I Did Something Terrifying. Here’s How.
Dear Reader,
For years, there’s been a part of me waiting to come back to life.
Songwriting.
There’s something vulnerable about returning to a part of myself that has been waiting a long time for my attention. I don’t know exactly what will happen as I open this door. I just know I can’t keep it closed. Somewhere along the way, I realized I’m soul sick without it.
Perhaps it’s the uncertainty of putting something you love into a world that doesn’t always make room for it. As an Afghan-American refugee and rock poet, I’ve often kept my relationship work separate from my creative life.
But I don’t think they’re separate anymore.
The same part of me that invites people to risk telling the truth in their relationships is the part of me that writes songs. The part that wants us to stop hiding, stop abandoning ourselves, and let ourselves be seen. Turns out, I have some skin in this game, too. I’m learning to practice that same courage in my own creative life, making room for something that matters deeply to me.
So, I’m making music again. And not quietly.
I’m bringing a new six-song EP to life, along with a music video. These songs hold some of what I care about most: love, belonging, power, resistance, and what it means to remain human in a world that can make loving fiercely feel like a radical act.
It’s taken courage, time, money, and a willingness to let myself be seen in a new way. And honestly? It feels like coming home.
And I haven’t found my way here alone. Along the way, people have loved me toward this.
Kim Berlin, my soul guide, has held me in just about every way a human can hold another. She’s helped me clear the emotional debris that gets in the way of my confidence, find balance in the chaos that can be my fretful mind, move my energy when it was stuck in anxiety, and see myself when I’ve forgotten who I am. She’s even weighed in on wardrobe, jewelry, and album art. She reflects me back to myself in a thousand different ways.
Joseph Picone, my collaborator, has helped transform powerful lyrics and melodies into soulful, moving arrangements — while reminding me that the time for these songs is now and that I have my own unique gifts as an artistic activist and songwriter.
Because my resistance can look like perfectly reasonable excuses, some of them sounding downright responsible, too. Save the money. Focus on the practical things. Art is a luxury, after all. If you’ve ever postponed something meaningful because you weren’t quite ready, you know this one.
And Richard, my beloved, who rarely insists on anything, insisted I get back in the studio and record these songs. He encouraged me when I felt doubtful, grounded me when I was overwhelmed, and cleared the way by caring for us so I could do something I might not have found the courage to do on my own.
These humans, they make love tangible. Sometimes being held looks like someone helping you with the actual, messy, beautiful business of bringing yourself into the world. This creative fire may be mine to tend, but I haven’t kindled it alone.
In my relational work, I invite people to show up as they are, tell the truth, and let themselves be seen in the messy middle of becoming. Now I’m practicing that in a new way.
I want this music to be more than something I make and send out into the world. I want the making of it to be a place where we can gather — around creativity, courage, and the things that remind us we’re still here, still feeling, still capable of making something beautiful together.
I’ve launched a Kickstarter to help bring this music and its accompanying video into the world. If something here sparks in you, come closer. Step inside the creative process with me. Be part of putting something human, honest, and a little rebellious into the world.
Whether you back the project or pass it along to someone who might need inspiration right now, I’d love to have you in this with me.
And maybe your creative courage looks nothing like mine. Maybe it’s a conversation you’ve been avoiding, a part of yourself you’re ready to reclaim, a dream you’ve kept buried away, or the willingness to let yourself be seen in a new, prismatic way.
Whatever it looks like, you deserve to be held in it. You deserve people who will love you toward the things that make you feel more fully alive.
With love and holy fire,
Fereshta
