Hexagram 33: 遯

Retreat is not failure. Flight is failure—panic, chaos, abandoning position under direct pressure. Retreat is strategic withdrawal while you still have the power to withdraw cleanly. You don't wait for winter's full force to prepare for winter. You retreat when you see the signs, while you still have options. Wozniak left before the really ugly stuff—the board battles that ejected Jobs, the struggles of the late '80s, the near-death experience of the '90s. He saw the trajectory and withdrew. The difficult part is distinguishing between temporary obstacle (which you should push through) and fundamental incompatibility (which you should retreat from). Wozniak loved engineering for its own sake; Apple became about market dominance and corporate competition. That's not a temporary misalignment—that's divergent core values. When your presence can't change the direction and staying means compromising what you are, retreat. Wozniak's retreat was somewhere between voluntary and cheerful. He'd already detached internally; the physical withdrawal was just acknowledging reality. And what happened? He became happier, stayed friends with Jobs, returned for iPhone launches and company celebrations. Retreat preserved the relationship by ending the daily conflict. The story about his realization in Hawaii is perfect: he went there to code, looked out at dolphins playing in the ocean, felt the warm breeze, thought 'I don't have to do this anymore.' Inner freedom so complete that the external withdrawal is almost effortless. He wasn't running from threat; he was moving toward alignment with his actual values. Even with the Apple II providing 85% of Apple's sales in early 1985, the company's annual meeting didn't mention the Apple II division or its employees. That's when you know: the organization has moved on, and you should too. Not with resentment—with clarity. Wozniak said he 'missed the fun of the early days.' When the work stops being what you came for, retreat isn't giving up. It's refusing to compromise your essential nature for an environment that no longer supports it. When the environment no longer supports your growth, withdrawing isn't giving up. It's refusing to let incompatible circumstances grind you down. If the system can't be fixed and you can't thrive in it, exit gracefully while you still have the energy to build something better elsewhere.