Of the many reasons I’ve been told to travel, one sticks out to me: it will allow me to “find myself.” I hear that phrase frequently enough even outside discussion of travel that it gives me pause. It’s probably due to my age and the position that I have in the world, and it’s a quick catchphrase to encompass an enormous and very subjective concept — one that I cannot hope to really cover in a column without issuing a bombardment of trite phrases akin to it: “discover happiness” and “get connected with your environment.” These might mean something in passing, but without exploring will feel like quick notes in a longer speech that I don’t have the experience or time to give.

So I’ll just say this: I love travel, but I dislike how much I crave it. I’m not constantly yearning for French beaches and Swiss Alps, but the “grass is always greener” phrase often comes from a romanticized version of what I am seeing. When cabin fever sets in, and life feels too routine, I want to be elsewhere. I do think that everyone deserves breaks, but I’m worried that we don’t always want them for the right reasons, or that we dismiss other options that can garner the same effect.

I remember watching a docuseries my sophomore year called “Wild China” (it’s on Netflix and it is amazing), and just being floored by the beauty and thinking to myself, as I stretched across the couch and picked up the remote, “I want to go there.”

And sometimes a bright sandy beach in Florida or a rainforest in Asia is exactly what’s going to do the trick for us. When you go from couch-bound to beach bum many memories can be made, and travelling can prove extremely therapeutic. But travelling doesn’t always have to happen because of a 14-hour plane trip, or a drive-all-day-and-all-night expedition. There are many international visits that remain on my bucket list, but I was sick and tired of feeling sick and tired of my neighborhood. Especially because I hadn’t even explored it that deeply.

So I went to the Purple Gloves club on campus. I went to Swing Dance club. I signed up for an improv class in Minneapolis. I’ve been going to stores even if my curiosity is not ignited upon first glance. I tried out to host a video segment of In Depth for TommieMedia. I’m not quite sure if I’m trying to find myself, but most of the time, the itch scratched during travel is, at the very least, only nudged during these activities. Perhaps that metaphor didn’t make it sound too appealing, but it is better than to just let the wound fester (more unappealing imagery).

A lot of the time, travel forces us into change. We travel to a new locale, where we know little about what is around us, and thus everything feels new. It can be hard to replicate that feeling when we’re in the same place. The change becomes more voluntary, and it may be more difficult for anything to feel new.

It’s important to see the world, but when we get bitten by the travel bug, and there’s no reprieve overseas, we might be able to find something just next door.

Jeffrey Langan can be reached at lang5466@stthomas.edu.