小畜
xiǎo xù

9. The Taming Power of the Small

䷈
Above
巽 xùn
The Gentle, Wind
Below
乾 qián
The Creative, Heaven

This hexa­gram means the force of the small—the power of the shad­owy—that re­strains, tames, im­pedes. A weak line in the fourth place, that of the min­is­ter, holds the five strong lines in check. In the Image it is the wind blow­ing across the sky. The wind re­strains the clouds, the ris­ing breath of the Cre­ative, and makes them grow dense, but as yet is not strong enough to turn them to rain. The hexa­gram presents a con­fig­u­ra­tion of cir­cum­stances in which a strong el­e­ment is tem­porar­i­ly held in leash by a weak el­e­ment. It is only through gen­tle­ness that this can have a suc­cess­ful out­come.

The Judgement

The taming power of the small
Has success.
Dense clouds, no rain from our western region.

This image refers to the state of af­fairs in China at the time when King Wen, who came orig­i­nal­ly from the west, was in the east at the court of the reign­ing tyrant Chou Hsin. The mo­ment for ac­tion on a large scale had not yet ar­rived. King Wen could only keep the tyrant some­what in check by friend­ly per­sua­sion. Hence the image of many clouds, promis­ing mois­ture and bless­ing to the land, al­though as yet no rain falls. The sit­u­a­tion is not un­fa­vor­able; there is a prospect of ul­ti­mate suc­cess, but there are still ob­sta­cles m the way, and we can mere­ly take prepara­to­ry mea­sures. Only through the small means of friend­ly per­sua­sion can we exert any in­flu­ence. The tune has not yet come for sweep­ing mea­sures. How­ev­er, we may he able, to a lim­it­ed ex­tent, to act as a re­strain­ing and sub­du­ing in­flu­ence. To carry out our pur­pose we need firm de­ter­mi­na­tion with­in and gen­tle­ness and adapt­abil­i­ty in ex­ter­nal re­la­tions.

The Image

The wind drives across heaven:
The image of the taming power of the small.
Thus the superior man
Refines the outward aspect of his nature.

The wind can in­deed drive the clouds to­geth­er in the sky; yet, being noth­ing but air, with­out solid body, it does not pro­duce great or last­ing ef­fects. So also an in­di­vid­ual, in times when he can pro­duce no great ef­fect in the outer world, can do noth­ing ex­cept re­fine the ex­pres­sion of his na­ture in small ways.

The Lines

Nine at the beginning means:
Return to the way.
How could there be blame in this?
Good fortune.

It lies in the na­ture of a strong man to press for­ward. In so doing he en­coun­ters ob­struc­tions. There­fore he re­turns to the way suit­ed to his sit­u­a­tion, where he is free to ad­vance or to re­treat. In the na­ture of things this will bring good for­tune, for it is wise and rea­son­able not to try to ob­tain any­thing by force.

Nine in the second place means:
He allows himself to be drawn into returning.
Good fortune.

One would like to press for­ward, hut be­fore going far­ther one sees from the ex­am­ple of oth­ers like one­self that this way is blocked. In such a case, if the ef­fort to push for­ward is not in har­mo­ny with the time,2 a rea­son­able and res­olute man will not ex­pose him­self to a per­son­al re­buff, but will re­treat with oth­ers of like mind. This brings good for­tune, be­cause he does not need­less­ly jeop­ar­dize him­self.

Nine in the third place means:
The spokes burst out of the wagon wheels.
Man and wife roll their eyes.

Here an at­tempt is made to press for­ward forcibly, in the con­scious­ness that the ob­struct­ing power is slight. But since, under the cir­cum­stances, power ac­tu­al­ly lies with the weak, this sud­den of­fen­sive is doomed to fail­ure. Ex­ter­nal con­di­tions hin­der the ad­vance, just as loss of the wheel spokes stops the progress of a wagon. We do not yet heed this hint from fate, hence there are an­noy­ing ar­gu­ments like those of a mar­ried cou­ple. Nat­u­ral­ly this is not a fa­vor­able state of things, for though the sit­u­a­tion may en­able the weak­er side to hold its ground, the dif­fi­cul­ties are too nu­mer­ous to per­mit of a happy re­sult. In con­se­quence even the strong man can­not so use his power as to exert the right in­flu­ence on those around him. He ex­pe­ri­ences a re­buff where he ex­pect­ed an easy vic­to­ry, and he thus com­pro­mis­es his dig­ni­ty.

Six in the fourth place means:
If you are sincere, blood vanishes and fear gives way.
No blame.

If one is in the dif­fi­cult and re­spon­si­ble po­si­tion of coun­selor to a pow­er­ful man, one should re­strain him in such a way that right may pre­vail. There­in lies a dan­ger so great that the threat of ac­tu­al blood­shed may arise. Nonethe­less, the power of dis­in­ter­est­ed truth is greater than all these ob­sta­cles. It car­ries such weight that the end is achieved, and all dan­ger of blood­shed and all fear dis­ap­pear.

Nine in the fifth place means:
If you are sincere and loyally attached,
You are rich in your neighbor.

Loy­al­ty leads to firm ties be­cause it means that each part­ner com­ple­ments the other. In the weak­er per­son loy­al­ty con­sists in de­vo­tion, in the stronger it con­sists in trust­wor­thi­ness. This re­la­tion of mu­tu­al re­in­force­ment leads to a true wealth that is all the more ap­par­ent be­cause it is not self­ish­ly hoard­ed but is shared with friends. Plea­sure shared is plea­sure dou­bled.

Nine at the top means:
The rain comes, there is rest.
This is due to the lasting effect of character.
Perseverance brings the woman into danger.
The moon is nearly full.
If the superior man persists,
Misfortune comes.

Suc­cess is at hand. The wind has dri­ven up the rain. A fixed stand­point has been reached. This has come about through the cu­mu­la­tion of small ef­fects pro­duced by rev­er­ence for a su­pe­ri­or char­ac­ter. But a suc­cess thus se­cured bit by bit calls for great cau­tion. It would be a dan­ger­ous il­lu­sion for any­one to think he could pre­sume upon it. The fe­male prin­ci­ple, the weak el­e­ment that has won the vic­to­ry, should never per­sist in vaunt­ing it—that would lead to dan­ger. The dark power in the moon is strongest when the moon is al­most full. When it is full and di­rect­ly op­po­site the sun, its wan­ing is in­evitable. Under such cir­cum­stances one must be con­tent with what has been achieved. To ad­vance any fur­ther, be­fore the ap­pro­pri­ate time has come, would lead to mis­for­tune.