"Our Revels Now Are Ended"

          I always start the semester with the best intentions to keep up on this whole blogging thing in addition to being in school full time and working at the glitter-covered craft haven that is the Alpine Michaels. And somehow that never happens. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by now; it's happened exactly like this several times before. But this time around, I find myself in a more profound sadness that the semester is ending.
          In a little under 48 hours I'll be starting my final final of this fall semester. I'm ready to be done. In a little over 48 hours some of the people I hold nearest and dearest to me will return home to their families to enjoy the holiday season.  I'm glad they will. I personally am blessed to see my family on a semi-consistent basis throughout the semester, but not everyone is able to do that. But the sense of everyone leaving for the holidays, exactly when I'd want them here most, is sobering. 

"Our revels now are ended" (The Tempest IV.i)

          Though I should clarify that my semester hasn't been filled with drinking and dancing as is typical when thinking of "reveling," I must say the lively enjoyment that also accompanies "reveling" has still has found its way into my life. It's been a very Shakespeare-filled semester. Until I dove head-first into the Shakespeare world, I didn't really realize so much joy, entertainment, and insight on the human experience could come of one author who lived four hundred years ago. And yet, I think that is what art does to us. It changes us, in very practical terms, in ways we can't describe. While my life is nothing like The Tempest at all, the idea of being "such stuff as dreams are made on" cuts me to the very core. The fact that the semester's revels now are ended... it hurts, to be brutally honest. It means that the number of concerts I have left to perform as a Calvin student can be counted on one hand. It means that the number of times I have reason to get together with friends to "study" are quickly decreasing. It means that within a matter of months a large percentage of the Calvin population will leave, maybe for good, and then a couple of months after that I'll leave too. 

"Then sigh not so, but let them go, 
And be you blithe and bonny, 
Converting all your sounds of woe 
Into hey, nonny nonny."

(Much Ado About Nothing II.iii)

          And my oldest Shakespearean love, Much Ado, reminds me that this is the way things have always been. This process of growing and changing, leaving one place and going to another, or watching the world change around you happens every day. Sigh not so over things you can't change, but be cheerful and turn all your sad songs into songs of joy. There are so many things from this semester that I'll miss. But I'm coming out of this semester different than I was going in, with memories that will put a smile on my face for years to come. So with that, 

"Goodnight, sweet [people], and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest." (Hamlet V.ii)

          And by rest, I mean temporary rest, not a permanent rest like in the case of Hamlet. No matter your walk of life, I hope the holiday season brings you joy and peace. I hope the advent season renews your spirit and fills your soul with an overwhelming sense of love from those around you and mostly from our Savior, who we celebrate this time of year. And to those who will be returning to share in more adventures at Calvin, I look forward to another semester of your smiles and laughter, encouragement, Shakespeare quotes, good food, music, and caffeine.

"If music be the food of love, play on!" (Twelfth Night I.i)