Reflections on the I Ching [4]

Hexagram 52 ; Keeping Still [The Mountain]

Hexagram 52 consists of a repetition of the trigram for mountain. It is a call to maintain stillness of the body. Afterwards, the mind will also become still.

The reading not a direct command to action; ‘keeping his back still, he no longer feels his body’, but in doing so ‘he may enter the courtyard, but he sees not his people’.

The interpretation clarifies what appears to be a contradiction:

In this instance, the whole hexagram should be considered. The lines are read from bottom to top, attention paid to the centre where the trigrams meet — as with any meeting point, like a crossroads, it can be one of danger.

The last of these posts I uploaded was in Dec 2023. A crisis involving my mother took me away to spend time with my parents. My father was ageing, but well. We spent what I knew was quality time. Time that was in short supply.

During the year, I made more trips. My parents health was failing and there were frequent trips to hospitals. Our last big visit was for my father’s 92nd birthday. It was good, but his overall health had declined noticeable in the last three months or so. We departed with a hug, a shadow of what was his solid build. His cancer was wasting him away. There was only chronic pain now. He was still, but not in a good way. He now lacked mobility and was almost confined to a chair. There he rested, ate meals and slept.

On Christmas Day, the call came from my sister. Dad had lapsed into a delirium. He was not aware of where he was and even the people around him. He was moved to a room reserved for palliative care. He had reached the end of a long, fulfilling journey. One that took him across the world to start anew. Two generations of children later, he was now ‘Poppy’. He had his own home and farm and a lifetime of stories to tell. Even retired, his skill as a welder and metal-worker were still in demand and appreciated.

I told my daughters; ‘He’s just worn out his body’. There was not much else to do but to wait for the inevitable to occur. Unlike earlier, when action was needed and could make a difference, this time called for reflection and quiet. Stillness.

As Dad lies in a hospital bed. He’s slipping away, each day is a glimpse of his mortality receding. We visit every day, but apart from a good day when he was able to talk, it is sadness.

Hold yourself still. Sit still. Refrain from unnecessary talk. There is danger, the time you are still is time that the overwhelming sense of suffocation takes over. Am I missing his last minute? When will the call come? He deserves an ending that is free of pain and distress. But stillness is all we have now. We wait. Silent.

Images and IP remain with copyright owners; Thomas Griesbeck [top & bottom of page] ( https://unsplash.com/@jack_scorner ) // Laszlo Andras [centre] ( https://unsplash.com/@tulacsucson ) //
Jamie Hagan [Trigram 1–2] ( https://unsplash.com/@dearjamie )

Quote from last image: Tao Te Ching; Chapter 16