The name 名
明 is light, 夷 is to wound. Míngyí 明夷 is light injured and covered over. The Miscellaneous Notes say bluntly, “Míngyí is destruction”: brightness put out, the world turned to night.
The image 象
Above is Kūn 坤, earth; below is Lí 離, fire and sun. The sun has sunk under the ground and the surface is dark. It is Jìn 晉 inverted: there, a bright ruler and talent rising; here, a benighted ruler and the bright wounded. The lower three lines are the lords and officials outside; the upper three are drawn into the dark court itself.
Layers of images 層
A gua can be read on several levels at once: the trigrams as members of a family (father, mother, eldest to youngest sons and daughters), the six lines as ranks in an organisation (from newcomer to ruler), and as forces of nature and animals. Each extra level adds meaning to the line texts.
Read as a family
Below is Lí, the middle daughter; above is Kūn, the mother. The bright daughter is buried under the heavy earth. Here Kūn is not the gentle, embracing mother but the darkness that covers everything, the silence of the crowd. For someone with light in a place that has none, the main thing is to draw the light in and protect it; the Great Image calls it being bright by using obscurity.
Line 1, “darkening light in flight; it lowers its wings”: Lí is the pheasant, a bird. Line 1 is farthest from the darkness and the first to sense that something is wrong, like an injured bird flying off low with drooping wings; it would rather go hungry on the road and be talked about than stay.
Line 2, “wounded in the left thigh; rescued by a strong horse; good fortune”: Míng Yí comes from Xiǎo Guò, whose nuclear Xùn is the thigh; when its Line 4 moves down, that Xùn disappears, so the thigh is hurt. In Míng Yí, Line 2 sits in the nuclear Kǎn of lines 2–4, the horse with a fine back, strong enough to carry the wounded out of the dark.
Line 3, “darkening light on the southern hunt; it captures the great chief; do not be hasty in setting things right”: in this hexagram the source of darkness is not Line 5 but the top line, the last line of Kūn. Line 3 is in Lí, the south; it corresponds with the top line with no yang line in between, so it can strike straight at the chief wrongdoer. But the upper Kūn is the crowd, whose minds cannot change overnight, so it must not rush.
Line 5, “the darkening of the light of Prince Jī; it is fitting to be steady”: the fifth place is normally the ruler, but not here; the dark ruler is the top line. Line 5 sits right beside him, his kinsman Jīzǐ, who could neither leave nor speak openly, so he feigned madness and hid his light while keeping his integrity. Those right next to the centre of darkness need more wisdom than those far away.
Turn Míng Yí over, or simply swap its trigrams, and you get Jìn, Progress. Jìn is sunrise, a bright ruler and willing ministers; Míng Yí is sunset, a dark ruler and wounded ministers. The same light and earth, only a matter of which is on top. In Míng Yí think of Jìn: this night is the precondition of the next morning, and what must be kept safe is the light, until it can rise again.
Lines 2–4 make Kǎn and lines 3–5 make Zhèn, forming Xiè, Release. Release is already hidden inside the darkness: Line 1 fleeing, Line 2 rescued, Line 3 hunting in the south, Line 4 walking out of the gate are all stages of getting free of the dark, one step at a time.
In sequence 序
進必有所傷，故受之以明夷；夷者傷也。
The Sequence says: “Advance must meet with injury; hence Darkening of the Light follows. 夷 means to wound.” Pressing forward without pause eventually brings harm. Light that has risen to its height must next go down.
The judgment 辭
明夷：利艱貞。
The whole judgment is three characters: “Favourable to be steadfast in hardship.” Most hexagrams say simply “favourable to be steadfast”; the added word “hardship” marks how dangerous the situation is. Yet even here the Changes does not lose heart: one cannot choose the times, but one can choose one’s stance.
Commentary on the judgment 彖
彖曰：明入地中，明夷。內文明而外柔順，以蒙大難，文王以之。利艱貞，晦其明也，內難而能正其志，箕子以之。
Unusually, the commentary names two historical figures. “Inwardly cultured and bright, outwardly yielding, he bore great adversity: so did King Wen.” And: “Within the house there was trouble, yet he kept his purpose upright: so did Jizi.” Jizi’s case is harder still: as the tyrant’s uncle, his affliction came from his own family.
The great image 象
象曰：明入地中，明夷；君子以蒞眾，用晦而明。
“Light enters the earth: Darkening of the Light. The noble person, in overseeing the many, veils his brightness and so sees clearly.” A leader who scrutinises everything teaches everyone to hide; one who is generous and does not pry lets people show themselves. Laozi: “When government is muted, the people are simple; when government is exacting, the people are cunning.”
The six lines 爻
Ruling line The fifth line, which names Jizi, shows how to conduct oneself in darkness and is taken as the ruling line; the source of the darkness, answerable for the whole figure, is the top line, the tyrant Zhou of Shang.
The path of the six lines, bottom to top
Line 1 is the first to see darkness coming and flies off with drooping wings, preferring hunger on the road to staying. Line 2 is already wounded but escapes on a strong horse, still auspicious. Line 3, at the top of the lower trigram, marches south and strikes at the head of the darkness, but must not expect minds to change at once. Line 4 enters the upper trigram, goes deep into the left side of the belly, grasps the heart of the darkness, and walks out of the gate. Line 5, right beside the dark ruler, hides its light like Jīzǐ and keeps its integrity; the top line is not light but darkness itself, which first climbs to heaven and then sinks into the earth, bringing about its own fall.
初九明夷于飛，垂其翼。君子于行，三日不食，有攸往，主人有言。
In plain words
Flying in the darkness, wings drooping. The noble person on the road goes three days without eating; wherever he goes, the master has words of reproach.
Close reading
Yang in a yang place, correctly placed and answering the fourth line, it has the impulse to leave, hence “flying.” But the times are dangerous, so its wings droop: it leaves quietly. Read as derived from Xiǎoguò 小過, the fourth line descends three places to the bottom (“three days”), and the inner Duì 兌, the mouth, disappears (“not eating”), so the master complains. The Small Image: “it is right not to eat”: one who is leaving no longer cares for the stipend.
One level deeper
Line 1, “darkening light in flight; it lowers its wings”: Lí is the pheasant, a bird. Line 1 is farthest from the darkness and the first to sense that something is wrong, like an injured bird flying off low with drooping wings; it would rather go hungry on the road and be talked about than stay.
If you drew this line
If you must leave a bad situation, leave quietly. Be ready to give something up, and don’t be shaken by the displeasure of those above.
The Worthies Go West
Under the late Shang tyranny, many people of talent left the east for the Zhou in the west. Mencius records that Boyi, fleeing King Zhou, lived by the northern sea; hearing that King Wen had arisen, he said: “Why not go to him? I hear the Lord of the West takes good care of the old.” Jiang Taigong, living by the eastern sea, did the same. Mencius calls them “the great elders of the world”; when they turned to Zhou, the fathers and sons of the realm followed. The Lord of the West’s standing grew, and so did the tyrant’s suspicion.
六二明夷，夷于左股，用拯馬壯，吉。
In plain words
In the darkness, wounded in the left thigh. Rescued by a strong horse: good fortune.
Close reading
Yin in a yin place, central and correct, it is the only line in the figure that says “good fortune.” From Xiǎoguò: an inner Xùn 巽 (the thigh) disappears when its fourth line descends, so the left thigh is hurt. Now the line sits in an inner Kǎn 坎 (lines 2–4), Kǎn being the horse with a fine back, hence the rescue. The Small Image: “compliant, yet keeping to principle,” so it is wounded but escapes. Tradition takes this line as King Wen.
One level deeper
Line 2, “wounded in the left thigh; rescued by a strong horse; good fortune”: Míng Yí comes from Xiǎo Guò, whose nuclear Xùn is the thigh; when its Line 4 moves down, that Xùn disappears, so the thigh is hurt. In Míng Yí, Line 2 sits in the nuclear Kǎn of lines 2–4, the horse with a fine back, strong enough to carry the wounded out of the dark.
If you drew this line
You may already be hurt, but not past help. Stay yielding without giving up your principles, accept trustworthy help, and work your way out.
Youli and the Dappled Horses
According to the Shiji, the Marquis of Chong slandered the Lord of the West to King Zhou, saying that his accumulated virtue was drawing the lords to him. The tyrant imprisoned him at Youli. Hong Yao and others procured a beauty of the Youshen clan, dappled horses from the Lirong, teams of horses from Youxiong and other rarities, and presented them through a royal favourite. The delighted king said a single one of these would have sufficed to free him; he released the Lord of the West and even granted him bow, arrows and axes, with authority to punish other lords. Wounded in the thigh but carried out by “strong horses,” the Zhou turned a corner.
九三明夷于南狩，得其大首，不可疾貞。
In plain words
In the darkness, hunting in the south, one captures the great chief. Do not rush; be steadfast.
Close reading
Yang in a yang place, correctly placed at the top of Lí: inner light and the strength to act. Lí is the south, hence “hunting in the south.” It corresponds with the top line, with no yang line in between, so it can reach the “great chief” directly. But Kūn above is the multitude; the realm cannot be overturned overnight, so: do not rush. The Small Image: “the aim of the southern hunt will in time achieve much.” “Aim” means not yet done; “in time” means later. Tradition takes this as King Wu.
One level deeper
Line 3, “darkening light on the southern hunt; it captures the great chief; do not be hasty in setting things right”: in this hexagram the source of darkness is not Line 5 but the top line, the last line of Kūn. Line 3 is in Lí, the south; it corresponds with the top line with no yang line in between, so it can strike straight at the chief wrongdoer. But the upper Kūn is the crowd, whose minds cannot change overnight, so it must not rush.
If you drew this line
Your aim is right and your strength is real, but the time is not ripe. Fix your purpose, prepare the ground, and don’t force a quick result.
The Review at Mengjin
The Shiji records that in the ninth year of his reign King Wu marched east bearing his father’s spirit tablet and reviewed his troops at Mengjin. Eight hundred lords gathered unbidden, all saying: “Zhou can now be attacked.” King Wu replied: “You do not yet know Heaven’s mandate; it is not yet possible,” and withdrew. Two years later, when the tyrant had killed Bigan and imprisoned Jizi and the loyal ministers had died or fled, he marched again and settled the matter at Muye. “Do not rush” is precisely this sense of timing.
六四入于左腹，獲明夷之心，于出門庭。
In plain words
Entering the left side of the belly, one grasps the heart of the darkness, and goes out of the gate and courtyard.
Close reading
Yin in a yin place, correctly placed, answering the first line. Kūn above is the belly, and this line has moved up into it from below, hence “entering the left belly.” It also sits in the inner Kǎn, the trigram of heart-sickness, so it sees into the dark ruler’s mind. “It has grasped his heart and intent”: being at the centre, it knows best that nothing can be done, and leaves. Tradition takes this as Weizi, the tyrant’s elder brother.
If you drew this line
You have seen the truth at the centre. If you are sure it cannot be redeemed, protect what must be protected and step away.
六五箕子之明夷，利貞。
In plain words
As Jizi in the darkening of the light: favourable to be steadfast.
Close reading
Central in the upper trigram, inside the earth that smothers the light; yin in a yang place, soft but holding the centre, with no partner in the second line and nowhere to go. The Changes does not seat the tyrant here; it gives the throne to Jizi, because he preserved wisdom. The phrase can also be read “Jizi hides his own light.” The Small Image: “the light must not be extinguished”; it is kept for the future.
One level deeper
Line 5, “the darkening of the light of Prince Jī; it is fitting to be steady”: the fifth place is normally the ruler, but not here; the dark ruler is the top line. Line 5 sits right beside him, his kinsman Jīzǐ, who could neither leave nor speak openly, so he feigned madness and hid his light while keeping his integrity. Those right next to the centre of darkness need more wisdom than those far away.
If you drew this line
The situation is hard and the exits few. Keep your brilliance out of sight; preserve yourself and what you stand for until it can be handed on.
上六不明晦，初登于天，後入于地。
In plain words
Not light but darkness. First he rose to heaven; then he plunged into the earth.
Close reading
Yin in a yin place, correctly placed in form, yet it completes Kūn and is the very source of the darkness; it answers the third line and is the “great chief” that line will capture. The lower lines speak of light wounded; here the text says flatly “not light but darkness.” The top places belong to heaven: as Son of Heaven he should have “illuminated the four quarters,” but “plunging into the earth” is because he “lost the rule.” The greatest light became the deepest dark. Tradition identifies this as King Zhou of Shang.
If you drew this line
Guard against the arrogance that comes with height. The higher the position, the more one must keep to principle, or the rise becomes a fall.
Stories 典
Jizi: Feigned Madness and the Great Plan
The Shiji relates that when King Zhou first used ivory chopsticks, Jizi sighed: ivory chopsticks will want jade cups; jade cups will want rare delicacies from afar; the extravagance of carriages and palaces starts here and there will be no recovering. As the king’s excesses grew, Jizi remonstrated and was ignored. Someone urged him to leave. He replied: “To leave because one’s advice was refused would display the ruler’s wickedness and win the people’s favour for oneself. I cannot bear to do it.” He let down his hair, feigned madness, became a slave, and in seclusion played the zither to his own sorrow, the tune remembered as “Jizi’s Lament.” After the conquest King Wu sought his counsel on government. Jizi spoke not of the Shang but of the Great Plan in Nine Divisions that Heaven had granted to Yu, preserved as the “Great Plan” chapter of the Book of Documents. The light was buried but not put out.
The Three Humane Men of Yin
The Analects opens its eighteenth book: “Weizi left him, Jizi became his slave, Bigan remonstrated and died. Confucius said: The Yin had three humane men.” All three were the tyrant’s close kin, facing the same ruler, and each chose differently. Weizi, the elder brother, saw the case was hopeless and left court to preserve the ancestral sacrifices; his line was later enfeoffed in Song, from which Confucius’ forebears came. Bigan pressed his objections until, as the Shiji tells it, the king said in fury, “I hear a sage’s heart has seven openings,” and had his heart cut out. Jizi feigned madness and preserved his wisdom. Confucius calls all three humane: there is more than one upright way through darkness, provided the heart is not lost. The fourth and fifth lines of this hexagram correspond to Weizi and Jizi.
Waiting for the Dawn
Huang Zongxi, who lived through the fall of the Ming, named his political treatise Míngyí dàifǎng lù, known in English as Waiting for the Dawn, after this hexagram. The darkened light is his age; the “awaited visit” is a future ruler who will come seeking counsel, as King Wu came to Jizi. The book criticises autocracy, holding that the realm is the host and the ruler a guest. Rather than empty protest, Huang committed his thought to writing and entrusted it to the future: another way of keeping the light alive.
Insight 悟
Míngyí contains no word “misfortune”; apart from one “good fortune” in the second line, its lines mostly counsel steadfastness. No one chooses the age they live in, but everyone chooses how to bear it: King Wen endured, Weizi left, Jizi feigned madness, King Wu waited. Concealing one’s light is not passivity; it keeps the light from being snuffed out at one blow. Darkness usually springs from arrogance at the top, and in any position the real discipline is to be bright within and yielding without.