When a Field Consultant falls in the forest, does she make a sound?

Yes, yes she does. And the 20 Tri Deltas sitting around the campfire all turn to stare.

Welcome to Wyoming!

I began this visit with an early flight from Pullman, Washington, to Seattle. After connecting in Denver, I boarded the wimpiest plane I’ve ever encountered to make the short, but not so sweet, flight to Laramie, Wyoming. It was but two rows wide and powered by propellers. (Thump, thump… that was my heart. And the engine.)

Now I’m no scaredy-cat flyer, but when that plane took to the skies over the Rocky Mountains and then promptly dropped 1,000 feet in the turbulent wind, I admit I said a prayer. Apparently it was heard, because we landed safely 30 minutes later. My luggage, however, was sitting somewhere in Denver.

If there’s one thing to know about this job, it’s all about rolling with the punches. Lost luggage? Find the nearest Target. Power goes out in the guest room from your hairdryer? Take that wet mop upstairs. The very first day on the job, each one of us FCs emailed each other about something nutty that happened, including tripping down a mountain, walking out of the bathroom with your skirt tucked up your undies, and getting pooped on by a bird.

I was finally able to sit back and laugh about it all this morning with someone who understands! Trent Patterson, a Regional Director for Sigma Phi Epsilon and fellow 2010 graduate of Wichita State, is traveling in the northwest this year and happened to be visiting Wyoming during the first day of my stay. He took me to breakfast, and we laughed about those, and all sorts of other crazy things that only happen on the road. Seeing a friendly, familiar face in the midst of this consultant whirlwind was refreshing and rejuvenating.

And that brings me to the rest of my day today. I trekked out to a lodge in the wilderness with the Wyoming Tri Deltas for their pre-recruitment retreat. I led a small conversation workshop and then we played games and did team-building activities. These girls are a fun bunch! We laughed a ton—see the pictures attached.

At the end of the day we gathered around the campfire for a fireside (with real fire!) It was at this point that I decided to climb a small hill to get another picture of the group of them. And then I slipped on the pine needles and fell.

After Queen’s “Another One Bites the Dust” stopped ringing in my ears, I sat back and laughed. When else will I be in the Wyoming mountains with these incredible women again? This experience is too haphazard, too inconceivable to sweat the small stuff. I can’t predict the craziness, so bring it on.

My Sliding Door Moment

Have you ever faced a decision that has the opportunity to change your life? A good friend of mine calls such occasions sliding door moments. And even though the terminology is traced to a 1998 movie starring Gwyneth Paltrow, the effect of your own sliding door moment will no doubt impact your outlook on life for years.

In the movie, Gwyneth catches a train by mere seconds. The sliding doors close and she’s whisked home to find her husband cheating on her. In an alternate parallel universe, however, the sliding doors close before Gwyneth can board. She goes on with life, never discovering the lie that’s right under her nose.

Poor, poor Gwyneth.

The truth is we all face those sliding door moments in our lives. Taking a new job, blurting out a statement you’re dying to say, or, conversely, keeping it in. Do you catch the train that will change your life? Or should you stay put and continue on the comfortable path?

The same good friend that opened my eyes to the power of the sliding door moment is a traveler, like me, that takes to the skies every four days to effect change on college campuses across the nation. To her, we get a sliding door moment every time we board a new plane. That flying metal tube practically hands us the ticket to a new adventure, and it’s up to us to decide whether our lives will change.

But is that really possible? And will my transformation, if I decide to transform, be a simple adjustment or a personal revolution? This is what's on my mind as I watch the doors open, sitting at gate C27 in the DFW airport.

Here’s what I do know: I’m getting on the train.

I want to know about your own sliding door moment. Did you walk confidently through the doors or watch them close? And have you faced consequences since?