As you wrap up the end of the year, it’s crazy to think how quickly it all went by. It feels like just yesterday you were moving in for the Fall semester, bags and boxes too heavy to carry on your own, sorting through your schedule and making sure it’s set, and going to your first class or club meeting, not really sure what to expect walking in.
From here on, it only gets quicker.
The end of the year is a time of reflecting—looking back on what went right, what didn’t, and everything in between. Back on all the times you sat in the classroom or behind your desk studying, the friendships you formed naturally, and the ones that shocked you. You are meant to recognize all these things that happen in what now feels like such a short amount of time.
At the same time, it’s a period of looking forward—whether graduating or returning for another semester—to what your plans are next. Your mind jumps from previous hours to thinking ahead—about your summer plans, internships, the career you’re itching to start, or simply who you hope to become.
What most people don’t do is sit with how they feel in the present; they focus too much on the past year, and too much on the next. It’s easy to get caught up in nostalgia or anticipation, but somewhere in the middle is the now—the part we tend to overlook. The emotions you’re feeling in this moment, even if they don’t fully make sense yet, are real. They deserve just as much attention as your memories and your plans do.
When you spend so much time in one place, you grow weird attachments to the things around you in ways you don’t always notice. Not just to people, but to spaces, routines, and moments. Everything that surrounds you quietly becomes a part of your life. The places you used to get lost in are suddenly familiar, and you can’t let go of the routines that once entrapped your life.
Taking your next step doesn’t mean ignoring how these things affect you. Even the smallest details—like that bench you always go to when the weather’s nice, the walk you take to clear your head, the building you spent countless hours in—have a huge impact on the person you became this year.
It’s not just the year and your friends that you’re leaving behind. It’s the 8:30 class you swore you hated but somehow showed up to. The corner of the café that became yours without you consciously deciding it would be. The midnight runs for gas station food when life felt more figured out than it actually is. Those ordinary moments end up meaning something.
Then there’s the last week: the strange in between. Everything feels more important now; you start to notice these once insignificant things. You say “we should hang out before we leave,” and actually mean it. You walk around campus like you’re trying to take as many mental pictures as you can.
Living in the middle of the past and the future means allowing yourself to pause. To take in the beauty of the mini moments you had and the ones you still have time to create. To look around and recognize that even if everything isn’t figured out, there’s still something steady in what you possess right now.
When your focus is centered on documenting the past and planning the future, you forget to just live within it, even for only a minute. You don’t have to rush to process it all or neatly tie it together before moving on. Not everything needs to be turned into a lesson right away; some things are meant to just be felt.
So, before this week becomes something you look back on, let it be something you’re fully in. Notice every tiny detail around you and appreciate what you didn’t think twice about before.
Let yourself feel whatever comes up.
Stop trying to rush past something that’s still happening. Finals week may seem like just an ending, but it’s also a moment you’re actively living. Maybe the point isn’t to have everything figured out before it’s over—maybe it’s just to be here for it while it is.