The way home

Isi Bell
4 min readNov 11, 2019

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When I saw you, you were sitting on a brown park bench. It was November. The temperatures were icy and the sweeping wind made your hair look disheveled. A tear rolled down your red cheek. For a moment I doubted if I should intervene in your destiny, but your desperation made it impossible for me to leave you to yourself.

“Your suffering will not help you,” I said soberly.

“What … who are you?”, you asked me confused. “You do not know anything about me.”

“It’s not hard to see that you’re feeling lost in this world.”

As soon as I finished the sentence, you started to sob again.

“I don’t know where I belong.”, you said while another tear escaped your eye.

“I do things that I think are right. In order to be part of the society. I do things, because you just have to, as a responsible person. Day in, day out. And every day I feel like I’m losing myself a little bit more.’’

“There is a place called home.”, I answered.

“Home?’’

“Yes, home. It is a place where there is no suffering. Everything you do there happens with ease. Everything you do there has so much added value for humanity that your actions really fulfill you. Never again will you feel heavy, never again will you lose yourself. Because everything you do there arises from the purpose of your existence.’’

With big eyes you looked at me.

‘’How can I get to this home?’’, you asked me with a voice full of hope.

‘’It’s hard.’’, I mumbled honestly. ‘’It’s very hard to get there. It’s also very painful for me to see so many of your fellow human beings giving up just before they get there. That’s why I only share this secret with a few, selected creatures. Too often I was disappointed, and the gift of home was not appreciated.’’

Then you became curious and put yourself a little closer to me. Your attention gave me hope and I continued.

‘’This home, my child, it is full of love and warmth.’’

‘’How far is it from here, that home?’’

‘’It’s not far at all.’’, I answered, laughing. ‘’However, some people will need many years to get there, some just a second and others will never arrive.’’

‘’How sad!’’, you said sympathetically. ‘’Do you have the directions?’’

Again, you made me smile. How little you know, even though you already have all the knowledge in you!

‘’There is no direction.’’

‘’Then, how can I get there?’’, you almost asked in panic.

‘’I can tell you a few things that can help you to remember your home.’’

‘’To remember?’’, irritated, you looked at me. ‘’I can’t remember ever having been in that homeland, which is so beautifully described by you.’’

‘’You have been there before. But you forgot. You forgot because you are so distracted. You are distracted from your pursuit of material things, recognition, fame. You are distracted by your habits, your reaction patterns. You think all your desires and all your automatisms are you. And that’s why you’re losing yourself, my child. That’s why you feel alien, in your own world.’’

‘’And how can I manage to remember this homeland again?’’

‘’You have to go on a journey.’’

‘’On a trip?’’

‘’On a journey to yourself to become what you already are and unlearn what you think you are.’’

‘’That sounds paradoxical.’’

‘’What you think you are, are pure psychological limits that you have set for yourself. If you drop those limits, you will find out about everything around you. If you are in that state, you will be able to cope with everything through an eternal energy and love. And the path to your homeland will open almost by itself.’’

For a few minutes you sat beside me, lost in thought, until you finally looked at me, smiling.

‘’Thank you! And who are you?’’

‘’I am you.’’, I answered.

‘’You are me?’’, you asked me completely exited. ‘’But then I am you too?’’

‘’Exactly, only on a different level of consciousness, because I have found the home. I am here to raise the collective consciousness. Now it’s up to you to help me with this task. Find the home. And if you have found it, carry the beauty of this wisdom outward, into the world. This is of the utmost importance. Because your home is my home and only if each of us finds home, we will be able to experience the true happiness of that home.’’

These were my last words before I left you on the park bench on a cold November day.

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Isi Bell
Isi Bell

Written by Isi Bell

Trying to put on paper what my soul offers. (GERMAN) HABITS/EGO/LIFE/SPIRITUALITY/LOVE/SELF

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