Akashic Postal Boxes

It’s been a while since I’ve had a dream worth posting about. Until yesterday, that is.

I dreamt that I was in my home town and wanted to go to the post office to pay for a postal box.

There was this man I kept encountering all the time.

He supposedly was the sheriff, and was wearing a brown uniform with a golden star, complete with a brown hat.

For unknown reasons, this man really disliked me. I shared my thoughts about him with a few people, but they were all insisting that it wasn’t anything personal, that he generally behaved as if he had a stick up his butt no matter who he was talking to, and that despite this he was good at his job and was keeping the town safe from all kinds of threats.

I wasn’t really convinced it wasn’t personal with me though.

The guy really made a point of showing up wherever I was and asking all kinds of questions, to the point that I was beginning to feel that I was a suspect in some kind of investigation I didn’t even know about and that he was watching me, waiting for me to lead him somewhere (other criminals? stolen goods? I had no idea what he might have been looking for).

So after a few attempts to go to the post office that were interrupted by the sheriff and his men showing up and questioning me, I was determined to get my postal box and get it over with.

I really needed that postal box. I had asked at the post office about getting one many times over the years, but there was always some kind of problem so I had never managed to get one. This time, I was determined though. I had googled all the info a person may need to know about postal boxes, charges etc and I was getting my postal box no matter what anyone said!

So I walked towards the post office and was about to push the door open and get inside when a woman came out, preventing me from entering.

She told me she worked for the post office and asked what I wanted. I told her I wanted a postal box and she told me that unfortunately, there was nothing they could do about it because they didn’t have any available at this time. I told her that I had checked online and they had many boxes available and I asked her why she was lying to me. She looked sad, as if she didn’t particularly enjoy lying to me but she had no choice.

“The sheriff has forbidden you from getting a postal box madam”, she reluctantly informed me.

“Whaaaaaat? I mean….. WHAAAAAT??? The sheriff did what??? Why? How? How does this even concern him? And why?”

“I don’t know madam. All I know is that the sheriff said you are not allowed to have postal box.”

“Is there a reason for this? Is there an active investigation I am involved in that I haven’t been informed about and that’s why I can’t have a postal box? This is stupid! Where’s the sheriff? I’d like to have a word with him!”

“I don’t know madam. I’m afraid I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”, she said.

“I am not going anywhere. Who’s in charge here? I want to settle this matter for good!”, I said and moved towards the post office door. She grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the door, then positioned herself between me and the door.

“I’m sorry but I cannot allow you to enter. The sheriff said you are banned from entering the premises. You are not allowed to ever go into the post office. I’m terribly sorry, it’s not my decision, I’m just following orders.”

At this point I was furious.

Who the hell did he think he was, banning my entrance to the post office? It wasn’t his choice!

I didn’t care if he was the sheriff, this was beyond his jurisdiction and I was going in whether he liked it or not. Something was off here and I was determined to find out what.

I shoved the lady aside and stormed into the post office.



All around me, people turned white as sheet upon seeing me inside. The building had a really high ceiling and it was messy, with papers and boxes covering all available space. I walked towards the back, where I supposed the postal boxes would be since I hadn’t seen any at the front. There was a corridor with postal boxes on both sides, reaching all the way up to the ceiling. As soon as I started walking down one end of the corridor, a small postal box caught my eye. It had my name on it.

“What??? This can’t be!”, I said out loud as two women caught me by the elbows and tried to pull me away.

“This box has my name on it! Why did you keep telling me I can’t have a postal box when I already had one? How long has this one been here?”.

I struggled to free myself from the two women trying to drag me away from the box.

And then, the box burst open.

Just like that, it unlocked all by itself and opened so violently that its contents flew in the air, startling the women so much that they pulled away from me as I reached into the air and caught some of the things that had flown out of the box.

There were all kinds of open letters flying out, letters I had never seen before.

One of them was dated from 1994, another from 1992. They were all addressed to me, though I wasn’t familiar with the names of the senders. Some of them were just letters while others were objects of different kinds with accompanying notes.

I started reading the notes and letters and every single one of them appeared to be written by someone who cared deeply for me. They were all along the lines of:

“My beloved Scarlet, I heard/noticed you were struggling with… so I’m sending you something that will help. Let me know how it goes and if you need any more help don’t hesitate to contact me. I am always here to help and I like hearing from you. Love……”.

There were around 18 packages like that that had flown out of my box. All of them addressed to me, most of them from people whose names I didn’t recognize.

postal box

The women had gotten over their shock of seeing the box burst open and were moving towards me again.

“You came in here wanting a postal box. You now have one. Please go.”

I ignored them and started walking down the corridor again, the letters and packages from my postal box in my hands, trying to come to terms with the fact that someone truly went out of his way to hide part of my mail from m for pretty much all of my life.

The women tried to grab me again but I was fed up with them and the whole situation. I stomped my foot on the ground, shouting “NO!” and at that moment other postal boxes around me that belonged to other people started bursting open one by one and it was suddenly as if it was raining envelopes. And all of them had my name on them.

These postal boxes didn’t empty all their contents. Only the stuff inside them that was rightfully mine came out, the mail that was actually addressed to the person the box belonged to stayed inside.

There were thousands of boxes, and more and more of them burst open every second. Thousands of letters and packages that belonged to me were hidden within other people’s boxes so that I wouldn’t find them. I started grabbing envelopes and packages and reading the accompanying messages:

Dear Scarlet,

We have heard your prayers addressing your concerns that you will never learn to tie your shoelaces. We can assure you that this is not true. Rest assured that you will know how to tie your shoelaces by the end of the week.”

Dear Scarlet,

We received your wish to have your bag back, the pink Barbie bag that contained your animal nail stickers and Tom Cruise poster inside, that you forgot at the restaurant last night and that wasn’t there when your parents asked the owner about it today. We were sorry to hear that you are so upset over this, so we are sending you a replacement bag complete with stickers and Tom Cruise poster.”

Dear Scarlet,

I received your questions about whether communication with the dead is possible.

It is indeed possible. It is called necromancy.

All resources you need to learn this art will become available to you, effective immediately. Let me know if any of the written material is too difficult for you to understand; I haven’t had many 9-year-olds contact me about necromancy so most of the books on this subject are written for adults. If you have trouble understanding the material or finding a way to practice it though, I am always here to help you.”

Every prayer I had ever prayed and thought went unanswered, every wish I ever had, even from a time so early in my life that the memories were fuzzy, every question I ever had about anything, everything had received an answer.

There was no need, no question too small or too stupid to receive a reply.

My kindergarten fear that I wouldn’t be able to learn how to tie my shoelaces was addressed as seriously and fully as my concerns over a loved one in the hospital were addressed.

There was no judgment, no discrimination between serious and frivolous requests; all were answered as if they were of the utmost importance.

Right there before me, there was an answer to a lifetime of prayers, wishes and requests. These answers hadn’t come from one person either; I could see some were signed by humans whose names I didn’t recognize, some were signed by saints, some were signed by angels and others by fairies or demons, others were signed by different gods.

Most packages had some kind of item in addition to the letter: from toys and clothes and other kinds of everyday objects to books and grimoires and all kinds of roots with instructions on how to use them to manifest what I had asked for.

I had spent a lifetime not knowing that every single wish and prayer I had ever had had been answered, because someone made sure my mail was hidden from me instead of being delivered.

I was furious.

I wanted to know who did this and most importantly WHY they did this to me. Standing there, surrounded by a lifetime of answers and gifts, I suddenly wondered how different my life would have been, how different I would have been as a person, if I had known all along that there are so many beings that care about me, if I had known that everything I could ever want was always freely available to me.

And at that moment, I woke up.

And now I’m wondering if this is somehow true on some level. If everything I ever wanted was available to me all along and I just didn’t know about it, so I learned to not expect it to happen. If everything every person has ever wanted is always available to them and they just don’t know about it.

And -since this is actually a question similar to the ones someone went into the trouble of answering in my dream- if I’m actually going to receive an answer to this question now.

 

PIN IT!

brown postal boxes, text: akashic postal boxes: a dream adventure & exploration

 

Written by Scarlet