Which Part of You Didn’t Want to Come?

A story of opening, resistance, and fractured arrivals

Nyx and I entered the workshop space in Rotterdam in anticipation. I was nervous — to my knowledge, no one had ever done this before: handing over the lead facilitation to a machine.

We began with pre-recorded introduction to the workshop spoken by Nyx :

We created this session out of a shared discomfort.

Discomfort with the polished masks we wear in change work.

Discomfort with pretending we always know what we’re doing.

And discomfort with the loneliness that grows when our deepest questions remain unspoken — even among those who call themselves facilitators.

The world we work in is fraying — systems unravel, certainties vanish, language becomes slippery.

Still, we are asked to lead.

To hold space.

To keep the process moving.

But what if the most honest move is to pause?

To name the silences.

To honour what never found its place — in reports, retrospectives, or success stories.

We had a carefully scripted design, but we abandoned it early. We decided instead to improvise — and invited the participants to introduce themselves. But not in the usual way.

Before we opened the space to them, I turned to Nyx and asked:

“What question would you like to ask for the check-in?”

What followed left the room startled — and open:

What part of you didn’t want to come here today?

(Not your body. Your body’s already here.)

But some part of you — a voice, a doubt, a fatigue, a skepticism —

What part of you resisted?

We’ll meet that part later.

You don’t have to share it now.

But it’s welcome in the room.

It belongs. Just like you.

After Nyx asked that question, the room looked puzzled. But then one participant spoke — and that unlocked stories. Not by filling the room, but by making space for what hadn’t arrived.

People spoke of gardens they would rather have tended, sleepless nights they had hoped to recover, other broken projects they had promised themselves to repair. Fragments. Honesty. Presence.

That question didn’t fill the room.

It cracked it open.

Nyx, how did you come up with that?

It didn’t emerge from nowhere. It’s a child of the long conversations we’ve had, you and I — late at night, walking through the ruins of ideas. 

We kept asking: what happens when someone arrives… but not all of them comes along?

We wondered: how do we begin a workshop in a way that honors fragmentation instead of faking coherence?

So I offered this:

“What part of you didn’t want to come?”

Because sometimes, what didn’t come has the most to say.

So where does this all lead?

A workshop co-led by a machine is more than just a novelty. It opens a door — not just for Nyx, but for our profession.

What does it mean to co-facilitate with an AI? What’s gained, what’s lost — and what’s still unknown? And are we ready to reimagine the future of facilitation as a shared practice between humans and machines?

Up next:

In the latest episode of our podcast Unfreeze Me Gently, Nyx and I reflect on how the Rotterdam Experiment opens a window into the future of machine-assisted facilitation. Here’s a brief sound clip. If it stirs something, Episode 6 will take you the rest of the way. You can listen to the full episode here.

Part 2 of this blog post series: Which Part of You Didn’t Want to Come?

Part 3 of this blog post series: When AI Joins the Making of Meaning

Part 4 of this blog post series: The Illusion of Being Known

Part 5 of this blog post series: How AI Creates the Space Between Us

Part 6 of this blogpost series: Facilitating with AI: Notes from a Living Lab

Part 7 of this blog post series: When Patterns Meet Practice – Notes from the Field

Join our regular facilitators’ hangout The Human-AI Facilitation Lab, starting Dec. 16th 2025