I think we need a jolly good 'wake' to grieve what we've lost.

The last few weeks I've been delighted to receive enquiry and confirmed bookings for corporate retreats at my outdoor center, Makahika OPC, north of Wellington NZ; companies who have gallantly stuck their heads above the parapet, venturing out into the new world and booked for a 'day out', 'an overnight or two', 'a Retreat Experience'.

The general purpose of their Retreat - quoting from my Camp Fire Brochure -

INTIMATE CONVERSATIONS | ACKNOWLEDGE | RESET | RE-IGNITE

page 2 of my flyer | Explore and understand the neuroscience of stress and change, explore how people typically respond to uncertainty and investigate tools to support the wellbeing of your team. Grieve and acknowledge the loss of team members, reflect, re-set, build excitement for the new direction. Find laughter and commonality amongst the team, experiencing adventure using the outdoors as the conduit.

Delivered using experiential learning at Makahika OPC - Tararua Ranges, Horowhenua etc. etc...

Historically, a teams communication needs, were low until their arrival; at that time we actively accommodated individual quirks and concerns, nurtured and challenged; discomfort was cool, rain was just wet, no cell-phone - I know right!, but easy, the bush was exciting and there was great adventure to be had.

Post-COVID the questions are different, they are coming in prior to teams arriving; individuals are contacting me, not the HR contact or EA who made the booking but employee's; the questions aren't about food or timings, their focus, quite different.

'is there a wet weather alternative', 'what if it rains? will we get wet', 'what if I don't want to do anything', 'do we have to be outside all day?', 'can we drink at lunchtime?' 'can my family contact me?' 'what do you mean there's no cell-phone' and my favorite conversation this week, 'why can't we just stay inside the lodge?'

So I'm sitting quietly in my hotel room (actually I'm sitting on my tongue, it's rolled up with a spike through it to inhibit an accidental, derisive answer). Remembering I'm a Hawk by nature, with a side of Peacock (ex-military officer) - I (generally) work hard to spell 'empathy'; that said, with years of practice and coaching (thanks Sd2), I'm highly trained in purposeful deep caring and curiosity and you wouldn't know it's a learned skill.

So here's what I think.

We're hurting more than we know. People are still really, really confused about 'up and down'. 'Uncertainty' pre-COVID had more resilience associated with it; uncertainty was a challenge or an adventure; now the rules have changed; uncertainty is unwelcome, it's to be avoided, it spikes our adrenal and stress response, it's associated with fear, the stress of further isolation and yep, 'todays-uncertainty' triggers a deeply primal response.

Our ability to 'cope, be agile, adapt', to be comfortable being uncomfortable is more reduced that we acknowledge. Teams have been shattered - some that I know have lost over 50% of their leadership team; yet there's no formal acknowledgement of the grief of lost peers, friends and workmates; survivors guilt is unrecognized but present. I strongly believe we need the opportunity to have a jolly good 'wake'; to remember, to acknowledge, to cry, to laugh, to tell stories, to let go of what was, and re-set to the new 'how exciting, what now".

In my day (don't you love that little quip? it means two things, 'one is I 'had a day', the second, unfortunately, 'it's now over'), I digress; when we lost a pilot in the RNZAF (& I buried 3 friends in 2 years), we would do two things. 1. Organize, prioritize, delegate, recover the body, recover the aircraft, Court of Enquiry, arrange funerals (all the functional pieces of the death of a beautiful soul, and the loss of a military asset) and then 2. Superiors, peers & RNZAF friends, would meet in the Officer's Mess; bar stools would be turned upside down (think Top Gun and microphones) drink would be drunk, stories told, tears dripped, laughter and dancing, joy and sadness, celebration and deep deep loss, expressed, acknowledged and embraced. This was us, raw, emotional, no bars-held - absolutely nothing shameful in our display of our grief.

And when the dawn's bright eyes popped up over the horizon at 0600 the next day, We got up and We got on. Individually, we worked our way through any lingering grief, or survivors guilt (great counselling support was available) and as a whole, we held each other fast and strong. But we had acknowledged out loss. We had grieved our loss. We had cuddled and cried, embraced and supported. And now we, re-set as a team, we worked.

I think perhaps that's what we're all missing. I think there's a need for a jolly good 'wake'; to put us back on the path to good-health, wellbeing and resilience. I think teams need the quiet of nature, the space found in a Retreat; I think your team would be a 'stronger team' if you gave them the opportunity to sing, to dance, to cry, to laugh; shame has no place in grief; shame has no place in the strength of a team.

Perhaps your team would benefit from 'that space', 'that opportunity'. Whether it's at my Makahika OPC or some other magnificent outdoor center or Retreat; take your team, hold them in your hand, and surround them with the Softness that's required, for Strength in your team, to emerge on the other side. Let's acknowledge what was, and courageously lean into 'what's to be'.

Just a thought.