Today held lots of tasks: unpacking, straightening, cleaning. In between, we reflected on a great many things about our trip:
The perspective one gains from traveling to an area that, if you get off the tourist path, shows you what you're missing, and what you take for granted. Not to mention, the frustration of being on the short end of a language barrier.
How an almost total lack of dairy for a week made a huge difference for both of us. Something akin to lactose intolerance never dawned on me... before this. This set us back on the path of more natural choices.
The thrill of acquiring a new skill that allows us to adventure into another world. Scuba diving was a childhood dream that was lost for one reason, and as an adult I feared to pick it up for others. I'm so glad I finally did. The challenge (more emotional than physical) had been a good one for me. The amazing depth of things to learn--from skills to technicals to biology--is thrilling.
The path I've taken to doing it has pushed me forward in terms of really being true to myself and others. You can't hide a thing when you're wrapped in a wet unitard. I've stopped hiding, and people care less than I ever imagined. (Or if they do care they stay the hell away, which is fine with me, too.) It forces accountability for me. I've stopped shying away from photos. I might hate them, but it's reality and if I don't like it... change it. Or, shut up and get on with life.
But seriously... I come home to find I only lost two pounds during that week? WTF? I was walking, running up and down stairs, diving... and not eating a whole lot (although the nightly margarita probably didn't help). Scot did point out that my legs are a different shape and my butt is in a different place, so there's likely been some muscle added that is the more meaningful change. But still.... geez. Give a girl a break.
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