A Retreat Guest’s Perspective: The Force That Got Me Here May Not Be the Force That Carries Me Forward

A guest retreat reflection written by Rob Biasotti.

I almost did not go.

I had scheduled two events that I thought were on different dates: a bachelor party that mattered to me, and a wellness retreat in Costa Rica called Tenable Vibrations, hosted by Dan Dougherty and my wife, Lori. When my wife clarified the retreat dates, I realized the two events overlapped. I also remembered that I had committed to the retreat first.

So the decision was not simple, but it was clear.

There was also something almost synchronistic about the whole thing. Dan was once a student in my high school history class. I coached him on a state championship football team. He later became my first adventure traveler, and we shared another adventure hiking in the desert near Havasu. Years later, he went on to graduate from West Point, serve as a combat veteran, build leadership experience in corporate America, and then create Tenable Vibrations.

I was not walking into an experience led by a stranger. I was walking into something created by someone whose life had intersected with mine in several different seasons — student, athlete, adventurer, soldier, leader, and now facilitator. And, to stay with the Star Wars thread, there was something full-circle about it. Someone I once taught and coached was now guiding me. In that moment, the student had become the teacher.

I was conflicted before I ever got on the plane. I was also exhausted.

I had just come through one of those stretches that school leaders understand: Giving Day, graduation, Baccalaureate Mass, evaluations, end-of-year pressure, and a thousand tasks coming from a thousand angles. On top of that, I am 58 and have been dealing with constant joint pain. I was tired. I hurt. I had already been to Costa Rica around 30 times. Part of me thought, “Do I really need this?”

Apparently, I did.

The retreat did not give me some brand-new truth. It did something better.

It slowed me down long enough to hear what I already knew.

That may sound simple, but it is not. Most of us are not suffering from a lack of information. We know what we should do. We know the practices. We know the habits. We know the conversations we are postponing. We know the version of ourselves we are trying to become.

The problem is not knowledge.

The problem is stillness.

And stillness did not happen all at once. It built over two days.

It started with rest, food, and enough space to stop rushing. It continued through yoga, meditation, breath practice, life mapping, reflection, conversation, beach time, and quiet moments where the mind finally had room to connect the dots.

That sequence mattered.

The yoga helped slow my nervous system down. The meditation created space. The breathwork opened something deeper. The life mapping gave structure to what I was sensing. The booklet forced me to answer questions I probably would have moved past too quickly on my own.

Each piece mattered by itself. But the real value was in the sequence.

One of the most powerful parts for me was the contrast.

On the walk to the beach, we passed homes that appeared to have very little visible comfort or material abundance. I do not want to romanticize poverty or oversimplify anyone’s life. But the contrast made me think.

Some people have material abundance and still carry a meaning deficit. Others may have very little material abundance and still possess faith, family, peace, or spiritual depth.

The goal is not luxury. The goal is not suffering.

The goal is alignment.

Enough abundance to live responsibly. Enough meaning to live honestly.

That word — alignment — kept coming back.

During the retreat, I had to look directly at my own life: physical, financial, spiritual, mental, family, personal, and career. A few things were clear.

I am blessed.

I have a wife I love, adult children I love, a home, work that matters, and more life experience than I probably deserve. But I am also tired.

My body needs work. My nutrition needs work. My morning routine needs work. My social media habits need work. My boundaries need work.

One realization was especially clear:

My morning does not always belong to me.

Coffee. Phone. Social media. Delay. Taking too long to get ready. Letting the day come at me instead of meeting it.

That is more than a time-management problem. It is a rhythm problem.

The deeper prompts got even more direct.

Where do I feel pain?

Physically, yes. But also in the deeper patterns I need to manage more honestly.

What do I wish were different?

More discipline. More emotional steadiness.

What is one belief I need to keep examining?

That effort only counts if it comes with struggle.

What would I tell my younger self?

Don’t be afraid.

That one hit me.

Because a lot of my life has been powered by intensity: drive, will, pressure, proving, pushing, and trying to force outcomes.

Those traits helped me. They helped me in sports. They helped me in coaching. They helped me in leadership. They helped me in adventure. They helped me build a life.

In my own strange language, I would call it my Jedi archetype.

But during the final holotropic breath practice, something clicked.

It was not one isolated moment. It was the consolidation of the whole retreat.

The yoga. The meditation. The breathwork. The life mapping. The booklet. The questions. The lecture pieces. The earlier forgiveness exercise. The conversations. The stillness.

All of it came together.

I realized that some of the force I have used in my life came from what I would call the dark side of that archetype: over-reliance on will, intensity, control, and the need to prove.

And here is the hard part: it worked.

Until it didn’t.

Or maybe more accurately, it worked — but it is not sustainable as a long-term operating system.

The force that got me here may not be the force that carries me forward.

That was the win.

Not a perfect retreat. Not a magical breakthrough. Not a completely new identity.

A clear realization.

The next operating system has to be quieter: nutrition, exercise, sleep, meditation, prayer, breath practice, family, boundaries, better mornings, less social media, more reading, more truth, and more discipline — not as punishment, but as freedom.

At one point, we were asked to imagine ourselves at 110 years old, looking back on a full and rewarding life. I did not see a bigger title. I did not see another achievement.

I saw contentment.

I saw my wife, my children, grandchildren, strengthened relationships, and a life that looked, from the distance, like a beautiful sunset.

That is what I want.

Not less ambition. Not less impact. Not less fire.

Just a better source of power.

That is why the experience was so fulfilling. Dan did not just run a retreat. He created the conditions for people to slow down, reflect honestly, and integrate what they were experiencing physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.

This retreat was a win for me because it helped me see the next work clearly:

Stop trying to force life harder.

Build the discipline to live better.

And learn how to lead from the light side of the Force.