Treating the I Ching as a crystal ball sets the bar impossibly high—and usually ends in frustration. For divination, it won’t promise stock-market secrets or guaranteed outcomes; at best, it offers a nudge toward fresh angles. Its true strength lies in self-reflection. Each hexagram feels like a Rorschach test for the psyche, inviting a pause, a deep breath, and the chance to read between the lines of one’s own life story.

Empirical proof of “accuracy” is scarce, but that’s missing the forest for the trees. Reliability blooms when the seeker leans into honesty instead of chasing prophecies. Picture a modern mindfulness app, but with 3,000 years of Taoist and Confucian wisdom woven through every coin toss. In recent months, a wave of Gen Z creators on TikTok has been pairing I Ching readings with daily journaling challenges—no blind faith required, just raw self-inquiry.

For big decisions—career shifts, relationship crossroads—the process acts like a mental clearing brush. It won’t hand down the “one right answer,” yet it can highlight biases, forgotten options or blind spots. Used at the drop of a hat, it risks becoming a predictable routine; used with intention, its archetypal imagery can spark startling insights.

Reliability, in this case, is all about how the tool is wielded. Without genuine openness, those lines of broken and unbroken yin-yang marks feel like random chicken scratches. Lean into the practice, though, and every throw of the coins becomes a moment to recalibrate, to tune in to values and patterns that might otherwise slip under the radar. In that sense, the I Ching remains as dependable today as it was centuries ago—when treated less like fortune-telling fluff and more like a quiet conversation with one’s own unfolding wisdom.