“Isn’t this place awesome—in like every way?!”
A man asks me this as I’m filling my coffee mug at 6 a.m. The sun is still low in the sky, the world washed in deep blue twilight. Below us, waves crash against the rocks some thirty feet down, steady and rhythmic.
I pause before answering. I take it all in—the salt air, the quiet hum of morning, the feeling of being held by this place.
“Yes,” I finally say.
We smile at one another, wish each other a good day, and go our separate ways. I settle into a beach bar lounger, open my journal, and begin reflecting on why this place checks so many boxes—why it feels right.
As a retreat planner and host, I’ve had the privilege of visiting many retreat properties around the world. Many are beautiful. Many are special. But not all of them align with what I believe makes a retreat truly meaningful—especially for medical professionals.
Over time, I’ve developed a clear (and growing) list of expectations. The lodging must feel peaceful and thoughtfully designed. The food must be nourishing, vibrant, and delicious. The vibe should be playful, but intentional. The location must feel convenient—or purposefully remote, if distance itself is part of the medicine.
It all comes down to design by intention.
There’s also a quieter, less tangible list—things that can’t be assessed online. For me, choosing a retreat center means walking the land, sharing a meal, talking with the staff, and observing how guests move through the space. I want to feel the energy. I want to see if it invites people to soften.
I carry a deep sense of responsibility when creating retreats for medical professionals. As a healthcare professional myself, I know how hard we work. I know how rare true rest can be. That’s why MedTreks retreats aren’t just vacations—they’re opportunities to reconnect with yourself in a way that feels restorative and real.
Different destinations serve different intentions.
Costa Rica invites fitness and play.
Panama calls in adventure and soul.
Bali offers ceremony and deep intention.
Mexico—especially here—is about slowing down.
Xinalani, a pre-Hispanic word meaning “seed,” is tucked along the ocean shore, surrounded by jungle-covered cliffs, yet just a 45-minute boat ride from the Puerto Vallarta airport. From the moment I arrived, I knew it was special.
On my first boat ride out, whales and dolphins surfaced beside us, playful and present. I felt a kind of joy that’s hard to explain—one that arrives unannounced and fills your entire chest.
Xinalani’s power lies in its location. Every room faces the ocean, scattered thoughtfully throughout the jungle cliffside. No matter where you sleep, you fall asleep to the sound of waves and wake to the rhythm of the sea.
The private beach stretches for hundreds of meters—soft white sand, hammocks, beach beds, and lounge chairs reserved just for retreat guests. Just steps from the water, there’s a pool, hot tub, and sauna. A small surf break sits a short paddle offshore. Everything you need—nothing you don’t.
Yoga here is taught by seasoned instructors who share cues in both English and Spanish, a subtle but meaningful reminder that we are guests in this land.
And just beyond the retreat grounds is a quiet Mexican village—cobblestone streets, fishermen’s boats, horses and cowboys, small tequila stands offering drinks to passersby. It feels unhurried. Unpolished. Alive. The kind of place that hasn’t been overtaken by tourism, where community life still feels intact. That matters to me. A lot.
Everyone comes on retreat for different reasons. This one is for those who want to be close to the ocean—literally held by it. For mornings with birdsong drifting through jungle cabanas, afternoons with whales on the horizon, and evenings lulled by waves at your feet.
This is a place to rest. To slow down. To plant a seed.
And I can’t wait to share it with our MedTreks community.
