My recent high school reunion, an August evening cool with anticipation of fall, was the first I've attended.

In appearances and in life experiences, some people changed little, others, a lot. Class pictures on nametags helped with outward appearances. After some catching up, it was apparent a few had lost inward optimism about the ability to influence life... a sign of wisdom... or cynicism?

Many discussed our lives, then—pranks, relationships, and favorite teachers. Some shared more recent history. Few talked of future hopes and dreams.

Laughter accompanied good-natured jokes about amounts of hair or weight, numbers of children, places traveled, marriage, and divorce. Careers ranged widely: dairy farming, landscaping, nursing, parenting, warehousing, and wordsmithing.

Some told of seemingly insignificant events that drastically changed present circumstances. Distance prevented some from attending. Six were known to have died, each remembered with a rose.

Others shared sorrows and strengths related to the death of loved ones. Some people worried about perceptions—where they were in life versus where others might expect them to be. Fortunately, very little judging seemed to be going on.

Most were more polite and friendlier. Even so, the original high school groups seemed to regroup—although a few moved from group to group, perhaps seeking affirmation from those who may have been less accepting in high school. Then and now, a sense of community emphasizes what's really important in relationships with coworkers, family, neighbors, and other friends—belonging and acceptance, no matter what we've done, or haven't yet achieved.

One person, among those who thought themselves "so cool" in high school, observed she hadn't encountered many of the early struggles that some college-bound students had. "Now," she observed, "I tell my kids that the people who we thought were nerds have the really great jobs. Those of us who thought we were so cool have had it rougher since then."

Maybe the cliché holds true: Adversity makes you stronger... if it doesn't kill you first. Or perhaps that observation falls into the "grass is always greener" category. Every once in a while, landscaping sounds like a pretty good career choice....

Years fly by in a blink of an eye. Fall always renews my taste for learning new things. The difference is, now, I'm almost afraid to blink.