Is Crying a Sign of Weakness? Li Hexagram Six in Fifth Place: Shedding Tears in Floods, Sighing in Sorrow — Good Fortune

There was a man in his forties who cried once in his car. The Six in the Fifth Place of Li (The Clinging Fire) says this bout of crying is auspicious.

That day, he had just signed a failed settlement agreement. After signing, he drove to the downstairs of his apartment building, didn’t go up, and just sat in the car.

He said he didn’t know why, but suddenly tears started flowing and wouldn’t stop. He cried for about ten minutes.

After crying, he wiped his face, went upstairs, checked his child’s homework, exchanged a few words with his wife, and went to bed.

The next day, he told me that after that day, something inside him seemed to loosen up.

The Six in the Fifth Place of Li is exactly about these ten minutes.

The line text has nine characters: "出涕沱若，戚嗟若，吉。" (Tears flow in torrents, grief and sighing follow — good fortune.)

Ti (tears) means tears, and tuo ruo means like pouring rain. Qi jie ruo means sighing with worry and sorrow.

Tears streaming down like rain, sighing as they fall. The judgment of the line text is: good fortune.

Put simply, the Six in the Fifth Place of Li speaks of a truth many people are unwilling to admit: allowing yourself to be sad is the beginning of recovery.

Why "Crying" Brings "Good Fortune"

The fifth line is the ruler’s position in the Li Hexagram: a Yin Line occupies a Yang position, gentle and holding the central place.

This position is very special: it is the highest position in the entire hexagram, yet it is held by a soft line.

What does it feel like when softness sits in a high position?

It’s pressure, isolation, and the feeling of "I can’t fall apart."

Yet what the line text tells it to do is precisely to let go for a moment: cry it out, sigh it out.

The Xiang Commentary says: "The good fortune of the Six in the Fifth Place comes from clinging to the position of the prince and duke." It does not force itself to hold on; it acknowledges that it needs support.

The wisdom of this line is: true stability is not never breaking down, but being able to come back after breaking down.

Holding It In Wears You Out More Than Crying

This point is worth spelling out clearly.

Emotions don’t disappear just because you suppress them. They just move somewhere else.

First, they shift to the body. You can’t sleep well, can’t eat well, and always feel tired. This isn’t an illness; it’s emotions with no outlet.

Second, they shift to your temper. Someone who’s usually calm suddenly snaps over a tiny thing. The anger isn’t about that small thing; it’s built up.

Third, they shift to your judgment. When people are bottling things up, their decisions tend to be either overly conservative or overly impulsive. Neither is right.

There’s a reason the Six in the Fifth Place of Li puts "letting tears flow" first: only when you let it out do you return to a normal state.

Decisions made in a normal state are the reliable ones.

Why Adults Dare Not Cry in Real Life

The first reason is identity.

You’re a boss, a father, the backbone of the family. None of these roles include "crying" as an option.

The second reason is setting.

You can’t cry at work, can’t cry in front of your kids, and definitely can’t cry in front of your parents. Look as you might, there’s nowhere to cry.

The third reason is habit.

After holding it in for so many years, you’ve forgotten how. When you feel like crying, your eyes stay dry.

All three of these come at a cost.

Wen Laoshi once said something very down-to-earth: People aren’t made of iron. The breath you force yourself to hold by gritting your teeth will leak out somewhere else sooner or later.

How to Give Yourself an Outlet in Real Life

First, find one steady person to talk to.

You don’t need many — just one is enough. This person doesn’t need to give you advice; they just need to listen. When you can say "I can’t hold on anymore" in front of them, half the weight lifts the moment you say it.

Second, set aside a fixed time.

Set aside two hours every week to do nothing. This isn’t rest — it’s emptying your mind. A lot of people don’t lack time; they’re just afraid to stop.

Third, allow yourself to have a "low-efficiency period."

After a breakdown, people go through a stretch where they can’t summon much energy. This is normal. Don’t force yourself to bounce back immediately, and don’t put yourself down for this low-efficiency phase.

Fourth, say it out loud instead of just thinking it in your head.

Thinking something a thousand times in your head isn’t as good as saying it once to someone. Only when you say it out loud is it truly behind you.

A Note on Boundaries

What we’re talking about here is emotions, not physical health.

If you have persistent physical discomfort, go see a doctor and get checked out as you should. Emotional matters can be adjusted on your own, but physical matters should be left to professionals.

This line is about mental and emotional strength; physical issues are not what it addresses.

Final Thoughts

The Six in the Fifth Place of Li is the line that feels least like the I Ching among all 64 Hexagrams.

It doesn’t talk about how to win, or how to get things done. It talks about a person crying.

After crying, the line text says: good fortune.

Because someone who can cry is still alive. Someone who forces themselves not to cry may look steady on the outside, but they’re already cracking on the inside.

Wen Laoshi once said: People who can still cry still have hope; it’s the people who can’t cry you need to worry about.

出涕沱若，戚嗟若，吉。(Tears flow in torrents, grief and sighing follow — good fortune.)

Tears are not weakness. Tears are proof that you’re still willing to admit you’re human.