Do you ever think about your mailbox?
What it looks like? What it feels like?
What it brings in?
Is your mailbox mainly a bill collector?
An ad dumpster?
And what goes out of your mailbox?
Do you send letters?
Cards?
Is your heart a-flutter when you go the mailbox?
Or is it numb without anticipation?
I had contempt for mine.
My bland, white tin box with tiny scratches
On the top flap. It felt like a bored, bald
Doughy middle aged white man who still eats
Wonder bread.
It seemed to announce only dull news: bills, ads, coupons.
And then something rattled my insides,
shouted for change:
DO something about that box!
Without hesitation,
I pulled the white tin from the wall,
Washed it off and began.
My inner voice directed:
What do you want to invite into your life?
What do you want to send out from your home?
What magic are you opening to?
Right!
I felt myself re-membering.
My-Self.
That box can be magical.
And I got it…I make the magic
Along with my life’s co-creators,
Those who show up to play.
My mailbox shape shifted into
A free-spirited gypsy-artist-
Love-child. Her clothes were
stitched with prayers
love and gratitude. She
opened the flow to give
and receive. Give and receive.
Now, I go to the mailbox multiple
Times a day. Just to visit.
Just to feel the love.
Feel the gratitude.
Rest in life’s magical
Flow at the trading post,
And to remember
To Trust and have faith.
All is well.
Just as it is.
Right Now.
