Reorganized by gravity

on paradise, parenthood, and ambition

Grace and I just returned from nearly a month in Costa Rica, which has become a second home for us. We wanted to see how it might feel to be there with our three-month-old baby, equipped with the most adorable passport photo you’ve ever seen.

I love Costa Rica. At this point, it’s part of who I am—I have work there, friends there, and it’s the soil where Grace and I fell into the wildest love following a retreat in the jungle. But this trip? This trip felt different. The charming unpaved roads now seemed like death traps for our fragile cargo. Mosquitos, once mere annoyances, became harbingers of fever. The heat, no longer a shirtless pleasure, was an oppressive force threatening our little dude’s delicate balance. And we both caught gnarly Central American stomach bugs that thoroughly logged us.