Reflections on the I Ching [3]
Hexagram 51 ; The Arousing [Shock / Thunder]
Hexagram 51 consists of a repetition of the trigram for thunder. It represents both a shock and the call for action.
The reading is simple; ‘the shock is felt for a hundred miles’, but that it will not cause one to ‘let fall the sacred spoon and chalice’.
The interpretation is clear:
As with the interpretation for Hexagram 2 [The Abyss], the intersection of the two trigrams is one of both danger and reflection. Line 3 (from the bottom reads ‘if shock spurs one to action, one avoids misfortune’. Line 4 is fraught; ‘Shock is mired’. However, the 5th line reveals another interpretation, ‘shock moves hither and thither’, however ‘nothing is lost, Yet there are things to be done’.
Even if the crisis may seem overwhelming and can seem to take up your whole being, in the act of accepting the call and acting on it you mitigate that fallout of that crisis. Inside that action, you will also find the reason for why it is that you act the way you do. It is not just that you responded, you still need to assess what is required to meet this (and any) problem.
This post was triggered by a family crisis. On a Friday morning I had been contacted by my sister. Our mother had been admitted to hospital after a distressing medical emergency at about 3am. After speaking to our father and each other, we were still assessing just how bad this episode was. The physical issue for our mother was bad — blood loss and fainting. She had been moved to the base hospital over an hour away, so our dad was not able see her without assistance. We were spurred into action. My sister wanted to know ‘How quickly can you get a car? We need to be there tomorrow’. My turn to step up. On it.
The crisis has hit. Immediate activity in the outside word leads to a re-arrangement on the inside. How did I respond? How do I support those others? Did I make sure that my responsibilities are being met in my absence?
I had a vehicle booked and ready for collection by 11am the next day. We met and then swung out of Sydney heading north. By then the journey was simpler. Mum had been released and all we needed to do was get to her location and take her back home. Sweet. We had a four hour journey, with a stop for lunch. Paradoxically, this is the best part of the journey. The distance is the only obstacle. As I drive, we talk. About a lot of things; our parents, our children, old TV shows we watched as children, home, old friends. We don’t have anything to do, but some time to fill meaningfully.
Four hours later we collect Mum and start the drive home. It is mostly small talk as the crisis is over for now. I know that we’ll be met by Dad and there will be hugs, and the ever-present offer of a glass of wine. This trip has moved past the shock stage. For me, I now fulfil the role of son and brother. The crisis passes and I hold onto the role — my part — that helps glue our family together as it has survived and grown for over 60 years. I take a moment to call my daughters, I know my sister is doing the same; the world shrinks to a safe, familiar one.
Two days later, amongst hugs, we set out again — reversing our journey. It’s a path I have travelled many times a year for close to 35 years now. Sometime with my sister, or my partner, or my children, or or just by myself. It is time, again, to reflect on what has taken me here this time, and how I leave. And finally, at that moment when it will be the last time I do it. For now, the sky is clear.
Notes: I have used the translation of the I Ching published by Wilhelm. Images used are from a single one attributed to Raychel Sanner [ https://unsplash.com/@raychelsnr ]. The lyrics are by Donald Fagen, ‘Teahouse on the Tracks’ from the 1993 album ‘Kamakiriad’.
