30. The Clinging, Fire

Above
The Clinging, Fire
Below
The Clinging, Fire

This hexa­gram is an­oth­er dou­ble sign. The tri­gram Li means “to cling to some­thing,” “to be con­di­tioned,” “to de­pend or rest on some­thing,” and also “bright­ness.” A dark line clings to two light lines, one above and one below—the image of an empty space be­tween two strong lines, where­by the two strong lines are made bright. The tri­gram rep­re­sents the mid­dle daugh­ter. The Cre­ative has in­cor­po­rat­ed the cen­tral line of the Re­cep­tive, and thus Li de­vel­ops. As an image, it is fire. Fire has no def­i­nite form but clings to the burn­ing ob­ject and thus is bright. As water pours down from heav­en, so fire flames up from the earth. While K’an means the soul shut with­in the body, Li stands for na­ture in its ra­di­ance.

The Judgement

THE CLINGING. Perseverance furthers.
It brings success.
Care of the cow brings good fortune.

What is dark clings to what is light and so en­hances the bright­ness of the lat­ter. A lu­mi­nous thing giv­ing out light must have with­in it­self some­thing that per­se­veres; oth­er­wise it will in tune burn it­self out. Every­thing that gives light is de­pen­dent on some­thing to which it clings, in order that it may con­tin­ue to shine.

Thus sun and moon cling to heav­en, and grain, grass, and trees cling to the earth. So too the twofold clar­i­ty of the ded­i­cat­ed man clings to what is right and there­by can shape the world. Human life on earth is con­di­tioned and un­free, and when man rec­og­nizes this lim­i­ta­tion and makes him­self de­pen­dent upon the har­mo­nious and benef­i­cent forces of the cos­mos, he achieves suc­cess. The cow is the sym­bol of ex­treme docil­i­ty. By cul­ti­vat­ing in him­self an at­ti­tude of com­pli­ance and vol­un­tary de­pen­dence, man ac­quires clar­i­ty with­out sharp­ness and finds his place in the world.

The Image

That which is bright rises twice:
The image of FIRE.
Thus the great man, by perpetuating this brightness,
Illumines the four quarters of the world.

Each of the two tri­grams rep­re­sents the sun in the course of a day. The two to­geth­er rep­re­sent the re­peat­ed move­ment of the sun, the func­tion of light with re­spect to time. The great man con­tin­ues the work of na­ture in the human world. Through the clar­i­ty of his na­ture he caus­es the light to spread far­ther and far­ther and to pen­e­trate the na­ture of man ever more deeply.

The Lines

Nine at the beginning means:
The footprints run crisscross.
If one is seriously intent, no blame.

It is early morn­ing and work be­gins. The mind has been closed to the out­side world in sleep; now its con­nec­tions with the world begin again. The traces of one’s im­pres­sions run criss­cross. Ac­tiv­i­ty and haste’ pre­vail. It is im­por­tant then to pre­serve inner com­po­sure and not to allow one­self to be swept along by the bus­tle of life. If one is se­ri­ous and com­posed, he can ac­quire the clar­i­ty of mind need­ed for com­ing to terms with the in­nu­mer­able im­pres­sions that pour in. It is pre­cise­ly at the be­gin­ning that se­ri­ous con­cen­tra­tion is im­por­tant, be­cause the be­gin­ning holds the seed of all that is to fol­low.

Six in the second place means:
Yellow light. Supreme good fortune.

Mid­day has come; the sun shines with a yel­low light. Yel­low is the color of mea­sure and mean. Yel­low light is there­fore a sym­bol of the high­est cul­ture and art, whose con­sum­mate har­mo­ny con­sists in hold­ing to the mean.

Nine in the third place means:
In the light of the setting sun,
Men either beat the pot and sing
Or loudly bewail the approach of old age.
Misfortune.

Here the end of the day has come. The light of the set­ting sun calls to mind the fact that life is tran­si­to­ry and con­di­tion­al. Caught in this ex­ter­nal bondage, men are usu­al­ly robbed of their inner free­dom as well. The sense of the tran­si­tori­ness of life im­pels them to un­in­hib­it­ed rev­el­ry in order to enjoy life while it lasts, or else they yield to melan­choly and spoil the pre­cious time by lament­ing the ap­proach of old age. Both at­ti­tudes are wrong. To the su­pe­ri­or man it makes no dif­fer­ence whether death comes early or late. He cul­ti­vates him­self, awaits his al­lot­ted time, and in this way se­cures his fate.

Nine in the fourth place means:
Its coming is sudden;
It flames up, dies down, is thrown away.

Clar­i­ty of mind has the same re­la­tion to life that fire has to wood. Fire clings to wood, but also con­sumes it. Clar­i­ty of mind is root­ed in life but can also con­sume it. Every­thing de­pends upon how the clar­i­ty func­tions. Here the image used is that of a me­te­or or a straw fire. A man who is ex­citable and rest­less may rise quick­ly to promi­nence but pro­duces no last­ing ef­fects. Thus mat­ters end badly when a man spends him­self too rapid­ly and con­sumes him­self like a me­te­or.

Six in the fifth place means:
Tears in floods, sighing and lamenting.
Good fortune.

Here the zenith of life has been reached. Were there no warn­ing, one would at this point con­sume one­self like a flame. In­stead, un­der­stand­ing the van­i­ty of all things, one may put aside both hope and fear, and sigh and lament: if one is in­tent on re­tain­ing his clar­i­ty of mind, good for­tune will come from this grief. For here we are deal­ing not with a pass­ing mood, as in the nine in the third place, but with a real change of heart.

Nine at the top means:
The king uses him to march forth and chastise.
Then it is best to kill the leaders
And take captive the followers. No blame.

It is not the pur­pose of chas­tise­ment to im­pose pun­ish­ment blind­ly but to cre­ate dis­ci­pline. Evil must be cured at its roots. To erad­i­cate evil in po­lit­i­cal life, it is best to kill the ring­lead­ers and spare the fol­low­ers. In ed­u­cat­ing one­self it is best to root out bad habits and tol­er­ate those that are harm­less. For as­ceti­cism that is too strict, like sen­tences of undue sever­i­ty, fails in its pur­pose.