Second Home

I’ve been thinking about the connection between the mind, the body and ultimately its relation to our soul; I’m trying to make sense of their overlap, of the space that lives between them.

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Second Home

by Regan Smith

• • •

My mind has vacated, withdrawing up into the sky, to watch the world as a spectator; 
as the rain pours onto the earth below, I meditate in the heavy haze. 

Lungs lined with dew, skin saturated like petals in the morning; 
the bottom of my feet are met with sure footing by the absence, freedom found at this elevation. 

And as my body settles back with gravity, I steal a slice of this space, 
holding a reality that surpasses a daydream.

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Photography is by Farrah Emami.

Columbus

Ricky and I transitioned back to Ohio, two days ago, after living in Nashville for almost four years. We left with nothing but gratitude for Nashville, and it forever has a piece of our heart. Now in Columbus, my mind’s capacity is filled with the current day, this current joy. I’m so thankful for this place–my once called home, now called home again.

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Columbus

By Regan Smith

• • •

Columbus met me
with full yellow blooms
and weepy grey skies.

She was once my patient mother,
when I had first arrived,
and called her my home
six years ago.

She was gentle,
stroked my hair,
let me cry as I
healed from hurt,
and purely listened.

She watched me
get married,
taught me how
to steady my lifestyle,
and would sing me
lullabies in the thick
of the forest bed.

She let me leave,
sending me with
nothing but love.

During my absence,
I learned discipline,
firm teaching that
truth and love
should never be
untwined; rewarded
with strength and
responsibility.

And now,
four years later,
I cross state lines,
landing back in
my mother’s arms.

And while she’s
thankful I’m coming
home, she knows that
I’m not returning solely
as a daughter,
rather a mother myself.

I’ve fallen pregnant
with dreams and visions,
the beginning of a
lineage that will stretch
across the world;
and now I wait patiently
to give birth, saying
a prayer every morning,
preparing my mind
and my home.

And again, she’s gentle,
as I ask how to nurse and
nurture these newborn
dreams that will
come to fruition,
and take full form.

Paradise

Those that I have a personal relationship with or who have been following my life through Instagram or Twitter know that I recently traveled to Hawaii with my husband (Ricky) for a recess. I will forever be an open-book, and wanted to briefly share a few encounters of being away with an emphasis on returning home. 

It was an amazing happening to be able to visit a land in which I have never witnessed, alongside my love, growing our experiences together. We were able to escape the everyday duties, chores and obligations, with opportunity to explore multiple Hawaiian islands.

There is something special in surpassing the tourist regions—a rawness and authenticity that comes with each mile driven past the last blinking traffic light. These are the ventures that we sought out, even if it meant walking by foot or learning the island’s public bus system. We perched ourselves among the Eucalyptus trees, popping macadamia nuts purchased from a local marketplace store. We were able to plan our own adventures each morning.

We experienced a rush of water, from the word’s rainiest peak, down our backs as we drifted down its runoff. 

We went snorkeling by a crater, with water so clear the depth from the surface to ocean floor made me anxious. This forced me to command my body to be calm, which was an empowering revelation. We found the other’s hand beneath the water’s surface and pointed out exotic fish, laughing underwater and ultimately getting saltwater in our nose; these were salty-sweet moments. 

We climbed across a rocky edge of a cliff, grasping the volcanic rocks for balance as the ocean crashed behind us. Little crabs scurried around the soggy moss beneath our feet. This adrenaline-inducing climb brought us to an uninhabited piece of land that quietly overlooked the ocean, interrupted by the waves smacking against a small canyon. In this moment, I felt small amidst the massive mountains and deep blue waters. I felt close to my accomplice that endured this crazy exhibition with me. 

We flew to 13,000 feet within the air and jumped off the airplane to experience a true birds-eye view of Oahu—falling towards the mountains and ocean—catching a glimpse of the whales coming up for air, splashing with their babies submerged by the vast Pacific. We saw the island of Maui within the distance as we sank through clouds. The feeling I encountered is what I would imagine rainbows to feel. 

My mind experienced magic with each encounter. These are the lands, and the moments that I will daydream of. After about a week and a half, we were set to return home. 

Aside from the jet lag and 13 hour flight, I was looking forward to coming home. With past cruises that Ricky and I have taken, I had felt an ache with their end. It was a feeling of physical resistance in rebellion of going back to regular life, the mundane. 

As I sat within the turbulent air train, I analyzed what had inspired the switch in emotion. Apart from coming home to Nashville, rather than Ohio, I started to account the acknowledgment of awareness within my routine. I noticed that over time I have learned to scatter gratitude throughout each concurrence of living and task—creating a positive perception on every aspect within the everyday.

Where I reside now, is the home where I feel safe with space to create. This little loft has been allotted to art—here I write, paint, letter and upload tiny works like these to you, reader. Surrounded by the fragrance of sweet honey and citrus, I am able to expound upon these works while developing and translating them to multiple mediums. I share them with my handsome husband as he sits on the love-seat, leaning his weight onto its shoulder with interest.

This is home to a few of my closest friends, with the roads leading up to their homes memorized by habit. Their souls are lined with gold accents and natural light. With the aroma of freshly ground coffee and vegan-baked goods, we dig deep into conversation. It is where the bulb lights hang within the church I love, along with its community. 

Here, is where inspiration can be found through a blanket laid out within the backyard, carpeted by green grass with an open novel or notebook. The act of refreshing the mind with a quiet getaway within the forest, surrounded by Sugar Maple and Bur Oak trees.

This is where I have been challenged to grow further than what meets the eye. Truly recognizing the subconscious and altering its automatic release, confronting myself to recognize and live in-line with the letters my creator wrote. 

This is where my husband and I have drawn closer to one another—for the love we have has been cultivated through the the day-to-day. The struggles contain the conversations that evoke greater unity, and deeper understanding of ourselves and one another. The gentle pauses and soft smiles, inspired by nothing except love for the other.

I loved breathing in the Hawaiian air, but I love coming back. For where I live is my own, personal paradise.