Love the World
It took us years to figure out how but we finally did it. We took meaningful time off work. We laughed, we cried! We read and learned, once again, our lessons.
This summer, we embarked on our first Radical Sabbatical, an idea that’s been percolating for years, one we looked upon with starry eyes. In late 2025, we made a goal of it. We promised ourselves and each other we’d take purposeful time off, as much as we could stand.
We agreed to start reasonably—three weeks. In the summer! Historically the Slow Season. We’d plan around it all year, give our clients plenty of notice, and work smart to make it work.
Write it on your heart so you never forget: intention + thoughtful action get the goods.
July came around, we wrapped up a few projects, lined up a few more for our return, and friends, we got to LIVING.
Nermin got married. The ceremony was beautiful and the bride was stunning, resplendent, beloved. Kristin cried a lot. Nermin’s lovely librarian whisked her off to Fiji for sunshine, sweetness, and long hummingbird days filled with the sea and snacks and star fish. Kristin went on a whirlwind tour of Chicago, London, Bristol and the southwestern coast of Ireland. There was music, flowers, fish and chips, cliffs and pints and plenty of horses, five thousand year old monuments nestled just off narrow rural roads. In Ireland, the Palestinian flag waved from boats and stores and pubs and street lights. We left our laptops at home.
Each from our own cozy perch, in different corners of the world, we read, napped, turned over rocks, swam in new seas, and brought back everything we could. Two pairs of wool socks and a hand-darned hat, a snowglobe, a small collection of seashells, a tin of butter biscuits, a blue shawl, one hundred books. And of course, the many lessons.
Tell us about the creative obituary—what is it? How did it come into existence?
Nermin
I struggled at first with the feeling of not being useful. Of course that’s something we’re conditioned toward. Leaving work behind for three continuous weeks may not seem all that radical, but it certainly felt like a brave move for a two-person studio—we do everything from new business development and scheduling to design and brand tending! But it was so important for us to clear the calendar, to be where our feet are, fully embodied. To be children of the moment.
Kristin
On day two of sabbatical, a friend reached out about an RFP her extremely rad organization had just released, hoping we might submit a proposal (for a project scheduled to kick off before we were even back in office!). For half a day, I fretted about it—how could we make it work? Could I write a proposal on my iPad Mini? Facilitate a meeting from a bed-and-breakfast on a farm in Doolin? I slept on it and upon waking realized: no way. The timing wasn’t right! The stars? Unaligned. I decided to have faith in the future, to turn this “no” into a “not now.”
SHIMMERS + SPARKS
Nermin
We spent a full week among the vibrant, textured coral reefs of Davui, a tiny, magical island in Fiji, struck by deep awe and childlike delight. Imagine thirty different types of fish, swimming right past your cheeks! One rainbow-hued, translucent fish took my breath away. A bright blue starfish the size of a frisbee made me gasp. We met a family of four from Belgium—by the end of the week, we shed tears while hugging goodbye. The universe is so filled with wondrous, marvelous creations, and humans are hard-wired to make connections. It’s wonderful what happens when we pull away from the screens and seek.
Kristin
In Chicago, we saw Rush play and in London, attended a staging of Much Ado About Nothing at the Globe Theater. In Bristol, my husband tore an apple in half with his hands and we shared it with the neighbor’s mare. In Kerry, we held and fed a freaking HAWK. No matter where you go, there are animals, and though we may not share a language, we share a planet. I loved these moments of mutual curiosity. In Ireland, we learned the custom of Craic—the expectation of chitchat, lively yapping, constant banter—a social custom of connection through friendly repartee. It was heavenly, these big, memorable days punctuated by unforgettable encounters and sparkling conversations.
TIME SLOWS DOWN, SPACE OPENS UP
Kristin
Once we arrived in Cork, time slowed down and the days opened up. The roads were tiny, our eyes were large. We spoke to strangers everywhere, laughed a lot, and drank one million Guinness. My goodness, how it rules to feel the days take a new shape! We were intentional about our time, but also created space to let the day take us where it might, following our nose to the next delight.
Nermin
The clear calendar was dizzying at first. I can't recall the last time I finished a novel! I’ve been inhaling spiritual books, parenting guides, self-help, and design pedagogy articles. What a joy it was to sink into a couch with a good fictional character I could see myself in. We spent a week in heaven: eating, snorkeling, snoozing, playing Scrabble, getting lost in our books, dilly-dallying, and waving ‘Bula!’ to anyone who passed by.
WHAT WE’RE LEAVING BEHIND
Nermin
No more stuffing the day with guilt-driven tasks during lulls in the week, just because it feels wrong to not feel busy. No delaying the stroll, the stretch, or body check-in in favor of creating and checking off one more task on the list. Practice embodiment always. It’s not something we have to earn! It’s a practice, and practice needs repetition. I want to relish the lulls, not rush toward productivity. The next thing is always coming.
Kristin
For a studio that advocates for the four-day work week, we sure do work seven days a week a lot. This sabbatical really drove home how important time off is for our mental, spiritual, and creative health. The three-day weekend allows time and space for rest, for play, and for progress on other fronts—creative and domestic projects, community-building, care-taking. Pretty vital to the practice of staying alive. The more focused I am during the work week (i.e. the less susceptible I am to common work-from-home distractions), the more probable a genuinely restful weekend becomes. No more “I’ll get it done this weekend.” NO. Get it done Monday through Thursday. Then rest, baby, rest. Your work will thank you.
Embodiment isn’t something we have to earn. It’s a practice, and practice needs repetition.
ON OUR SHELVES
We did some READING. Kristin inhaled The Crying Book by Heather Cristle and Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan (still get misty just thinking about it). She also found a used copy of Jane Austen’s first collection of short stories, written when she was just fifteen, Love and Friendship, while Nermin relished her time with Nura Maznavi’s Yours, Eventually. In between all the crying, Kristin also read Peter Neville’s A Traveller’s History of Ireland, while traveling through Ireland, which is a pretty good way to understand where your feet are, whose land you’re on, and what it took to keep it.
