As soon as I smell the ocean, I instantly crave fresh fish. Not unique I’m sure. I feel so much spiritual connection with the ocean and the beach. Many times when I’ve felt I’d lost my way, I would retreat to the ocean for the answers and find my way again. The serenity and constant crashing of the waves, knowing that no two are the same, brings strength and confidence. To me, if the ocean embraces change, then so must I. One day, six weeks after giving birth to my youngest child, I had him strapped to my belly in a Baby Bjorn. Asleep and breathing peacefully, I walked him along the beach with my feet in the breaking waves, mulling over some challenge I was facing at the time, and looking for answers. Listening quietly for celestial guidance, suddenly a fish – a small snapper – flopped onto my foot carried from the waves. With just the curling up of my toes, I caught this fish, bent down and picked him up by the tail. The entire time, my baby stayed sleeping, yet in my clench fingers was a fish flipping back and forth desperately until he stopped. In an almost paralyzed state, he was alive, but very still. Imagine the sight of a bikini clad mom with a sleeping infant strapped to her, carrying in her bare hand a fresh caught fish. As I walked the beach, full of amazement, I passed a line of fishing poles from which these fishermen were catching nothing. I knew this fish was a sign, all mine and I intended to eat it with respect! Once home I took that fish, scaled it, filleted it, and sautéed it lightly. I ate it with the most reverence for a piece of food I’ve ever experienced. I was keenly aware of the spirit of the fish and the message I had been gifted.