One morning, I went snorkelling in the nearby lagoon. I had only ever seen it in movies and was wholly unprepared by how mindblowing it could be. In a way, I was glad. Under the soft morning sun, the vibrant lagoon was motivation enough to get used to the intrusive breathing piece my eyes remained trained on the seabed, seeking the differently-shaped corals and the schools of fish that whizzed by. Nothing could have prepared me for the sudden dip in the seafloor, where only the bigger fish dared to venture. But I was a big fish too. Floored by the sheer magnitude of the ocean, there was a sense of dissonance&mdashI was content yet excited floating yet unmoved. Like just how vast the world was, and yet, at that moment, I was the only one who existed.