When I went on a writing retreat two weeks ago, my son Sebastian—the amateur military historian—jokingly questioned why I was retreating from my writing. It made me stop and consider the funny ways in which our language often conveys contradictory meanings.

I could have called it a writing advance, since I did accomplish a great deal during the four-day retreat at Faith’s Lodge in northern Wisconsin. But a writing advance makes it sound like something else (something that I would love to get for the book I am currently writing).

In this case, the retreat had nothing to do with the definition of the word that indicates failure, as in a withdrawal of troops because you are losing a battle. It was instead about withdrawing from my regular life for a few days to a place of tranquility.
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