I started Jeremy & Kathleen almost 5 years ago – not only to document the remodel of our historical home together but to validate our somewhat scandalous new beginnings together as a couple. J&K was a place where I captured, shaped, and shared as I decorated my home, navigated a new marriage, and learned how to cook and eat local. Lots of you were with me as I made bigger leaps and traveled the world and quit my day job to work for myself. J&K evolved with me as much as it could but recently I felt as if I had outgrown the space – I needed new digs.
So yes. Here we are. Welcome to my new space.
I’ll continue to write about adventure, travel, dreamings, life, inspiration, and behind the scenes of creative entrepreneurship – all the stuff you’ve come to expect from me. But I also look forward to using this space to explore and share more of the person I’m becoming – from the big aspirations down to the daily details.
How to follow along:
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Sayulita was a rad little town. It’s just touristy enough to be friendly and have stuff to do – but it’s also real enough to have little dogs and garbage in the streets. But even the most mangy looking dogs have collars and seem to be well fed. They like to romp around in the ocean and take shade under our beach chairs. In the mornings one rooster will crow and start off a chain reaction of roosters crowing as far as you can hear.
Jeremy and I stayed for a week in a super modern vacation rental with concrete countertops up on a hill. We went to the market daily to stock our place with avocados, mangos, unrefrigerated eggs, and soft Mexican cheeses. We had a salt water dipping pool and every evening a view of the sunset over the ocean. But even our super fancy house began to smell like what will always remind me of Nepal – which is a byproduct of shitty toilet paper in a trash can next to the commode.
The following week we stayed at the Haramara around the corner just outside of town for a week long yoga retreat. We had a beautiful open air casita with no electricity, gas lamps, a mosquito net and open bathroom – the lack of privacy took our relationship to a whole new level. The land was peppered with probably a dozen casitas and two large open pavilions for yoga practice – both overlooking the jungle and the ocean. We watched mama Chachalaca birds feed their babies and even witnessed a migration of thousands upon thousands of crabs try and reach high ground before a rain storm.
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By the end of our trip I became especially homesick and kept thinking about People Who Travel. I especially thought about Zoe – the young Australian we met in the back of Captain Darrin’s truck as we ventured out on our sailing adventure. She seemed to be in her mid-twenties and had already traveled a good deal of the world. She liked the small town of San Pancho (right next to Sayulita) and decided that she might be able to stay there for a while. And as I my craving for daily routine back home intensified I kept thinking about Zoe and what her life must look like – not necessarily the grand travels and adventures but the day-to-day in San Pancho. I wondered if the room she rents for $75 / month has air conditioning and how many articles of clothing she has. I wondered if she was mostly happy or bored or content or tired. I wondered if she missed home.
Since our trek through Nepal I’ve placed unrealistic expectations on my travels. I been demanding revelations, liberation, change, experience, adventure and worldliness on unsuspecting countries. I’ve been actively seeking out answers across borders but I’m beginning to wonder if the truth lies in quiet questions that have no boundaries. This I know for sure: I’m glad to be home.
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P.S. I’ve been working hard with my developer to migrate over to www.andkathleen.com which will be my new blog home within the next week or so! I’ll keep you updated on how you can follow me via RSS and Bloglovin so that the switch is as easy as possible.
It was Monday afternoon. I was in Sayulita, Mexico and had just spent the day in the ocean. The sand was burning hot and I was returning a stand up paddle board I had rented for a few hours. The guy running the surf shop rinsed off my board with a fresh water hose and asked me in broken English where I’m from. My response, as usual is, “Oklahoma. Do you know where it is?” The man said “Ohhh… there’s ice there right now.” I brushed him off and assumed he was confused or there was something lost in translation. Ice in Oklahoma? In late May? Nah.
I should’ve known better.
I dried off and made my way to a small coffee shop with Jeremy. We sipped on a piña colada smoothie and I checked in on Twitter. That’s when I got warning from all my local friends to duck and cover. Baseball sized hail was falling from the sky. Tornado sirens were being reported. It was surreal and confusing – sitting in the sun in a wet bikini and tan skin … watching my social media feeds as a disaster unfolded back home.
And a disaster it was. Reports of children trapped in a school that was hit – third graders being forced to hold up falling walls and basements full of kids flooding. I felt like I might throw up. In that moment I felt so far away from home.
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Jeremy’s family lives right near tornado alley but they’re all okay. The school that was hit is just blocks from my nephews’ school. We ourselves live about 10 minutes north of Moore, Oklahoma and our house was untouched. We’re thankful that our families and friends are safe and sound. Thanks to each and every one of you who reached out to make sure we were okay.
Oklahoma still has some healing to do. Us Okies have become really good at coming together in the face of tragedy but please send love and good vibes this way. If you feel inclined to donate money the American Red Cross is always a good bet. If you know of any other ways to help (donations, blood drives, etc.) please leave more information in the comments.
I started practicing Ashtanga yoga when I was 15 years old. This was before Lululemon was around, before you could find yoga mats at Target, and just before Madonna had made yoga trendy. I hadn’t quite hit puberty and was rocking hemp necklaces with shells braided into them. I practiced with my teacher Andrew (who took the photo above) on a grimy green carpet in a tiny studio in Norman next to a pasta shop. With a background in gymnastics it was fascinating to see just how bendy I could make my body.
At around 20 years old I fell out of my practice. I was broke, busy, and none of my punk rock friends practiced yoga. After I graduated college I tried picking up an awkward class or two at the local YMCA and that’s when I learned that not all yoga is created (or taught) equal. Late last summer – and a whole decade later – I eased back into my practice by exploring different studios and styles – from restorative yin to Ashtanga to hot Bikram-style to prana flow. I’ve been practicing almost daily and have been regretting ever falling out of my yoga practice. But what I’ve learned is that I needed a decade to build some strength and spirituality that has nothing to do with how far I can get my leg behind my head. I’ve learned that yoga is about connecting my spirit to my body with breath. Yoga is a moving meditation that can happen while I’m practicing asana or even on a spin bike. It’s about brining intention to my practice and my life – on and off the mat.
Do you practice yoga? I’d love to hear your experience with it.
Jeremy and I were loading up on mangos and avocados at the local market when we ran into our new friend Darrin painting his office from a pea green to a warm blue. He was covered in paint – as was his Dauchsund, Osa. We exchanged a bit of small talk and he invited us back out on his sailboat for a sunset cruise the next day. Why not?
Darrin had just finished a day charter when we arrived at the marina with his German girlfriend, Gabby. The sailboat was filled to the brim with drunk sunburnt Aussies – slamming back just one more shot of tequila before departing from their day adventure – sharing with us their jellyfish battle wounds and promising us we were about to have the time of our lives. Oh, we know all about it.
The party crew left and there was a quieter bunch of us left on the boat – some people I recognized from around town. We chatted about alternative medicine, meditation, food, and iPhone photography. Yes… these are my people. During this evening ride we were really able to set sail – and I felt the magic that happens when the sails catch the wind. It was a powerful, fast, and bumpy ride. I was behind the wheel, trying to maintain any sort of sea sickness I may or may not have been feeling, when Darrin insisted I go sit up on the bow. And so I did. I’m still feeling the waves today.