Clarity’s recent member survey (still open here if you missed it) is teaching me a lot about who I’m writing for, how to help, what to improve, and so on – thank you for taking it!
Still, I think my favourite part, the question I’m most glad to have asked, is about why people cherish their relationship with Yi. I’ve been reading and re-reading the responses to that one, enjoying individual stories and the things we have in common. So here’s a post about what we have in common…
“It is like a close friend”
That’s the prevailing theme throughout the responses. I don’t think anyone described Yi as a ‘tool’, or a device, or a means to an end. Instead…
“Yi has been a steady friend to me, and guided me safely. patiently and lovingly through many a challenging situation.”
“I love the feeling of having a wise and honest companion spirit.”
“Having a most qualified sparring partner to discuss the dynamics of a given situation.”
“I have always regarded the Yi as my friend in all the 60-odd years I’ve consulted it.”>
(Yes, ‘60-odd years’ – and this response wasn’t unique. One of my questions was about how long you’ve been consulting, from ‘less than a year’ to ‘more than ten years’ – I should have asked about longer timespans!)
It’s direct and personal
This is something I often notice when I’m reading for other people, too: yes, there’s wise guidance and rare insight and ‘aha’ moments, but often what moves people most deeply is the sense of being recognised. The Yi answers our question, and speaks directly to the person behind the question. It’s good to be seen by a fellow-human, and something else altogether to be seen by an oracle.
“Sometimes just the sense that the universe is actually listening to my questions, when the answers seem particularly relevant even if not what I was hoping for.”
“I’m amazed by how the answers always feel like direct responses to my query, as if I’m having a conversation with a wise friend.”
“It feels so personal; my reading is meant for just me.”
Exactly. We probably all have examples of responses that jumped off the page at us, sparking a wry grin or outright laughter or tears or just that familiar sense of being slapped with a wet haddock. And it’s not always possible to communicate to someone else quite why it felt that way: the oracle’s talking to you, and how it does it isn’t always translatable.
So how does it do it? With imagery. Anyone can advise you not to be too patient, but only Yi can tell you you’re waiting in a bog; any number of books talk about stress and pressure, but you can feel the ridgepole flexing. And, of course, there’s imagery – poetry – that doesn’t map neatly onto rational advice at all, can’t be reduced to it, and speaks straight to the soul in ways we will never understand.
“The way the imagery can surprise and ambush my rational brain and get into the cellar door of my subconscious.”
“Yi is always there”
“I find that it offers a non-judgemental space and words of advice regarding the issue that is bothering me. It is there, at any time of the day or night, like a very wise and permanently available being, always willing to offer guidance or at least salve some of my concern and offers a small respite in which I can relax and gain some perspective.”
“Knowing that there is always “someone” listening. Knowing that I can ask any question, even (or most of all) the ones I’m not too proud of.”
There’s no time we can’t consult and no question we can’t ask. Still obsessing about the thing at three in the morning? Not a problem. You can’t break the oracle. (No-one has in the past 3,000 years; you probably won’t be the first.)
This is not, of course, a promise that we will like the answer…
Its personality
“Yi’s kindness, wisdom, wit and humour. “
Again – exactly! How many tomes of spiritual advice regularly make you laugh out loud?
“He’s an old and warmhearted sage, who doesn’t judge me but also doesn’t care about my primary feelings.”
I thought that put it particularly well: being met with kindness, without judgement, but also absolute honesty. Quite a lot of people mentioned getting the answer they needed, not the one they wanted; absolutely nobody used the words ‘polite’ or ‘tactful’.
“I appreciate the sincere and honest feedback”
“I can always depend on an honest answer.”
“Honesty, trust, and insight.”
“No emotional mush-mash”
“Yi’s answers require me to stop fantasizing and get realistic to understand them. “
“Getting encouraged when I need it and slapped back to my senses when I need it.”
That’s a leitmotif woven throughout the responses: honesty.
The difference it makes
Obviously, we value the oracle because its advice and insights make our lives better: I get to understand people better and do slightly fewer stupid things, and I appreciate it. This respondent’s experience seems very close to mine:
“It has helped me broaden my repertoire of actions, gotten me out of defaulting to usual habitual patterns, and thus enriched my life experience.”
Yet oddly, this is one area where people’s experiences differ a great deal. Compare this…
“Rarely is it suggested what to do or not do in relation to my question. Usually I find out why I asked the question, realizing another question within it. The conversation is a quiet time worth spending, not so much to receive as to participate in an exchange. A wonderful experience always.”
… with the first two points this person made…
“Well, first, it invariably issues accurate predictions. Second, I have often used it to cut through tangential issues and get straight to the crux of the matter (in a very 30.6 way) when I need help or support making a decision.”
No two people meet quite the same oracle, I think. Every now and then, I’ll encounter someone who is quite sure that the Yi has a distinct guiding philosophy, because the tenor of all their readings bears this out. The Yi always encourages Daoist inaction… or teaches patience… or instills decisiveness and the will to act. As many, many people said, we receive the answers we need (and not particularly the ones we want), and our needs are not the same!
‘It helps me be more confident’
Here’s a theme I hadn’t expected. A common objection to divination is that it takes away our agency, makes us dependent on an oracle to tell us what to do. That is a potential problem – the ‘is it OK to go out and buy milk?’ reading, or – much worse – not following a heartfelt desire ‘because the oracle said not to.’ (You don’t need Yi’s permission!)
But the theme that emerged told exactly the opposite story: the oracle doesn’t tell you what to do (which can be quite annoying of it). Instead –
“It helps me to be more confident in my life.”
“It tends to validate my own intuition about a situation, which gives me more confidence to make decisions.”
And the person who mentioned predictions first, and decision help second, continued:
“Third, I often use Yi to reality check my intuitions, to help discern when they really ARE intuition versus anxious or hopeful visions.”
I think over time this has an incremental effect: we can learn the difference between real intuitions and hopes/anxieties. And in the same way, Yi’s teaching me to be more discriminating about my own motivations. A perennial puzzle for me: if I don’t take the risk, am I being a) a rational adult or b) cowardly? So I ask, ‘What am I really doing, if I take this path?’ – and get to know myself better. The Yi isn’t replacing intuition or self-knowledge: it’s teaching them.
And beyond all that…
As I was saying, it’s not just the advice or the insight, or the mentoring or even the friendship: it’s the realisation of what is really happening when we divine, and what this means.
If you drop a coin, it falls: we live in a universe with a law of gravity. If you drop three coins, six times, an oracle speaks to you. What kind of universe is this where that happens?
“It makes me feel like ‘the universe’ or something out there cares and is willing to help me make wiser choices, or just understand my life better.”
“It gives me an intimate feeling of being deeply understood and guided by a wise and loving friend. It makes me feel I am swimming in a sea of meaning and that I am not alone.”
The Yi advises us as a parent. It reveals true conditions we may not want to admit, and helps us decide on what we truly seek. As Arnold Rothstein said about making decisions, when the coin is in the air you’ll know what side you want. I am a special case, devoted to the Yi religiously. I cherish the words and the Gua, and wisdom of their association.