I imagine myself in a rocking chair, eyes closed, soothed by the slow rocking motion. Add the soft music playing. Hmmm… not so perfect.
Try again. I imagine a baby cuddled up in the cradle, calmed by the softest humming of a heart filled with joy. Hmmm… idyllic.
Me again. The rocking chair transformed… a cradle. I could stretch or curl up my legs as I please. The music playing. A book, a movie, a conversation, a memory. Anything and everything. Perfect.
My rocking cradle. To borrow from Barney, my own “idea bench”.