We used to make forts in our room out of anything we could find. Pushed our beds closer together, draped a sheet across their frames, a rocking chair serving as an unstable wall. From the fort we would run strings, connecting the corners of the room so our toys never had to touch the ground. The tiny world in the sky at our eye level, rocking with the chair, adding a bit of danger with a comforting object. I always wondered why rocking chairs were so nice, why we enjoyed the sensation of rocking when in reality rocking is just falling. I watched our tiny world rock, fall, and then catch and then fall again, and my 6 year old self wondered why we find comfort in falling.