When guests arrive at Sansara, many describe the same sensation – a calm they feel before they can name it. A sense of grounding. Connection. As if the land itself is holding them.
Yes, the architecture matters. The craftsmanship matters. But at Sansara, the feeling comes from somewhere deeper: intention.
To understand how the resort came to life, we sat down with Sansara co-founder and designer Mike Phillips for a quiet conversation about design, community, and what it really takes to build a retreat center in Cambutal, Panama.
What follows is the story behind the spaces – told in Mike’s own words, honest and simple.
What sparked the idea of Sansara?
Mike smiles before answering.
“Sansara was born from a feeling more than a plan. We wanted a place that blended adventure, design, wellness, and community – everything that mattered to us. After years in construction, I wanted to build something that wasn’t just about structures, but about emotion.”
Cambutal wasn’t chose through strategy, but through resonance.
“When we first came here, it wasn’t a business dream. It was a life dream. A chance to build something rooted in nature, simplicity, and intention.”
The first design choice?
Connection. Open-air living. Local materials that belong to the land: teak, clay, stone – natural elements with a soul.
How did the vision evolve once you arrived?
“The land led,” Mike says. “Cambutal has a quiet magic that reshaped everything we thought we were building. It stopped being about creating a resort and became about creating harmony.”
Nature wasn’t an influence – it was the blueprint.
Mike and the team watched the sun, the wind, the patterns of the river. Every structure was oriented to create the best experience throughout the day – cool morning breezes, soft evening light, and natural flow.
The biggest challenge?
“Drainage. We didn’t realize how much water the rainy season brings. That became one of our biggest design lessons.”
How did the local community shape Sansara?
“We didn’t hire a team to execute a plan. We learned together. The local builders taught me creativity with limited tools and incredible resourcefulness. I shared precision and attention to detail. It was never MY project. It was OURS.”
The result wasn’t only a resort – it was a relationship.
“We built community. Friendship. Trust. Many of the people who helping build Sansara still care for it today.”
For Mike, materials are more than functional.
Materials tell stories. Every piece of teak, every handmade tile carries history – the earth, the hands that shaped it, the passage of time. When guests touch the walls, I want them to feel authenticity.”
Materials that matter most?
“The imperfections are the beauty. The cracks, the wear, the warmth – they remind you that everything has a history.”
Flow is at the heart of Sansara’s architecture.
“When guests arrive, the path should feel intuitive. Like the land is guiding them.”
In a retreat setting, this flow creates a subtle invitation to slow down – a gentle exhale.
A favorite example?
“There’s a natural creek behind the property. Instead of redirecting it, we build a bridge over it and let the water choose its path.”
This philosophy – nature first, design second – is woven through the entire resort.
Some spaces at Sansara were created specifically for connection.
“The restaurant and Buddha Bar are the heart of the resort. That’s where stories are shared and strangers become friends.”
Mike recalls an early moment:
“One night, we lost power during dinner. It was pouring rain. We lit candles. Music played. Everyone danced. It became one of those nights you never forget. The space made it possible.”
Designing for experience starts with feeling.
“You begin by asking how people should feel. Then you design from that feeling, not from a trend. That’s when spaces start to speak.”
Sansara wasn’t designed to impress – it was designed to belong.
To the land. To the community. To every person who walks through it.
Mike sums it up simply:
“When you build with the land, with people, and with intention…
a space becomes more than design.
It becomes a place that speaks.”