Wanderlust isn’t about dissatisfaction with the present state of things (though it could have an undertone of that). And it isn’t about avoiding responsibility (though the person could have that as an ulterior motive). And it isn’t necessarily about travelling to a specific destination.
Wanderlust is the need to drink in the world. To move. To see a new place and to experience a new thing for its own sake.
For the past two or three months, wanderlust has been tickling the bottoms of my feet. In free moments, I began googling different places I’d like to see and how much a Greyhound bus ticket cost to go to San Diego, California or Portland, Oregon or Middle-of-Nowhere, Texas. I didn’t grow to hate my present surroundings or my current situation in life. It wasn’t so much boredom but a need to see something new.
So, for the first week of my new life as a housewife/writer, I went to the mountains.
I’ve been to this specific place before but never alone. And just because you’ve been to a place a couple of times doesn’t mean you have explored it. I did things on my own that I hadn’t done when with another person.
I saw all sorts of things I hadn’t seen before in that place.
And it filled up the well of creativity within me and eased the need to wander, to ramble, that was nesting in my gut.
I think this is an important part of the creative life. Writing isn’t done in a vacuum. Our lives inform our writing. I’ve found that, for myself, I tend to write better if I’ve seen or done something new, even if that’s just going down a road in my neighborhood that I haven’t gone down before. And I think it can refresh the spirit of anyone.
So, my advice is, a few times a year, go explore a place or travel somewhere new. Take a drive. There’s no need to set aside money or make travel plans.