Farrah Theresa - sing into existence

Imagine having a song that awakens those dormant parts of yourself, that reminds you of who you are, that could give you hints on why you are here, or perhaps simply tell you where you are headed.

A song to listen to from time to time to refresh your spirit and quiet the chatter of your mind who always makes you believe she knows best.
These are Oracle Songs, and this is the story of Farrah. 

Tanya Gervasi: Do you remember the first time you sang?

Farrah Theresa: I go back to two memories. The first was singing in a quire as a little girl, being forced to do that. And then in quite an opposite memory, sitting on my bed in 2010, I just quietly started mixing my poetry with a guitar that I could barely play.  My friend actually messaged me recently, and said, I remember when you started playing with my guitar, and being like, I'm just gonna try it out, and she would hear me singing from my room.

I wonder if as children we do sing but don’t remember….

We just don't remember things like that Oh, Well, now that it's my ... There we go you did it, you said, children, and what I actually used to do was sing for all my pets. So my my family would be out of the house and I'd be just be doing something, and I would just sing to them because no one could hear me, and I would make up giant beautiful stories and just like sing their existence alive and sometimes my family would catch me, you know, looking really weird here. It was, I think, the first time that I would be experimented with stories and songs, and singing to this really non-judgmental audience, and mostly cats growing up.


Oh, that's so beautiful! 
How, how does it feel to be so free to use your voice?
And I ask because it's interesting like for example today at some point there was this song: Girls just want to have fun, and I really felt like part of me wanted to just shout, and I held myself because I was like, Oh, my God! If I shout, it will not come out as nice. So I just sang, but to myself not too loud not to get out of control. So I was wondering, how does it feel for you to be so free? And unafraid.

What comes through thinking about it and I try to reflect on those moments there it's like a no-thought process because it is so much a part of me and when it's happening I'm not thinking about it and although there was a point in my life where it was heavier to even imagine myself being there, now it's just like embodied liberation. You know it feels like when I held myself back like you described that it feels painful and so the the opposite is to express from this place of deep knowing, and it's not even whether I know I'm gonna be on key or aligned. Rather knowing that I love this moment, and I'm going to join in with it.

It's this interesting combination of like resonance love and freedom. And, for instance, I sing at a yoga studio, last night we stayed together afterwards to have a little jam, and without practicing our voices we're just so in unison and all of us burst out laughing afterwards, and we tried to describe why we were laughing, but it was because we couldn't discuss we couldn't describe that feeling of being in resonance and you know it's not so much about being in tune. It was more just being in music to get it so it's like connection and liberation, love and resonance, and it also comes with a good feeling of relief. Like I can be here in this right now and trust that whatever was coming out of my mouth, whether I'm singing or talking to you that's right that's perfect whatever's coming and even saying that in this moment, just makes me want to settle back and you know that's what it feels like…. (She exhales a big sigh of relief)


How did you get to this point? If there was a time, as you say, when you did hold yourself back, how one gets to the point where that's just a memory. It's not part of who you are today.

I think it's larger process of belief and believing in yourself and not letting us get muddied by comparison, and what you're supposed to sound like. For instance for a long time I sort of rejected any compliments, I didn't know how to handle them, and everyone was like, Why aren't you recording your music. I’v been like that for like 10/11 years and I would always just sort of push a back their comments but it was because a part of me didn't fully believe what I was capable of. And I’m at this point now where it's just so obvious that this is a gift that I have, and suppressing that nature, whatever gift you have, suppressing your natural gift is a complete disservice to not only you but everyone else around you. And the more I've owned that, the more confident I've become in spaces. I became confident enough to have humility in situations where I don't have to sing, I don't have to open my mouth. You know, in the first few years of singing and discovering that I have a powerful voice I I sang at every opportunity, and I overstrained my voice. I always tried too much, you know, and it was like I needed to explore it first to come back down into resonance, and I actually lost my voice for a while, because I used to teach people how to plant trees in South Africa with an amazing organisation called GreenPop. So I was facilitating every day, then seeing at night, and my voice became hoarse, and I had to see a speaker therapist to help me like fix my throat. It was all a part of me doing too much and pushing myself out there, instead of being balanced and doing the work that I'm supposed to do with my song and my voice, which is not necessarily to be a famous performer but is to go into these therapeutic grounds.

That journey has just allowed me to settle into my own colour and tone, and know that whatever medicine is coming to me as I’m experiencing is their medicine and that's exactly what needs to be heard, and it didn't need to be like this person, or that person. I often see when I'm singing that it's great and then my mind wants to take over at the end of the set. Then I remember what I felt and I remember what I was feeling like coming out of a gig, and people crying in front of me, and they're like What you did was so powerful, and I was like, Oh, what did I do. And I tried to quantify it so often, then when I stopped trying to quantify it and just accepted to be in the the feeling and in the emotion it gave me that sense of liberation and acceptance… like accepting myself for that pathway that I've been on to get here.
It's definitely a rocky road because being creative you're so naked. On stage and in the essence of my soul I've always attempted to do that with all of my gigs like I'm here and I am I’m gonna tell you my story: take it or leave it. And so you can get bruised in that sense, your skin is bare anything can grasp you, and it's the process of learning that you have the ability to heal those scratches and that your bravery for showing up with your gift is what matters in the end, whether or not you have the voice of a song with or not, it's just being in your authentic self and really presenting that and trusting yourself.

Have you ever wanted or dreamed of becoming famous singer? When one presents herself as musician we have a preconception of what and how does it look a person who is a musician or a singer. Meeting you it’s a discovery how that one gift can come into life, under what expression, form, and purpose. So have you ever dreamt of becoming like Mariah Carey?

Okay, definitely not Mariah Carey. But when you were using the word musician now like that it struck a memory for me, because it took me a long time to even claim that title “Musician”. Like I started it off as artist, then maybe seen as songwriter, and eventually came in as musician. I went to university with lots of amazing musicians who were studying music, so I felt all of a sudden that I couldn't pull myself that label if I wasn't studying it but I know that I am it because I’ve been playing music since I was around 8 or 9 years old, and I think in the real true definition of a musician it's someone who's able to catch the Song of Life and the rhythm of every day, and use instruments to navigate that. I do that and my greatest instrument is my voice, and piano, guitar and handpan as well. But my voice and piano is the strongest for me and I think that I've always grappled with the notion of being really well known or just doing my thing and kind of being under the cover. 

I grew up with a lot of different female folk artists and I went through a particular stage where I was listening to a lot of Laura Marling, Anya Marina and this guy called Johnny Flynn as well, their music was awesome. Actually a lot of them come from the London area. I was so inspired by how simple their music was and how they weren't on these big stages.They were just playing the music, and that's how I wanted to play. I didn't want to be on a massive stage I just wanted to be on a wooden deck paying my music to people that were listening, but I grappled with the difficulty of seeing people that were around my same age and getting really famous and playing at huge festivals. And Oh, my gosh! Is that what I want? Why do I feel this jealousy? I think it was partly a part of me not having owned the fact that I did want to just be recognised for my music when I was younger. And so I think I still want that form of recognition.

Now that I know that my music has medicinal quality it feels different. It feels like I can step into it more authentically, instead of from this place of wanting to be as good as this person I was comparing myself to. I realised that what I saw is not what I wanted but what I wanted was to trust myself and to trust that I am perfectly talented in the way that I am made, instead of getting caught up in other people's comparative comments.
Just owning that my stage is a small stage but it's a stage nonetheless.

My favourite place to play really is in yoga studios and small sacred spaces, because people are listening. I hate playing in crowded bars where no one's paying attention and It's not necessarily about paying attention to me but I just want people to listen to the lyrics because that's what I think has a big impact.
I had a bit of a humbling experience last night because I was singing in a Kundalini class and everyone was breathing really loud, I was got worried, Oh, my gosh, can they even hear what I'm saying, and after everyone said, Yeah, we heard you fine and even if we didn't hear the song, it was the vibration that mattered. That's great. Not quite the same experience in a bar. Now I found my place, and I’ve found a way that my music works. I would still love to sing at some festivals but they better be folk festivals, and I very better have as much comfort as I can get like pillows and friends, and intimacy, you know the intimacy is really what's powerful about being up there.

It would be so cool to have instead everyone on the stage with you lying on pillows, chilling and listening!
So it seems like obviously you were born with this gift and you were expressing it from a young age. I'm wondering was anyone around you aware of it? And were you aware of it? And if you weren't, when did you recognise your own gifting?

My mom was always aware, always. She's an incredibly intuitive being and a shamanic practitioner from a couple of traditions. She always listened to me like she was listening to something else. My deepest, or, like my most poignant memory of her listening to me, was when I used to play the piano in the Great Hall of the university I used to go to, and there was nobody else that would come to the Hall. It was just me and so sometimes, when she visited, I would go play the piano, and she just listened. I would intuitively play, no music in front of me, just saying what I was feeling. The piano truly was my first vehicle for this medicine, like the channel really. Then afterwards, she would say to me, Farrah you know it's not just me listening in this room, there's other things that you're speaking to or Spirits that you're tapping into. So we would both sit in a kind of a trance afterwards. Sometimes when I would play there alone, I could feel like I had an audience behind me even if there was no one and there were shimmers of light in this old Hall.
That was a really powerful thing I used to do but never own, and I was always thinking, Oh, this is something I can do, and I don't know why I can do it, but it feels like the most natural thing that I can do. I could just always feel like something else speaking through me but I never told anyone about it besides my mom.

Then I had a bad breakup, as it goes when you're 20/21. I've been writing poetry since I was like 14 or something, so I really had a way with words, and I picked up the guitar post break up because my ex at that point was a musician so obviously I'm gonna prove him, let me be an amazing musician too! I started writing poetry together with the guitar. Very slowly at first, and it always just sort of fell out of me like with the piano, again I wasn't thinking I would just start singing and the words would come. Before you knew it, this was in 2010, I had 5 or 6 songs written within a few days. It never takes me long to write a song. It's always about an hour that it comes out because I'm like, Oh, here it is. I need to be in the creation, and then I work on it after it. Then I started singing again to my mom and she listened, and then her partner started listening. They encouraged me to sing for other people, so I started to play for my friends and they were like Oh, you should play for house parties. Therefore my first official gig was a house party at the end of 2010. I remember wearing my mom's red velvet jacket, which I still have, from when she was 16, and these weird lace up boots and my hair was very long and wild, with chubby-ish cheeks. I found photos recently! I’ll never forget the feeling of being able to share my poetry with people in song format, all of a sudden I had people who wanted to listen and who kept encouraging me. It was all because it started with that safe space and my very supportive mother. 

I wonder if it's really safety that we need in order to express our deepest gift, or whether feeling safe allows that gift to resurface?

It's interesting that I use that word so much, safety. You know I think that safety can also just come from this place you're in and I mean physically the environment that you're in. I moved a lot as a child and so the common denominator was my mom. She moved me, but she was also always there and there was a trust, a standard trust. You know one of the places that I find inspiration from is nature but really in places where I develop a relationship with a place it feels safer, so it's more about I think the relationship than it is about safety. It's about trust and familiarity. Trust that in that familiarity there is space for change, like the museums. 

You wrote mainly for yourself, how did you start singing for others and channeling for others in your Oracle Songs?

I can't remember when the first time was when I did it, maybe 2011 or 2012. I have this strong humorous side and it often just comes out when I'm on stage for some reason. I mean when I'm on stage, I just become this almost like the gesture slash Musical Muse, and she just comes alive.

So what I do or did at the end of every set I played in in Cape Town, was have a 20 min slot where I would improvise, and I would call out to the crowd - God, knows what gave me the confidence to do this, but I would go to the crowd and tell them give me 3 words and I'll write a song for you right now. So people would say, octopus, ocean and carpet and I was like, okay, and then bang there was a 6 to 7 minutes song. I would get the whole crowd involved and everyone banging on drums or standing up, and I’d tell everyone to hold hands and I turned the room into a cult, you know, like about the octopus on the carpet in the ocean, or whatever. It was fun, it was strange and I enjoyed it because I was creating with people in a space. Oh, just feeling it now it's so exciting and I'll never forget the last time I did that in Cape Town. I was in a very small venue, it was an evening of female performers, and I just played the handpan for the first time. Then I say to the crowd Okay, it's time to improvise so I ask them the same question, and I remember specifically a lama, the desert, and also the carpet. I just conjured the most delirious and fun song, that the whole little venue of people was just sitting and laughing. We were all just in it together, and it was really wonderful, and it was a great experience. But it was really, in a sense, still gimmicky. I was always me being like, Hey, look! I can do this, but not realising what it was.

It wasn't until a couple years later, when I moved to Canada in 2018. I started doing the same improvising thing, just in a yoga studio while everyone is doing their yoga. I would sit at the back and play my music very quietly… I mean all of a sudden I had this beautiful therapeutic space to sing in and I didn't have to ask anyone to give me anything I just sang what I felt in the room, and that some people would be saying it was so beautiful, and then my yoga teacher was like, You're improvising weren’t you.. Yeah. So I hung on to that word, improvising, improvising, improvising. And when you think of improvisation you think of people that are putting the improvised play, you know it's got this gimmick and this funniness to it. So there's not really a certain honour necessarily or honouring.

Then I went to one of my first Plant Medicine Ceremonies in 2020, and I had asked before the ceremony to this very gentle plant, what are my tools? What gifts do I need to use in this world? I came out of the ceremony the next day and I went straight to the piano and started playing. People came up to me saying that's really beautiful and one friend in particular was like, Do you want to sing me a song? And I started singing for him, and it was fun, and then another person was like, Oh, can you do that for me? I sat down and now people were listening to me, so I sang the song for her and I opened my eyes, and everyone was crying, including me and she said to me, Wow! I see those images all the time, I have a big affinity to that element you're singing about.
And they said, You can sing people's souls and be a channel for it. I broke down because, Wow! This is what I'm here to do, I'm here to use my body as a vessel to sing for people. So I called them Soul Songs first because I thought I'm tapping into people's souls and that's how I did for about a year. Then I realised that it was more expansive than that. And that's why I decided to end up calling them Oracle Songs. Because as an Oracle comes you don't know what's gonna come from you and it's not necessarily about the soul, it could be about an event, it could be about what's happening right now in your life. So I no longer refer to it as improvising, but as channeling, and I also just started to own that, it's not something that people really generally accept but you know all musicians are channels, all of them are and I'm just happy to own it.

Here they stand as Oracle Songs and they keep getting deeper and more powerful as I open the channel more and more, and also increase the trust in myself to be able to do that. Remembering how I used to dishonour it  and now realising the more you give something reverence, the more reverent the experience will be.

How have you seen your life change since you started owning your power?

That feeling is really like I am, relief (she sits back and lets go of a big loud exhale).
I don't hide this as I did. I am more confident about speaking about my gifts and things that people may not be entirely comfortable with or know anything about. And I've also made space for more synchronicity in my life, because I'm doing my work and no longer putting it to the side. You know it's like life in the universe offers you the river like Oh, you're in the river now keep going.
I think if I remember correctly there was that river in your song and it's almost as if I've called the right people into my life as well, and I'm no longer doing things that feel draining. I mean there are some things for sure, but I have this space inside of myself and connections with people I never dreamt I could connect with because of this. I feel this ball of emotion in my chest of gratitude and like, Oh, you did it! You finally listened.

I still think there's a lot, that path is long, and I'm so excited to see what comes from it, because I feel I'm just in the fruit trees but I can be even deeper in the forest. It really has taught me how to declutter my life and gain clarity on my everyday life, and to trust myself and in so doing, by trusting myself, I become more trustworthy, and then I can also trust others more, which allows for the development of deeper, greater relationships. It helps me be more mindful of the way that I interact with people, and it helps me check my ego more often. Which we all need a reminder of from time to time.

It has given me this incredible medicinal practice that is uniquely mine and I no longer need a space outside of myself to feel that safety or that trust that we were talking about, I just need this thing. I feel at home.