I recently went to Costa Rica and unlike my usual adventures, I didn’t make a checklist. There were no must-see waterfalls, no zipline excursions, no meticulously scheduled day trips. In fact, I did something truly radical. I chilled.

It wasn’t entirely my idea, of course. My son made one request before we left since this was his birthday trip: no touristy things. Which, to a planner like me, felt a bit like telling a fish to avoid water. But I listened. And on the Pacific side of that beautiful country, we settled into something slower, softer, and sunnier.

We hung out at the pool. We wandered down to the beach. We got suntans that glowed of calm instead of chaos. We danced in the water like we had nowhere else to be because, for once, we didn’t.

I watched a yoga class on paddleboards end in a slow-motion domino effect of splashes, laughter, and one triumphant “namaste” before total surrender to gravity. It was chef’s kiss poetic. Balance, meet reality.

We’d venture into small nearby towns in the evenings for dinner or a bit of shopping. Everything felt warm and alive. The food was fresh and honest. The local fruits tasted like sunshine. Even the cream-filled donut wasn’t sugary it was just pure. That’s when I realized that the phrase I kept hearing, “pura vida”, wasn’t just a slogan. It was a way of being.

Costa Rica is full of color and life. Bold blues, lush greens, and birds that seem to have no concept of personal space. They’d swoop down and steal our berries mid-bite, the feathery equivalent of “thanks, I’ll take that.” The monkeys were loud and mischievous, swinging overhead as we swam. At night, on the dark paths to the gym, their roars echoed like nature’s version of surround sound. Equal parts thrilling and terrifying.

It was hot. My hair had its own ecosystem. But I felt present.

This trip wasn’t about checking boxes or finding the “best” anything. It was about letting the world slow down long enough to let something sink in. I wasn’t collecting moments for Instagram; I was living them. I was remembering what it’s like to wake up without an agenda and still feel fulfilled.

“Pura vida,” everyone said, smiling. Pure life.
At first, I thought it was just a greeting, like “hello” but happier. But after a week there, I realized it’s more of a mantra, a wink from the universe reminding you to stop sprinting.

And so we did.

We’ll save the wild Nicaragua day trip story for another time. Because for now, Costa Rica deserves its own quiet space. It was my reminder that sometimes the best adventures are the ones where you stop searching and just float.