“Now I sit by my window and I watch the cars.
I fear I’ll do some damage one fine day.
But I would not be convicted by a jury of my peers.
Still crazy after all these years.”

— Paul Simon

This morning I stepped both back and forward in time while using the portal called Zoom. I may start to think of it as a time transporter.

My morning Zoom call was with a dear friend and colleague from my graduate school days.

She appeared on the screen looking very pulled together and exactly as I remembered her looking. Thanks to Facebook, we have kept up with the many changes in our lives. There has been much living — both joyous and challenging — since we first met more than twenty-five years ago.

The years between us melted away as we caught up on our lives, families, careers, and colleagues.

My friend Marilyn parlayed her dedication to equity and inclusion into a robust career of civil service. I watched from the sidelines with great respect and awe.

In a quick half-hour, we exchanged highlights and updates — and even some aspirations that we could work on together. It was a precious 30 minutes of a renewed connection.

In the final minutes of our Zoom call, I shared with my friend, my colleague, and a person who helped to guide me in my early years in Cleveland, what my strongest impression of her was, is, and was rediscovered during our call.

She has always been inclusive and valuing of diversity. Her faith is a lighthouse guide and always present. She has filled big shoes as daughter, sister, wife, mother, leader, friend and so much more. Though petite in stature she stands tall, stands up for what is right, and speaks up when the voice of fairness is needed. She has worked through physical pain, supported others with their physical challenges, and remained positive throughout. She vulnerably shares her trials and triumphs, and champions those around her. I am grateful to have her in my life still.

I shared this with her as we got ready to say our goodbyes. She was humbled and shared that she had learned how to use her power and her voice. However, she remarked that she did not use it during our learning years together.

I confessed that I had not yet embraced my age or the status of being an elder statesperson in the world or our career fields. I still relate to the young woman who was often the only woman in the room she was working, young and not from the region, and approaching the work through a lens of soft science. It was my weird and it took me a while to embrace it and live with it comfortably. And I may not be ready to set it aside.

I am no longer the lone woman in the room, no longer blond (but platinum silver), no longer a newbie to Cleveland, no longer the single voice of people and process but still weird in my own way. My friend reminded me that I too had learned to use my power, my voice, and my unique weirdness in creating my career and pursuing my way of contributing.

This morning’s call was a nice reminder of our constant qualities that are not fading with age but have remained with integrity through the passage of time and experience.

As I end this blog this morning, I now start to feel my age. I gather from all the reflections I have been doing. I suppose that is what you do when you reconnect with an old friend, discover a renewed friendship and all the life lived in between.

I hope that I can be youthful, weird, and a wise elder as I continue my commitment to my work practice.

• I am curious now.

• What qualities in your life have remained constant?

• Who are you in the world?

• How do you use your power and voice? How had it changed or not?

Indulge me in ruminations. Maybe this is my new weirdness.

Leslie

“Still crazy after all these years.
Oh, still crazy,
Still crazy
Still crazy after all these years”