“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 is normal’, such a sweet symphony for me, that no matter what is occurring this is music to my ears. To be normal, something I’ve always wanted, yet far too often out of reach. 

The doctor is right, even when he’s completely wrong. I literally giggled in delight that here a doctor was invalidating my emotional trauma in its face and still saying, ‘you’re normal’. It was like he grabbed that suffering script of life’s tragedies out of my hands saying, I couldn’t read the manual anyhow so what’s the purpose?” I’ve never been so happy, not to see!

Ya see, I’ve had perfect vision my whole life. Yet then I got in a car accident and everything went downhill. I could no longer diverge and converge my eyes effectively, I couldn’t turn my head side to side (i.e., looking for cars), I definitely couldn’t drive, heck even cross the street by myself. My eyesight was a disaster, but I still had 20/20 vision. Years of vision therapy and loads of agony for loss of quality of life no prayer could fix, I had an invisible disability. 

Jump ahead 23 years and here I’m being told that my most recent trauma (in the form of a landslide) coincidentally also triggered a loss of close up vision for both my husband and I. I was then told that it wasn’t tied to why I couldn’t see. He’s talking about two people who felt proud of their youthful 20/20 eyesight and now caput. So, now I have a doctor denying it completely and yet I’m yodeling from the mountain tops. 

Why? Because it doesn’t matter. 

I’m stoked about it. My script I’ve been rereading, validating, over correcting is no longer a best seller in my eyes. I don’t care, respectively. I’ve reached the point that validation no longer serves me, in fact it might actually deplete me. 

How so? I’ve already honored it. I’ve listened to me, deeper than anyone else could. I tended to those broken parts a mother would to her child. I’ve loved, allowed, accepted, held, reminded, and encouraged this shattered explosion of energy. I’ll never regret, nor expect myself to move forward without my own permission. It doesn’t matter. She/Me is the only thing that matters and I finally reached a place that someone who is trying to help me, a phenomenal doctor, freed me inadvertently BECAUSE I’ve done the loving work on myself enough to elicit all responses through love. It’s all happening FOR me! I get it, like I’ve never gotten it before. 

When you get to the place that everything is happening for you, you literally can switch on the love and try it out. Try it. Take all that anxiety, that belief of, ‘crap, I’m going to die’ (what we’re ultimately afraid of) and say, ‘ok, maybe.’ Chances are you’re probably not, but then something happens, without looking for it. 


The day prior I had my eyes dilated and it was yet again a super powered spiritual experience. I literally had to energetically stitch my own crown chakra together the following morning because even sleep didn’t seal this big deal. I was so wide open, including my third eye from having my eyes dilated. It was wild, but trying to operate in this world with an open mind hanging out of my head is not smart. So I energetically stitched my hemispheres together with a wand of a needle and energetic light filled thread, not knowing what the heck I’m doing but determined enough to be stable enough to go to my next appointment. As I head to the dentist that morning, seriously concerned if I can see well enough, I pass by a restaurant, “Heavenly Wings”. Now, I’m crying, really not able to see. Then the next is OX’s all over the wall of the next block, then a giant heart. I thanked my spirit team and headed to the appointment where they were about to scan my teeth remaking a new tooth from the one that was removed. This mouth full of dentistry was a huge part of why I’m here in Florida, seasonally.  In the beginning of my homeless year after the landslide, my mouth ended up matching my status. After thousands of dollars and enormous grants helping me save myself from my very real hardships, thank you SAIL, I’m in the final stage of recovery. It costs everything you got, but I trust in transaction of energy. I’ve witnessed it and lived it, this is just that. Another new big step forward. 

I’ve surrendered to anxiety just being a temporary norm, I guess. Sometimes it’s hysterical, sometimes it’s just there with dead batteries. I thank it, for it’s my practice to love myself, as is. 

Sometimes I need help, other times I don’t, but when I do, it shows up in spades. 

Later that day I was off to get my blood drawn. I double booked myself and then lost myself in their system. It was ridiculous, but obviously a tactic of, “how can I get out of this without consciously choosing?’ Maybe. 

There I was, in yet another waiting room. This time I refused to sit down. I knew I needed to be here and I was planning on standing in this space till I got back to my body. I’ve learned patience with myself is my best friend. I can wait. 

A cheerful angel appeared at the center of this blood bank. This is their sole job, so I knew I was in experienced hands. I’m the patient that requires a laydown chair, no sitting up seeing blood leave my body, I already died once from bloodletting. Let’s not do that again. 

As she takes about 12 vials, grateful we didn’t do the rest of the vials, as that’s for our next visit, it dawns on me looking at that blank canvas wall that I’m ok. I feel a bit weird and my head feels drained but that fig cookie in my fanny pack of scouts preparation and water bottle between my legs shows me how much I care for myself. I get back to the car and text my husband from the parking lot asking, ‘is it safe for me to drive?’ Not knowing how donors can just give so effortlessly, he assures me ‘yes’ and that he’ll follow me on the location app. The radio turns on and it plays the song, “Let it Be”.

“When I find myself in times of trouble
Mother Mary comes to me speaking words of wisdom
Let it be
And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom
Let it be…”

I pull up to the stoplight, keeping the windows rolled down just in case. I’m telling you, I’m uber prepared as a person for worst case scenarios, though I’ve been in worse case scenarios and there’s nothing that can prepare you, nor is it really that important because it’s custom designed for your enlightenment. And as I notice a lady stubbornly in the middle of the road awaiting a green light, and the amount of traffic in this area, I turn my blinker on and I beam with joy. I did it. 

I survived. 

I survived beyond my storyline.
I survived beyond my panic.
I survived beyond my past/parallel life.
I survived beyond my fear.
I survived beyond my life. 
I made it to here! 

Left, right, left,
Vanessa Wishstar
Psychic Medium, Spirit Guide, Writer

Bio: I am a seafull of mountains always seeking the truth, a mystic-called dragon, a psychic phenomena(l) goddess who births stars and makes wishes on their dust. I just love being me. And you being you.

I live in remote, pristine, Alaska and also the regenerative healing waters of Florida, discovering how life is meant to be loved. My husband and two children are my entire universe in which we frolic about, living out this dream. “Live on purpose”, I say!