Get Along Prairie Doggie

I have noticed recently, in the Medicine Card readings I've given, that a certain card keeps popping up (which is actually a great visual, considering which card it is! :)). Actually there are a number of cards that seem to come up in readings over and over, and that probably defies the laws of probability. Anyway, another thing I've learned through giving readings is that, though the client is the one whom the message is aimed at, it always pertains to me in some way as well. So, as I've watched Prairie Dog peek out of his hole again and again and again through a number of readings, I realized there's a lesson in there for me.

Prairie Dog represents Retreat. When he appears it means it's time to retreat, to pull inside, to regroup. Prairie Dog is a very social, family-oriented creature, so another thing he signifies is recognizing the support group, your friends and family, seen and unseen, that surrounds you. You are not alone! You don't have to do everything!

In the prairie dog community, there is always one individual designated to standing guard, on alert for the hint of danger, and if he senses any, he sends out an alarm that the entire village can hear in order to take cover. Knowing this allows the entire tribe to relax and enjoy themselves, knowing that someone is watching out for them. They don't each have to be on guard, looking for and seeking out every single little threat that may come their way. They are safely in the capable paws of their sentry.

How does this relate to me? This weekend I have chosen to take a "Prairie Dog" weekend and a personal retreat. I am physically and emotional depleted after prolonged challenges at my day job (and staying up til 1am writing in my blog!...), and I need to retreat to where I know I am safe, and where I can sleep and rest and regroup. I plan on spending acouple days at my friend's house out in the country, one of the safest and most magickal places I know of.

In fact I had a small taste of Prairie Dog medicine there last weekend when my friend threw a birthday party for another friend. As usual we had a campfire in her backyard. Everyone sat in chairs around the fire, talking and laughing, and my friend brought out a few blankets to lay on the ground f0r her dogs to lie on. Normally when there's a gathering at her house, I end up sitting on the dog beds, and so it felt natural for me to abandon my chair for the comfort of a near-by blanket. Ahhh! As I lay there, watching the flames at eye-level, one of the dogs came over and curled up with me. Soon I had closed my eyes, listening to the slightly out of focus voices around me, as I drifted into a space I'd forgotten about. A space of safety. A space where I was allowed to let down my guard.

It was the same feeling as the 'happy place' I constantly tried to bring to mind those many years of suffering anxiety and panic attacks. I would place myself back in my childhood on a trip with my family. It was night time so things were dark, except for the lights of passing cars dancing around me as I lay in my sleeping bag in the back of our Winnebago. The soothing vibrations of the motor and the gentle waves of the rolling road lulled me into a peaceful place as I listened to the indistinguishable words spoken between my parents up front, blended with the strains of a John Denver song, while my dad drove us to where ever we were going next. I was safe. I was taken care of. I hadn't a care in the world.

And for a brief time the other night, I visited that place again. Totally safe, surrounded by people who cared for and who watched over me. The warmth of the fire and the warmth of the friendships, and the softness of my canine companion allowed me to let go of everything for a short time. And unencumbered I dozed off to sleep.

If there is a heaven, that's what mine would look like.