A reflection on a revelation from the infinite, regarding stress and pressures in relation to the natural cycles of life, through the wisdom of the I Ching.

Last night, as I lay in bed, the pressures of my head and root centers weighed heavily on me. My thoughts raced with a longing to see tangible results from my work and training—sooner rather than later. As I build my coaching business, dream of the Rainbow Warrior Nation community, and navigate my studies in Kundalini Yoga and NLP, I can’t help but yearn for the future I envision: living as a teacher, role model, and healer, embodying a new paradigm for the world.

But here I am now, in the present, doing my best to align my ideals within the framework of modern society. My thoughts swirled with questions: Am I on the right path? Will my vision ever fully materialize? These pressures lingered even as I sought solace in sleep.

The next morning, they returned, less urgent but still present, echoing the rhythm of progress followed by pause. For months, I had seen rapid growth in my goals—momentum that seemed unstoppable. But recently, as if the fire of progress had cooled, I’ve felt a shift: a plateau, a stillness that left me questioning the path forward.

This morning, I moved through my usual routine, tempted to skip my morning practices and dive straight into work. The pressure to “do more” was unrelenting—a voice in my mind urging me to complete a pro-bono coaching report I’d promised to a fellow Manifestor.

With my coat and shoes already on, a quiet yet firm voice from within stopped me. My Spleen Authority whispered softly:

“Stay. Meditate first. What’s another 30 minutes?”

My mind wanted to resist, but in a victory to be celebrated, the body was given the right to act to its own authority.

I sat down, hesitating at first, then allowed myself to surrender. As I closed my eyes and focused on the lotus blooming at my heart chakra, the tension began to dissolve. I reminded myself: this is my time to commune with the infinite. Slowly, a wave of calm and tranquility washed over me. Emerging from meditation, I felt a sense of clarity and decided to ask Source for a sign.

I reached for my I Ching coins, the ancient tool of divination that so often speaks to me with precision and insight. With reverence, I cast the three coins, each flip revealing a piece of the unfolding message. Three broken lines appeared first—Earth, the receptive and grounding element of the material plane. As I continued, the fourth line came out fixed, unchanging. My intuition stirred. Could this be Heaven over Earth? A divine confirmation of “Heaven on Earth,” a message of harmony and connection?

The fifth line fell, a broken line—but a changing one. My anticipation grew. Could this changing line shift the message into Heaven over Earth after all? Finally, the sixth line arrived, fixed and solid. I examined the completed hexagram, and there it was: not Heaven over Earth, but Fire over Earth. My mind paused, searching for meaning in this message. With the changing line, it transformed into Heaven over Earth, but this was not the harmonious sign I had expected. Instead, the I Ching revealed a story of Progress transitioning into Stagnation.

Reflecting on Progress: Fire Over Earth

Fire Over Earth speaks of transformation and advancement. It is the hexagram of Progress, depicting a fire blazing atop the Earth, transmuting elements and bringing light to the material plane. For months, this has been my journey: rapid growth, a spreading flame of inspiration and action. In just a few months, I had ignited my coaching practice, offering over 50 reports to help others find clarity and healing. The momentum was thrilling, and I felt deeply aligned with my purpose.

But fire, though powerful, cannot burn endlessly. Its energy eventually wanes, and the flames settle. Recently, I’ve felt this shift: the energy that fueled my progress has slowed, creating space for doubt to creep in. Yet, the I Ching reminds me that true progress is not sustained by ambition alone. It requires alignment with higher principles and service.

Changing Line 5

The fifth changing line speaks to the archetype of the Heretic in Human Design, the one who is invited to bring about transformative change. This line carries a dual responsibility: to stay true to one’s higher principles while serving the needs of the collective. It reminds me that progress cannot be achieved through force or ambition alone. Instead, it comes through alignment with integrity, service, and authenticity.

Reflecting on this, I saw how my initial success flowed naturally when I embraced these principles. Offering pay-as-you-may coaching allowed me to share my gifts with those in need, without letting financial gain take precedence over service. This alignment with my higher purpose attracted others through resonance rather than external effort—a hallmark of the 5th line’s frequency.

Now, as I face this plateau, the message is clear: I must continue to lead through the resonance of my vision. It is not about advertising or chasing recognition, but about embodying the light of service and allowing opportunities to flow to me naturally. The wisdom of the 5th line reminds me to remain centered, humble, and authentic, even in moments of stillness.

Confronting Stagnation: Heaven Over Earth

The next step of the reading revealed the changing line, transforming Fire Over Earth into Heaven Over Earth. My initial thought was hopeful—could this signify “Heaven on Earth,” a message of harmony and divine alignment? But as I delved deeper into the meaning of this hexagram, I realized it carried a different message: stagnation.

Heaven Over Earth depicts a fundamental disconnect. Heaven, the realm of ideals and aspirations, floats above Earth, the realm of the material and practical. They exist in parallel but are separated, unable to meet. This separation represents stagnation, a pause in forward momentum that asks us to reevaluate, realign, and prepare for the next cycle of growth.

At first, the word “stagnation” felt disheartening. In a world that glorifies constant progress, it can feel uncomfortable—even shameful—to be still. But as I sat with this message, I realized stagnation is not a failure; it is a natural and necessary phase of life’s cycles. Like the winter season, stagnation invites us to rest, reflect, and replenish. It is a time to take stock of what has been created and refine our vision before spring awakens new growth.

Stagnation challenges me to confront my own inner dynamics. It asks me to pause and reflect: Am I aligned with my highest vision? Am I working from a place of service, or am I pushing for progress for its own sake? This pause offers an opportunity to shed what no longer serves me and to refine the way I move forward.

The I Ching reminds me that life moves in cycles: creation, sustenance, transformation. Just as day turns to night, and winter turns to spring, so too do our personal and professional journeys move through phases of growth and rest. Stagnation is not the end—it is the space between chapters, the stillness before the next wave of progress.

Reflection: The Wisdom of Stagnation

As I reflected on this reading, a deeper truth began to emerge. Progress and stagnation are not opposites—they are parts of the same cycle, inseparable and necessary. The I Ching has reminded me that growth does not always mean forward motion; sometimes, it requires stillness, reassessment, and trust.

Stagnation invites me to realign my actions with my highest purpose. It challenges me to step back, not as a retreat, but as an opportunity to refine the foundations of my vision. In a world that demands constant progress, it is a radical act to pause and honor the rhythms of life.

This lesson also speaks to the pressures of my undefined root center and the open-ended nature of my head. These pressures, while uncomfortable, are teachers in their own right. They invite me to release urgency, to trust the process, and to embrace the wisdom of the present moment.

Through this reflection, I’ve come to see stagnation as a gift. It is not a void but a fertile ground, a space for clarity and preparation. When the next wave of progress arrives—and it will—I will be ready to meet it with integrity and intention.

To those who find themselves in a similar season of stillness, I offer this reminder: Life moves in cycles. Trust the pauses as much as the motion. Use the stillness to reflect, to align, and to remember the light within you that will guide the way forward.