Thanks Dad

My Dad said this to me today. He has always said it. But I never knew how to think about it.

It had been years since I heard it.

Something like:

"I find at times my mind will wind from one place to another. My mind and I we are not one. Instead he is my brother."

I am necessarily a stranger to myself.

I am not my mind.

I don't know how I accomplish my thinking.

When I think, I don't know how to not think.

When I'm not thinking, I don't know how to think.

I own a copy of Heidegger's What Is Called Thinking? and would really like to read it.