Something happens to us when we get into a hammock.

I’d like to think that hammocks were invented to get us off our feet and temporarily stop the world with their mesmerizing, gentle, back-and-forth motion.

No more thinking about what has to be fixed around the house, or why you dislike the annoying office colleague in the next cubicle, or what your significant other did or didn’t do to tick you off.

This is where soothing random thoughts come and go like waves on a beach.

Whether you’re in a hammock for five minutes or fifty, the effect is the same.

Quiet moments and smiles evoked from thoughts that are shared only within your own mind.

The ripple of breezes, carrying away any “should-haves” or “could-haves.”

The warmth of the sun punctuated by a chorus of birds engaged in their own talk show.

The rhythmic sound of your breaths you normally don’t bother listening to.

A vivid, romantic flashback with a past love.

And another one.

Hammocks allow you to think young even while you’re growing older.

Did I remember to mail that check? Do I care?

Hell no. It’s summer, and I’m happily horizontal.

WRITER’S NOTE:
Some sources credit Alcibiades, a student of the Greek philosopher Socrates, as being the inventor of the hammock. So the next time you climb into one, be happy it’s not called an Alcibiades.