I am writing this as I take a rest, at a quiet little hideaway, I found on the western shore of the dead sea. I don’t know why I came here.
I instinctively booked that last minute flight and travelled here.
I never thought about coming here before that day. I don’t even remember how I first learned about this place. It just popped up in my head like an unexpected error message on a computer screen.
Only that this felt so much better.
Most of the days, I just spend walking around. I leave footprints in the sand and watch the water wash them away.
I also started speaking to people. I met this guy called Jonas Kopp.
I listened to his stories for hours. Then he left and I felt 10 pounds lighter.
He triggered something in me. I can’t tell what it is. It took my body like an avalanche.
My hands are still shaking, as I write these lines.?
Somehow, these first days here left a feeling in my guts: Hope is a place.
A place near the dead sea.