Master Gangxiao: The Mysteries of the I Ching — Psychology Chapter Six: Different Views for Different Eyes: The I Ching as a Psychological Testing Tool

Chapter Six: Different Views for Different Eyes: The I Ching as a Psychological Testing Tool

From the analysis above, a psychological testing tool should leave the subject ample room for thought, so that the various ideas of the benevolent and the wise can each find expression and each take their proper place. The sixty-four hexagrams of the I Ching happen to meet these conditions. In the Zhou Yi, yang is written as a single long stroke ──, and yin as two short strokes － －, or one might think of the yang symbol as a line broken in the middle. The eight pure trigrams are all possible combinations of these two symbols taken three at a time. Each trigram has three lines—upper, middle, and lower—and each position can be either yin or yang. By the permutation formula, that gives 2×2×2 = 8 possibilities, meaning eight trigrams. They are called Qian (Heaven), Kun (Earth), Zhen (Thunder), Gen (Mountain), Li (Fire), Kan (Water), Dui (Lake), and Xun (Wind); these eight are the pure trigrams. They combine two by two, one above and one below. For instance, when Qian sits above Kun, the Yi Jing calls this the Pi hexagram; when Kun sits above Qian, it is called the Tai hexagram, and so on. The upper-lower pairings of the eight pure trigrams yield 64 possibilities, so apart from the pure trigrams themselves, the I Ching contains 64 hexagrams. Each hexagram has six positions from top to bottom, called the six lines. Thus, 64 hexagrams with 6 lines each give 64×6 = 384 lines in total. With so many lines, it is quite sufficient as a psychological testing tool—after all, Jung's word association test uses only a hundred words, and the Rorschach test only ten inkblots.

The Zhou Yi itself holds that its abundance of situations and numbers can encompass all things under heaven. The Xi Ci Shang Zhuan (Great Treatise, Part One) says: "The numerical stalks of Qian amount to two hundred and sixteen; of Kun, one hundred and forty-four; in all, three hundred and sixty, corresponding to the days of a year. The stalks of the two parts of the Yi amount to eleven thousand five hundred and twenty, corresponding to the number of all things. Therefore, by four operations the Yi is formed; by eighteen changes a hexagram is completed. The eight trigrams constitute the small completion. Extend and unfold them; touch upon categories and they grow: all that can be done under heaven is thereby exhausted (Chapter 9)." It also says: "How vast and great is the Yi! Speaking of what is far, it has no bounds; speaking of what is near, it is still and correct; speaking of what lies between Heaven and Earth, it is complete (Chapter 6)." And in the Xi Ci Xia Zhuan (Great Treatise, Part Two): "The Yi as a book is vast, great, and completely comprehensive. In it is the way of Heaven; in it is the way of Man; in it is the way of Earth (Chapter 10)." "Corresponding to the number of all things" means it encompasses all things in the world; "all that can be done under heaven is thereby exhausted" means it covers everything that could possibly exist; "speaking of what lies between Heaven and Earth, it is complete" means it leaves nothing out between Heaven and Earth; and "vast, great, and completely comprehensive" means its scope is immense, including Heaven, Earth, and Humanity. Because the Yi Jing covers such broad ground and offers such wide space for reflection, it possesses the necessary conditions and potential to serve as a psychological testing tool.

The Shuo Gua Zhuan (Treatise on the Explanation of the Trigrams) extends the eight trigrams even further to encompass all things under heaven. "Qian is the Strong; Kun is the Yielding; Zhen is the Arousing; Xun is the Penetrating; Kan is the Abysmal; Li is the Clinging; Gen is the Keeping Still; Dui is the Joyous." "Qian is the horse; Kun is the ox; Zhen is the dragon; Xun is the cock; Kan is the pig; Li is the pheasant; Gen is the dog; Dui is the sheep." "Qian is Heaven; it is the round; it is the ruler; it is the father; it is jade; it is metal; it is cold; it is ice; it is the great red; it is the good horse; it is the old horse; it is the lean horse; it is the piebald horse; it is the fruit of trees." "Kun is Earth; it is the mother; it is cloth; it is the cauldron; it is parsimony; it is the level; it is the cow with calf; it is the great wagon; it is patterning; it is the multitude; it is the handle. As to Earth, it is the black." "Zhen is Thunder; it is the dragon; it is the dark yellow; it is the spreading; it is the great road; it is the eldest son; it is the decisive and hasty; it is the azure bamboo; it is the reed. As to the horse, it is the one that neighs well, the one with white hind legs, the one with high forehead. As to crops, it is the kind that grows backward. At its extremity, it becomes the strong; it is the flourishing and fresh." "Xun is Wood; it is wind; it is the eldest daughter; it is the plumb line and the level; it is the craftsman; it is the white; it is the long; it is the tall; it is advance and retreat; it is indecisiveness; it is the fragrant. As to Man, it is the sparse-haired; it is the broad forehead; it is the much-white-of-eyes; it is the one that gains threefold profit in nearby markets. At its extremity, it becomes the trigram of hastiness." "Kan is Water; it is ditches and channels; it is concealment; it is the bending and the straightening; it is the bow and the wheel. As to Man, it is the added worry; it is heart-disease; it is earache; it is the blood-line; it is the red. As to the horse, it is the one with beautiful spine, the quick-tempered one, the one with hanging head, the thin-hoofed, the one that drags. As to the wagon, it is the one with many flaws. Commonly it is the moon; it is the thief. As to wood, it is the hard and many-knotted." "Li is Fire; it is the sun; it is lightning; it is the middle daughter; it is the coat of mail and helmet; it is the spear and the weapon. As to Man, it is the big-bellied; it is the turtle; it is the crab; it is the snail; it is the clam; it is the tortoise. As to wood, it is the kind that is hollow above and dry." "Gen is Mountain; it is the pathway; it is the small stone; it is the gateway; it is the fruit and the gourd; it is the doorkeeper and the eunuch; it is the finger; it is the dog; it is the rat; it is the kind with black beak. As to wood, it is the hard and many-jointed." "Dui is the Lake; it is the youngest daughter; it is the shaman; it is the mouth and tongue; it is the broken and the split. As to Earth, it is the hard and saline; it is the concubine; it is the sheep."

Later generations further expanded this passage from the Shuo Gua Zhuan into the Wan Wu Lei Xiang (Categorical Images of All Things), whose scope is even broader and which is more practical for I Ching divination. But since the Wan Wu Lei Xiang is not, after all, original text from the Zhou Yi, I won't quote it in full here—only give a general sense of it. Take the Qian trigram: (1) In celestial phenomena: heaven, ice, snow, frost. (2) In geography: the northwest, the capital, great prefectures, strategic locations, high and open ground. (3) Among people: rulers, fathers, great men, elders, seniors, officials, the famous, those in public service. (4) In human affairs: being strong and brave, resolute, more active than still. (5) In the body: the head, bones, lungs. The remaining categories are abbreviated below: (6) seasons, (7) animals, (8) inanimate objects, (9) dwellings, (10) household, (11) marriage, (12) food and drink, (13) childbirth, (14) seeking fame, (15) seeking advancement, (16) transactions, (17) seeking profit, (18) travel, (19) visits, (20) illness, (21) legal matters, (22) directions, (23) colors, (24) names, (25) numbers, (26) the five flavors. These categories and their contents all serve as prompts for association, much like the hundred words in Jung's word association test. Nouns from irrelevant categories flash by unnoticed, but a relevant word immediately catches your attention and you select it. A Chinese student walking down a street in Tokyo—many people pass through his field of vision, fleeting and forgotten—but the moment a teacher from China appears, he snaps to attention and singles out that face. Someone who comes for a divination because of a marital dispute ignores the categories for animals, inanimate objects, or illness, and locks onto "marriage" at once. Among all the categorical images you present, only that one thing—marriage—registers. If the divorce stems from the other party's illness, he'll also notice the "illness" category. This truly shares a common essence with Jung's word association method. Of course, these categorical images serve only as prompts; one shouldn't apply them mechanically but should read them in light of the actual circumstances at hand. One winter evening, the poet and I Ching scholar Shao Yong was warming himself by the stove with his son when someone knocked on the door to borrow something. The son cast the hexagram Gou changing to Xun, which suggested an object of short metal and long wood. He judged it to be a hoe. His father said, "No, it should be an axe." In the evening, borrowing a hoe makes little sense—nine times out of ten, someone borrows an axe to split firewood for warmth. Even Jung, after all, still needed to interpret the key words his subjects selected.

Furthermore, the hexagram statements (gua ci) and line statements (yao ci) in the Zhou Yi are themselves the products of their author's free association, and can serve as models of free association for the hexagrams and lines. The Xi Ci Xia Zhuan says: "The feelings of the sage appear in the statements"—meaning that when the sage composed these texts, he expressed his own feelings and views, reflecting his own psychology. For instance, in the Qian hexagram, the lowest line is yang, a single long stroke. The line statement reads: "Hidden dragon, do not act"—imagining that lowest stroke as a dragon submerged in deep water, unable to accomplish anything. In the Da Zhuang hexagram, the lower trigram is also Qian, and the lowest line is likewise yang, a single long stroke. Does it use the hidden dragon metaphor again? Does it still call to mind a dragon beneath deep water? No—this time the author associated it with toes: "Strength in the toes. To set forth brings misfortune, yet there is sincerity." After all, the lowest position is where a person's toes are. In the Da You hexagram, the lower trigram is also Qian and the lowest line again a single long stroke; this time, the author associated it with people at the very bottom of society—those who don't push themselves forward, who aren't arrogant, and therefore make no mistakes and have few troubles. As the Chinese saying goes, troubles come only from sticking your neck out. The line statement reads: "No interaction brings harm; no blame"—where jiao (interaction/ornamentation) is read as jiao (pride). In the Tai hexagram, the lower trigram is again Qian and the lowest line yet again a single long stroke; this time, the author thought of the roots of cogon grass beneath the ground, tangled and interwoven, and from there reasoned that people should likewise bind themselves together. The line statement reads: "Pull up the cogon grass, roots and all, with its kindred." These associations are truly kaleidoscopic—the very same lowest stroke, at different times and in different contexts, even from the same author, calls forth entirely different images. This is free association in the truest sense.

The authors of the hexagram statements, line statements, and Xiang Zhuan (Commentary on the Images) in the Yi Jing were all people of fine moral cultivation and noble character who took the education of all under heaven as their personal mission. The associations they made and the "statements" they wrote invariably urged people to strengthen their self-cultivation and practice benevolence and righteousness, embodying Confucian ideals—such as the advice noted above: don't be proud, be harmonious, unite like the roots of cogon grass. This is why later Confucians placed the Yi Jing at the head of the Four Books and Five Classics. Had someone else made these associations and written these line statements, the results would have been startling. A thief looking at the lowest stroke might think: the bottom is the base of a chest—where the master keeps his money or jewels. A doctor might recall a patient with athlete's foot he treated the day before. A severely depressed person, burdened with self-loathing and guilt, might think: I am the lowest of the low—I might as well end it all. A detective wouldn't think about people uniting like cogon roots; he might picture an underground criminal network, its members colluding, and could even regale you with a case he solved with particular satisfaction. And so it goes—the benevolent see benevolence, the wise see wisdom.

The above deals mainly with associations made from individual lines. But one can also open up associations from the composition of the hexagrams themselves. The sixty-four hexagrams are formed by pairing the eight pure trigrams two by two, and the two trigrams in each hexagram symbolize things in the natural world, as described earlier. Associations can flow from these combinations. For example, when Zhen (Thunder) is above and Xun (Wind) is below, it is called the Heng hexagram—written as "Thunder over Wind: Heng." When Dui (Lake) is below and Xun (Wind) is above, it is called "Wind over Lake: Zhong Fu." Heng—great wind and thunder together—what does that bring to mind? Zhong Fu—wind blowing across a lake—what does that call up? A hundred people might have a hundred different thoughts. The author of the Yi Jing had his own and wrote them down, and what he wrote would certainly not match any of those hundred exactly.

The author of the Zhou Yi was a junzi—a gentleman—and he made his associations from that standpoint. For the Qian hexagram (Heaven above, Heaven below), he looked at Heaven and thought of the ceaseless movement of the sun and moon, and that a gentleman should emulate this spirit, striving without end. Thus: "The Image says: The movement of Heaven is full of strength; accordingly, the gentleman strengthens himself without ceasing." For the Kun hexagram (Earth above, Earth below), he looked at Earth and thought of its depth, which can bear all things, and that a gentleman should likewise cultivate generous virtue to contain all things. Thus: "The Image says: The condition of Earth is receptive; accordingly, the gentleman, with generous virtue, bears all things." For the Xiao Chu hexagram (Wind above, Heaven below)—wind in the sky—he thought that a gentleman should refine his writings, talents, and moral character, so that one day, like the wind aloft, they might spread far and wide: "The Image says: Wind moves across the sky—Xiao Chu. The gentleman refines his outward virtue and culture." To make such associations is truly the mark of a Confucian, a person of benevolence, a gentleman.

Associations on hexagrams can also proceed from the arrangement of yin and yang lines. For example, in the Yi hexagram, the top and bottom lines are yang—unbroken long strokes—while the middle four are yin—broken strokes. Visually, it resembles an open mouth, and from that mouth, the author of the Yi Jing thought of speaking and eating. Yet a craftsman looking at the same shape might think of a door, and a bird-keeper might think of a birdcage. The further associations diverge too. From the mouth, the author thought of "being cautious in speech and moderate in eating"—that is, speak carefully and eat moderately. Hand the same image to someone else, and the word "mouth" might not lead there at all—perhaps instead to the lines "Give me three hundred lychees a day, and I'd gladly stay in Lingnan forever," or "I'd rather drink the water of Jianye than eat the fish of Wuchang." You never know.

In short, like other psychological testing tools, the Zhou Yi can leave the subject a vast space for thought, allowing each person to see according to their own nature—the benevolent see benevolence, the wise see wisdom—and each to find their proper place, reflecting and revealing the psychology of the one being tested. Or to put it another way, the Zhou Yi shares the same essential principle as other scientific methods of psychological testing: the selection of the information one needs. The benevolent see benevolence; the wise see wisdom.

Chapter Seven: Overview of the I Ching Method of Psychological Testing

The Zhouyi (Book of Changes) is divided into two parts. The first is the Yijing (Classic of Changes); the second is the Yizhuan (Commentary on the Changes). The Yizhuan runs to ten essays, which examine, explain, and further develop the Yijing. Confucius is traditionally credited with shaping much of the Yizhuan, and he himself used the Yijing for divination. Before his time, three main methods of reading hexagrams were in use. After casting a hexagram, the diviner would look up the matching one in the Yijing and then judge its fortune or misfortune from the hexagram statement, the line statements, and the imagery.

1. Hexagram Statement. Every hexagram has one. Words like primordial, prosperous, beneficial, and correct point to an auspicious reading.

2. Line Statements. In the Yijing, each line carries a statement that usually already signals fortune or misfortune. Terms like stingy, harsh, regret, fault, or inauspicious tip the reading toward the unfavorable.

3. Hexagram Imagery. This is the realm of what the hexagram symbolizes. The two trigrams—upper and lower—each represent things that fall into yin or yang. When yin and yang can come together, the reading is auspicious; when they can't, it's not. The things symbolized carry their own lucky or unlucky qualities as well.

Alongside these three methods, the diviner should also bring in free associations tied to the moment and place. Through such associations, interpretations vary, and the diviner can offer the seeker benevolence or wisdom as needed. The examples below illustrate each method in turn.

Line Statements. Returning to the earlier example of Confucius and Zigong casting the "Ding Gu" hexagram over Lu's campaign against Yue—why was Confucius's reading superior? Zigong took "the legs of the cauldron are broken" to mean the campaign would go badly. Nothing wrong with that—on the literal level. But the Lu army was already assembled and on the brink of marching; the arrow was fitted to the string and couldn't be held. To reopen the question of whether to fight would have shaken morale and cost precious time. The army needed momentum, a single decisive stroke. Confucius offered a different reading on the spot: the Yue people live on the water, so "broken legs" was telling them to ready plenty of boats—the cavalry and infantry wouldn't be of use. On military and political grounds, Confucius's reading was far sharper. With this hexagram, the benevolent see benevolence, the wise see wisdom, the brilliant see brilliance, and the pedant sees only the literal text. The line statement itself already spells out an inauspicious character: "The legs of the cauldron are broken; the duke's meal is spilled; the stain is conspicuous. Inauspicious." Confucius reframed that misfortune: the hexagram shows inauspiciousness as a warning and a hint—in effect auspicious, urging them to prepare properly. Zigong, of course, was also reading the line statement; so was Confucius. He just brought different associations to it.

Hexagram Statement. Recall the earlier case of Mu Jiang, the mother of Duke Cheng, who cast a hexagram to learn whether she could escape. Different readers offered different interpretations and different associations of the same statement: "Primordial, prosperous, beneficial, correct, without fault." That phrase is the statement of the Sui hexagram, and the variation lay in how it was applied. The differing interpretations reflected different states of mind. Mu Jiang was consumed by remorse and self-reproach; her spirit had collapsed. She landed on an inauspicious association, but taken on its own the statement should have been read as auspicious. The truth is, however the hexagram is read, it will prove "accurate." If she escaped and Duke Cheng showed leniency, the reading came true. If she waited for death—even by her own hand—that too is entirely possible, and equally "accurate."

Hexagram Imagery. Consider the hexagram cast for Chong'er's return to Jin. His return was not only the pivotal event of his own life but a famous moment in Chinese history. Politically and militarily, it was no small matter. To read it as inauspicious would point to dangers lurking at every turn; to read it as auspicious would reflect political necessity and the fact that power had at last made it possible (though not an overwhelming advantage). Interpreting the hexagram as strongly favorable for the return was simply a mirror of the decision-maker's political courage and military daring. Chong'er believed the favorable reading, which shows he had that courage and daring. Had he been a coward—not the Duke Wen of Jin history remembers—he might well have believed the hexagram was inauspicious. In the Zhun hexagram, the upper trigram is Kan, water and danger; the lower is Zhen, the cart. A cart meeting water and getting mired is inauspicious. That's hexagram imagery: reading the hexagram through what it symbolizes.

A good deal later, people noticed that the eight trigrams' way of categorizing the natural world wasn't quite adequate. What exactly is the relationship between mountain and earth—do they overlap? Can marsh and water be cleanly distinguished? Is a river a marsh or water? Questions like these led to the rise of the theory of the Five Elements. It divides the world into water, metal, fire, earth, and wood—a more reasonable scheme, and a step forward. The fact that metal is included shows the theory came after the Stone Age, at least into the Bronze Age. The Five Elements theory aims at simplicity, boiling all things down to five. Psychological testing, by contrast, needs a tool that covers a great many things—it aims at complexity. So the Five Elements couldn't replace the eight trigrams (though the trigrams themselves aren't complex, their language certainly is). Still, the way the Five Elements revealed productive and restraining relationships among things was persuasive—genius, even, for its time. Later generations mapped the Five Elements onto the hexagrams of the Zhouyi, mostly borrowing those productive-restraining relationships. The eight hexagrams of the Qian palace belong to metal; the Dui palace to metal; Li to fire; Zhen to wood; Xun to wood; Kan to water; Gen to earth; Kun to earth. Of the sixty-four hexagrams, each belongs to one of the Five Elements; its upper and lower trigrams each also belong to one; and each of its six lines likewise belongs to one. So each hexagram has nine aspects mapped to the Five Elements (with more aspects to come below), and fortune or misfortune is read through productive and restraining cycles. That's another method of interpretation. The work was completed by Dong Zhongshu in the Western Han. The Concise Compilation of Chinese General History says: "Dong Zhongshu used yin-yang and the Five Elements to deduce calamities and prodigies and to foresee fortune and misfortune."

Still in the Western Han, the Confucian scholar Jing Fang added at least five more categories to each hexagram and each of its six lines.

1. The Six Relations and Their Interactions. Parents restrain Children; Children restrain Official-Ghost; Official-Ghost restrains Siblings; Siblings restrain Wife-Wealth; Wife-Wealth restrains Parents. "Siblings," for instance, are deities that plunder wealth and restrain Wife-Wealth: in ancient times, when a family divided its property, a portion had to go to the brothers, so the brothers plundered wealth. A wife, moreover, could be regarded as a form of property.

2. The Six Beasts: Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Dark Warrior, Gou Chen, Flying Snake, Vermilion Bird. When a line meets one of them, there's fortune or misfortune—for instance, meeting the Vermilion Bird signals quarrels and litigation, which is unfavorable.

3. Self and Other (Shi-Ying). In each of the sixty-four hexagrams, there are two trigrams, upper and lower. If the upper trigram is Self, representing oneself and the host, then the lower trigram must be Other, representing the person or party being divined about—the guest. Self and Other each occupy a single line in their trigrams. The trigrams housing Self and Other carry Five Element productive-restraining relationships, yielding fortune or misfortune; the lines housing them do likewise. Those lines are also assigned the Six Relations (Parents, Children, and so on), which have their own productive-restraining relationships and their own fortunes and misfortunes. Even within Self and Other alone, that's already many methods yielding many kinds of fortune and misfortune.

4. Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches. Originally, stems and branches had no productive-restraining relationships and therefore no fortune or misfortune. Jing Fang distributed them among the six lines and also assigned them to the Five Elements, which gave them productive-restraining relationships and judgments of fortune or misfortune. Finding productive and restraining alone too thin, he defined a set of intermediate states between those forces and their outcomes: punishment (xing), harm (hai), clash (chong), and union (he).

5. Time of Casting. Month-establishment, month-breaking, ten-day emptiness, day-establishment, and the waxing, thriving, resting, and imprisoned phases of the four seasons. In the first month, for example, the branch yin is established and wood is in its waxing phase.

So nowadays, every time we cast a hexagram, we face a multitude of pointers for determining fortune or misfortune. The dozen or several dozen results we get this way don't agree, and once we factor in the categorization of all things—which area of life this hexagram even points to (mostly via that categorization)—we find that virtually any interpretation is possible. Read it as auspicious, and you have many reasons: the Six Relations, the line statements, and so on. Read it as inauspicious, and you have just as many: the Six Beasts, the hexagram statement, Self and Other, and so forth. With so much information, fortune and misfortune alone number in the dozens and contradict one another. You pick what serves you best—the benevolent see benevolence, the wise see wisdom.

Take Mu Jiang once more. With the hexagram statement alone, she'd already produced an interpretation that differed from everyone else's and was startling in its implications. Brought in Self and Other, the Five Elements, stems and branches, and the rest, and the hexagram could be read as "she can escape" just as easily as "she cannot." Whichever you chose, you could find support in the hexagram. Her spirit had collapsed, so she chose the reading—"she cannot escape"—that fit her state of mind.

In its original spirit, hexagram interpretation was free association and the selection of what one needed—a matter of "the Six Classics annotating me." But the Yijing is hard reading and demands considerable learning, and Jing Fang's methods—though far removed from the Yijing itself—are also highly technical. The Five Elements, stems and branches, Self and Other, and the rest are extraordinarily complicated; even once understood, they're hard to remember without long practice. So people turned to divination masters for guidance, or even to be handed directly the information they were thought to need. And there the problem shifted: the diviner had to correctly read the seeker's state of mind. Whether the hexagram proved "accurate," whether it won the seeker's recognition, came down to how precisely the diviner understood what the seeker was feeling. If you'd told Mu Jiang she could escape, she wouldn't have accepted it; she'd have thought your reading clumsy. If you'd told her she couldn't escape punishment, she'd have thought you were right. Chong'er was determined to return to Jin. If you'd told him his return would be inauspicious, he certainly wouldn't have acknowledged you as a master; he'd have had to belittle you to justify his own course.

Hence the craft of reading faces and coloring.

Some examples.

Example one. Mr. A was working away from home when a letter arrived saying his elderly father had been jailed. He hurried back to his impoverished hometown. Stepping off the vehicle, he ran into a fortune-teller and asked for a hexagram on his own. Taking in A's fashionable clothes and cultivated bearing, the fortune-teller cast the hexagram, chose the Five Elements, and found an auspicious reading: "Brother, you're in great luck..." Before he could finish, A's face soured. The fortune-teller caught the shift and smoothly changed course: "But, as the saying goes, within an inauspicious hexagram there's good news—life finding its way out of a desperate spot; within an auspicious hexagram there's hidden danger, with lethal intent concealed. Brother, you'll run into some trouble soon. Look—the stems and branches are in a punishing relationship; that's the message of the hexagram." He then unpacked the punishing relationship at some length. Naturally, the phrase "punishing relationship" won A over. The fortune-teller's turn was seamless, leaving no trace of artifice. He went on to elaborate on "finding a way out of a desperate situation; beneficial to see a great person," comforting A, winning his goodwill, and earning his fee.

Example two. A met an acquaintance, B, and shook his hand warmly. Something in the handshake prompted A to ask B for a hexagram. Among the many fortunes and misfortunes the hexagram offered, he chose the unfavorable pointers to interpret. The reason: at the moment of the handshake, A noticed B's palm was cold and damp—a sign, in psychiatry, of anxiety disorder and overactive autonomic nerves, which produce clammy palms and a troubled mind. Whatever hexagram among the sixty-four had been cast that day, it could be read as auspicious or inauspicious. But today, in this moment, he would certainly not pick the auspicious reading—he wanted B to think, "He got it right; he's truly gifted."

In fact, the Zhouyi itself speaks of reading words and watching coloring. The Xi Ci Xia Zhuan (Lower Commentary of the Great Treatise) puts it this way: "One about to betray shows shame in his words; one whose mind is in doubt branches out in his words; the words of an auspicious person are few; the words of a restless person are many; the words of one who slanders the good are evasive; the words of one who has lost his integrity are meek." Read a person by the demeanor that comes through in his speech.

The Zhouyi provided later generations with models and demonstrations, and people later summarized and systematized the craft of reading appearances, making it more practical.

The Ying Yao Pian, for instance, is regarded by some diviners as a treasured manual. It contains a passage drawn from experience in observing the divination-seeker's mind:

Upon entering, first ask his purpose; do not hesitate in your opening words. A father asking of his son desires his son's eminence; a son asking of his father worries about his father's troubles. A wife asking of her husband: if joyful, she wishes to rely on her husband's rank; if worried, she is anxious for his sake. A husband asking of his wife: either the wife has some matter, or certainly children are hard to obtain. Scholars ask of their prospects; merchants ask of recent fortunes. Repeated questions about one thing surely mean that thing is lacking; Persistent questions about causes surely contain a hidden reason within. One who comes with apparent sincerity, saying he has come because of one's fame, is a genuine customer. One who smiles and asks, "Please read my humble physiognomy"—this person is either a person of authority or a beast! Among sand and gravel, distinguish gold from stone; among the dressed and capped, separate fish from dragon. Monks and Daoists, however lofty, do not forget profit and desire. Ministers in the great halls set their will upon mountains and forests. The newly eminent hold ambitions exceedingly high; the long-beset have no great aspirations. The clever and intelligent often see their family fortunes remain cold; The thoroughly dull husband will never lack for wealth. Sharp brows and raised eyes—people who build from nothing. The ruined household, down to its last, never parts from shoes and socks; The newly risen family, just beginning, loves to flaunt gold ornaments. A dim spirit and bright brow—either a widow or an abandoned wife. Bewitching posture and seductive smile—if not a courtesan, then a favored concubine. A mouth full of "good, good, good"—long in high position. One "yes, yes, yes" after another—of lowly origin. A face marked by worry, spirit unsettled—calamity at home. Eyes darting, feigning composure—calamity born of oneself. The fond of bravery and combat often meet violent death; The timid and incompetent are frequently bullied. Great ambition, little talent—a life of empty sighs and regrets. Talent lopsided, temperament rigid—short of great disaster, will end in poverty. In great commercial cities, people compete in commerce and industry; In poor, remote villages, they contend for fields and forests. In an age of order, literary talent is esteemed; In an age of chaos, heroes rise from the marshes.

Alongside the Ying Yao Pian, the Xuan Guan also examines the mind of the divination-seeker. Both are excellent material in social psychology.

By present-day standards, divination counts as superstition, ignorance, and trickery, while psychological counseling can be classed as science. As discussed above, Zhouyi divination also counts as psychological testing. The Zhouyi itself is by no means superstition or trickery; on the contrary, it holds an important place in the history of Chinese civilization. It uses the same method of free association found in modern psychological testing, and it expounds the way of sages and worthies. To dogmatize the Zhouyi is superstition, but that's not the Zhouyi's fault. Originally, Zhouyi divination is a matter of psychological reflection and psychological testing—something subjective. Fortune and misfortune are one's own understanding and one's own feeling. Take Zhu Yuanzhang's sense of fortune and misfortune. People act under the guidance of their psychology; once you know someone's psychology, you should be able to predict what they'll do. Zhu Yuanzhang went off to join the army; Mu Jiang sat and waited for her fate; Chong'er pressed boldly forward to return to Jin.

Zhouyi divination, in essence, is psychological testing and psychological counseling.

For instance, Confucius steadied the State of Lu's resolve to launch a punitive campaign against Yue, lifting the troops' morale; Situ Jizi's auspicious reading for Chong'er (Duke Wen of Jin) likewise firmed up Chong'er's determination. They served as counselors of the mind. In fact, many accomplished diviners today knowingly take on this same role.

Take this example. One day a middle-aged man came in for a reading. He had barely settled into his seat when the diviner waved off any casting of hexagrams and said, "Friend, don't speak. You don't need to cast hexagrams—just listen to me first. You're talented and hardworking, and you've already built a modest career. But this isn't your peak. There's room to grow, so keep at it. At the same time, hold your family steady; don't let trouble start at home. If your family runs into trouble while you're building your career, it'll drain your energy, damage your reputation, make you the talk of the town, and hurt your future." After just those few words, the man pulled out ten yuan, set it down in front of the diviner, said "Thank you, uncle," and left.

Whether or not the casting is done is simply a matter of choosing to use the tool. Chinese people believe hexagrams carry heaven's will, but that's ultimately subjective. The visitor was in his thirties or forties, had come by taxi, and wore fashionable, neat clothing. One could conclude he was a person of modest accomplishment: he hadn't taken the bus, he'd taken a taxi. But he had no car of his own, no attendant, and no mobile phone—then the mark of status—so he wasn't someone with great achievements or a powerful family behind him. He'd made his own way to where he was, and his current standing was probably well below what his talent and effort deserved. A person of this age and station should have his drive encouraged, his hard work affirmed—surely that's no bad thing. And people at this age and stage are most prone to family trouble: they married a loyal wife through their lean early years, and now that they've made something of themselves, they feel it's time for a change; if they don't act, it'll be too late. By Chinese tradition, urging family harmony is also the right thing to do. We can't say this "diviner" was cheating people into working hard and holding their families together. A psychological counselor might give exactly the same advice, never the reverse—telling them to slack off and chase after any lover they can find.

When a diviner affirms the seeker's hard struggle, it's almost an act of grace—a knowing of one's worth, what the Chinese call 知遇之恩—and it strikes the seeker right at his emotional core. Had the diviner kept talking, drawing him back through his difficult early days, his years of struggle, even the humiliation of his youth when he couldn't afford tuition and was afraid to walk into the classroom, the man might well have wept. That's why the diviner addressed him as "brother," while the man replied "thank you, uncle" rather than "thank you, brother." Here, the seeker is a man of accomplishment, not some superstitious fool; the diviner is no fraud but a social worker, a counselor of the mind.

Every accomplished diviner should consciously serve as a socially responsible counselor. The hexagrams are just the tools of your trade.

Although Wu Dajue's practice rested on physiognomy (bone reading) rather than the I Ching, his renown didn't come from knowing more about human bones but from his psychological counsel. His words apply equally to I Ching divination. He said: "Some people are very rich, but the rich aren't necessarily sound of mind. When you read their bones, you should counsel them that wealth and position must not lead to debauchery; they should be charitable and do more good for the poor. Otherwise, in time their fortune and rank will slip away. Some people come into a little money and lose all sense—acting recklessly, taking foolish risks—and the end is bound to be bad."

"For the destitute and downcast, if you see they have a kind heart, guide them more. Tell them opportunities to rise will come; urge them to seize them, change their circumstances, look to the light, and rebuild their confidence."

"For those in office, counsel them to govern with the people's welfare in mind, to act justly and fairly—otherwise they will lose their power in time. Officials fear losing power most, so a reminder of this can sharpen their sense of purpose and keep them honest."

"When you meet a soldier, read his courage and his lifespan; tell him his fate lies with heaven and he should fight the enemy bravely, never flee the field."

"When a merchant comes for a reading, speak of the relationship between fate and wealth: a gentleman loves money but earns it rightly—small profits, quick turnover, sound credit. Expose his weakness for profit at any cost, and steer him away from the road of 'man dies for wealth, bird dies for food.'"

……

"We can't save society, but within our reach we should still find ways to do a little more good."

People consult divination for many reasons. The reader should offer guidance suited to the person before them.

In his book Psychology of Life Prediction, Mr. Zhaoyu outlines some principles:

• For seekers with weak will and fragile spirit, highlight the favorable, lift their mood, bolster their courage, and shore up their confidence. These are mostly people already at a disadvantage in life, burdened with misfortune. To pile on by stressing the unfavorable would be deeply unfitting—it would rob them of the will to live and any taste of life's pleasures.
• For officials, beyond conveying information about their career, you should chiefly analyze the causes of their rise or fall, so they grasp the difficulty of official life and the treachery of bureaucratic waters. Stress that goodness yields good fortune, and urge them to bring real benefit to the people in their time in office.
• For people in commerce, they tend to fixate on profit, commit to a course without looking back, and relish risk. For those just starting out, show them the favorable; for those already successful, point to what warrants caution.
• For those with antisocial minds or behavior, lay heavy stress on the ominous, put misfortune plainly before them, and so restrain their hearts and check their wrongdoing. For the auspicious, keep it vague—speak of it sparingly, and dwell instead on the principle that goodness yields good fortune.

Although psychological counseling isn't yet fully mature, it has begun to take shape as a discipline. Now that we've recognized the psychological essence of I Ching divination, we should consciously learn the techniques of counseling. We're simply borrowing the I Ching as a tool, the way one might borrow the Rorschach inkblots or Jung's word lists. In China, by cultural habit, the I Ching reaches people more readily than Rorschach ever could.

I Ching References

1. Aronson (USA), Introduction to Social Psychology, trans. Zheng Richang, Masses Publishing House, 1st ed., 1985
2. Jung (Switzerland), Practice and Theory of Analytical Psychology, trans. Cheng Qiong, SDX Joint Publishing Company, 1991
3. Rorschach (Switzerland), Psychodiagnostics, trans. Yuan Jun, Zhejiang Education Publishing House, 1st ed., 1997
4. Freud (Austria), Introductory Lectures on Psychoanalysis, trans. Gao Juefu, Commercial Press, 1st ed., 1984
5. Zhaoyu, Psychology of Life Prediction, China Society Press, 1st ed., 1997
6. Li Xintian, Medical Psychology, People's Medical Publishing House, 1st ed., 1991
7. Shao Weihua, I Ching and Prediction Studies, Huashan Literature and Art Publishing House, 1st ed., 1990
8. I Ching, Religious Culture Press, 1st ed., 1998