I think I am starting to figure something out ... well, I'm working on it.

L has been talking about this writer, Jodi Picoult, who he first heard about on NPR. She writes commercial fiction.  My husband explained her process to me as, she takes a topic which she is interested in and has her characters work out the various points of view.  We bought a copy of Lone Wolf, and I read it Monday.  He thinks her way of looking at this, in this case, the way of wolves, and working with it as a metaphor for that (what would the pack do? in this case - my over simplification), is similar to my operating style.

Flying has come to provide a metaphoric language which works like a native tongue for me.  When I can't quite understand (or believe) something I re-imagine it within an aviation vignette.  I spent the day yesterday thinking about an airplane in distress.  I have been in distress of late ... .  It was interesting to find that what I may have perceived to be the main problem was not actually the presenting, or most pressing problem.  In my little scenario my role was to handle communications and monitor the health of the flight.  In my little scenario the airplane was being tossed about by significant weather ... the radar was out and communications were pretty well fried ... the plane was also low on fuel.  This pretty well reflects how I actually feel lately ... feeling is okay ... right?  In my family one of my primarily jobs has been to translate intentions from the tangled-up words which fly around between individuals and are frequently misunderstood.  Everybody needs to feel that they are at least understood.

Here's a sorta goofy example ... We were at the lake and a wonderful dog lives a couple of doors down ... Holly is a ball retrieving machine.  She worked her way through the small crowd, very sweetly requesting the ball toss assist.  Pretty much everyone complied.  On the drive home we were talking about what a great dog she is ... a treasure really.  I said it kind of amazed me that she could so graciously adapt to so many different styles of ball tossing and my husband said ... what do you mean?  What I mean is there were a lot of different styles of toss going on ... some went for the long toss, others intentionally threw the ball into the bushes or into the water,  some people bounced the ball several times before tossing it, a few people needed to try to fake her out before they finally let go of the ball.  The dog demonstrated that she could catch a fly ball lost for a while in the sun, a skidding grounder ... a slow roller ... a fast ball right to the chops ... and she knew when it was time to move on to a fresh arm.  The fact that she had impressive skills was a story told early in the day by the balls I threw for her.  I was interested to observe the story the other throwers might tell of themselves.  Everyone had their way of throwing the ball and also of accepting the retrieved ball back before another throw.  That's not the entire tale, but there weren't any real surprises.  I'm not saying I understand any of the motivation behind the ball toss event ... just saying that it's a bigger story then the one of a ball in a dog's mouth.   Some people found joy in the activity ... other's covertly kicked at the dog when they were done.  Wow ... that is a lot of words for a tiny little ... I'm just trying to say the story is usually bigger then dog + ball, because while it is a dog story it's also a story of a person interacting with a dog via a ball.  Exhausting ... lol.

So ... I have seen translating, on request, as one of my main jobs in my family.  And ... I'm really tired of it.  I totally get why some messages didn't make it back from the battle front to the King's court.
We speak bunches of different languages here.  I'm going to put the 5 Love Languages book in the main bathroom.  Those who give a furry little rat's behind may thumb through it.

On the flight scenario I have communicated clearly and concisely to the captain that ... I see and believe we are low on fuel ... and that right here in this clear spot ... I suggest we focus on finding and redirecting our meager resources towards an alternate.  He says he's got this and I sincerely hope he does ... 'cause,  the hair on the back of my neck is telling me that it's more then just a story about a guy with his left hand on a stick.

Now that I am relieved of my duties as official translator, my husband is encouraging me to think about what I would really really really like to do with the luxury of this time.  He thinks rather then get a job, even just a little substitute teaching job, outside our home, that I should ... write a book.  A book of commercial fiction.  I don't know if I can do that ... if I can write a story that wants to be read.  I'm thinking about it.  I do have the luxury of doing pretty much anything I want to do for several hours each day.  That is a spectacular gift.  It would be a real shame to open it up and then just play with the box ... .