What this position describes. The tradition links this position with how a person handles their own will: insisting, giving way, looking for agreement. A filled cell here is usually read as a leaning towards holding your line, and its cost is stubbornness where no argument is needed. An empty one counts in this method not as a defect but as a different arrangement: flexibility and a readiness to adjust are described more often, and alongside them the difficulty of speaking up first.

A single one points to moderate reliance on your own will: it is there, but it does not set the tone for everything. Descriptions run roughly like this — a person insists where something genuinely matters and steps back where the argument is not worth the effort, and the line between those cases is drawn by what is at stake rather than by principle. The resource is that your position does not have to be proved from scratch every time, so a conversation stays a conversation instead of a test of strength. The reverse side of the same trait: from outside, that selectiveness can look like inconsistency, and agreement given quickly is sometimes remembered later with regret. The feeling of having yielded before you worked out how much it mattered is a familiar one here.

A question to sit with: When did you last insist on your own way — what did you feel straight afterwards, and what a day later?

This is a general description. What it means in a specific situation is what a practitioner works through with you.

What this position describes. The tradition calls this position "health", but more precisely it is about an attitude to bodily load and the ability to hold a long distance; diagnoses do not come into it. A filled cell is usually described as a habit of relying on stamina and not noticing tiredness. An empty one as early sensitivity to overload, which means regime and pauses have to be built deliberately rather than by how you feel.

One four is described as an even tolerance for load: there is a reserve, it is not unlimited, and as a rule this is noticed in time. Such a filling is usually read as the ability to take on a long stretch of work and step off it before rest becomes compulsory. The resource is agreement: body and plans rarely quarrel in earnest, and recovery generally needs no special conditions or separate effort. The other side is how invisible the whole question stays. While everything holds, load is not thought about at all, and accounts note that the skill of spreading one's strength is more often picked up later, already on the long distance. The regime, in short, forms by itself — right up until circumstances change it.

A question to sit with: By what signs do you notice you are tired — and which of them do you usually stop at?

This is a general description. What it means in a specific situation is what a practitioner works through with you.

What this position describes. We describe this position as an attitude to uncertainty: how habitual it is to act when the outcome is not guaranteed. A filled cell is usually read as a readiness to start without full clarity, and its cost is underrating the consequences. An empty one is described as a need for support and calculation: decisions come more slowly but are less often taken blind. Neither counts as an advantage in this method.

When there are no sevens in the date, the talk is not of a cautious character but of a different order of choosing: the tried path first, and only then, if it did not work, the unusual one. What is usually described is reliance on precedent — how it was done before, how it is done, what someone has already tested. The resource shows in expensive mistakes happening less often, and plans rarely falling apart halfway. The cost is named in the same breath: the non-standard move comes to mind later, sometimes not at all, and the matter is put off until there is barely anything left to choose between. You may well know the feeling that doing it differently is the option you consider last. The method calls this emptiness no flaw — a different order, not a shortage.

A question to sit with: When you take on something with an unclear outcome, what usually outweighs what — interest or calculation?

This is a general description. What it means in a specific situation is what a practitioner works through with you.

What this position describes. The tradition describes this position as the reserve of strength a person takes things on with, and the pace at which they carry them. A filled cell is usually linked with engaging at once, and with the risk of spending yourself on everything alike. An empty cell means no less here: it is spoken of as selectivity — there is strength for few things, but what is chosen is held longer.

With one digit in this cell, the talk is of a steady supply without surplus: there is usually enough for your own circle of people and tasks, but not much held back beyond that. People of this make take something on when the reason is visible and the end is visible; grabbing at everything at once rarely appeals. Evenness is what the tradition names as the resource — the pace holds day after day, and those around fairly quickly learn what can be counted on. The other side is the same by nature: under overload there is nothing left to give, and a request beyond the usual volume knocks harder than it looks from outside. Perhaps you also know how one unplanned evening can smudge a whole week, though in itself it asked for little.

A question to sit with: What took most of your strength this past week — and did you choose it yourself?

This is a general description. What it means in a specific situation is what a practitioner works through with you.

What this position describes. The tradition links this cell with the way a conclusion is reached: through step-by-step analysis, or through grasping the whole quickly. A filled cell is more often described as reliance on a coherent chain of reasoning, with the reverse side that it is hard to move on until everything lines up. An empty one is described as deciding by feel, where speed is higher but explaining where the conclusion came from is usually much harder.

An empty cell here is read not as a gap in thinking but as another route to a conclusion. The usual account: the answer appears before the explanation, whole, and only afterwards are words found to fit it. You may well know the sense of simply knowing what is right, while a request to lay it out step by step costs more effort than the decision did. The resource is speed, and a readiness to move when the data is plainly too thin for a full analysis. The cost is the same by nature: without the chain it is hard to find the place where the reasoning turned off, and hard to hand the line of thought to someone who wants to check it rather than take it on trust.

A question to sit with: Your last notable decision — could you break it into steps, or did the explanation turn up afterwards?

Numbers describe how a date is put together. They say nothing about where you are now, who is beside you, what you have already tried and how it ended. That is usually exactly where the question sits that reports like this get opened for — and no page here answers it.

What this position describes. The cell is linked with how a person handles obligations: a word given, debts, promises to the people close by. A filled cell is described as a heightened sense of duty, to the point of taking on other people's business unasked. An empty one is read as a freer attitude to the formal side of agreements: they are revised more easily, and the people close by more often have to state what they expect out loud.

A doubled eight describes obligation that has become the support of the relations around it. Of this make it is usually said that people count on them: they remember who was promised what, and come back to it months later. Care is expressed more by deed than by word — do it, bring it, close the question — and those close gradually get used to building plans with that support in mind. From the same root grows an inner ledger: reliability is taken to be mutual, and inattention in return is generally noticed, though rarely said aloud. The trait has its own cost. Refusal comes hard, the list of things taken on grows unnoticed, and accumulated disagreement sometimes breaks out as an inventory of everything that was done.

A question to sit with: Which promise have you kept longest — and who was it actually made to?

This is a general description. What it means in a specific situation is what a practitioner works through with you.

What this position describes. Here the tradition puts an interest in what can be counted and checked: numbers, schemes, the way things are put together. A filled cell is described as a pull to take things apart down to the foundations, along with a habit of demanding precision where others are happy with an approximation. An empty one is read differently, not as a shortcoming: more often as indifference to the formal side, and trust in a general impression, in an image, in conversation.

A single three is described as an even, unemphatic interest in the exact. The scheme, the calculation, the instruction come into play when there is no doing without them, and are set aside as soon as the task is solved. The usual remark is that this make understands how things are built exactly as far as the job requires, and does not dig further out of curiosity alone. Proportion is the resource: the approximate is accepted where the approximate is enough, and no argument is started over the second decimal place. The cost lies in the same place — without an outside reason there is little pull to get to the bottom of things, and a subject demanding long fiddling with detail gives way easily to a clearer one. The sense of having understood enough is familiar here.

A question to sit with: What do you do when the figures in a report disagree with your sense of things — recheck them, or go with the sense?

This is a general description. What it means in a specific situation is what a practitioner works through with you.

What this position describes. Here the tradition speaks of a taste for work whose result can be seen: made by hand, brought to a finish. A filled cell is usually linked with a need for a tangible outcome and with irritation at undertakings where the result is vague. An empty cell means no less — it is described as a pull towards design and organising, in which the routine part is easily put off or handed to someone else.

An empty position here is read not as inability but as a different order of interest: the idea and the design of a job occupy more than the doing of it. Descriptions of this make usually note the ease with which someone takes up something new, and the same ease with which they postpone finishing — especially when the result is already clear in their head. The resource is seen in being unattached: the tool, the working order, the person doing it can all be swapped if the task calls for it, and nothing inside resists the swap. The cost stands next to it: unclosed jobs pile up, and hands-on work is usually returned to through an outside deadline or someone's request. The thought that inventing it was more interesting than finishing it is a familiar one.

A question to sit with: What piece of work over the past month did you finish with your own hands — and what kept you at it?

This is a general description. What it means in a specific situation is what a practitioner works through with you.

What this position describes. The position is linked with memory, and with how a person makes up the knowledge they lack. A filled cell is usually described as picking things up easily and holding on to detail, with the reverse side that interest fades as soon as things become clear. An empty one is read just as substantively in this method: new things come through repetition and notes, but what has been taken in is less often lost and usually gets as far as being used.

One nine is read as an everyday working volume: attention is enough for what touched you, and noticeably less for what passed by the edge. The tradition describes this as selection — the sense of a conversation is retained, the general picture, one or two substantial details, while everything attendant falls away without regret. The resource is seen in a head not clogged with the superfluous, leaving room free for the new. The cost is the same by nature: the line between important and unimportant is drawn quickly and not always accurately, so a trifle discarded as secondary often turns out to matter. It is usually noted that when the stakes are high, this make leans calmly on written notes and does not count that as a concession.

A question to sit with: What have you learned this past year and already put to use — and how did it stick?

This is a general description. What it means in a specific situation is what a practitioner works through with you.