Books with stillness and connectedness

Jeez, books are magic.
On the train, I’ve just opened to a page in Tao Te Ching (translated by Stephen Mitchell) that reads:
“the feeling of deep connectedness, of knowing exactly what to do, beyond any conscious intention. You submerge yourself beneath the words, in a very still place, and you listen intently.”
Mitchell is describing the trance he was in in crafting the pages that preceded the epilogue.

Maybe such deep connectedness was this morning between 8:15 and 9:25. It was so on the beachhead, too. And on the porch last night. in the park stargazing with Aaron and raspy friends.

Doors upon doors and doors. Abyss. Isolation and unity/ in paradox/ together.

Pops called and asked a question

Just spoke with Dad for 10 minutes or so. [my sense of time is so screwy as I open, and embrace differently. Time is abundant. My following my heart rather than minding with my brain]

Anyhow, Dad called twice yesterday. Both messages asked me to call him asap. Both times he said how he had a question for me. His question?

Did I want he and Theopolis to come out and help me pack up?

I am awestruck. Into silence. In such tenderness, generosity and love. Offerings that have not been a common occurrence with him. Rather than turn him down altogether, I pivoted the offer by saying that I’d like a raincheck once I’m settled in the Fall. He checked the raincheck.