Giang sơn nào anh hùng nấy (To each hero, his own realm) ~ Annon
I was Pissed!!!
I spent YEARS looking at the placement of the I Ching. It was maddening in its complexity. I tried this way. I tried that way. I stood on my head. I looked at it upside down. I spent countless hours digging up old information, scouring the world for new information, translating different languages, talking to every random person I could find who claimed to know the I Ching through meditation, through medication, through channeling, through random reincarnations, through their brother’s possessed transistor radio.
You name it, I tried it—only to find the same old words staring at me in the face. I was obsessed, but stuck, staring at tiny random whorls and pockmarks on a wall that was as ancient as dirt and wondering if they were made by design or by chance dust devils. The 64 hexagrams seemed to be so randomly placed that I just couldn’t figure out the pattern for it. What is the system? Is it random? Why is there no reason and rhyme for its accepted ancient pattern?
Finally, in a burst of frustration, I shattered the I Ching into bits and pieces. I hacked it with my sword of mental energies. I tore it up into shreds of its former glory. I blew it up into little confetti pieces. And breathing hard, I saw the pieces dance and flutter on a gentle breeze in the afternoon sun. And as the pieces floated down onto the ground in shiny drops of self-contained totality. I realized that I hadn’t destroyed it at all. I merely took a single I Ching and created a hundred other completely intact I Chings!
That was when I knew I was looking at a hologram.
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