*Read this as if it were the end of December*

A common theme within most of my columns is some type of reflection on change or the different ways how I view the seasons of life evolve before my eyes. Since it is the end of the semester and the halfway point of my sophomore year, this column is going to be no different. 

It feels like just yesterday that I was riding around campus in a golf cart on First Year Move In or going out on practice tours during Tour Guide Training Week. In all honesty, that week leading up to the first day of classes has been one of the highlights of my John Carroll experience thus far. Despite the fear that the rest of the semester would not live up to that week or the summer’s high level of quality, the proceeding semester was mostly able to crest that standard.

From going to improv shows to Sunday morning Biggby runs, there have been a lot of memorable moments these past few months. Yet, for some reason, I have been feeling strange. It’s hard to put into words but, during this entire semester, there has been a tangible difference despite having the same routine. 

As much as I want to say that my surroundings haven’t changed and that I am the one who has done all the changing, that would be a complete fabrication of the truth. The Belvoir Lot is no longer my own personal football field and now stands empty albeit for a sign that reads “Building Inspired Futures.”

Pacelli Hall, my home, is currently in the process of being gutted and renovated with the hopes of getting rid of the nickname “Smelly Pacelli.” Everywhere you look, something is changing for the better. Nine times out of ten, “better” is a subjective term. 

However, one thing that hasn’t changed is my love of working in the ResLife office and my favorite, work-related task this past semester: delivering posters to each of the residence halls on campus. This may seem like an odd task to enjoy completing but I have had some of my most profound epiphanies while on this familiar journey. Besides the earth shattering thoughts on life, it’s been nice to run into friends and have them join me on my quest.  

So, recently, as I was pondering this question of how I am forever changing as a person within an environment that changes at an even faster pace, a moment of clarity struck while on this familiar errand. 

The opening lines of The Beatles’ “In My Life” goes as follows: “There are places I’ll remember all my life though some have changed. Some forever, not for better. Some have gone and some remain. All these places have their moments with lovers and friends, I still can recall. Some are dead and some are living. In my life, I’ve loved them all.” 

These lyrics rolled over me as I entered Hamlin to drop off the posters for the day. The Hamlin Hall that I knew and even grew to love over the summer is somewhere underneath the new memories being made currently. Despite fresh decorations and occupants, it’s the same building underneath. It hasn’t really changed: I have.

The buildings of John Carroll are being updated but the way that I see myself within this community has changed even more. When we step outside ourselves, we can see growth on both a personal and institutional level.   

No matter my efforts though, I still cannot verbalize this complex wave of sentimentality that has been following me this past semester. I think this is due in part to the fact that I have become aware of my own fleeting existence within University Heights and the foreboding end to the customs with friends that have slowly developed this semester. Half a year is a blink of an eye during the span of our entire lifetime. 

To close, this may seem like an overly negative reflection about the semester but, for the most part, I have no complaints. I have just become more aware of time passing and how this impacts my outlook on life. Just remember to recognize the beauty of your environment and relationships in the moment. They will change and you will too.