Back in 2012, I made the move from Orlando, FL to Atlanta, GA. I was so excited to be in a new place with a new job, a new apartment, and lots of new faces. After taking six years to complete my undergraduate degree and living in Orlando pretty much all my life, this felt like an essential fresh start.

However, even though there was mostly a sense of excitement surrounding this move, if I’m being honest, in the beginning, there were also times I felt a bit intimidated by stepping into the responsibilities of this new life-stage known as “adulting.” Sure, I’d been sort of “practicing” throughout college, but this was the real thing. I was certainly ready and capable, but it didn’t always feel that way. There were definitely times I experienced the pressure and anxiety of being a beginner.

So, in those moments of overwhelm, how did I deal? Well, here’s what I would do: I’d go to Target. Like, the store.

Now, you might assume this was a retail-therapy move; I assure you, it wasn’t. After all, one of my adult responsibilities was to stick to a budget. Instead, I went to Target because Target was familiar. Maybe I wasn’t yet able to navigate my way around my new city, but, believe you me, I knew how to navigate the aisles of Target. While I’ve noticed this changing slightly over the past 10 years, at the time and to my knowledge, the layout of each and every Target store was pretty much the same.

I knew exactly where to go and how to find the toothpaste. The candles. The sweaters. The laundry detergent. The toys. The books. The snacks. And that was oddly comforting because, I guess Target sort of reminded me of home.

While I couldn’t articulate it as this back then, what I realize now is that, in a way, those Target trips were a sort of centering practice for me. In the midst of all the new, I needed a little bit of the known.

Sometimes, that sort of familiarity can be grounding. Steadying. Sometimes it’s exactly what we need. That is true. And yet, as they say, there can also be too much of a good thing.

In my experience, there is such a thing as a life that is “overly-familiar,” and it can often feel stale, monotonous, mundane. The days all run together because the days all look the same. I don’t know about you, but whenever life starts to feel that way for me, I make a sharp inward turn and become trapped and tangled in my own world, my own head, my own circumstances, my own preferences. And with that, I find I experience increasing bitterness, cynicism, and even some hopelessness. I wonder if you can relate.

Throughout the gospels, Jesus shared about the life he hoped we would experience as his followers. He didn’t say it would be a carefree life without trouble or sacrifice. But he also didn’t say a stale, bitter, rigid, overly-familiar life was his aim. Instead, he shared about a life that’s abundant, deep, rich, free, and open to the leading of God’s Spirit. And I’m learning that sometimes, it’s the unfamiliar that helps us remember the life we’re meant to live.

So how do we lean into the unfamiliar when we start to feel stuck in our very own lives?

Back in remind{h}er 72: Practice Getting Lost, I briefly shared about a very practical way we can do just that. And today, I’d like to circle back to it and suggest that when we’re feeling bored or stalled or disillusioned, maybe, a helpful practice might be to get out of town. Literally. Maybe literal travel, actually leaving what’s physically familiar, can be its own sort of spiritual practice, breathing new life into our souls, and helping us remember what, maybe, we forgot.

Now, when I say “travel,” I think it’s important to note that a change of scenery can look lots of different ways. And it’s also important to keep in mind that travel as spiritual practice is not really about the timeframe, the budget, or the distance of the trip; it’s about what we discover along the way and how the Spirit is at work within us as we go.

So what might this look like? Well, here are a few ideas:

If means allow, maybe you take the big trip. You might roadtrip across the country or jet-set around the world. Maybe you learn about and experience a new-to-you culture. Or explore a different landscape. Or depending on the destination, maybe you approach your travel as a pilgrimage of sorts. While trips like these are not super frequent for me, I can say that when I’ve said yes to this kind of opportunity, I always return with a fresh perspective, a deeper understanding, and a growing appreciation for all this world has to offer.

Maybe you decide to attend a retreat or conference centered around something that interests you or that you find meaningful. For me, this usually looks like a writing conference of some sort. In fact, the call and concept for this very podcast began after time away at a conference like this. These kinds of opportunities are a great way to not only get out of town, but to dream a bit, connect with others who share your interests, and gain new inspiration for things you care about and enjoy. They help us remember not to neglect the things we love in the midst of everyday life.

Maybe you take a personal retreat. This can be especially beneficial after particularly busy seasons that leave us feeling depleted, worn out, and out of sorts. They are also a great option if you have a decision to make or are feeling a bit unsure in life. In a way, personal retreats help us come back to ourselves and pay attention to the movement of God in the deepest parts of our souls. Ideally, a trip like this might look like spending a couple nights away in a place that feels refreshing to you. You might bring a book or a journal, and you might consider going “off-the-grid” during the retreat—no cell phone, social media, email, etc. Opportunities like this are a great way to rest and reset, body and soul.

Finally, maybe you simply take a day trip. Brad and I are fortunate to live relatively close to the Florida coast, so sometimes, we’ll drive a couple hours to get there and spend the day at the beach. Maybe you live close to the mountains or a lake or a river that you can spend the day enjoying. Or maybe you live in a large metropolitan area; you might choose to spend the afternoon in a coffee shop on the other side of the city. Or maybe you live in a small town in the middle of the nowhere. You might go to the next small town over and explore. Even leaving your immediate neighborhood could count. The point of a day trip is a quick reset. A reminder that there are people and landscapes and communities and opportunities beyond our own little bubbles. And sometimes engaging and exploring what’s right outside our zip code is exactly what we need.

This list for travel as spiritual practice is certainly not exhaustive, but hopefully, it provides some helpful ideas to get you started or to help you switch things up. Aside from the personal retreat, which is probably best to do on your own, any of these trips can be taken solo or with others. And as a spiritual practice, it might be neat to consider how you can incorporate them on a somewhat regular basis.

Trips like these—long or short, near or far—shape us, form us, refresh us, stretch us, inspire us, and teach us. And they remind us of the beauty, the nuance, the work of God all around us and beyond us.

So today, if you’re feeling crippled by familiarity, consider this your invitation to get out of town. And as you go, maybe carry these questions with you: What might you notice? Who might you meet? And how might you arrive back with a fresh and more full perspective? May we remember and lean into the rich and abundant life God calls us to as we continue to become the people God created us to be.