My “storage is full.” 

My Drive can no longer hold anything more.

There’s a trauma response to “having”

A house. 

A job.

A led possibility.

A seemingly causation of health matters. But does it matter and could we even be held responsible?

When anything good arrives the question arises, ‘can I handle having this?’ 

Desires are long gone at this point. Just action, as if we’re being pulled through a force well beyond our strength. We can’t fight it, deny it, nor bring our safety gear along for the ride. Completely at the mercy of the moment. 

I stood in the salty water, knee deep. Content on not moving forward in this moment, just barely feeling, yet enough to let it move me. It was oddly uncomfortable, yet there I was, fondling a shell worn to the shape of my finger. An extension gifted, already holding hands with the great Divine. All alone I gulp my fears using their momentum and walk into the depths of the sea. I had no intentions of christening myself, submerged into the wet, salty Mother – birthing into my being. I then grabbed my board and rode the waves of my existence. 

I felt like I was 20. 

Suddenly aware of what I looked like, but too confident to care. Single, fresh, non-attachment to just about everything that I fear today, an in-the-body sensation. 


Thank you sun. Turning my page to read the next chapter. 

I guess this is how I write my book. 

Vanessa Wishstar
Spiritualist Psychic Medium & Writer