Here the rigidity itself is loosening, we are starting to feel the life force again and this is the beginning of new feeling.

The old finds a way to flow again, and it was the lack of flow that caused the excess of pressure.

What we are accepting here in this moving line is the inactivity of our outer world, so there is less stress because we are not struggling with our rigidity. This does not change the rigidity but makes it more manageable and may mask the basic problem.

Reliance on masking the stresses we have would be a weak support.

Becoming aware of intuitive feeling that is inactive is to be more aware but not to have more feeling.

This is widening awareness, opening up, flowering; then old feeling (from memory) comes to thought, to consciousness. These do not change things, the flowering does not change the tree and the old woman cannot have children, in other words there is no new growth.

Here we give up the struggle and become unaware of the activity pushing us towards change. When we become unaware of forces they overtake us.

To give way to the flow is no error, only uncomfortable; it overcomes the rigidity and so changes us.

It is easier for us as identified beings to respond to the active phases of the life force, and this is especially true in this tao where our attention is on the inner being. Joy comes naturally at this time because there is activity outside for us to identify amongst.

The life force becomes active and so supports our acting outwards. The inner being (line 6) accepts the life force and so we are centred and complete innerly so we act out without doubt.

Feeling the potential of the life force brings just that bubbling joy that knows that the outer form will be appropriate, so we are in harmony with it. This is spontaneous and unidentified feeling so it does not interfere with the flow of the tao.

Here we are not allowing the spontaneous flow of the tao into outer activity, because of hopes, fears, and so forth, we are holding activity for the future and the energy of joy is converted into that of worry. This is an internal and repetitive flow instead of a flow through identity and it blocks our receptiveness to the life force, this can only enter where there is an emptiness to receive it.

Joy cannot be in the future, it is existential or it is not at all. It cannot be planned, hunted and found, for then we have no room to receive it.

In this tao it is vital to the flow that outer activity is spontaneous, so when we try to distinguish, plan, and manipulate our environment, the joy is lost and planning takes its place.

Intuitive feeling is inactive in this tao. To become involved in this inactivity, whether it be to identify with it or to question it, stops the flow of the tao. It is always true that even to observe we stop the flow.

The existential moment is always fresh; the happenings in it then disintegrate, as they have to as it is a flow of change, so if we attach ourselves to these happenings we cannot have joy in the existential moment.

When the emerging life force is inactive (line 1) we tend to seek stimulation from the outer world; we miss the resonance between the inner and the outer when we do this, we own instead of taking part.

It is the deep emerging life force that is showing activity, so it is not yet time for us to manifest this—that will come in due course. Having deep knowing that this activity is there helps us to restrain our impatience for action, and holding this like a secret love in our heart is part of the richness of this tao.

The dragon is an ominous symbol, it is a dynamic expression of the life energy which, here, is still hidden from conscious manifestation.

Here, activity begins to show in our feelings, which are our earliest manifestation of the life force, but we need to avoid narrowing this down to action too soon; keep it open and feel, for this is the tao of creation itself and if we do not interpose with our own pattern, we are privileged to know ourselves as part of the inevitable. In practice, we keep our options open.

The life energy is in the open because it is manifesting in our feeling and it benefits us to experience this widely; to see the great man is to attend to our greater awareness. In terms of the oracle greatness is always wideness, including more—it is not power.

In the tao of the creative there is great power and when this comes to manifestation, we may feel overburdened by it if we think it is we who are doing it. This only brings on unnecessary worry, but if we remember that taking part is not taking possession, there is no danger in this line.

The day symbolizes the activity in the world and the night a withdrawal of activity to the inner. The superior man is the one who follows the tao, and the danger to him (to our following the tao) is over-involvement, yet we have to be involved. There is no dividing line here to observe, hence the danger.

Here we interest ourselves in the inactivity of line 3 and we may be tempted to be intentionally inactive, but this is _doing_ and not in keeping with this tao of the creative doing itself. It is necessary to fall effortlessly into the activity of the creative, which is neither being active nor withholding activity.

The chasm is this void that happens when we discount ourselves, trying not to _do_. Here we hesitate to relax because we feel the need to control even our inactivity. Identity feels threatened by not _doing_ and this is part of its nature, not an error or failure on our part.

Here we are identifying ourselves with unchanging feeling (line 2). We have difficulty in identifying with the non-active as there seems to be nothing there.

Dragons are the flow of earth energy—things we normally identify with—and here our identifications are out of place unless heaven itself (Ch’ien) can be felt.

To accept ourselves as the life force and tao is to confuse ourselves with the whole—in the tao of the creative we then think we are the creators.

It is particularly contrary to this tao for us to take charge of things. We are then deprived of the experience of the creative itself; we only experience ourselves.