Without change from the emerging life force, our own inner changes are smaller, more gradual; when the life force is in an active phase we are moved more quickly, more actively.

The warrior does not give up when there is a need for retreat, he is firm, alert, and not indulgent; then he is ready for advance when conditions permit.

The life energy acts of itself in our dissolution as a separate whole, so how can this be furthered by our taking a hand? It is a trick of mind reality to lend a hand here, the outcome of which can only be the perpetuation of mind in the identified form.

Under the bed is the unconscious drive where identity is trying to lend a hand, in here our identifications are lost (valuables and axe) but we do not lose our separateness; instead of going through a cycle by letting it change us we seek its source, return to the womb.

This tao is about being in the flow and not manipulating it. Here the life force ebbs and this is not our doing, so if we just continue to be, the flow will come back.

By remaining alert amongst small activity we will not only see its first signs of regrowth but also experience awareness with no objective. This change in experience is itself progress although we cannot conceive it until it happens.

Our intuitive feeling of the life force diminishes while we are attached to progress outside in the world. In this tao outer activity is stilled (in trigram Kên) so looking for activity here is disappointing.

The grandmother symbolizes an old generation of feeling, past feeling, and past feeling coming into the present is emotion; so as we feel less of our present circumstances, past feelings find their release; they needed release so this is a blessing.

We normally make activity in order to control our circumstances; here we do not do this but trust in the tao of progress itself.

To live without manipulating requires giving up our hoping; we can only regret if we have been hoping for something.

The progress of being in the flow is towards balancing the inner and the outer; if we keep returning to our outer reality for a sense of realness we repeat habit tracks.

The rodents have typically quick, darting movements, running for cover, and here it is as though we were using the outer reality as safe cover. We feel unsafe when we cannot distinguish and identify our circumstances but the greater danger lies in our being trapped in distinguished reality as the only way of being that we can recognize.

In this tao progress is toward the balance of inner and outer (the non-defined and the defined), so in this moving line we are following the tao as we become less involved in identifying our feelings—we still feel but our mind does not take over the feeling.

The choice between gain and loss is something we experience by going out from our centre into definition; without this there is no regret, no hope to be dashed. When we act in the movement of the moment everything is furthered, not just that which would lead to a particular outcome.

In this tao the inner being holds back from identifying itself, but here it does accept responsibility for its circumstances, which has dangers in a tao of not having particular identification.

To move out of the centre to any identified state involves regret, but to deal with identified parts of our being, a stance is necessary—it is necessary and so correct and it is also dangerous in case we lose the centre again.

Here the source is changing towards active manifestation; if we wait peacefully it will reach the outside in time. It is the source that carries our activities.

Regret disappears because activity (the horse which carries identity) returns of its own accord. The evil company is the narrow frame of mind which demands that it gets what it wants, and now, but we do not tangle with that, we let the tao unfold.

When we feel the life force in this tao we feel opposition, the narrowness of a single-minded point of view. To become aware of such a situation within ourselves is not a mistake, but it is uncomfortable.

We come to realize something quite suddenly and cannot escape from it, there is nowhere to go (our lord is the one we must follow). We meet him coming the other way but it is good to see truth when, or particularly when, it is going the opposite way to the one we are facing.

Our present outer activity comes to the end of its energy and our attempts to proceed appear to be opposed.

The good end comes because we give up futile effort and allow the tao. The trouble comes because we were insufficiently aware.

Here we accept the outer world as our way of being. Participation is symbiotic relationship instead of opposition and this is no error; it does carry the danger of forgetting the tao and entering a narrow reality.

Here is a very inner act but it is occurring in our conscious identity. Our interest in the silence of intuitive feeling has been to enliven it, not to accept it, because no other activity was available. Now we cease this and so trust the life force even though it is not doing what identity wanted—it is a change in mind, a change of mind.

The one with whom he relates innerly is the “companion” (see section 1, page 2) but in outer life this may work through others. When the outer identity and the inner companion are not separated there is certainty and no question of error.

In this tao the emerging life force is unchanging (line 1 is yang) and we have felt opposed to this. We now see things differently.

The pig is nourishment but obscured by mud (confusion); the waggon-load of phantoms are frightening appearances. By ceasing to oppose we become unopposed, for the opposition in this tao is a misunderstanding of our situation which causes us to fear it.