Nancy’s Thoughts on MDF Season One

A podcast dedicated to exploring women’s identity beyond traditional scriptsMy hope is for listeners to discover their own story in the lives of the women interviewed and cultivate love for themselves and those around them.

Things I learned this season:

1 — I didn’t realize this Modern Day Flapper journey was really about how hard it is sometimes to be a woman pastor.

2 – I have the most amazing friends.

3 – Men have stories of how they can’t live up to the traditional scripts too. It’s hard for everyone.

Season Two of Modern Day Flappers will be released in March of 2015. I am so excited about some of the women I have reached out to interview – but I am also thinking that I might interview a few men!

Now I’m going to talk about some of my favorite moments:

Fran: “I don’t think you know who that woman is yet.”
You never know who will be inspired by the ashes…Heather Lefkowitz — How do we make peace with scripts?

Emily: Have you experienced the tension between: “I need to not care what anyone thinks about me and I’m so desperate for love and connection.”

Lis: “La esperanza es que se pierde lo ultimo” – Hope is the last thing that you would loose.

Betty Nixon: We need to invite someone who disagrees with us!

How do you figure out your own style or voice?  “Now I know what I’m supposed to sound like.”  Have you had that moment?

Megan’s interview held the most surprises!

Carolyn German, “The status quo is allowed to step in and say ‘you’re crazy.'” — Breaking a stereotype: You get to choose who you want to be!

“Now I Become Myself”

By May SartonNow I become myself. It’s taken
Time, many years and places;
I have been dissolved and shaken,
Worn other people’s faces,
Run madly, as if Time were there,
Terribly old, crying a warning,
‘Hurry, you will be dead before-‘
(What? Before you reach the morning?
Or the end of the poem is clear?
Or love safe in the walled city?)
Now to stand still, to be here,
Feel my own weight and density!
The black shadow on the paper
Is my hand; the shadow of a word
As thought shapes the shaper
Falls heavy on the page, is heard.
All fuses now, falls into place
From wish to action, word to silence,
My work, my love, my time, my face
Gathered into one intense
Gesture of growing like a plant.
As slowly as the ripening fruit
Fertile, detached, and always spent,
Falls but does not exhaust the root,
So all the poem is, can give,
Grows in me to become the song,
Made so and rooted by love.
Now there is time and Time is young.
O, in this single hour I live
All of myself and do not move.
I, the pursued, who madly ran,
Stand still, stand still, and stop the sun!

Also, I Kayaked in Northern Patagonia over Christmas and New Years:

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