Somehow, it is already December, and the calendar year and the semester are already coming to a rapid end. Experience has taught me that this week, having just returned from Thanksgiving break, is a slap in the face. The transition to our final days of class and to the beginning of final exams is by no means gentle. The work, the assignments and the stress all seem to pile higher and higher each day as I eat the chocolates out of my Advent calendar and try to hold onto some semblance of the holiday spirit. 

During this trying time, I find myself counting down the days until Christmas break — when my finals are over and when I can go home to a consistently 70 F California December, escaping the due dates and the burden of carrying around my thick winter coat. 

But even as I dream of warmer, slower days while walking across campus early in the morning, my senses ground me where my feet are. I notice how the sun shines on the trees that are slowly losing their leaves, and I marvel at the fact that three different colors are visible in a single glance. I see the twinkling lights of the Keating Hall wreath that is finally up for the season. I think about the beauty of this campus we call our home and how perfectly suited it is for the holiday season. 

And then I come back to the apartment that I share with five other girls, and my roommate has brought a tiny Christmas tree from her home in Connecticut, carefully propped up in the corner on top of our extra chair, complete with a garland of lights. I remember how lucky I am to live with my best friends and that I don’t have to struggle through this overly busy time alone. 

Then I notice the tour groups meandering around campus, the high school students and their families visiting Fordham University for the first time, and for a moment I see this place through their eyes. I think about the first time that I came to visit — how magical it was, how I fell in love with this place and how much it felt like home. I remember all my hopes for what college in New York City would be like, and I realize that I am now living my 16-year-old self’s dream.

And I remind myself that as long as I have a jacket, the cold isn’t too bad anyway.

When all the stress is piling up, it is more important than ever to pay attention to the little things that capture our imagination, that speak to our spirits and our memories. This is how we can remain rooted in our “why.” This time in our lives is so formative; we are learning, we are building relationships, we are preparing for the future, for life beyond Fordham, for whatever is coming next. This time in the semester is so stressful precisely because it is a culmination of all of these things, of all that we are learning and of all the things that are forming us.

It is, of course, important to look towards the future. Of course, we would look forward to Christmas Recess as a time of rest in the immediate future. Of course, we want to be organized about whatever our next step looks like in the more distant future. But it is equally essential to root ourselves in the present. Because if we are not here, experiencing what is before us right now, we will not be there, experiencing what our lives may look like in the future. Presence multiplies itself, and so does distraction.

So, as the schoolwork piles high and the library study room availability dwindles, take some time to walk around and appreciate the lights and the wreaths and the signs of winter approaching. You don’t have to stop (the world is constantly spinning and will only continue to do so), but consider slowing down just enough so you can feel the magic in the air — it is always there for those who look for it.

Yes, there is so much that needs to be done. But there is also gratitude that needs to be cultivated, conversations that need to be had and joy that needs to be shared. 

If we don’t hold onto the point of things, we’ll never get through to the end, or worse, we won’t even realize when we have arrived. To “finish strong,” we must arrive in the here and now. Maybe what we need is not to “lock in,” but to let go. When we prioritize the point, the rest will follow. When we lean into all that this season of intense stress and intense joy brings, we can watch and see as life opens up around us. And this is the greatest gift we could ask for.