To follow the life force we need to feel it. Here we are feeling it less and we lack experience of it.

The boy is youth seeking identification and self-experience while the mature man does not need this. That we need it now shows that an inexperienced aspect is active in us and we should allow this experience while witnessing it with our mature aspect if we can. To follow it without witnessing becomes an indulgence.

Here identity is following outer activity and when we do this we do it for purposes, to obtain something we have identified.

Having purposes in the world is to get it to follow us, which is narrowing (evil), but if we constantly follow our circumstances as we see them we learn about the narrowness, and this is no error.

When there is no activity from the inner (whole) reality and we are wandering because we are, for now, ignoring the nature of the whole, our wanderings become random, our interest is in the illusion of movement and we do not find here the sense of realness we seek.

We can experience the illusion without being entangled, without believing it to be totally real. Nothing is totally real except the whole, and by its nature identity cannot experience this as part of the smallness. The misfortune is losing touch with the whole.

A feeling of unreality gives rise to the idea that circumstances are unsatisfactory and this drives the wanderer on. In this moving line this feeling becomes less active so we can rest a while in ordinary circumstances—these appear to be real again and support identity.

An inn is a place for a temporary stay while wandering, and any wanderer’s valuables are his beliefs and principles; so we have settled into our reality and are not searching at the moment. We are helped in this by loyal feeling, a sense of realness that does not desert us; feeling is the servant of identity, providing what it needs to identify amongst; here it is tranquil (yang).

With an increase in outer activity the feeling of unreality in it all returns, as it must because the wanderer is not wandering purposelessly but to find a different sense of the real. When we lose our sense of purpose in outer activity it can no longer support our own sense of being real or justified.

The inn and the young servant are explained in line 2, which makes their context easy to see here. The feeling of danger is of insecurity, danger to feeling worthwhile.

Now we are interested in the idea of being inactive, doubting that all this wandering is a good idea, so we settle down where we are. Although we are accepting our outer reality as it is, unstimulating, this is not going to change anything, but to treat it as a rest is more real, for our wandering is not completed yet.

Innerly our valuables are the identifications we have chosen and the axe symbolizes our defence of these; so according to the image we do not change ourselves, and as joy comes only with the flow of change we feel no joy, but we have rest.

We are less in our feelings of wandering; wandering is not the important thing it was. Innerly wandering is searching for something outside ourselves that feels more satisfying, more nourishing; here we find that this is not the way, and this is itself a new direction for us.

He gains nourishment (the pheasant) and loses direction (the arrow). His direction was wandering, and exchanging this for nourishment in his present situation is the end of wandering and creates an established presence (office) and recognition (praise).

When our outer reality becomes unsatisfactory we wander. Here in this line we are accepting wandering as a way of being and this will not be fulfilling for very long because it is not just that we are in a bad place—all outer identification feels lacking.

The bird is a symbol of spirit or whole reality and its nest is where it raises its young; our being cannot raise more young (new experience) if we stay in outer identification; the new comes from the inner. At first, being out in defined reality seems clear and to be a solution, but nothing new comes and it becomes a repetition. When the inner is included in our sense of the real, new experience comes fresh each day, like the service of a cow—this we carelessly lose.

Here the life force comes to a state of rest, so activities that we are just beginning may run into difficulties as their energy peters out. If we do not push forward we may seem weak to those who do not recognize the situation but we do best to go at the pace that circumstances allow.

The wild goose approaches land and so a place to rest; renewal, however, (the son) has difficulties, young or new efforts are not supported by the life force. The lack of progress towards any completion leads to criticism but it is not our fault, it is time for gradually finishing a journey, not starting a new one.

Here our feelings become stilled by the tao and we can relax efforts towards activity. There is no need and no profit to be gained from pushing forward towards what we desire, there is enough nourishment here in our present situation to rest and renew us.

Rock is what underlies the surface and so is symbolic of underlying truth. The truth of our situation is that we can relax and enjoy what nourishment our circumstances provide—there is no need to continue the journey at present.

In a tao that has so little flow it is not an advantage to set out on new activity because it is not supported by the life energy and will not reach completion. Identity’s need for activity tempts us to move, activity is its food, but here it will lead us astray.

The goose has gone too far, its natural habitat is near water and here it approaches dry land; we identify too far into a defined world where values are fixed, dry so unflowing, so the defining element in us (the man) is projected into our circumstances and is lost there. The flowing and feeling element in us could give birth to new experience but cannot bring it forth because we identify our outer self as the source of action and ignore the womb where growth occurs “of itself”. The evil is this narrow attitude.

In this line we are less interested in holding off activity, we allow it to be what comes, so we may find that there is a way, in which case we can take advantage of it, or we may find that there is not and we must be prepared to carry on. Persisting in this mode of being we ride life, allowing it to take us on its way, and we learn lessons about our desire for security.

Geese do not live in trees; identity may visit identified places but they are not its home either. This visiting is not an error but neither is it a home-coming.

As our intuitive state is active (line 2) this recognition of it restores the flow of feeling to our conscious self.

For a goose the crest of a hill does not mean home, it is something to rise over. This images an effort and then success and the three years the woman waits for her child is a period of change, change to new feeling which allows the natural processes to complete themselves.

By accepting the tao in our inner being we give up trying to force the pace and so we become part of this phase of gradual progress. In our bodies if a part calls attention to itself it is taken as a sign that something is wrong, it is no longer part of the organic whole but has become separate. Similarly identity is part of our whole being and the being is healthy when identity is not demonstrating its separateness.

Heaven and spirituality are imaged as “above” so the heights are towards heaven or the inner whole reality, the state of wholeness. The goose (our identifying) disappears into this unmanifest reality leaving just an outer appearance, the feathers, as indicators of where it has gone.