The aroma of the end

Here, we can smell endings from miles away. Wood fences damp from the thick night air of May, freshly transplanted flowers, the cooking plastic of huge tents in the sun and fresh mulch and manure spread ironically to impress alumni perfume our final days. For the Class of 2007, those electric panels connected to light-bulb-speckled, black-and -orange signs mean more than they did in previous years. What does one feel when on the cusp of leaving this "ivory tower"? The French poet Baudelaire created an entire collection of poems entitled "Spleen et ideal" — anguish and the ideal. Some of us aren't ready to jump, while some of us can't wait to leap; but for all of us, in a mix of this Baudelairian ideal anguish, leaving this place, even at the age of 22, evokes a similar feeling.

The last class admitted by Dean Fred has seen a lot: Butler's last hurrah, Rocky's makeover, Campus' closing; we've also seen the last days of earlier late meal glory, Micawber and the U-Store in the heart of the slums. Hearing "brother" or "sister" precede our name when addressed by a famous pocket-watch carrier, accidentally saying "charge, please" while handing over a credit card instead of a prox, walking by a gothic arch echoing with harmonizing voices, regular dinners with all of our closest friends — all of these little moments we took for granted will soon be memories.

Like a looming, inevitable breakup with a high school sweetheart, the end of one's time at Princeton, the popping of the Orange Bubble, is filled with nostalgia, sadness, exhaustion and a feeling of readiness in spite of the uncertain future. Fond snapshot memories mingle with regrets of fraternities not rushed, classes not taken, friends unmet, eating clubs unbickered and office hours ignored. In the end, though, we know we have to move on to a more adult part of our lives.

Now that we're at the end, we're again faced with that big question asked at our Princeton information session by the dad of the kid who ended up going to something-or-other-polytechnic institute: What does one do with a "liberal arts education"? The answer of "Anything!" that sounded so exciting to our 18-year-old ears is now horrifying. An acceptance letter from grownup life that began with "YES!" would probably not be as exciting as it was in its auspicious big envelope with that unmistakable crest. Thinking about utilities payments, not being able to walk pretty much everywhere that's important, bidding farewell to the days of summer vacation and worrying about insurance and rent are more than a little daunting.

In spite of all this, for a few moments, seniors should reflect, as one should at every ending, not on the unknown that lies ahead, but on all that lies behind us. We should not ask what we missed or could have done differently; instead we might ask what we have learned, not just about the subject of our lectures, but about others like us, and more importantly, those unlike us, and most importantly, ourselves. We should challenge the idea that for most of us, there won't be any more rehearsals or performances, any more practices or matches. We should make time for what were our extracurricular loves to become our extra, or even just occupational, passions.

Indubitably, the real world will sometimes seem to be too much, and maybe we will feel the urge to retreat to our tiger-striped womb, but that's when we need to remember the words of the wise James Taylor: "The secret of life is enjoying the passing of time." Good luck to my fellow '07ers, and let's enjoy these coming days at Princeton, which will surely not be our last. Laura Berner is a psychology major from Rye, N.Y. She can be reached at lberner@princeton.edu.