BRIDGE OVER WHATCOM CREEK AT 70 AS I APPROACH 60

60. Chieh / Limitation

A lake occupies a limited space. When more water comes into it, it overflows. Therefore limits must be set for the water. The image shows water below and water above, with the firmament between them as a limit.

(p. 231, The I Ching or Book of Changes, Wilhelm / Baynes, Third Edition, July 1967)

And then there's "Love Minus Zero / No Limit":



"The bridge at midnight trembles."
(Bob Dylan)

Where am I going with this?

Forward.

Update: Even if the comments function disappeared on this post.

UNTO

Here's another question from the I Ching:

Return to the way.
How could there be blame in this?
Good fortune.
(p. 41, Richard Wilhelm / Cary F. Baynes translation)

And something I found at wood s lot, with some questions from Cesar Vallejo:

I AM GOING TO TALK ABOUT HOPE

César Vallejo

I do not feel this suffering as Cesar Vallejo. I am not suffering now as a creative person, or as a man, nor even as a simple living being. I don't feel this pain as a Catholic, or as a Mohammedan, or as an atheist. Today I am simply in pain. If my name weren't Cesar Vallejo, I'd still feel it. If I weren't an artist, I'd still feel it. If I weren't a man, or even a living being, I'd still feel it. If I weren't a Catholic, or an atheist, or a Mohammedan, I'd still feel it. Today I am in pain from further down. Today I am simply in pain.

The pain I have has no explanations. My pain is so deep that it never had a cause, and has no need of a cause. What could have its cause been? Where is that thing so important that it stopped being its cause? Its cause is nothing, and nothing could have stopped being its cause. Why has this pain been born all on its own? My pain comes from the north wind and and from the south wind, like those hermaphrodite eggs that some rare birds lay conceived of the wind. If my bride were dead, my suffering would still be the same. If they had slashed my throat all the way through, my suffering would still be the same. If life, in other words, were different, my suffering would still be the same. Today I'm in pain from higher up. Today I am simply in pain.

I look at the hungry man's pain, and I see that his hunger walks somewhere so far from my pain that if I fasted until death, one blade of grass at least would always sprout from my grave. And the same with the lover! His blood is too fertile for mine, which has no source and no one to drink it.

I always believed up till now that all things in the world had to be either fathers or sons. But here is my pain that is neither a father nor a son. It hasn't any back to get dark, and it has too bold a front for dawning, and if they put it into some dark room, it wouldn't give light, and if they put it into some brightly lit room, it wouldn't cast a shadow. Today I am in pain, no matter what happens. Today I am simply in pain.

unto (un'too); unstressed un'tᵊ (prep. Archaic. 1. to (in its various uses, except as the accompaniment of the infinitive). 2. until; till. [ME; modeled on the word "until"]

THE I CHING OR BOOK OF CHANGES

How can I be useful, of what service can I be? There is something inside me, what can it be?
(Vincent van Gogh, 1853-1890)

"A good question is never answered. It is not a bolt to be tightened into place but a seed to be planted and to bear more seed toward the hope of greening the landscape of idea."
(John Ciardi, 1916-1986)

Looking for a question rather than an answer,
I opened my copy of the Richard Wilhelm / Cary F. Baynes
translation of the I CHING OR BOOK OF CHANGES and found
this on page 158:

"It furthers one to undertake something.
How is this to be carried out?"