Mud Volleyball - A Part, Yet . . . Set Apart.

The Mud Volleyball Tournament at the Lions Club at Big Lake in Wasilla, Alaska.

After an arduous month-long work assignment, I’ve five glorious days in town to rejuvenate before flying off to the next one for another month. My first day back, I drive 300 miles round trip from Anchorage to Soldotna. Upon my return, I attend a late-into-the-evening family birthday and after the party, I drive out to the Valley and gather with friends around the fire and camp for the night. On the morning of my third day off, I wake feeling fatigued before I even roll out of bed. But with a full day’s plans set ahead of us, I join the others and head off for the lake.

Four shin high pools filled with muddy water with nets stretched across the middle of each pit
                                  Blaring music
                                        Food trucks
                                              Porta potties lined and at the ready
and an Emcee calling over the cacophony requesting teams rally at their designated courts all work to set the stage for the days event.

The annual Mud Volleyball Tournament, sponsored by the Lions Club, gathers at Big Lake. Twenty-three teams of eight players and two alternates each registered in support of today’s charity.

As competitors work their way through the first set of elimination rounds, we wait for our team’s call to the challenge. I pull my chair close to the portable fire pit, a team member set up between the trucks, and watch the happenings around me. An outdoor game of Jenga towers at the ready near where I sit by the fire. Members of our team play a game of Cornhole while others forage at the picnic tables laden with all manner of yummy snacks. A canine works its way from hand to hand panning for pets from whoever will love on ‘em. And people smile at our little group as they pass us by on foot and on four wheelers and on dirt bikes.

Mesmerized by the flames, feeling weary and subdued, I stare at the popping, crackling logs. A woman on the team, I briefly met a couple of nights prior, walks up and quietly admonishes close into my ear, “You need to give your testicles a tug! Think about it!” and she walks away. Unimpressed, I dismiss this crass individual. I observe as she then loudly cheers at her young twenty-something year old daughter to guzzle her beer “faster! faster!”

Later, as I stand visiting with a friend, this same woman pops her head, in between me and my conversation, over the back of my shoulder and close up to my face, and makes an out-of-the-blue declaration, “I need to train you! I’m going to get a collar for you.”

My friend told me later that . . . I quietly look away and with a finger, move my hair away from my eyes, I turn back to her and state emphatically, “No, maybe I will train you, . . . !”

                              (I do not conclude with the rest of my thought . . .                                                                                                “To Be Respectful!”)

The woman jumps back and exclaims, “That’s hot! Will you put a collar on me? I’ll wear the collar!”
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I stare in silent disbelief at this person I do not know speaking to me in a non-relatable manner. She repeats her statement of submission to my silence.

Putting an end to this unwarranted jockeying-for-position foray, I firmly advise, “I may be a quiet person and appear a beta, but I am an alpha and I have no problem getting pugilistic!” My friend and those nearby overhearing this bizarre exchange, laugh aloud . . . The atmosphere falls into a tangible silence.

At the Emcee’s call, team Pitter Patter slogs out onto the court; I take some of the soft dirt edge with me into the water as I move toward my position. I try to not splash as I dance to the rhythm of the tunes that play as I ready to volley the ball back to the black T-shirt clad team on the other side of the net. Thoroughly enjoying this messy competition, wet and muddy, laughing and congratulating, our team makes its way out of the pit after losing our final round.

As I drive the long miles toward home, in spite of the fun of the day, I puzzle over just what contributes to the development of the mindset that confronted me today;
                                                             Fear?
                                                                Insecurity?
                                                                   Control?
                                                                      Bitterness?
​                                                                         Trauma?

Concrete answers elude. But the day’s lesson does not escape me. Proverbs charges, “Above everything else guard your heart with all diligence, for from the heart flows springs of life.”

Maintaining peace when confronted with contention, even overt aggression is the challenge. Meeting provocation head on by establishing, communicating, employing healthy boundaries is essential in governing relationships and, too, is what works to prevent the dam of offense, bitterness, fear from stopping the springs of life from flowing from the heart.

As I shower off the remains of this gloriously, messy day, I mentally “extract the precious from the worthless.” I may not again socialize in the company of this stranger, but if our paths do cross, expectation is established - I’ll boldly hold fast to peace