Finding Home at Breitenbush - Getting paid to live in paradise
Discover life behind the scenes at Breitenbush Hot Springs through the eyes of a traveling chef. Learn how working at retreat centers can offer purpose, community, and the chance to get paid to live in paradise.
PERSONAL STORIES
Keith Kalm
5/3/20254 min read
After years of wandering—across the Big Island, through Humboldt, Cave Junction, Happy Camp—I finally found a place that felt like home: Breitenbush Hot Springs, nestled in the Cascades outside Detroit, Oregon, just northeast of Mount Jefferson.
Breitenbush isn’t just a retreat center—it’s a living, breathing community. An intentional village tucked in the forest, built around ancient hot springs and powered entirely by geothermal energy. When I arrived, it wasn’t for a quick visit or a guest pass—I came to stay. To live, to work, and to see if there was still magic left in the idea of shared purpose.
And there was. In fact, there still is.
The Retreat Life, Reimagined
When you live on the road long enough—especially as a chef—you learn to spot certain signs. The glow of a fire-lit community circle, the rustle of chore charts and potlucks, and the familiar faces that reappear in unexpected places. These are the nodes in the nomadic network. You work at one retreat center, hear about another. You trade stories: where you’ve been, what to avoid, where the work is good. You cross paths with others who’ve spent seasons in places like Esalen, Kalani, or Mount Madonna. Breitenbush is part of that same lineage—but it stands apart.
Here, the staff aren't just staff. They're stewards. Members of a cooperative that governs itself with intention, respect, and structure. Breitenbush is worker-owned. Decisions flow through councils and working groups. It’s not utopia—but it is functional. And when you’re used to chaos and burnout in the hospitality world, that matters.
Living Where Others Come to Heal
The truth is: people pay thousands to stay at places like Breitenbush for a weekend. But as staff, you get something far greater. You get time. You get space. You get the rhythms of the land. And you get paid to be there.
For those willing to show up fully, working at a retreat center isn’t just a job—it’s a lifestyle. Housing is included. Organic meals are shared. There are yoga classes, massage therapists, counselors, herbalists, astrologers, and teachers all around you. And while the guests come and go, the community stays. You live in cabins tucked into the forest. You soak in hot springs at midnight. You rise with the sun to prep breakfast and end the day dancing barefoot in the lodge.
The value is immense. If you’re a traveling creative, chef, healer, or just someone seeking a different pace of life, retreat centers like Breitenbush offer the rarest kind of compensation: one where your needs—physical, emotional, and spiritual—are actually met.
A Kitchen Like No Other
As a chef, I’ve worked in high-end restaurants, private homes, pop-ups, and clubs. But nothing compares to the kitchen at Breitenbush. At its peak, it serves up to 250 guests per day, three meals a day, all vegetarian, all scratch-made.
It’s a real kitchen—commercial, professional, but built around cooperation. Roles are shared. Schedules rotate. You might spend 4 ours doing dishes, next 4 hours inventory, and tomorrow working the salad bar , and then maybe breakdown the next.. Leadership isn’t given—it’s earned. After you've been there awhile, they’ll test you with a solo breakfast shift before you’re trusted with bigger responsibilities. You don’t just cook here. You become part of a rhythm, a system, a pulse.
And the beauty of it? You’re not burnt out. You’re fed. You’re supported. You’re soaking in a hot spring after a long shift, not collapsing on a subway home.
Community, Connection, and Autonomy
At Breitenbush, the line between work and life blurs in the best way. Yes, there are rules—some written, others shared through culture—but they’re adult rules. If you drink or smoke, do it respectfully and with awareness. Romantic relationships happen. Friendships deepen. There’s privacy when you want it and connection when you need it.
Evenings are filled with music, workshops, bonfires, or silence. You can attend most of the guest events. You can disappear into a month-long personal retreat. Or you can throw yourself into the vibrant, daily swirl of life.
They host everything from yoga intensives and silent meditation retreats to ecstatic dance parties, sweat lodges, and seasonal festivals. When the guests leave for CRD (Community Resource Days), the space becomes yours. The hot springs stay open 24/7. There’s a private one down by the river—perfect for those hot-cold plunges that reset your nervous system and your soul.
A Model Worth Remembering
Breitenbush is family-forward and kid-friendly. There’s housing, child care, even a school. I’ve met people who gave birth here, surrounded by singing community members holding space just outside their home. It’s a place that dares to imagine a better way of living—and proves it can actually work.
For anyone considering the retreat life, or those burnt out by the traditional grind of the culinary world or corporate cycle, this is a beacon. It's not a vacation—it’s a transformation.
And yes, you can get paid to live like this.
Postscript:
More stories like this are coming to KeithKalm.com—memoirs from a life lived in kitchens, gardens, and far-flung corners of the world. If you’re curious about making the leap, whether you're a chef, healer, artist, or just ready for something different, stay tuned.