It's Beautiful, But It's Not A Vacation: Living and Running Topia with Chelle
Why I'm Writing This
Almost as soon as a guest finds out I’m the owner of Topia, they ask two questions:
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How did Topia come to be?
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What’s it like to live here and run a retreat center?
I usually keep my answers short—not because I don’t want to share, but because the truth is complex. And for an introvert, explaining it all takes more energy than you might think. So I’m writing it down. For me. For you. And for anyone who’s ever asked—at the pool, over dinner, or five minutes into meeting me:
“So… what’s your life really like here?”
Now I’ll have a link to send.
What I Actually Do
What I actually do is walk the property every day, looking for how things could be even better.
How can this retreat be excellent?
What would make things easier, smoother, more memorable?
I try to see everything through the eyes of a guest and a retreat leader—always scanning for what’s resonating and what could be elevated. I want the experience to feel seamless, even magical. That means anticipating needs, listening closely, and constantly refining.
It’s also about balance. I’m always weaving together the needs of our guests, our team, and the surrounding community. And sometimes that means setting kind but firm boundaries. When I say no to a guest request, it’s often because I’m saying yes to something else—honoring my team’s capacity, protecting the land, or preserving something sacred in my own life or marriage.
That part—the boundary-setting, the behind-the-scenes discernment—it’s a big component of the work. And even though it’s not always easy, I know it's important for our future and relationships that it's done with my best effort & intention.
My Relationship with Feedback
I’m also the person who receives, assesses, and implements feedback. And I’ll be honest: I have a complicated relationship with it.
I love feedback because it helps us grow. I want to know what’s working, what’s missing, what could feel even better. But I also take it personally—because there’s so much of me in this place. Every corner of Topia has been touched by time, intention, effort, and love. So while I’m proud of what we’ve built, I’m also human. When someone suggests it’s not enough, it stings. And yet—I want to hear it. Because we’re committed to excellence. Even when it’s hard.
What’s also hard? Making a remote space feel like it has every comfort and convenience guests are used to at home—especially when it simply doesn’t. We’re 90 minutes from the nearest major city, and access to certain amenities or supplies is limited. That doesn’t mean we don’t care. In fact, it’s the opposite. I care so much that it hurts when the feedback is something I can’t do anything about.
If something doesn’t meet your expectations, I want to know—especially if it’s something we can change. But things like “add more rooms” or “shorten the airport wait” or “make it warmer in the evenings” aren’t actionable for us. They just reflect the reality of where we are and the kind of experience we’re creating.
So yes, send the feedback. Share the suggestions. We welcome it. Just know that my one wish is for guests to understand that we’re doing the very best we can, with intense commitment, in a place that’s intentionally a little off the beaten path.
The Biggest Challenges
From the outside, it probably looks like I live in paradise. And I do—but I also run a business here, and that part is more multifaceted than most people imagine.
This is a vacation destination for our guests. They arrive ready to unwind, and that’s exactly what we want. But for me, this isn’t a getaway. This is work.
Running a retreat center in Mexico means blending two very different sets of expectations:
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The fast-paced, hyper-convenient culture most guests are used to
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The slower, relationship-based pace of life that defines this region
That contrast is beautiful—and also challenging. I’m still learning how to navigate it.
But the hardest part, truly, is managing my own expectations. I’m not expecting perfection. But I am always striving for excellence. And sometimes the realities of running a business here don’t align with the timelines or systems I envisioned. That’s when I have to pause, breathe, look at the spectacular beauty that surrounds me, and recalibrate.
The Reward
There’s so much fulfillment in this work.
One of the greatest joys is seeing the relationships that form—between guests, and within our team. Watching people return year after year, bringing more friends with them each time, is incredibly meaningful. It tells me we’re doing something right. That Topia matters.
I also feel extremely proud of the way Topia contributes to the local community. Kris and I care deeply about working alongside other small business owners and local vendors in Pescadero. Whether it's sourcing food, planning excursions, or coordinating guest services, we intentionally collaborate with people who are part our community. The support is mutual, and that means a lot to us.
And above all, our team is our priority. We’ve built a workplace culture rooted in care, respect, and shared investment in what we’re nurturing. Creating a beautiful retreat space is one thing—but upholding a place that feels good to work at every day? That’s just as important. We want our team to feel appreciated, valued, and supported. They’re the heart of Topia.
A Retreat Center isn’t just about the guests who visit—it’s about the people who make it what it is, day after day.
If you’ve ever wondered what it’s really like to run a business like ours, the answer is: it’s layered. It’s real. It’s incredibly rewarding, and sometimes incredibly hard.
But most of all, it’s meaningful. And I wouldn’t trade it.
