Psychic Queer

Hi my name is Vanessa Wishstar and I’m a Psychic Queer. Let this not overshadow the real platform for ‘Queer Psychics’ or any LGBTQ+ identifying folks, as I have no intention of overshadowing the much needed spotlight in support, progression of our evolutionary beliefs and unconditional love. I’m just the gal in the witch’s hat in the back, cheerleading with identifying support. Here’s the thing, my ‘identity’ (not related to gender) carries a parallel story with those who’ve been enslaved…

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“You’re Normal”

“You’re Normal”Understanding We’re All of It.  Let me back up a bit. I had a professional tell me the reason why I couldn’t see close up all of sudden he confidently assured me it wasn’t because of my past trauma or a ‘stock market crash’ even though the trauma and eyesight loss coincidently happened to both my husband and I. He said, “it’s because this is what the body does when it ages.” “This is normal.”  Those three words, ‘this…

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Spiritual Dilation

Spiritual Dilation I can’t see. Not the words at least that I’m typing, as if my eyeballs were just smudged. I did that too, using my sage wand, noticing how big I am. My arms can’t even reach the diameter of my energy field. Happy to know I’m available for my greater needs.  Earlier I sat there in a waiting room of old people, “I’ve got to be able to calm myself down from these blurry peripheral walls closing in”,…

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Without this contrast I don’t know if I’d know me this intimately. 

Without this contrast I don’t know if I’d know me this intimately.  If I were rich, I’d be depressed. The kind of depression that gives you full attention to your depression. No longer scratching the couch cushions, knees on the hard floor praying to Jesus this billionth time for help like a runaway Catholic girl. All my same problems would be there, that money can’t remove. And if I were rich it would give me more time, more attention, to my…

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Surviving the Alaskan Way

Vanessa is a mystic woman who discovered through a natural disaster, living in extremes offers the ability to be able to appreciate it all. The noise, the silence, the conveniences, the doing without, the access, the remoteness, the community, the independence. All of it gets the best of her attention and is wildly accepted. She is now free.  Surviving the Alaskan Way The high prices of living in remote Alaska is beyond means, of what it means, to live. The…

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Psychic Life Series – Offerings of Animals

Psychic Life SeriesThe Offerings of Animals Animals come into our lives for communication beyond words. Same goes with us in their lives many times for validation, 2 legged presence, and understanding. We benefit from each other’s offerings when we’re balanced.  But what does it mean when the animal hurts us, or is dead? Are we doomed? Do we have bad luck or does the animal? Is something wrong here? The answer is no! Even when the animal’s life is in…

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This I’ve learned…

This I’ve learned… I’ve learned how to worship the sun because of the soggy arctic jungle of the Alaskan wilderness, contrast from the vitamin d enriched blazing fire of 9000 feet, lighting the mountains of Colorado.  I’ve learned how to bathe in the moonlight while it rises from the eastern seaside as the waters warm my chilled hairless coat of tanned leather. It took everything from me to get here.  I’ve learned how to dance in the rain even when…

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Psychic Life Series – Parallel Happenings

Psychic Life SeriesParallel Happenings I’m watching Northern Exposure, with a terrible sinus headache/migraine, finally reaching me-time after 14 days of hell with my son and daughter sick, my son being to the ER twice with terrible migraines, vomiting, and then a tooth surgery and dental work, I pray this is the tail end of the dragon’s story.  As I sit propped up to let the pain drain, I click randomly on a saved Northern Exposure video episode. A series we’ve…

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Sowing my Seed

Sowing my seed A traveling seed, searching for fertile lands in the sharp frozen months of January. A moons wait, up and down shifting my waters, affecting the moods of the material.  My source is my own homecoming. Picked up and carried against all nonconformity, through the dry cracked open lands, cut on the husks of once manifested miracles. I am no longer in Kansas searching for mountains.  Reaching down past the icy shards that encrust the earth, no tools…

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Born to Move

Born to Move Nomadically speaking, why do I insist on staying put? My inflexibility is my suffering. Out flows the dusty stagnation, the revitalization of recleaning the refrigerator, my baggage bursting at the seams. It feels unnatural to move when I just unpacked. Shived out of my own cell. “But, I want to stay!”  “No”, says What Is. “You mustn’t.”  Pain calls me back into my bodyhouse. I follow the signs towards better health.  Knock, knock, Who’s there?You.Yoohoo? -the end-   …

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