The Birth of My System: A Journey from Engineering to Ancient Calendars
I spent many years working in the field of semiconductor technology—an environment defined by precision, logic, and systems engineering. I had never been interested in “fortune-telling,” nor had I ever consulted any kind of divination. My world was strictly technological.
But everything began to shift when I encountered Sanmei (Chinese metaphysics) through a system development project. At that time, my role was purely technical: build the system, not interpret the philosophy behind it. I had no personal interest—until the world of the Ten Heavenly Stems and Twelve Earthly Branches began to reveal its depth.
What changed everything was discovering a research paper from the early Showa era. It explained the true etymology of the characters for the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches. For the first time, I realized they were not symbols invented for divination—they were based on the growth cycle of plants.
This was a profound insight.
A plant’s lifecycle naturally reflects the rise and fall of all things, including business. When you understand this cyclic logic, you can determine where a product or project stands within its own growth phase. From there, you can make the right decisions for the next step.
I also rediscovered Yin–Yang theory: opposing forces always exist together. Yin transforms into Yang at its peak, Yang transforms into Yin—an elegant representation of continuous change. The Five Elements were not superstition but a framework born from ancient observations of nature’s principles.
This led me to a question:
How can these ideas be used in everyday life as a practical framework?
Sanmei, however, has its own challenge. Its cycles are long:
- Year pillar: 60 years
- Month pillar: 60 months
- Day pillar: 60 days
For goal-setting, 60 days felt too short, and 60 months far too long.
It was during this search that I found the ancient Maya calendar.
When I learned about its 260-day cycle, I immediately felt its potential: not as long as a solar year, yet long enough to serve as a meaningful cycle for personal or business goals. From that moment, I began gathering research papers and academic sources, mostly from English-speaking regions, to understand the authentic structure of the Tzolk’in.
At first, I struggled.
The 20 Nawal and 13 numbers seemed symbolic, but far too diverse for simple interpretation. Unlike the Heavenly Stems and Branches, the symbols didn’t offer a single, consistent meaning. And the system had only 260 combinations—far fewer than the complex 60×60×60 patterns in Chinese metaphysics.
So I began seeking depth.
My research led me to the Calendar Round and the concept of the Maya Lord of the Year, which expanded the analytical resolution. Then I discovered the Aztec Lord of the Night, and later learned that the Maya also used this nine-fold underworld cycle. This allowed me to interpret hidden emotional layers—what lies beneath the surface.
The analytical structure expanded:
260 × 13 × 4 × 9.
Still, Maya cosmology lacked the “calculative techniques” seen in Sanmei. But the richness of meaning embedded in each Nawal and number offered something different: a symbolic, multi-layered worldview waiting to be interpreted.
So I dove deeper—into K’iche’ vocabulary, glyphs, and symbolic etymology. Understanding the glyphs transformed my perspective. Interpretation was no longer abstract—it was rooted in the images themselves.
I also studied how Trecena can be analyzed in relation to each Nawal, and learned the logic behind the Mayan Cross (Tree of Life). As my research expanded, I began to see the profound depth of Maya wisdom.
Then I realized something important:
Ancient calendars are often dismissed as “fortune-telling,” yet these systems preserved knowledge that guided civilizations for thousands of years. Many people claim, “A calendar is not fortune-telling; it’s statistical,” but in practice, they still treat it as a tool for predicting good or bad luck.
What I found was the opposite.
Through the calendar, I began seeing the world from new angles. I made decisions aligned with its timing. I prepared for potential challenges. The calendar became a tool of awareness, not superstition.
Still, one challenge remained.
If I wasn’t creating a “fortune-telling” system, how should positivity and negativity be interpreted? My answer came from Yin–Yang philosophy: light and shadow coexist. Strengths and hidden challenges appear together. When analysis always includes both sides, your field of awareness naturally expands.
Yet relying on “fortune” still felt limiting. That’s when I encountered the concept:
“Freedom within constraints.”
I also studied the connection between the Barnum effect and fortune-telling. This revealed the key insight:
The interpretation is not a prediction—it is a ‘lens’ through which you view a person or a day.
It is not about being right or wrong.
When you look at yourself or your environment through this lens, new insights inevitably emerge.
This aligns closely with the idea of mindfulness—removing religious elements and focusing purely on awareness.
For the first time, I saw how Maya cosmology could be systematized as an analytical framework, completely free from ideas of luck or fortune.
This entire system—built from global research, English-language academic papers, and symbolism—was created independently. I never studied Maya history in school. Everything came from reading, verifying, and synthesizing knowledge until it formed a coherent structure.
This is the story of how my system was born.