The quiet before the sprint

You know the feeling. The sprint is about to start, and everyone is already mentally in their tasks. The retrospective is the last thing on their minds, but it's the most important thing for the team. The air feels a little heavy, like we're all waiting for someone to say the wrong thing.

Finding a neutral starting point

I brought out the wheel as a way to sidestep the usual awkward silence. It wasn't about me picking the format, or the loudest person in the room. It was just a simple spin. The options were all valid, but none of them were mine. I just wanted to remove the pressure of that initial choice.When I explained it, I kept my voice low and steady. It's just a tool, I said. It helps us decide together without the debate. A few people leaned forward, curious. Others just watched, their expressions unreadable. The goal was to get us talking, not about the process, but about our work.

The moment of acceptance

I gave it a flick. The soft whirring sound was the only noise in the room for a few seconds. All eyes followed the pointer as it slowed, hesitated between two sections, and finally settled. I read the result aloud, just stating it plainly.There was a collective, quiet exhale. Not of disappointment or excitement, but of recognition. A few colleagues exchanged glances and gave small, almost imperceptible nods. The tension that was about choosing *how* to talk dissolved. Now we just had to talk.That silent reaction was the whole point. No one felt railroaded or outvoted. The decision was made, and it was fair. We could all just move on to the real conversation. The wheel did its job by being completely impartial, and in doing so, it gave the room back to the team.