Before Frost's Descent in late autumn, the seasonal stalls in the market closed earlier than in previous years. A recent graduate said he had sent out over a hundred resumes; the jobs that once advertised "no experience needed" now mostly read "must work independently." He asked: is it because I am not good enough that I do not even qualify to be chosen?
He is not alone in this confusion. The shrinking of entry-level positions is like an invisible crack quietly running between generations. The old path of "first be chosen, then learn slowly" seems to be loosening.
- The Qualification to Be Chosen Is an Invisible Discipline
We are too used to thinking of "entry level" as a narrow gate: only after someone is willing to give you a chance do you count as having a ticket in. This discipline is so natural that we rarely stop to ask: why must one first be chosen to prove one is qualified?
Classical fate calculation speaks of "earth" as that which bears and grounds. But earth can nourish not because it is inherently fertile, but because it can receive and transform. If "soil" is understood only as "a platform given by others," then once the platform is not given, a person feels there is nowhere to take root.
- Soil Can Be Made by Oneself
This year, Bingwu, the fire energy is strong, and the ninth period also belongs to fire. Fire tends to flame upward and also governs civilization and manifestation. In such a time of "manifestation," the disappearance of entry-level positions may not be entirely bad—what it loosens is precisely that invisible discipline of "only qualified after being chosen."
When the ready-made ladder breaks, a person may be forced to see: soil has never been something one can only wait for others to lay down. You can compost yourself, channel water yourself, and mark out a small plot yourself. This is not romantic motivational talk, but a shift of perspective: from "who will choose me" to "what do I want to plant."
- Self-Planting Is Not Desperate Rooting
Some might say, then work harder and root more desperately. But the key to "being your own soil" is not desperation, but acknowledging that soil can be made by oneself.
Take industries as an example: education, publishing, and cultural creativity belong to wood, and wood needs earth to stand; real estate, construction, and agriculture belong to earth, and when earth is thick, wood flourishes. This is not to tell you to change careers, but to remind you: you may notice what kind of "soil" you are putting effort into—is it given by others, or nurtured by yourself?
In a year with strong fire energy, it is easy to feel impatient. But self-planting is slow. It allows you first to extend your roots into fields that interest you, even if those fields have no job title or establishment yet.
Character changes thought, thought changes action, action changes destiny. Rather than waiting for a broken ladder to be repaired, you might first look down and see whether this patch of soil beneath your feet can be turned over by yourself.
The mirror shows you as you are; the path is yours to walk. May you, in a place without ladders, still be willing to keep an acre of arable land for yourself.