Hexagram 26: 大畜

You're hitting constraints. Here's what this probably means: the limitation isn't blocking you—it's teaching you. Your job is to learn from it, not rage against it. Massive capability restrained becomes more powerful than massive capability unleashed. Counterintuitive until you've tried both. The SID chip with its three oscillators produced the soundtrack of the '80s while 'superior' systems with more channels produced forgettable noise. Why? Because limitation forced discipline. You couldn't waste voices, couldn't be lazy with patches, couldn't rely on raw power. You had to understand the architecture completely. Check what happens when you accept the constraint: limited budget forces creative solution. Tight deadline eliminates scope creep. Small team requires clear communication. The constraint isn't the problem—it's the curriculum. Here's the thing about mastery of limited resources—it makes you more valuable than someone who's only worked with abundance. The demo scene coder who can make the C64 sing gets hired to optimize modern systems because they actually understand the machine. That's not folklore. That's cause and effect. Bob Yannes wanted to build a real synthesizer chip—the Ensoniq ESQ-1 he later created is, in his words, what he wanted the SID to be. But the ESQ-1, despite being technically superior, doesn't have the SID's cultural legacy. The constraint forced focus. The limitation created mastery. So what are you doing? Fighting the boundaries or learning every possibility within them? The treasure's hidden in the mountain. You find it by studying, not by wishing the mountain would move.