Lambda Alpha Chi

The 6 by 6 goal dropped to the floor of the shed with a heavy thud. I wiped my hands, turned out the lights, and closed the door.
"Well, that's a wrap." By 2:00 pm, our fall woman's lacrosse playday had come to as crisp an end as it began. But not without a fair share of action over the course of the morning. Our players ran hard, buzzed with the excitement of W.I.L.D. to come, and led us to a powerful win over Truman State University, and a close loss to Missouri Baptist University.
But this is my blog, not the school newspaper. So let's get down to the exciting stuff. You know that moment around the holidays when you spot that dreaded aunt from across the room at the Christmas party, and you lock eyes, and immediately regret it, because there she is, coming in for that big wet kiss? Ok, now picture that your aunt is a heavy rubber ball and she's coming at you at 40 miles per hour instead of 3. Now she's plummeting down the field, winding back, and you can feel the target forming right there on your knee, or maybe this time your shoulder. Really just anywhere there are no pads to save you. Obviously, you are no longer the awkward pre-teen at a family function, and you have become the goalie of a woman's lacrosse team, trembling in your boots, and clutching your stick for dear life. It's at that moment that you start to think that the words "slide" and "help her!" have lost all meaning in the English tongue. But that moment is short. In some rare twist of fate, you've caught the ball! Everyone is cheering, and you smile, and you yell "clear!" with the authority that you have earned! The air rushes back into your lungs, and you release the ball into a determined spiral towards your speedy open player. You know that at that moment, your actions are important in some small, yet significant, way.

I hadn't planned to write about lacrosse, only because I suppose it's not particularly interesting, funny, or noteworthy. Maybe by this point, you agree with me, and have stopped reading. But if you haven't, stay with me for the slightest bit longer.

Yesterday, back in Microeconomics, Prof H posed a question to the class: "How many people aren't really sure what they're after, or where they're going?"
Gingerly, the majority of the class began to raise their hands.
"Me too," he said. Then he smiled, and continued on with his point.

But my point is this: I do not know what I'm after, or where I'm going. And I would be willing to guess that you do not either. But if we can experience these singular, unrelated, seemingly unimportant events, and place meaning behind each action relating to another, who's to say we cannot string together, expand, and amplify these events into a meaningful collection of circumstances that might give us even the smallest hint of a direction to head towards.