I'm obsessed with this phrase. It sounds like a paradox but it's so much more.
Instagram is such a great place for travel inspiration, bringing light to formerly unknown corners of the world and showcasing overexposed destinations in a new light. Yet... in another way, it's an unhealthy breeding ground for envy.
Where is this narrative that a "plane ride should be the introduction" to every journey coming from? Who says that you need to capture aerial views from a mountain in Germany and not a short hike that's right in your city? This idea that inspiration can't be found where you are is unsettling. It's what had me fidgeting to travel without a care for the now.
I can't say that I've "lived" in enough cities to determine that the idea of #stayandwander works anywhere. Of course living on the coast makes adventuring in your own home a lot easier. San Francisco is so close to so many stunning places. Point Reyes. Mt. Tam. Big Sur. Untouched corners of the world that give a glimpse into a life of simplicity.
This is my first step to discovering a routine of finding home, no matter where I go. If you can't love where you must be now, appreciation then comes by default, not truth.