https://images.hive.blog/DQmXbmF1JFpdY2KKZ5z5DuQJsctJBfnfVFX38bRVWm3ztcL/chair-7618320_1280.jpg
[Pixabay](https://pixabay.com/photos/search/chair/)
The chair is an object that bears burden of finality, terms that turn a courtroom to a place of death. To the instructions meant to stop a heart accurately, the defendant's then walk had chain on their ankles dragging to the leather and metal.
Chairs, however, possess other kinds of authority. Decades of great minds have worn smooth the seat the professor sits on. The chair of the therapist where secrets pour like water. The boardroom seat commanding kingdoms. Once in charge with terror, the electric chair was supplanted with needles.
We tell kids to take a chair, therefore be little, be still, sit down. We advise executives to take the chair, by which we mean rise up, command, choose. Context is everything.
In some narratives, seats are gateways: swinging seats that bring us from one realm to another, office chairs spinning us into fresh worlds. But the chair absorbs everything in that last room, with observers viewing via glass. It needs breath, time, the possibility of redemption.