When I was little my sister told me that the human belly button secures a locked compartment, to keep your innards safe. When a doctor begins his or her practice, they are awarded a key. That way no scalawag can steal your liver.
Then I got older and began to notice the intricacies of driving. I assumed that there were secret markings by the road describing conditions, and other pertinent information to keep you safe. Actually they are called road signs and are in plain view.
Signage come in handy, it turns out. Speed limits, warnings about merging and the need to yield offer a heads up. Knowing the parameters prepares me for the dangers ahead. Who knows how many crashes they have prevented?
A friend suggested that having a conversation about a conversation.... before it starts... could be a good thing. Will this be a topic that is likely to speed up? Are there sharp curves to navigate? Could there be rocks falling? Is it slippery when wet?
Perhaps this is the time to drop a word like meta. But such verbiage implies a fully engaged cerebellum, which is not always the case when I am calling to John over my shoulder as I rush out the door.
A wise woman once told me that she precedes fragile conversations with a question.
"Is this a good time to talk?"
It strikes me as brilliant. Almost like scrutinizing the strategically placed road signs near, say, the Grand Canyon in a snow storm.
