutable. Moving on.

"Nine at the top means:
There is a large fruit still uneaten.
The superior man receives a carriage.
The house of the inferior man is split apart."

And, my ribcage opens up and I inhale, deeply: "When misfortune has spent itself, better times return."

THE LISTS (covering a few days now)

to do class: Write JM recommendation. Grade midterms.
done! Prepped Horace lecture. Minimally. Wrote Horace quiz. Wrote Horace lecture. Read Catullus and Vergil secondary sources.

to do work: Write Pépin performatic writing section.
done! Wrote small abstract of c4. Outlined the section. Wrote 2 paragraphs out of 6.

to do life: Pay down debt (currently $3,430). Procure dog. Redo taxes. Pilates. Call Jessie Delgado; at your service.
done! Dishes. Cooked potato prosciutto thing. Went to the bank. Took out the trash.

to do blitz: sarah, marilyn, giulia, irmary, mariana, dar, nv

Netflixed: The 40-Year-Old Virgin. Did I see the director's cut? It was unbelievably long, at least it felt unbelievably long and only marginally funny. Yup, waxing is no good. Got it.

Reading for fun: The Subtle Knife. I miss reading fantasy kiddie lit. Must consult with Marinn for more good books in this vein and thank Cindy for turning me onto it in the first place.