What to Do When Faced with Choices? Insights into the Ancient Chinese Way of Thinking from a Divination-based Travel Decision

A while back, a friend messaged me in the middle of the night, saying he wanted to go on a trip the next week but was worried things might go wrong along the way, and he was so torn about it that he was losing sleep. I asked him to give me a specific time, then cast a hexagram: the original hexagram was *Pi* (Standstill, Heaven over Earth), with the first line changing, resulting in *Wu Wang* (Innocence, Heaven over Thunder).

Don’t be quick to write this off as some mystical nonsense—it’s actually an ancient decision-making model. Think about it: when you’re faced with a choice, the worst things you can do are make a snap decision out of impulse, or dither and do nothing out of fear of every possible risk. The ancient method was to break things down into "ti" (the core self) and "yong" (the external context). Once you sort out both sides clearly, the answer naturally emerges.

In this hexagram, the upper trigram Qian (Heaven) is the *ti*, representing the person traveling; the lower trigram Kun (Earth) is the *yong*, representing the journey itself. The *Pi* hexagram means lack of connection between upper and lower—put in modern terms, the start of the trip will be a bit bumpy. Haven’t you been in situations like this: dragging your feet while packing before leaving, barely making it to the station on time, hitting a traffic jam right after getting on the highway? That’s the energy of the *Pi* hexagram—things always feel a bit off at the beginning.

But don’t worry—the changing line is the first (sixth) line, and its line statement says: "Pull up the thatch, and it comes up with its roots and clump." What does that mean? When you pull thatch, you have to yank it out by the roots, soil and all—so your pre-trip preparations need to be thorough too. A lot of people ask how to fix bad luck? Well, it’s rarely about luck at all—it’s that they didn’t prepare well enough and rushed out the door in a panic. No wonder things go wrong.

Then look at the middle mutual hexagram, which is *Guan* (View, Wind over Earth). *Guan* means to look and observe more, don’t be reckless. On a trip, don’t rush from one scenic spot to the next like you’re chasing KPIs. Leave some time to wander slowly, and you might stumble on unexpected surprises. This is essentially teaching you how to read the situation—when things don’t go as planned, don’t immediately start complaining. Stop and look around, and maybe another path will be more interesting.

Finally, the resulting hexagram is *Wu Wang* (Innocence, Heaven over Thunder). The meaning of *Wu Wang* is straightforward: don’t mess around unnecessarily. If you stick to your plan and follow the rules, there won’t be any big problems. The worst thing is hearing someone say some place is fun mid-trip and changing your itinerary on a whim—turning a perfectly smooth trip into an exhausting race around.

From the perspective of the five elements, Kun (Earth) nourishes Qian (Metal), so this trip is fundamentally nurturing—you’ll come back in a good mood and with a broader perspective, making it well worth the while. There might be small hiccups along the way, like crowded scenic spots or long lines at restaurants, but those are minor annoyances that won’t affect the overall outcome. In the later stages, you’ll be able to take control of the pace instead of being pushed around by events.

I gave my friend a few tips: pack three days in advance, and make sure all transportation connections and ticket reservations are confirmed; don’t cram your schedule too full, leave two hours of free time every day; don’t change routes on a whim, stick to the plan; if you really run into trouble, ask staff or older people for help—chances are they’ll be able to sort it out.

Half a month later, he came back and told me that sure enough, there was a half-hour traffic jam on the morning of his departure, but luckily he’d left early. There was a super popular shop with a ridiculously long line, so he popped into a small restaurant next door instead, and the food was surprisingly good. He followed the plan the whole time, and even though there were a few small snags at the start, things got smoother and smoother as the trip went on, and he had a really great time.

You see, the wisdom of the ancients was never about giving you a definitive answer—it’s about helping you sort out the direction of things. It doesn’t make decisions for you; it just tells you where you’re likely to hit pitfalls, and where you can draw on advantages. As for whether to go or not, the final call is always yours—after all, you walk your own path, and a hexagram is just a navigation tool.