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Yesterday morning, I got dressed for work. I put on jeans, a shirt, a pair of ballerina flats, and checked my bag for my notebook, pens, travel card, office pass, wallet, keys, and mobile phone. I looked up my bus schedule before I left the house. I sent an email while walking to the bus stop. Only the small scars on my hands, the dry, roughed skin on my palms, and my disconcerting tan (even with sunblock) remain as physical reminders of my extraordinary time out at sea last week.

Coming back is more than putting on a different skin. I forgot what bird song sounded like. I forgot what traffic and dust felt like. I’m making more typos than usual as I try to get my work affairs back in order. My appetite is adjusting to city life again – I’m eating less and craving less carbs and heavy foods. I’m starting to sleep in even after the sun comes up.

It feels nice back in the comfort of home, the company of friends and family. But a part of me will always be longing for the simplicity of life on a dive boat. We rise, dive, eat, rest, dive, rest, eat, dive, rest, eat, dive, eat, rest, sleep. And the next day is exactly the same. Life centers around conversation with fellow divers, strangers from all over the world. It's surprisingly old-fashioned, for such a technical activity. We gather around a meal or a drink and share experiences of what we have seen, where we come from, and how we found ourselves on the same boat 11 hours away from the nearest port. We talk about currents, diving against currents, reefs, the weather, how not to spook a turtle, how to keep our gear in good shape, good enough to last a decade at least.

There’s something wonderfully real and tangible about all this - my day-to-day life is filled with fretting over the unknown: am I doing this right, am I doing enough, am I doing too little, should I start thinking about this, I need to cut down on that. Reducing my daily concerns to resting, eating, and diving well is such joy. I felt the same way when I climbed mountains years ago - life was simply finding the best spot to pitch a tent, starting a fire, a cold refreshing drink from a spring.

I will be holding on to the clarity, the fullness, the satisfaction of days like this. I'm back to being a city girl again, with my "Community" addiction and my ability to compose emails on the go and skimming headlines on Twitter while sipping coffee. But I like to think that a part of me is always standing barefoot on the deck of a ship, the sun in my eyes, wind in my hair, staring into the endless blue in anticipation of the beauty beneath, knowing that life can't get any simpler and any better than this.

P.S: Thanks for all the well wishes for my trip, it went beautifully.