I’ve been suffering from self-care and sleep deprivation since Miss Liberty Belle came into our life three weeks ago. Her arrival on a Saturday allowed my husband Dave and I to “tag team” caring for her so we were still able to get most of our own basic needs met. But that first Monday I was on my own, I didn’t brush my teeth until 3 p.m.

Miss Liberty Belle - 8 weeks old

There’s nothing exceptional about Liberty’s needs. But she’s a puppy. Waking several times during the night to take her out for potty breaks is normal. While the demands of a puppy are minimal compared to raising a child, it gives me renewed empathy for the sleep deprivation parents of young children endure for years, not just a few months.

I’m posting this video so I remember to take my own advice to get my 7-8 hours a night. How about you? How’s your sleep this week? A lack of it may be impacting your health more than you realize.

We brought Miss Liberty Belle home on Saturday. Only 7 weeks old, she’s already reminding me of the ancient wisdom inherent in all living things.

Miss Liberty Belle - 7 weeks

People, animal, plants all need much of the same  basic things: food, water, sunshine, rest, companionship, space to spread out our wings and fly, but also time to withdraw and recover.

Most of all, we need love. John O’Donohue writes “Love is absolutely vital for a human life. For love alone can awaken what is divine within you. In love, you grow and come home to your self.” I suspect he’d say it’s true about other life as well. When we are loved, we feel at home within ourselves and secure when we venture out into the world.

So love will be an essential nutrient we feed our little lass over the days, weeks, months and years ahead. And our number one dog, her uncle Legend, will also be getting more focused time and attention. We’ve committed ourselves to daily morning and evening walks since he thrives on exercise, discipline and affection – in that order (Cesar Milan’s three basics for well behaved dogs).  With a new puppy competing for attention, he needs to know more than ever how much we love him.

Any of you who read my blog regularly know I place a premium on love. Without it, all our efforts to be well, stay fit, eat right and look our best will fail to give us what we really long for. I can’t count the number of women who’ve sat in my office and told me that their efforts to lose weight were mostly driven by their longing for love. They hope that by perfecting their external appearance (an impossible task since perfection is an impossible goal), they’ll finally attract the love they long for.

Bottom line: love begins with me. I must all open myself to what Henri Nouwen refers to as “the first love.” Nouwen says that the love we receive from other living beings (human and otherwise) awakens our dormant desire to be completely and unconditionally loved. But our great task is to realize that the love of others is not the ultimate source. The love we receive in them is part of the greater love of a Creator who created us in love, from love, to love and be loved. Love is the beginning and the end.

Legend and Liberty soaking in the love

And, love is what frees us to live with liberty. More on that topic in the days, weeks and months ahead. Until then, may you have eyes to see and willingness to receive that great love that is the source of all love. It’s all around you. You must be willing to look for it and accept it in the forms and packages it comes in – human and otherwise.

I love poetry. But to read it or create it,  I must slow way down from my usual pace. My friend Stephanie (whose poem Disrobe I shared in my last post) is a junior high English teacher with lots of experience nurturing the poetic capacities in others. I captured a bit of my recent trip with her help on Labor Day.

The Cliffs of Mohr near my grandmother's birthplace in Lahinch, County Clare

Ireland

Fertile fields of wildflowers, grass and songbirds,
welcome travelers from faraway places.

Rolling hills, limestone castles, holy wells—
reminders of who I am, where I’ve come from and who I long to be.

Captured in precious but fleeting moments in ordinary days of urban life,
ever present in this sacred land my ancestors called home.

Golden silences broken by hilarious sounds
of nature’s delight in being alive!

by Cissy Brady-Rogers, Labor Day 2014

I returned home from two weeks in Ireland longing for more regular communion with open spaces, rivers, dirt, grass, trees, birds, wind, rain, clouds, rocks, cows, sheep, goats, bugs and the great outdoors. Spiritual director Christine Valters Paintner calls earth the “original monastery” – a place set apart to deepen our connection to God.

Climbing the 600 steps to top of Skellig

Throughout time contemplatives of all sorts have nurtured their spirits through communion with the earth. Previously uninhabited deserts and islands removed from ordinary life were natural sanctuaries. In the 6th century Christians built a monastic community atop Skellig Michael island off the coast of Ireland – one of the sacred places we visited during our trip. The 600 steps we climbed were just one of three paths the monks who inhabited the island between the 6th and 12th centuries built to navigate the steep climb from the Atlantic Ocean to their stone slab home 600 feet above.

Stone dwelling huts atop Skellig

In the 10th century St. Bernard of Clairvaux wrote that the natural world is our greatest teacher: “Believe me as one who has experience, you will find much more among the woods then ever you will among books. Woods and stones will teach you what you can never hear from any master.”

On Monday morning one of my soul friends and I took a walk in Pasadena’s Arroyo Seco (Spanish for “dry gulch”). Best known as the home of the Rose Bowl, the Arroyo’s trails, native plants and wildlife remind me that even though I’m far from the green, moist, cool motherland that made my soul sing and skin ever-so-happy, I can still find ways to nourish my connection to nature. The desert beauty of the Arroyo held us as we shared our hearts with each other.

Afterward we wrote poems using an exercise from Poemcrazy: Freeing Your Life with Words. Spontaneous and birthed by intuition rather than efforts to write “good” poetry, we painted pictures of God’s work in our innermost beings. I wrote about my Irish roots while her poem perfectly captured the essence of our conversation in the Arroyo. Stunningly beautiful and rich with meaning, I asked her if I could share it here. It reminds me that sacred places aren’t just beautiful for what we can seen, but for how they give birth to the unseen ancient wisdom that we can only hear if we make space to listen.

Disrobe

The wide expanse of sky
echoes your own heart’s desire
and you glimpse for
a clear moment
the wings of your own soul soaring.

It is time to stop
tinkering with borrowed dreams
that you wear like an
Ill-fitting dress
stiff-collared, pleated skirt
your arms limited
by taffeta sleeves.

It is time to shed the layers
and slip into
your own luminous skin.

Tentatively, at first,
you begin to disrobe.

Cantankerous voices mutter
your behavior is offensive,
oblique. As you persist
in your unraveling
of thread and fiber,
buttons and lace
the rumble turns
to shouting
Should!
Must!
Don’t!
Do!
Angry venom bubbles over.
Poison eyes, clenched fists.

But you are fully naked now,
not a shred of the old dress left.
the voices are lost
in the rush of wind,
and you realize
you are flying.

A poem by Stephanie Jenkins, Labor Day 2014

Stephanie didn’t set out to be wise or compose a great poem. Yet when she first read this to me, it went deep into my soul. Reminiscent of Mary Oliver, I think it’s a masterpiece! Thank you Stephanie for allowing me to share it here.

Atop Skellig Michael with Little Skellig in background

Nature and creative expression are powerful sources of grace in our lives, yet can feel frivolous amidst all the ordinary demands of life. I pray that you may find what nourishes you and be fiercely committed to making time and space for those things. Even if it means walking in a dry gulch instead of on an Emerald Isle. Maybe you’ll discover you can fly!