Earlier this year I decided to go to Limburg, a region of the Netherlands that was new to me, but which was the location for a start-up company’s pilot of a co-working retreat. Co-working spaces bring together freelancers and rootless remote workers in a paid-for space that offers the facilities of an office, and allows people to keep a division between work and home.
I tried out three co-working spaces while working away in Barcelona once and each came with its own quirks; including an in-house vegan chef, an entrance built within the scaffold of next door’s building site and frequent power-cuts. Worst of all was the co-working space that allowed pets; animals wandered forlornly between people who paid them no attention, and once I looked over my laptop screen to see a dog be sick in the plant-pot close by.
Co-working retreats are a step further into the unknown. This opportunity in Limburg was an experiment – touted simply as a house in the countryside where professionals could focus on a creative project. Your meals were looked after, there were 90 minute yoga lessons before breakfast, and a coffee pod machine dripped high quality caffeine to us on demand. There was a suggested fee for our four-day stay, not mandatory since this was a pilot.
We were staying (and working) in a converted barn that backed onto a nature reserve, a big beautiful stretch between the banks of two lakes. There were grazing wild ponies, cattle and rabbits that bounced between tufts of grass and dandelions. It was a beautiful backdrop to work from, although there were not clearly delineated or private work spaces as such – it was really just the kitchen table or an armchair in the lounge. I was there to continue writing (dusting off a long-worked on piece that needed re-energising) but there were others that needed to edit video, or take Skype phone calls so the lack of distinct work space was an issue.
Our group comprised five other guests and a yoga teacher (whose morning lessons covered his room and board.) In all our various professions would be listed as: online music tutor, mature student in psychology, documentary maker, well-being coach and blogger, project worker, researcher.
It became quickly apparent that we all had different ideas of what a co-working retreat meant. For myself, I wanted uninterrupted focus time on my particular project. For our Dutch host, however, his vision for the stay seemed to lean more towards a chance for inner reflection on our working selves.
For example, at dinner on the first evening, our host shared an idea on how to make this experience more ‘meaningful’ for us: going around the table, we would share progress on the project we were working on, and any challenges we were facing. We would all ‘set the intention’ by putting a note in a bell jar on which we’d written the one thing we wanted to get out of the week. When the time came to leave, we could empty the bell jar, share the intentions and review our progress. Ordinarily, I am all for these sorts of initiatives but it felt a little forced. This was perhaps because in our own little bubbles of work, broken only by mealtimes, it was not easy to break through to instant familiarity with people from different countries, who were also working on entirely different projects. Perhaps also, it was because the group was too small, and the stay too short – we were only going to be there for three nights in total.
Our few days passed, very pleasantly, and although I didn’t achieve my writing ‘intention’ completely, I had moved forward – and came away with all the new thoughts that come from being in a new place, and surrounded by new people. However, what also struck me is that we haven’t yet worked out how it is possible to co-work, whether that is on a retreat, or as remote workers in a co-working space. What co-working spaces offer beyond desk space, access to a printer and proximity to other humans, is dependent on the space’s organisational culture – in that respect, like any other office.
We might all find that our work places are characterised by increasingly virtual qualities – the strength of our WiFi connection, or the tidiness of our email inbox, but we will never stop wanting colleagues, team players and work friends.
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