I’ve spoken about it before, my romance with the sea. I went there again today, on my way home from work after a long week. I was wearing all my motorcycle gear and carrying a heavy helmet, but the moment I stepped onto the sand, the second that scent of salt and water and seaweed hit my nose, it was like everything else just faded away. Any weight I was carrying, any worry niggling at the back of my mind, any muscle squeezed tight from stress and long days at a computer… the sea just carried it all away.

I never feel so calm as when I’m by the sea. I never feel so connected with the invisible.

My brother lives away from the coast. He’s used to it — we grew up inland, dreaming of water. But he’s like me — whenever he has the chance he gravitates to the sea. We caught up with him and his girlfriend the other week, something we don’t get to do very often, and we did it the Hancock way: on the water.

Just like a hundred family holidays, my brother and I went adventuring on the sea.

It’s in our blood.

My critique partner, Shari, is the same way.

@bethanyrsmith When the ocean has a piece of our soul, we can not help but feel connected to it’s offerings. #seaglasslove

— Shari Green (@sharigreen) January 28, 2014

She sent me the most amazing gift this week. Sea glass from her home on Vancouver Island, all the way on the other side of the world.

Sometimes I get sad I don’t live close to my critique partners. I can’t see them to commiserate or celebrate. We’ve sent countless emails and DMs but I’ve never heard their voices. But you know what? The only thing between Shari and me is the sea.

I’ve crossed that ocean before and I’ll do it again. Next January I’ll get to see the islands that inspired the Sea Story and I’ll get to see some of the people who helped me become a good enough writer to bring it to life.

On good days and bad days, when I’m close to the people I love and when I’m far away, I’ll go to the sea, and I’ll feel peace.