Three weeks into my final year as an undergrad. Overwhelmed is an understatement. Classes are small (less than 10 people in all of them), Demand for excellence is high, leadership positions are challenging to the point of no return. Yet, as intense and draining as the past few weeks have been, they have also been some of the most well-rounded weeks of my entire college career.
There is a large black cricket infestation in Waco. Its really, really bad. My courtyard is filled with frogs the size of my palm. The upside? frogs think crickets=yummy. The downer? I now must watch out for homeless creepers AND frogs-its a real battle zone between the car and the front door. Kittens come in trios. I did field research at a Czech folk festival. McDonalds happy meals with American Girl paper dolls do indeed make me quite happy. I now hold a most coveted spot in SING/Pigskin formations: the tip of the triangle. This year, I'll finally apply myself to Russian; if I don't, I will surely drown among the Pushkin poems.
This week was particularly intense. Come Friday night I was tired, hungry, wilted by the immense humidity, and ready to throw in the towel. Though I wanted no more than a quiet night at home, I mustered all my energy and pushed through an extreme sport social event at the student life center. I was pleasantly surprised by the turnout, how fun it was, and how good it felt to hurl dodgeballs across the court towards 20-30 strangers. It was pouring rain as we cleaned up and walked the supplies to a friend's car. Dryness was no longer an option and I noticed the BSB fountains were still running. It is a tradition to run through the science building fountains, and is one I had yet to experience. Tonight, surrounded by some of my closest friends, I experienced another college right of passage.
Run, group hug, laughter. Run, group hug, soaked, water, laughter. more laughter.
And as I stood soaked, laughing uncontrollably with the rain pouring down around us, I felt it. Renewal, refreshment. But most of all, I felt alive.
At that moment, under the cloud of stress and delirium, there was nothing to do but run. Run through the wall of water, and run fast and hard.
Thats the feeling that propells us on. Like white water rapids.
(and among the chaos of the here, the now, the future, the suggestive song of a ceiling fan plays on.)
Friday, September 11, 2009
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