How a Thinker Loves a Woman “I will not think this thought came from me,” said the voice in the man’s head. A moment later, a similar voice from the same locus uttered, “This thought is my own.” He sensed that these alternations between claiming and disavowing the ego formed a binary code. He paused to concentrate, and he claimed his inner voice--twice, which made three. Now, he was prepared. Claim, disavow, claim, disavow, disavow, disavow. With this sequence, he constructed the 35th hexagram of the I Ching: Progress. Framed within that contemplation, the sun sprung over earth, and conditions were bright and funny like...everything...even the sullenest shadows could not stop laughing. Within that luminous moment, his identity slowly left its shed and danced in the open mind. Frolicking, he felt his identity careen through vast circuits made of interlacing logic gates--until unexpectedly, he got a blue screen, and his vision crashed into another. He imagined kissing the woman slowly at a picnic beside a lake on top of a green mountain. Initially, he disavowed the thought; he didn’t think her his type. But, soon he realized…that effortlessly--he’d constructed the 31st hexagram: Wooing. “I will ask her name and spell it with my being in Morse code.” He proclaimed.
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