Recently, the word stagnant has had a bitter taste on my tongue. The sound of it echoes in my thoughts and haunts me in my sleep. The word itself makes me cringe with frustration that I have stayed relatively still my entire life, never really experiencing another part of this earth for long enough to gain new and flavorful perspectives of how others live, what different wildlife sounds like, or how novel fragrances feel on my nose. I have perpetually breathed in the same air, recycling the same breaths with every inhale-exhale loop I make. I have been utterly and regrettably stagnant.

There are 24,860 miles that run this planet, yet here I am. Existing in the same stretch of miles my entire life, occasionally venturing off for a span of a few short days. You always want what you can’t have. But is a change of scenery too much to ask for? I know this place—this place that I call home—like the back of my hand. Arguably, I know it in more detail than the back of my hand. And while having a cozy home base is important, so is exposing yourself to the terrifyingly beautiful feeling of unfamiliarity when traveling to new places.

I crave that moment of anxiety before embarking on a new adventure, and the rush of adrenaline that follows it. I ache to feel the sense of independence, accomplishment, and fulfillment as I suddenly realize I have done the impossible, I have catapulted myself far from the sour stagnancy that I have known my whole life, and into motion. I suppose it comes down to this: I am homesick for the ends of the earth I visit in my dreams. I need to rid myself of the horrible taste of stagnancy and replace it with the decadent relish of travel.

The first step is always the hardest. It’s like dangling your foot out of an airplane and hoping that your parachute opens. You can choose to stay in the comfort of that plane and always wonder how the air would have felt against your face as you jumped, or you can take the precarious leap and find out first-hand. What most do not seem to consider is that the plane you find so safe and promising can plummet to your death. And then what? You have lived your whole life afraid to take a risk, only to wind up with unanswered questions and no time left to answer them.

So, if you are reading this, I hope you gather just enough courage to take that step, leap off the plane, and explore the wonders this planet provides. There will never be a more perfect time to go than now because the challenges you will likely face along the way will leave a beautifully wise imprint on your perspective of the world that you could not possibly have acquired in the confines of your stagnant existence.