Cocooning and the Art of Strategic Withdrawal [Part 2]
“Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you.” —Anne Lamott
Part of my work as a coach and facilitator is getting to design conversation spaces for people. Hosting off-sites and team retreats is good work to be part of. I’m grateful for it. But sometimes in the corporate world, people don’t like the language of retreat. “Folks, we’re not going backwards…we don’t retreat around here! This offsite is gonna be an Advance.”
You can call your offsite whatever you want. That’s fine. But the language of advance is actually part of the problem. And in a moment, I’ll tell you why.
This two part newsletter is made up of content I often use in retreat settings, yet reworked here as I try to find my own reframe for a slow summer.
In Part One, we explored the art of Strategic Withdrawal—the ability to pull back, embrace solitude, and reframe our perspective. We looked at a number of ways this can take shape, and how honouring the desire for withdrawal isn’t a selfish act, but a strategic one.
But let’s keep going. Because none of this is easy to actually do.
In Part Two, we’ll look at another metaphor (cocooning—an essential, overlooked phase of growth), we’ll engage a truly stunning piece of writing by David James Duncan, as well as an unpublished and likely unfinished poem from me.
If you find yourself overwhelmed by the pace and pressure of life, yet the thought of slowing or even switching something up induces guilt, I hope there’s something here for you. And if you feel like what you’ve got is no longer working and that you might be on the edge of an ending/beginning, I hope there’s something here for you too.