Why retreating is the best strategy for coping

We were already going mad and then the pestilence arrived.

A double whammy; a promise of upending life as we know it.

How do we survive (what surely seems like) thermonuclear war?

Lao Tsu is very precise on this: retreat is the only strategy. Consider this stanza from the Tao Te Ching:

There is a saying about strategy:

I dare not play the host but play the guest;

I do not advance an inch but retreat a foot instead,

This is known as

Marching forward when there is no road,

Rolling up one’s sleeve when there is no arm,

Taking hold of a weapon when there is no weapon,

And dragging one’s adversary by force when there is no adversary

To be clear, retreat is not surrender. It’s living to fight another day, perhaps on another field. The greatest retreat in the history of warfare was the evacuation of 300,000 allied troups from the beaches of Dunkirk in June 1940.

Today, as the twin specters of a deadly virus and of a rising fever of irrationality stalk the land, when all our beliefs are shaken, when moral guardrails are crumbling, when superstition supplants science, flailing around is impotent. Outrage and resistance are futile. When fake news is the currency of the day, truth is elusive.

What, then, is our metaphysical Dunkirk? Where do we should retreat to?

The only option is retreating into oneself. It is a pause for regrouping, reassessment and for seeking the truth. Bombarded as we are from all sides with individuals and groups professing various discourses as truth (or hoaxes), the responsibility is within us to establish our own relationship with truth. Retreating into oneself, I aver, is an attempt to unearth the truth, because that’s where truth is to be found.

But that seems counterintuitive (if not downright “woo woo”): shouldn’t we be out there helping others instead of burying our heads in the sand? Retreating into oneself, at a time like this, appears selfish, smacks of escapism and sounds vaguely un-American. Some people may even deem it nihilistic, counter to the moral principles of Western society. The concept of retreat, itself, carries a negative connotation.

Not so, in ancient societies.

Confucius, writing in 500 BCE, in “The Great Learning,” has this to say about looking within,

The ancients who wished to illustrate illustrious virtue throughout the kingdom, first ordered well their own states;

Wishing to order well their states, they first regulated their families;

Wishing to regulate their families, they first cultivated their persons;

Wishing to cultivate their persons, they first rectified their hearts;

Wishing to rectify their hearts, they first sought to be sincere in their thoughts

The Bhagavad Gita of the Hindus specifically prescribes retreating into oneself — through the courting of solitude, avoidance of crowds and self-abidance — as a necessary condition for approaching the truth.

Temet Nosce (“Know thyself”), the aphorism inscribed on the temple of Apollo in Delphi, has been various interpreted through the ages as “know your place,” or “know your limits.” It could reasonably be interpreted as a cautionary phrase.

I prefer to interpret it as a motivational instruction; to look inward, an injunction for retreating into introspection.

According to the late French philosopher and historian, Michel Foucault, the process of knowing oneself starts with the concept of “caring for oneself.” The ancient ethicists, Socrates among them, advocated self-reflection, meditation and engagement in ascetic practices, all aimed at plumbing the truth behind a state of being. They also understood that “care of the self” — living ethically with attention to one’s body, mind, and soul — is the key to better relationships. To the ancient Greek, care of himself expanded to “care of the city, of his companions.”

If one’s not on the front lines of the fight, retreating into one’s own self may be the best way to help those who are.

It’s easier to direct one’s attention outward, to assign cause, to blame, to lose oneself in fantasies. In comparison, introspection — self-examination — is painful and hard work. But, take heart in Socrates’ assertion, “the unexamined life is not worth living.”

Attempting to know oneself, true self-examination, requires only disciplined attention to the content of one’s thoughts; the luxury of time is not a necessary condition, though it helps. Introspection, by definition, is a lonely act and a courageous one. But it’s a necessary act, because it’s the precursor to right action. It is the antithesis of nihilism.

Self-help guru of the moment, Brené Brown, claims to guide people in understanding and improving themselves — and one another. But she emphatically dismisses the “self-help” label, claiming that you can only help other people, not yourself.

I reject that idea. Caring for others begins with caring for oneself. Self-care isn’t self-indulgence. It’s doing the hard work of examining and improving oneself in order to better serve the world. Helping others first may sound uplifting and charitable, but without helping oneself first it’s simply random, ego-driven exertions.

I much prefer the sentiments expressed by another of today’s self-help doyennes, Glennon Doyle, who says, “There is no such thing as one-way liberation. When we grant ourselves permission to live as our truest selves, we automatically grant permission to everyone around us to do the same.”

We may find it difficult — morally repugnant, even — to put ourselves before anything else in the world. We are more inclined to regard a focus on the self as a means of escape from all possible rules.

But for Foucault and the ancient Greeks, it was counterproductive not to focus on the self. A finely-honed self-awareness was recognized as vital for participating in social and political life. Care of the self, then, became a focal point for individual freedom, positive relationships with others, and ethical participation in politics.

I can think of no better argument for self-examination than expressed in this exhortation by Socrates, “Esteemed friend, citizen of Athens, the greatest city in the world, so outstanding in both intelligence and power, aren’t you ashamed to care so much to make all the money you can, and to advance your reputation and prestige — while for truth and wisdom and the improvement of your soul you have no care or worry?”

Now is a good time to start.