I have been in deep reflection on suffering. On how I suffer, on how we suffer collectively as a society, and on getting stuck in my own mush of feelings. Being away from home offers me an opportunity to go deep and explore uncomfortable emotions.
After a rather long and adventurous week in Kauai, I am thankful for a return to the comfort of my own bed, my books, and my nourishing home-cooked meals. There is something so warm and cozy about being in my own space.
To be present in such a unique, tropical place was captivating, but I couldn’t help thinking about how much I love and prefer Maui. Yes, I enjoyed the lush greenery that surrounded me, yes the ocean was beautiful and warm to enjoy some earth grounding swimming in a safe protected bay, yes the people were spectacular, but there was something missing from the experience.
Maybe it’s because my energy is shifting inwards to match the introspection of deciduous trees in Fall, maybe it’s because I am grieving certain blossoming friendships cut short, maybe it’s because I spent time experiencing Summer differently than usual-pushing myself out of my comfort zones and am feeling overly tired. Maybe all of this change is upsetting to my nervous system.
Nevertheless, I am allowing myself to sit with the uncomfortable emotions and just be. Not trying to mitigate the pain, not trying to keep myself busy to ignore the ache in my body, but just sinking into feeling my sadness, my sorrow, and my loss. Change has been happening much faster than usual as of late.
This month has been a period of deep change and self-work. I have been actively confronting my shadow side. I have been placing this task on the back burner for a few years and it appears that it is now or never. With this work, I am ensuring I don’t move too quickly and end up in a state of emotional shock. Music is centering in the forefront as I start to take big strides towards my pursuits and a new album, Pleas for Mother Earth, is set to be released this Fall. With this, I invite you to presave my upcoming single that will be coming out on October 1st!
Tragically, my iMac is still giving me issues with home recording. As I have exhausted all options, I think it is time to let the machine go. My feelings towards the machine is now at exasperation. In August, I recorded some new songs in the studio and experienced even more disappointment, finally pushing me to pivot to setting up my own home studio for good. As of now, I plan to use my laptop and make it work.
Finally, I am opening up my monthly subscription side of Substack so you all will be able to listen to demos, download unreleased songs, read my poetry, secret playlists, and have a birds-eye view of my writing process via livestreams. With Mercury Retrograde approaching, I am equal parts excited and nervous to see what comes to fruition. Although it can be quite an unstable period, I do tend to accomplish a lot of writing during this time.
Do you reflect on yourself during trips as well?
What are you looking forward to as the season changes?
As summer winds down, I leave you with a poem.
I feel the weight of my own expectations
A made up version of myself
A made up scenario
Like a vanishing isle
One filled with a happy life
And no strife.
Written under a Sagittarius, First Quarter Moon 🌓
Xx,
Fo Fera
Song of the week: Entre nous by Jill Barber
Mantra of the week: I am no longer in the business of letting my ego stifle my possibility.
p.s. This week’s quote was from someone whom I met at the place we were staying in on Kauai and made me feel more understood than anyone ever has after having heard one of my songs. As an artist, when we share our work we release it to be interpreted by the listener in however they need the support. Often when people share what my song meant to them it has nothing to do with what it means for me, but that’s not the point of why I create. My ego is partially removed from my creative process so I can channel what is needed. I am always flattered that I have such an incredible group of supporters who appreciate my work and support what I do. Maybe this is why songs can feel like being wrapped in a warm blanket.