Category: psychology

The Light of Letting Go. {Poetry}

Sunlight Ocean
Photo Credit: Cristian Palmer/Unsplash

Are there spaces inside your body that hold onto old tales?


Words fall stagnate,

pebbles tossed to the way side,

skipped across puddles,

as you change,

effortlessly it seems

for days pass into days

and, one afternoon

the wintry light angles across the room

exposing little pieces of dust

like the stuff in your mind

during writer’s block

it’s as if the dust collected into bricks

golden and heavy

weighing down your thoughts,

as you try

to throw them away

with new stories,

new songs

singing into your ears,

lyrics floating up inside your dusty brain,

cleansing the soul

for it’s not just there that you live,

for it’s not just in the neurons,

but in the touches

of fingers,

of toes,

of laughter

lingering in the soft light of winter

where you decide

to get up,

and let go of the stories

that held you back.

~Jessie Zanita


Poet’s Note:

Well, hello, there!

Where the hell have you been?

Um, I got lost.

So what does a writer do? Write free-flow poetry.

Write a new story.

As this old year fades into dust, what is the story that you’ll write in the upcoming year? 

Happy New Year to all of you!

~ Jessie


Jessie Zanita  ©  2018

Turn Up the Volume in Your Life. {Poetry}



It’s gonna get loud,


wild, and so

go with those sounds…

add your own voice,

singing along

even out-of-tune, but

don’t be consumed with an ideal of silence

for some meditations

come with the waving of a wand,

tapping it twice on your left shoulder,

and saying,

“We’re living in the brisk breaths of wildness

for that is how

we hear the mysterious magic

in the roaring sounds of cacophony.”

Copyright 2017 Jessie Zanita


Poet’s Note:

I woke up with a lot of noise outside my window this morning.

I had a choice: complain, or join in the cacophony.

I turned on my music and grooved.

I danced a little while doing the things that needed to be done on a Monday morning. I laughed at how it’s so easy to get stuck in an idea in which silence is a necessary tool for creativity. Yep, it helps, but there’s also a need for loudness in the creative process.

So, if you can, then give it a try today. Let go of predetermined ideas, and turn up the volume in your life.

Join in the cacophony of being alive!


Photo Credit: Seth Doyle/Unsplash

Be Your Own Beautiful. {Poetry}


But I don’t really to tell you that.

Do I?

You must know that you’re beautiful, right?

Do you really need some stranger to be your spiritual cheerleader? Reminding you that you’re so awesome inside and out? And yet they barely know you?

Do you need words sugar-coated with the zest of glitter and fireworks?

Does anyone—let alone me—need to be your spiritual cheerleader, bursting forth #greatquotes to make you remember the inner beauty shining so brightly from your eyes?

Nope. I’m an artist, not an effing cheerleader.

I want you to see that it’s necessary to feel those emotions—the tortured and the bliss—that’s how you figure out what’s going on. You own those experiences, and create your own sense of self-worth not based upon some trite spiritual cheerleading prose.

So I can’t do it. I’ll create my own art, representations of my own experiences, but I won’t make my pen into a Pom-Pom or a Pom-poem to soften the whatever it is that’s going on in your world because it’s your perception.

I want you to see what you uncover in the spiritual process, especially when you hit upon uncomfortable feelings. Yep, those ones that make you reevaluate your world.

Deal with them without relying upon flowery words to get you through the mess like a pill.

Dig deep into what you are feeling because once you access the uncomfortableness, sit with the emotions, then you are so much closer to stepping through to the other side.

There are no easy paths in the spiritual journey.

True, there are some things that are too intense to deal with alone, so seek out a counselor or close friends, maybe even do some art, but stop relying on the advice of spiritual cheerleaders, as they are masking the truth of being you.

Yes, you’re beautiful, and it’s a lovely message that I found scribbled on a nearby bridge, but…be be your own beautiful because the words are right there inside your soul.


Copyright 2016  © Jessie Wright

She Wanted Less.



wanted less
holding back in the spaces between their lips,
as if their breath could be the only language in the world.

She wanted less
time lost in the rivers of the mind,
as if rapids were always more exciting than still waters.

She wanted less
living in doubt,
as if confusion should be like a rainbow of colors,
& taste like the first strawberry of spring.

She wanted less
political rhetoric about the size of penises
when it’s the width of the heart that counts.

She wanted less
smog covering the blue skies,
as if there wasn’t another way to live
in balance with our planet.

She wanted less
letting go,
as holding on is sometimes worth the ride.

She wanted less
layers of clothing,
as in peeling off the winter jackets and boots exposes us
to more warmth in the soft touch of skin-to-skin contact.

She wanted less
explaining of syllables,
as they only hold a handful of what we carry in our hearts.

She wanted less
as being in the act of loving is the dream.

Copyright 2016 © Jessie Wright

Songbirds. {Poetry}

Do the songbirds in their yellow suits
dancing across the Magnolia’s limbs
ever feel a panic come over them?

Sweaty claws
let go of the bark,
darting away,
hearts beating uncontrollably,
and yet there’s hesitation
on looking back at what they left;


do the songbirds
in their yellow suits
sing away
their fears,
panic falling in the wild rye,
as their melody floats
across the morning sky?

           I am not separate from nature, but, sadly, there have been times when I lived divided from the beauty of the wild spaces, and yet I always return to them.

         In nature, the I becomes a disappearing act into the wild. I forget about me. I lose track off my problems, and take delight in the beautiful simplicity of such a multifaceted world.

      Nature isn’t far away from any of us, and yet so many of us forget to find solace there. She’s a dandelion growing in between the cracks of the concrete. A hawk flying over the city park. The lavenders and pinks on the clouds at sunrise.

      Nature is always there, but many of us have chosen not to interact with the beautiful simplicity.

       In fact, a term—Nature-deficit Disorder (NDD)—was coined for this disconnect between nature and humans. It isn’t a medical term, but more of a way in calling attention to how people’s disengagement from experiencing nature may be detrimental for their well-being.

“Nature-deficit disorder describes the human costs of alienation from nature, among them:  diminished use of the senses, attention difficulties, and higher rates of physical and emotional illnesses,” wrote Richard Louv in his book, The Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature-deficit Disorder.

       I agree with Louv’s perspective as I am reenergized after spending even 10 minutes in Nature.

       In recognizing my connection to the songbirds, the worms, and even the vultures, I can see that my problems are just problems: they’re a story.

     Like the songbirds that I wrote about in the above poem, I can either stay trapped by panic about a particular story or I can sing a song: live my moments with a lilting tune instead of being fearful.

     To do so, I’ll only need to do two things: zip up my boats & put on my little yellow rain jacket for a slow long walk in Nature.

Copyright 2016 © Jessie Wright