It happened again today. Someone sent yet another email letter about their experience in the theater and someone I ran into while Christmas shopping told me that she read my guest column and then the piece about "This Is It" and wanted me to know something:
"This is going to sound strange..."
"Probably not."
"There is something about the movie, about seeing Michael Jackson, about..."
"Yes."
"What do you mean, yes? Do you know what I am talking about?"
"Well, yes; I hear that a lot."
(And the story begins...)
"I was drawn to the movie "This Is It." It was almost magnetic, I had to go back again..."
"Uh huh."
"And then I started playing all his music again..."
"Uh huh."
"And then I read his book..."
"Sure."
"And then I went to you tube and started watching the videos..."
"Of course you did."
"And I was up all night."
"And how did you feel the next day?"
"Well, I kind of felt two things. I really missed him. And I'm not really a fan. I mean I didn't know his work and his life except for, well, you know..."
"Uh huh. And now?"
"Well it's really strange, but I miss him. And I feel kind of lost. Or like something is lost."
"Something you can't put your finger on, right?"
"Yeah. I'm not sure I can explain it."
"That's Ok, you don't have to. I get it."
"So what is going on?"
(Here is where I smile and just ask questions:)
"When you were in the movie, or afterward or maybe later, what did you notice? How did you feel? How did you get home, do you remember? What were your emotions doing? Did you feel lightheaded? Did you dream that night? Of what? Did something later in the day or night startle you? Did you have "goose bumps" or did the hair stand at attention somewhere on your body? Did you "shake something off" after the movie? Feel disturbed? Did you cry? Did something feel unfinished?"
"How did you know?"
"Well, I've seen this before. Stay tuned."
"For what?"
"I'm not sure. But something."
"I even ordered the DVD."
"Of course you did." (smile)
"Why do you have that maddening smile on your face?"
"Oh no reason. I LOVE it! You are one!"
"One what?"
"Not a what, a who."
"Who?"
"Yeah, who's on first." (now it's a grin)
"First? First what?"
"Well, look, I'd say you should watch what shows up in your life; I think you're going to have some work to do."
"Funny you should mention that; I've had this feeling that I'm supposed to be doing something but I have no idea what."
"Hmmmm, really?"
"Yeah it's really weird."
"Not so weird, Obe Wan."
"What? What did you call me?"
"Oh nothing. I just think it's all very interesting."
"Yeah well you got any idea what's going on?"
"Uh huh. Go to: onewordsmith.com , scroll down until you see the earth and the title "Did You Get the Invitation?"
"And?"
"Read."
"And then?"
"You might want to rent the movie."
Thursday
Monday
Michael Jackson Bright Shadow and Finding your Inner Michael
“Children show me in their playful smiles the Divine in everyone. This simple goodness shines straight from their hearts and only asks to be lived. Let us dream of tomorrow where we can truly love from the soul, and know love as the ultimate truth at the heart of all creation.” ~Michael Jackson
That is Bright Shadow talk. Michael Jackson’s greatest gift to the world was his “Bright Shadow.” It was also the thing that invited the world to crucify him. Because of humanity’s lack of maturity and enlightenment, we do not dare to shine too brightly for fear that someone will notice! So we hide our brilliance, our gifts, our genius, the beauty that lives inside that we are meant to share with the world. Michael recognized the Bright Shadow within himself and he worked very hard to perfect it, communicate with it, communicate it and to gift it to the world. He knew himself to be that... Was the world ready?
If in living my life, I am mostly identified with shadow and I notice that you are shimmering, it can become an irritant to me because it can be a constant and thorny reminder of how un-shiny I am. The contrast between us becomes emphasized or highlighted. If I am dark and moody it doesn’t make me feel better to stand next to your light and laughter; it can make me resent, hate, and even designate you, the offender, as my nemesis. If I don’t love and accept myself then I am not likely to love and accept you, am I? If I constantly compare the self that operates in the world with my vision of my idealized self, then I can never measure up. And God help you if you do measure up—especially if that “measuring” is in my face, in my presence or has any magnitude like being prominent in the world or on a global stage. That is truly “Dangerous” to me.
Carl Jung introduced the idea of Bright Shadow or Golden Shadow and Maslow talked about the “Jonah Complex” which is the fear of exposing your highest potential or true nature. I call it the “Divine Blueprint” which holds the seeds of all the possibilities of who we are and who we can become. It is the “Christ within” that so much theological literature talks about—either esoterically or in allegory. Christ said about miracles that we are all capable of that. “Greater than me” he said of our potential. Other world religions have the same theme somewhere in their literature. You become the Buddha when you reach within to find the inner Buddha. It’s the “way of the Shaman” who walks in two worlds and is in touch with higher and lower realities—the tribe’s cultural guide, healer, priest, medicine man and wise elder. It is the principle that calls forth the healing and the highest potential of the human.
Marianne Williamson eloquently describes this phenomenon in her famous quote: “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
Michael Jackson knew Bright Shadow. He embodied it. He embraced his gifts, gave gratitude for them and shared them with the world. He then encouraged others to share their gifts with the world. We all have this shimmering self inside just waiting to be born. Michael often spoke about the inner Bright Shadow though he never called it that. He saw it in children and he saw it dimming in adults who buckled under the strain of the loss of innocence and the assaults of the world on once tender psyches. Michael's Neverland home featured scuptures, statues and paintings with carefree children, figures that delight and nude cherubs, the mythological symbols for the nurtured bright shadow, the innocent and inner child with complete self acceptance and love. The appearance of these bright children in art is a reminder of the child in us and the bright shadow that lives within each child that's born. It's a timeless universal symbol that appears in great paintings and sculpture throughout history and contemporary art in every culture around the world. It's the subliminal message that whispers without words: "This is who you really are!"
Denying this shining part of ourselves is like abandoning the sweetest kernel of who we are. When we do that, we feel an emptiness, a void, the abyss of self that is deep, painful and longs to be filled. The presence of this craving for being “full” can take the form of addictions, the quest for material goods, an angry sense of entitlement, self destructive tendencies, ruthless competition, a need to feel superior to others, the impulse to tear down someone on a pedestal, to ridicule others for the failings we dare not acknowledge in ourselves. Any distraction, anything to fill the emptiness.
It holds the deeper meaning of Michael’s “Man in the Mirror.” It is the part of us that cannot bear to look at the truth of who we are being so we disown it and project it onto others. We can’t see ourselves clearly so we ask others to wear what we can’t bear to acknowledge in self. “Here,” we say to those we view as ‘other’ will you wear my Bright Shadow for me? I want to put you on a pedestal and worship you from afar because you embody everything that I aspire to be. You are the light that I hope to be because I don’t recognize it in me. Please will you be my savior? If you will be that for me you get my perpetual adoration because I will feel relieved and now I don’t have to shine for myself.”
In the mirror also is the wounded part of us who hides from our own shadow. “Here,” we say, “will you wear this darkness for me? I can’t bear to acknowledge my own shadow nature so I will push it into the subconscious, push it down, forget or deny it and then project it onto you. You are the ‘bad guy’ whom I can make fun of, hold contempt for, be prejudiced against, call names, and distance myself from. Will you be my criminal? My enemy? My stupidity? My ignorance? My failings? My worst nightmare? The grand threat? Evil Empire? The mega-danger? The devil? My Satan?”
The brilliance of shadow is that if we make it known and visible, we reclaim the lost babe in ourselves. We can then nurture and cradle that tender, innocent and shimmering part that longs for acceptance and love. How then do we make the shadow visible? We look at where we are uncomfortable, at where we judge other people, at where we have “charge” or anger. We look courageously at our greatest fears and we walk right into them, emerging the victorious conqueror. When something is dark in our lives or we have created chaos or pain for ourselves, we can ask “What would a person have to believe in order to create......... in their life” and that simple exercise can tease out hidden shadow and shine light onto the wound. We project shadow onto others because of our own woundedness. Heal the wound and free self, others and the world.
"In the end, the most important thing is to be true to yourself and those you love, and work hard. Work like there's no tomorrow. Train. Strive. Really train and cultivate your talent to the highest degree. Be the best at what you do. Get to know more about your field than anybody alive. Use the tools of your trade, if it's books or a floor to dance on or a body of water to swim in. Whatever it is, it's yours. That's what I've always tried to remember." - Michael Jackson.
In Michael’s “Stranger in Moscow” he wanders the streets alone and in the rain in a video that is black and white. It is a stark picture of shadow projected onto him. His “swift and sudden fall from grace” is the shadow descending upon him. “We’re talkin’ danger, baby.” Look behind the thing you fear most in life, and you will its Bright Shadow counterpart- the part where you shimmer. Look behind your greatest joy and meaning in life and there is where you will find the greatest darkness that can befall you. Michael was given the opportunity to face down his greatest fear in his lifetime. No, it wasn’t fair and it wasn’t just and it certainly wasn’t necessary but from the viewpoint of the soul, it was precious treasure. The “dark night of the soul” is a painful journey but it plumbs the darkness like no other experience. Michael encountered a great deal of the world's projected shadow.
One of the greatest fears of the human psyche is extinction or annihilation. That shadow fear was up in the world and prominent through the Russian-American arms race and the cold war. Nuclear annihilation was a daily threat. Because of my experience “Stranger in Moscow” has great meaning for me. I took that same walk. Through the streets of Moscow. Alone. I grew up under the specter of “Communists,” “nukes” and potential world destruction: ‘shadow” on a global scale. A photo of St. Basil’s Cathedral and Red Square would strike fear in the heart of any American then.
So when I went to Russia to work within the Sister Cities Project, I faced my greatest fear—“The Russians are coming!” Instead, I came to the Russians and made friends of my “enemies.” I walked the streets of Moscow and Chelyabinsk alone not speaking the language, not knowing the way, completely vulnerable and utterly alone in order to face down my greatest shadow fears. I left Russia a different woman than I arrived. There is power in looking in the mirror for shadow and facing it down. It restores a sense of freedom and lightness because it releases for use, all the energy that was stored in those dark places.
To get clues about your own bright shadow and its characteristics, look closely at those whom you admire. What is it that attracts you? What makes you smile? What do you admire in them? How do they touch you deeply? The object of adoration is a reflection of bright shadow characteristics of self. Who are your heroes? Your mentors? Whom do you look up to? Where do you find your inspiration? Your bright shadow is in those places, has those same characteristics.
That is Bright Shadow talk. Michael Jackson’s greatest gift to the world was his “Bright Shadow.” It was also the thing that invited the world to crucify him. Because of humanity’s lack of maturity and enlightenment, we do not dare to shine too brightly for fear that someone will notice! So we hide our brilliance, our gifts, our genius, the beauty that lives inside that we are meant to share with the world. Michael recognized the Bright Shadow within himself and he worked very hard to perfect it, communicate with it, communicate it and to gift it to the world. He knew himself to be that... Was the world ready?
If in living my life, I am mostly identified with shadow and I notice that you are shimmering, it can become an irritant to me because it can be a constant and thorny reminder of how un-shiny I am. The contrast between us becomes emphasized or highlighted. If I am dark and moody it doesn’t make me feel better to stand next to your light and laughter; it can make me resent, hate, and even designate you, the offender, as my nemesis. If I don’t love and accept myself then I am not likely to love and accept you, am I? If I constantly compare the self that operates in the world with my vision of my idealized self, then I can never measure up. And God help you if you do measure up—especially if that “measuring” is in my face, in my presence or has any magnitude like being prominent in the world or on a global stage. That is truly “Dangerous” to me.
Carl Jung introduced the idea of Bright Shadow or Golden Shadow and Maslow talked about the “Jonah Complex” which is the fear of exposing your highest potential or true nature. I call it the “Divine Blueprint” which holds the seeds of all the possibilities of who we are and who we can become. It is the “Christ within” that so much theological literature talks about—either esoterically or in allegory. Christ said about miracles that we are all capable of that. “Greater than me” he said of our potential. Other world religions have the same theme somewhere in their literature. You become the Buddha when you reach within to find the inner Buddha. It’s the “way of the Shaman” who walks in two worlds and is in touch with higher and lower realities—the tribe’s cultural guide, healer, priest, medicine man and wise elder. It is the principle that calls forth the healing and the highest potential of the human.
Marianne Williamson eloquently describes this phenomenon in her famous quote: “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
Michael Jackson knew Bright Shadow. He embodied it. He embraced his gifts, gave gratitude for them and shared them with the world. He then encouraged others to share their gifts with the world. We all have this shimmering self inside just waiting to be born. Michael often spoke about the inner Bright Shadow though he never called it that. He saw it in children and he saw it dimming in adults who buckled under the strain of the loss of innocence and the assaults of the world on once tender psyches. Michael's Neverland home featured scuptures, statues and paintings with carefree children, figures that delight and nude cherubs, the mythological symbols for the nurtured bright shadow, the innocent and inner child with complete self acceptance and love. The appearance of these bright children in art is a reminder of the child in us and the bright shadow that lives within each child that's born. It's a timeless universal symbol that appears in great paintings and sculpture throughout history and contemporary art in every culture around the world. It's the subliminal message that whispers without words: "This is who you really are!"
Denying this shining part of ourselves is like abandoning the sweetest kernel of who we are. When we do that, we feel an emptiness, a void, the abyss of self that is deep, painful and longs to be filled. The presence of this craving for being “full” can take the form of addictions, the quest for material goods, an angry sense of entitlement, self destructive tendencies, ruthless competition, a need to feel superior to others, the impulse to tear down someone on a pedestal, to ridicule others for the failings we dare not acknowledge in ourselves. Any distraction, anything to fill the emptiness.
It holds the deeper meaning of Michael’s “Man in the Mirror.” It is the part of us that cannot bear to look at the truth of who we are being so we disown it and project it onto others. We can’t see ourselves clearly so we ask others to wear what we can’t bear to acknowledge in self. “Here,” we say to those we view as ‘other’ will you wear my Bright Shadow for me? I want to put you on a pedestal and worship you from afar because you embody everything that I aspire to be. You are the light that I hope to be because I don’t recognize it in me. Please will you be my savior? If you will be that for me you get my perpetual adoration because I will feel relieved and now I don’t have to shine for myself.”
In the mirror also is the wounded part of us who hides from our own shadow. “Here,” we say, “will you wear this darkness for me? I can’t bear to acknowledge my own shadow nature so I will push it into the subconscious, push it down, forget or deny it and then project it onto you. You are the ‘bad guy’ whom I can make fun of, hold contempt for, be prejudiced against, call names, and distance myself from. Will you be my criminal? My enemy? My stupidity? My ignorance? My failings? My worst nightmare? The grand threat? Evil Empire? The mega-danger? The devil? My Satan?”
The brilliance of shadow is that if we make it known and visible, we reclaim the lost babe in ourselves. We can then nurture and cradle that tender, innocent and shimmering part that longs for acceptance and love. How then do we make the shadow visible? We look at where we are uncomfortable, at where we judge other people, at where we have “charge” or anger. We look courageously at our greatest fears and we walk right into them, emerging the victorious conqueror. When something is dark in our lives or we have created chaos or pain for ourselves, we can ask “What would a person have to believe in order to create......... in their life” and that simple exercise can tease out hidden shadow and shine light onto the wound. We project shadow onto others because of our own woundedness. Heal the wound and free self, others and the world.
"In the end, the most important thing is to be true to yourself and those you love, and work hard. Work like there's no tomorrow. Train. Strive. Really train and cultivate your talent to the highest degree. Be the best at what you do. Get to know more about your field than anybody alive. Use the tools of your trade, if it's books or a floor to dance on or a body of water to swim in. Whatever it is, it's yours. That's what I've always tried to remember." - Michael Jackson.
In Michael’s “Stranger in Moscow” he wanders the streets alone and in the rain in a video that is black and white. It is a stark picture of shadow projected onto him. His “swift and sudden fall from grace” is the shadow descending upon him. “We’re talkin’ danger, baby.” Look behind the thing you fear most in life, and you will its Bright Shadow counterpart- the part where you shimmer. Look behind your greatest joy and meaning in life and there is where you will find the greatest darkness that can befall you. Michael was given the opportunity to face down his greatest fear in his lifetime. No, it wasn’t fair and it wasn’t just and it certainly wasn’t necessary but from the viewpoint of the soul, it was precious treasure. The “dark night of the soul” is a painful journey but it plumbs the darkness like no other experience. Michael encountered a great deal of the world's projected shadow.
One of the greatest fears of the human psyche is extinction or annihilation. That shadow fear was up in the world and prominent through the Russian-American arms race and the cold war. Nuclear annihilation was a daily threat. Because of my experience “Stranger in Moscow” has great meaning for me. I took that same walk. Through the streets of Moscow. Alone. I grew up under the specter of “Communists,” “nukes” and potential world destruction: ‘shadow” on a global scale. A photo of St. Basil’s Cathedral and Red Square would strike fear in the heart of any American then.
So when I went to Russia to work within the Sister Cities Project, I faced my greatest fear—“The Russians are coming!” Instead, I came to the Russians and made friends of my “enemies.” I walked the streets of Moscow and Chelyabinsk alone not speaking the language, not knowing the way, completely vulnerable and utterly alone in order to face down my greatest shadow fears. I left Russia a different woman than I arrived. There is power in looking in the mirror for shadow and facing it down. It restores a sense of freedom and lightness because it releases for use, all the energy that was stored in those dark places.
To get clues about your own bright shadow and its characteristics, look closely at those whom you admire. What is it that attracts you? What makes you smile? What do you admire in them? How do they touch you deeply? The object of adoration is a reflection of bright shadow characteristics of self. Who are your heroes? Your mentors? Whom do you look up to? Where do you find your inspiration? Your bright shadow is in those places, has those same characteristics.
The sun is another symbol of bright shadow. It too is depicted in cultures throughout the world from cave paintings to modern museums. Egypt made it a deity and Central American cultures worshipped it. Where is your inner sun? What energy and emotion lives in your "solar plexus?" Where do you shine? Want to shine? That is your inner bright shadow trying to be born.
We find Bright Shadow in our natural passions. What jazzes you? What tickles you, makes you giddy? What would you do with your “one wild and precious life” if you knew you could not fail? What would you become? Who would you be being? What brilliant contribution would you make to this world? That is the Bright Shadow. That is the Golden Child, the Brilliant You, the Divine Blueprint. That is to “bring salvation back.” That… is getting in touch with your Inner Michael.
Sunday
Michael Jackson Fans
Michael Jackson's one great and serious love affair was with his fans. A common exchange between Michael and a fan was:
“I love you Michael.”
“I love you more.”
He wasn’t kidding. He meant it. Literally. Lots of entertainers profess to love their fans but will not go out of their way to be kind or to see them certainly, as a force or a cultural base to change the world. Many rockers have been known to take advantage of vulnerable female fans. Michael had opportunities to do just that but was restrained and respectful of his fans, especially females. Michael seemed to feel not only their love, but their pain in not being able to express their feelings for him with physical closeness. Those feelings were not unrequited. But Michael seemed to understand that not being able to access the object of adolescent crushes and first loves is exquisitely painful. He was wise to that and able to feel it. Michael frequently dissolved into tears on stage after or during an encounter with a female fan.
An exquisitely lonely man, Michael admitted to his pain of separation and described that loneliness to many who knew him. He was one of the most visible people in the world and yet one of the most lonely. Imagine being in a hotel room in just about any city in the world with adoring fans camped outside your lodgings and not being able to see them, access them, chat with them or have any meaningful interactions. Imagine all that love coming toward you and not being able to access any of it personally, closely, physically or with sexual fulfillment. Michael called himself a “gentleman” when it came to women and the typical “Rocker” story exploitations of fans are glaring in their absence.
Michael would often hand write multiple copies of notes to fans while in his hotel rooms and sneak downstairs to glimpse his fans who were diehard and camped out silently near and around hotels just to be near him and his energy. Or he would write them notes that proclaimed that he could “feel their love through the walls” and would profusely thank them for their love and loyalty. He is known for delivering them himself if it was safe and at other times his security would hand them to fans. Have you ever heard of a Rockstar who did that? Michael would often direct his staff to purchase and deliver blankets and pillows to fans who were camped out in the cold overnight.
In his concerts in the 80s and 90s Michael would have bodyguards either allow or bring a fan onstage to be with Michael and dance with him while he sang a ballad, often “She's Out of My Life.” He did this consistently despite confessing that fans sometimes scared him because they tend to forget manners and convention in their frenzied state and they can pull hair and cause bodily harm. What is remarkable is what happened with each of those fans who made it onto the stage to touch him. Winding their arms around him not wanting to let go, they would vocalize their love for him with “I love you, Michael,” obvious with lip reading.
Many times they sobbed uncontrollably. Sometimes they fainted. One female fan fainted while standing with him on stage and Michael gently lifted her, carrying her across the stage to a bodyguard while he continued to sing. Every time, without fail, Michael would hug female fans genuinely and tenderly while firmly spanning and cradling the back of their head in his hand. Who does that? Only a man who understands women and knows what love really feels like—being held securely and cherished with a simple gesture. Often he would display the chivalrous bowing before the female object of his attention. Michael loved. He loved tenderly. He loved fiercely. It’s in his body language. And the one steady object of his adoration was his fans.
At his arraignment before the 2005 trial, he leaped onto the roof of a car to wave to fans and to have his videographer capture their presence and support at a difficult time in his life. Michael had his crew film everything. He was heavily criticized for that gesture. The media categorzed it as a circus atmosphere, the judge didn't appreciate it and to those who didn't know Michael like his fans and who didn't know what fans meant to him, saw it as disrespectful to the process and as cavalier and arrogant.
That gesture was to thank the fans, acknowledge them and to reassure himself that despite the circumstances, he was still beloved and that fans hadn't deserted him. Michael's gesture was spontaneous and typical Michael. He gave no thought to how it might be interpreted by the cynical audience and media frenzy that surrounded that trial. In every country he visited, Michael might jump on the roofs of vehicles to avoid the crush of rushing and aroused fans or to give them a better look. But the public had no way of knowing that. Michael's constant and only support during the five month ordeal were his fans and family. The absence of celebrities or friends flocking to support him was jarring. Michael needed his fans and to feel their love in order to withstand the relentless legal and personal assaults on his character during the grueling five months of that trial. He needed their energy to prop him up to withstand the daily barrage of insults and assaults upon his personhood and character. Fans got him through the trial. Fans and family.
I didn’t know about Michael Jackson fans until after his death. I supposed he had fans, but I didn’t really know them until I began researching about Michael and his life. Michael’s fans are all over the world and number in the millions. The Thriller album sold more than a hundred million copies.
Like any other celebrity, Michael’s fans are steadfast and loyal but there is an element that goes beyond the worldly manifestation of fan clubs for other entertainers. The exchange between Michael and his fans is, well… otherworldly. There is a tone surrounding Michael’s fans that is hard to describe. It’s as if each of them knows him personally, defends his reputation and his honor at any and every offense or assault, and they are kind and loving people. I began to read their postings as I began researching after his death and it became quickly evident that they all love him and believe implicitly in him and his character through everything that plagued this man throughout his lifetime. They have the facts; they have the evidence to back it all up. Because they follow everything about Michael, they have a context and a history that others are not privy to. Michael Jackson was and still is beloved. Agape? Of course. But he was and is “beloved” in the spiritual sense of the word. And it was not unrequited.
Michael’s fans have followed every event of his life; they know every career turn; they know all the albums and lyrics; they have followed press reports about the superstar; they know all the data. But something else defines Michael Jackson fans and I am at a loss to convey in any understandable terms. There is an unusual almost ethereal communication among his fans and his relationship with them was highly unusual. It is hard to describe and even harder to understand. But there was an element of recognition—a love force or energy, an energetic exchange between Michael and his fans that transcends norms. It couldn’t be seen with the naked eye but it was there. It’s as if they feel each other. Whatever it is or was, it is a new kind of language that the rest of us don’t speak.
During the 2005 trial and at other times, Michael Jackson fans were described as “rabid” or in some way unreasonable. Often they were depicted as being a little or a lot “loony” but that is simply not the case. They also were thought to be so enamored and blinded by the star that they abandoned all sense of propriety, reality or reason when it came to anything Michael. But that too, is simply not the case. MJ fans, as they call themselves know the man. They have a kind of advantage over the rest of society in understanding what non-fans and critics saw as “eccentricities” having simple and plausible explanations. To them it was Michael just being Michael. Because they know the history and have a fuller context of who Michael Jackson was. They have a mental timeline of who Michael was and what he did and there was a deeper understanding than the general public. They don’t excuse his behavior or overlook it because there is no need to. They understood that Michael was different and they fully accept that and see it as a grand reason to love him even more. This historical knowledge and timeline does make a difference—it places events into a context unavailable to most.
“True MJ fans” which is a moniker, speak with one voice regarding his character and his interactions with people and particularly with children. They even have a common language. One of the things that stands out when reading comments by his fans is the familiarity of all of them with what they call “MJ haters.” There is something unsettling and disturbing about the practices of these so called “MJ haters.” They show up on blogs and postings belittling him, his appearance and his character. They appear to be mostly males, mostly conservative Christians by the language and the slant of their posts, and they have very graphic and explicit damning things to say about his interest in children. They have twisted it into a caricature of thick, dark human shadow. They don’t seem to be aware that Michael Jackson was acquitted of all charges in his much publicized trial. “Not guilty” does not make for good tabloid fodder or economics and the yellow press milked the publicity in order to sell copy, so it is conceivable that these males actually did not hear or understand that the trial ended with a favorable outcome for Michael. But the peculiarity and specificity of their language is especially disturbing. It’s violent.
One has to wonder why these “MJ haters” as they are called, bother to monitor the Michael Jackson fan areas and take the opportunity to spew a vile brew of accusation, sensation and condemnation toward a man long ago found innocent. It’s not unusual to see duplicate postings on several sites, sometimes using the same name and obviously the same author. Those postings smack of sexual arousal, machismo gone rogue and a parallel thread of violence. It is obviously designed to arouse someone, but whom? It appears autoerotic. It does get a reaction. These comments are often followed by a “true Michael fan” commenting later to ignore the “hater.” Apparently the fans have experience with this kind of bating. It is apparent also that no amount of factual intervention will convince the unenlightened. There is something really disturbing about the nature of these entries and how forceful they are.
Freudian theory would suppose that the “haters” themselves are latent homosexuals who project their hatred of themselves and their closeted sexual identity confusion onto a representative target—ie. Michael Jackson. Jung would probably say they are displaying their own impotence with a demonstration of jealousy twisted toward a well known man who criticized and lacked machismo, embodied androgyny and sexuality and who aroused the paradox of sexual and maternal feelings in females. That too is evident in the comments by female fans who remark about Michael’s body. That has always been true; the sexual awakening in young females often finds a safe and inaccessible target. And they swoon. It was true for Elvis’ fans in his day and Frank Sinatra before him. The screaming of Beatles’ fans illustrates the same phenomena.
Michael was beloved everywhere in the world. No matter where he went, there were throngs of fans who loved Michael. The irony and paradox that stuns is the knowledge that he could not go out into public and interact with those who loved him because he would not be safe. While it is touching to be the target of so much love and adoration, the fame comes at an enormous cost. No privacy. No friends who know you just as Michael and not as Michael Jackson the mega-star.
Like any public figure and especially a celebrity, Michael attracted fans that could meet the definition of “crazed” but they aren’t many. I have corresponded with Michael’s fans from all over the world and have found them to be thoughtful, dedicated to justice, generous, philanthropic and highly intelligent. They range from children to doctoral candidates. And almost every one I have interacted with have Michael’s ministrations and message in mind—change the world and make it a better place. Love more. And I can tell you from personal experience—they do.
Michael Jackson's fans saw in Michael a light. A light, a love and a goodness that was a shroud that surrounded Michael's being. He shone and his love was shimmering. Fans knew it because they could feel it. It was that real and that palpable. And it is because of Michael that they are committed to making the world a better place. Michael was the messenger. His fans now are the message. Watch. Listen. Learn. Meet a Force that means to change the world.
“I love you Michael.”
“I love you more.”
He wasn’t kidding. He meant it. Literally. Lots of entertainers profess to love their fans but will not go out of their way to be kind or to see them certainly, as a force or a cultural base to change the world. Many rockers have been known to take advantage of vulnerable female fans. Michael had opportunities to do just that but was restrained and respectful of his fans, especially females. Michael seemed to feel not only their love, but their pain in not being able to express their feelings for him with physical closeness. Those feelings were not unrequited. But Michael seemed to understand that not being able to access the object of adolescent crushes and first loves is exquisitely painful. He was wise to that and able to feel it. Michael frequently dissolved into tears on stage after or during an encounter with a female fan.
An exquisitely lonely man, Michael admitted to his pain of separation and described that loneliness to many who knew him. He was one of the most visible people in the world and yet one of the most lonely. Imagine being in a hotel room in just about any city in the world with adoring fans camped outside your lodgings and not being able to see them, access them, chat with them or have any meaningful interactions. Imagine all that love coming toward you and not being able to access any of it personally, closely, physically or with sexual fulfillment. Michael called himself a “gentleman” when it came to women and the typical “Rocker” story exploitations of fans are glaring in their absence.
Michael would often hand write multiple copies of notes to fans while in his hotel rooms and sneak downstairs to glimpse his fans who were diehard and camped out silently near and around hotels just to be near him and his energy. Or he would write them notes that proclaimed that he could “feel their love through the walls” and would profusely thank them for their love and loyalty. He is known for delivering them himself if it was safe and at other times his security would hand them to fans. Have you ever heard of a Rockstar who did that? Michael would often direct his staff to purchase and deliver blankets and pillows to fans who were camped out in the cold overnight.
In his concerts in the 80s and 90s Michael would have bodyguards either allow or bring a fan onstage to be with Michael and dance with him while he sang a ballad, often “She's Out of My Life.” He did this consistently despite confessing that fans sometimes scared him because they tend to forget manners and convention in their frenzied state and they can pull hair and cause bodily harm. What is remarkable is what happened with each of those fans who made it onto the stage to touch him. Winding their arms around him not wanting to let go, they would vocalize their love for him with “I love you, Michael,” obvious with lip reading.
Many times they sobbed uncontrollably. Sometimes they fainted. One female fan fainted while standing with him on stage and Michael gently lifted her, carrying her across the stage to a bodyguard while he continued to sing. Every time, without fail, Michael would hug female fans genuinely and tenderly while firmly spanning and cradling the back of their head in his hand. Who does that? Only a man who understands women and knows what love really feels like—being held securely and cherished with a simple gesture. Often he would display the chivalrous bowing before the female object of his attention. Michael loved. He loved tenderly. He loved fiercely. It’s in his body language. And the one steady object of his adoration was his fans.
At his arraignment before the 2005 trial, he leaped onto the roof of a car to wave to fans and to have his videographer capture their presence and support at a difficult time in his life. Michael had his crew film everything. He was heavily criticized for that gesture. The media categorzed it as a circus atmosphere, the judge didn't appreciate it and to those who didn't know Michael like his fans and who didn't know what fans meant to him, saw it as disrespectful to the process and as cavalier and arrogant.
That gesture was to thank the fans, acknowledge them and to reassure himself that despite the circumstances, he was still beloved and that fans hadn't deserted him. Michael's gesture was spontaneous and typical Michael. He gave no thought to how it might be interpreted by the cynical audience and media frenzy that surrounded that trial. In every country he visited, Michael might jump on the roofs of vehicles to avoid the crush of rushing and aroused fans or to give them a better look. But the public had no way of knowing that. Michael's constant and only support during the five month ordeal were his fans and family. The absence of celebrities or friends flocking to support him was jarring. Michael needed his fans and to feel their love in order to withstand the relentless legal and personal assaults on his character during the grueling five months of that trial. He needed their energy to prop him up to withstand the daily barrage of insults and assaults upon his personhood and character. Fans got him through the trial. Fans and family.
I didn’t know about Michael Jackson fans until after his death. I supposed he had fans, but I didn’t really know them until I began researching about Michael and his life. Michael’s fans are all over the world and number in the millions. The Thriller album sold more than a hundred million copies.
Like any other celebrity, Michael’s fans are steadfast and loyal but there is an element that goes beyond the worldly manifestation of fan clubs for other entertainers. The exchange between Michael and his fans is, well… otherworldly. There is a tone surrounding Michael’s fans that is hard to describe. It’s as if each of them knows him personally, defends his reputation and his honor at any and every offense or assault, and they are kind and loving people. I began to read their postings as I began researching after his death and it became quickly evident that they all love him and believe implicitly in him and his character through everything that plagued this man throughout his lifetime. They have the facts; they have the evidence to back it all up. Because they follow everything about Michael, they have a context and a history that others are not privy to. Michael Jackson was and still is beloved. Agape? Of course. But he was and is “beloved” in the spiritual sense of the word. And it was not unrequited.
Michael’s fans have followed every event of his life; they know every career turn; they know all the albums and lyrics; they have followed press reports about the superstar; they know all the data. But something else defines Michael Jackson fans and I am at a loss to convey in any understandable terms. There is an unusual almost ethereal communication among his fans and his relationship with them was highly unusual. It is hard to describe and even harder to understand. But there was an element of recognition—a love force or energy, an energetic exchange between Michael and his fans that transcends norms. It couldn’t be seen with the naked eye but it was there. It’s as if they feel each other. Whatever it is or was, it is a new kind of language that the rest of us don’t speak.
During the 2005 trial and at other times, Michael Jackson fans were described as “rabid” or in some way unreasonable. Often they were depicted as being a little or a lot “loony” but that is simply not the case. They also were thought to be so enamored and blinded by the star that they abandoned all sense of propriety, reality or reason when it came to anything Michael. But that too, is simply not the case. MJ fans, as they call themselves know the man. They have a kind of advantage over the rest of society in understanding what non-fans and critics saw as “eccentricities” having simple and plausible explanations. To them it was Michael just being Michael. Because they know the history and have a fuller context of who Michael Jackson was. They have a mental timeline of who Michael was and what he did and there was a deeper understanding than the general public. They don’t excuse his behavior or overlook it because there is no need to. They understood that Michael was different and they fully accept that and see it as a grand reason to love him even more. This historical knowledge and timeline does make a difference—it places events into a context unavailable to most.
“True MJ fans” which is a moniker, speak with one voice regarding his character and his interactions with people and particularly with children. They even have a common language. One of the things that stands out when reading comments by his fans is the familiarity of all of them with what they call “MJ haters.” There is something unsettling and disturbing about the practices of these so called “MJ haters.” They show up on blogs and postings belittling him, his appearance and his character. They appear to be mostly males, mostly conservative Christians by the language and the slant of their posts, and they have very graphic and explicit damning things to say about his interest in children. They have twisted it into a caricature of thick, dark human shadow. They don’t seem to be aware that Michael Jackson was acquitted of all charges in his much publicized trial. “Not guilty” does not make for good tabloid fodder or economics and the yellow press milked the publicity in order to sell copy, so it is conceivable that these males actually did not hear or understand that the trial ended with a favorable outcome for Michael. But the peculiarity and specificity of their language is especially disturbing. It’s violent.
One has to wonder why these “MJ haters” as they are called, bother to monitor the Michael Jackson fan areas and take the opportunity to spew a vile brew of accusation, sensation and condemnation toward a man long ago found innocent. It’s not unusual to see duplicate postings on several sites, sometimes using the same name and obviously the same author. Those postings smack of sexual arousal, machismo gone rogue and a parallel thread of violence. It is obviously designed to arouse someone, but whom? It appears autoerotic. It does get a reaction. These comments are often followed by a “true Michael fan” commenting later to ignore the “hater.” Apparently the fans have experience with this kind of bating. It is apparent also that no amount of factual intervention will convince the unenlightened. There is something really disturbing about the nature of these entries and how forceful they are.
Freudian theory would suppose that the “haters” themselves are latent homosexuals who project their hatred of themselves and their closeted sexual identity confusion onto a representative target—ie. Michael Jackson. Jung would probably say they are displaying their own impotence with a demonstration of jealousy twisted toward a well known man who criticized and lacked machismo, embodied androgyny and sexuality and who aroused the paradox of sexual and maternal feelings in females. That too is evident in the comments by female fans who remark about Michael’s body. That has always been true; the sexual awakening in young females often finds a safe and inaccessible target. And they swoon. It was true for Elvis’ fans in his day and Frank Sinatra before him. The screaming of Beatles’ fans illustrates the same phenomena.
Michael was beloved everywhere in the world. No matter where he went, there were throngs of fans who loved Michael. The irony and paradox that stuns is the knowledge that he could not go out into public and interact with those who loved him because he would not be safe. While it is touching to be the target of so much love and adoration, the fame comes at an enormous cost. No privacy. No friends who know you just as Michael and not as Michael Jackson the mega-star.
Like any public figure and especially a celebrity, Michael attracted fans that could meet the definition of “crazed” but they aren’t many. I have corresponded with Michael’s fans from all over the world and have found them to be thoughtful, dedicated to justice, generous, philanthropic and highly intelligent. They range from children to doctoral candidates. And almost every one I have interacted with have Michael’s ministrations and message in mind—change the world and make it a better place. Love more. And I can tell you from personal experience—they do.
Michael Jackson's fans saw in Michael a light. A light, a love and a goodness that was a shroud that surrounded Michael's being. He shone and his love was shimmering. Fans knew it because they could feel it. It was that real and that palpable. And it is because of Michael that they are committed to making the world a better place. Michael was the messenger. His fans now are the message. Watch. Listen. Learn. Meet a Force that means to change the world.
A Letter to the "Sparkle People" MJ admirers who wrote to me...
If you went to my blog "One Wordsmith" (dot) com ... then you know that as a writer I take on some interesting subjects. I write to "simply change the world."I've taken some interesting journeys in my life as well, some pretty outrageous risks and dared to dream of making friends with "the enemy" and then collaborated with them to destroy weapons of mass destruction. I have drunk Vodka with those from a country who vowed to annihilate me and my countrymen with nukes while someone in that very country saved the world from nuclear destruction (read the story- "Not On My Watch" at One Wordsmith.)
I have hung out with Tibetan Monks in private audience with His Holiness the Dalai Lama, done Satsang with Shri Shri Ravi Shankar, spent a weekend wtih Michael and Rickie Beckwith, studied with many spiritual teachers and learned from many Shamans from different traditions. I have been so fortunate in having some amazingly spiritual mentors and teachers in my life and I thought I knew what love felt like. But I have never witnessed or been in the kind of embrace that has made its way into my world these days through my encounter with Michael Jackson fans. I am awestruck at the stunning heart and hope that comes from the "Sparkle People" which is my new name for Michael Jackson admirers and fans. You are a Force to be reckoned with! A power for LOVE in this world like I have never witnessed! Here is my message to you...
I received so many touching responses to my column and piece about Michael Jackson; your comments brought tears. Thank you. Sharing the writings about Michael represents a leap of faith and sidestepping writer's performance anxiety that comes with taking the risk to stand up and take the path that is the just and true one even though it may provoke uninvited drama. I am humbled and touched by your responses and how raw and genuine they are. Some of you took the risk to write and share your deepest self and I am very honored by your trust. You all have no idea how you have helped to restore my hope. I feel the loss of Michael too. On many levels. Some of you have asked questions or raised issues that I will try to personally respond to as soon as I am able. Until then, there is a collective message that I sense I might share...
Many of you wrote to say that you are having a surprising and acute reaction to the loss of Michael and you are puzzled by it. Your stories are similar. You are also feeling some kind of urge or impulse that you don't understand. There is a reason and an explanation...
I was trained in two non-traditional seminaries and ordained in a seminary with mystical training. My education has included metaphysics, mysticism and esoteric traditions, energy work and working with "fields." My career began as a nurse and it was the miracle of the human body and the psyche that led me on a lifelong spiritual quest. I have been in training with shamans for about 6 years now, have been initiated into several traditions and have reached a level of understanding that traditional doctoral programs do not offer. Not all of what goes on in this life is visible or occurs completely in the physical realm. Complex dimensions and realities interpenetrate what we call physical "reality." There is a metaphysical reality that lives coincidentally with the manifest or material world. There are energies, energetics and frequencies that live in this invisible world that can be felt acutely by those sensitive enough to "tune in" to the "vibe." A Healer and empath all my life, I too feel it acutely. Collectively. I also feel your pain. It is deep and complex. And yes, for you and for me, "the pain is thunder."
There are those on the planet who are the peacemakers, the revolutionary evolutionaries, the placeholders for Love, the keepers and holders of the Light. The Dalai Lama is the most recognizable, prominent and visible one at this time and the list includes Desmond Tutu, Barack Obama and others. And believe it or not-- some of Madonna's work embodies light. Others less known are Shamans, aboriginals from many cultures, medicine men and women, native peoples and those obscure heroes who go quietly about their work in the world of holding the light for humanity. Lady Diana was a very public keeper and placeholder for the light. Martin Luther King was, Gandhi was. As was Michael. There are also animal species holding unconditional love to share it with humans so that humans may learn by their example.
In this period in history, light is being infused through the medium of film. Michael knew this and I believe he was contemplating his own film contribution/s when he passed. Film would have been his next project, I'm sure. It appears he recognized the potential in film. Movies like "Lord of the Rings," "Star Wars," "Chronicles of Narnia," the Harry Potter films and others embody and communicate light. While I haven't seen the movie yet, the trailers indicate that the new movie "Princess and the Frog" may also have it. As "Michael's army" you may get some relief from the overwhelming sorrow by watching some of these films. You are listening to his music and trying to recapture his essence. Yes, his essence is in his music but it is also in you. That is part of Michael's legacy-- for you to hold his light now. And for you to come to own it. I meant it when I said "Tune in to your Inner Michael."
The benevolence in sorrow is letting it have its way with you and experiencing it fully so that will "crack open" your heart. The mystical poet Hafiz explained this well. This kind of flooding heartbreak clears the way for a high game- for high compassion. Michael's life and work breaks your heart-- deliberately. It is not easy spiritual work but it is yours for you are a fan-- more deliberately than you know. It is a high game you play. Especially now.
Michael anchored a great deal of light and certain energies on this planet. The energy he held has now been released onto the planet and that is part of what you feel. You feel the loss of Michael the individual, the entertainer, the light being, the holder of hope. The energy feels like and is, in some sense, dissolution. But it is still here and as his "army" of fans, it is your job now to hold the light for him, and for you, and for the world-- finding a way to share it for the spiritual evolution of humanity. This is a metamorphosis and you are in the midst of it.
Many of the letters I received were from "new fans" or fans who lost track of Michael and found him once again after his death. And some insisted they are "loyal" fans who have been MJ fans for years or decades. Some said they feel guilty for either waiting so long to reacquaint themselves or for missing his message altogether for not knowing of his work. In the realm of spirit and spiritual things, there is no concept of time as we understand it. There is no distance. All is here. All is now. The ego of course takes pride in its being "right" or "loyal" but the spirit doesn't recognize such things. It doesn't matter when we awaken it only matters that we do.
I too, feel some of this same regret having waited so long to reconnect with his work. I was a young single mom trying to navigate through a world that presented drugs, gangs, violence, drinking and early sex to my children as potential paths they might take. Instead I took them to "Hands Across America" that Michael helped to organize and we played and sang "We Are the World" in our home. We were on board. My daughter and I were involved in the Peace Child project and I was working with Russians as a citizen diplomat trying to forge peaceful relationships with the "enemy." My children grew up with Russians and with a Peace Activist mother.
I grew up with the Jackson Five and my children grew up on Michael’s music. Then I lost track of him as my life became busy with my career and the Russian-American Sister Cities project. Eventually I wrote the grant and we traveled to Russia to establish the social infrastructure necessary to move forward with the START II Cooperative Threat Reduction Treaty and the decommissioning of chemical weapons. We worked with the Russian and American military, with Healthcare, Physicians for Social Responsibility, educational and other civilian organizations to build the first chem-weapons decommissioning facility in Russia. Ironic that I lost track of Michael during those years because I know what it is like literally, to be a "stranger in Moscow." I too wandered those streets deliberately alone.
As a minister, peacemaker and metaphysician who is myself an empath, I empathize with those of you who feel an overwhelming loss. I feel it too. Michael's passing also infused and released a great deal of grief into the field of the planet. You are also processing this collective grief and the loss of light coalesced in him.
Make no mistake, Michael's hand is in this. His Spirit is also very much here and alive. His leaving was likely a soul contract. It was one more way that Michael found to serve; staying might not have served the world nearly as well and perhaps Michael new this. He left around the Summer Solstice- a most auspicious time. He sacrificed much. All for Love. All for the world. All for us.
There are no mistakes and everything is in Divine order. Watch closely while this all unfolds. Pay attention. Hold Michael's light which has now become yours.
I am so moved by my own journey and yours and what I have learned since his death! By what I have recognized. The research has revealed some fascinating things that have deeper meaning when looked at through a different lens. Thank you so much for your responses to me. You all hold so much LOVE! It is palpable. I would like to continue to research and if you are interested, I may share more of what I have learned and know in the future.
One person asked about what I meant by "Michael Jackson embodied Light, Shadow, Bright Shadow, the Divine Feminine, the aggressive masculine and androgyny." The answer to that is a whole other article and will take another writing to accomplish. That is the only way to do justice to the question. Since you asked, that tells me it may be really important to share. But I can't do it cavalierly in an email; I will take some work to write it because I sense it is an important piece of who Michael was. I will share it later with you if you are interested. Please let me know your thoughts and responses.
And please know that you are not alone and that this journey is purposeful. I send you angels and wish you comfort along the way when it is needed in order to keep on. Michael would want that.
Never stop shinning. You are the change. You are the world.
The Man and the Mirror
~ A tribute to Michael Jackson and “This Is It” ~ Nature's Pathways Magazine
Michael Jackson was a world messenger with a spiritual message—make a change; make the world a better place. “This Is It,” the film about his planned comeback concert features Michael living his mission not only in what he is saying, but in who he is being. It features a man whose artistry and talent was too forceful for him to contain and too big to hide, someone who was ahead of his time and anything but understood.
The film is a kind of event horizon-- the place where the creative process leaves the creators mind, meets imagination and emerges in birth. The world’s biggest mega-star, lost in the act of creation artfully wields his incredible talent in the spirit of politicians spending political capital. It is clear Michael Jackson was called; his work was a calling. There is no turning away from a calling for it will hound and haunt until expressed. “This Is It” was stirring and inspiring and begged the answer to what compelled him to step up and into a life mission that was anything but easy?
While I liked Michael Jackson, I can't say that I ever met the definition of fan. I didn't pay close attention to his career; maybe I should have. Much of my own work as an artist, messenger and writer has been about embracing the spiritual—with empathic impulse, evocative emotion to change the world and make it a better place with words. I recognize that impulse of calling. With Michael it was more than impulse- it was Force. It is there to see for anyone watching Michael in his last performance.
I left the theater a believer; there is more to this man called Michael. The movie dashed any of my doubts about his character, personality or creative process. The filming was intended for Michael’s private library and that made me a voyeur-- disturbing because he is gone now. But I am richer for that stealth and for the process bequeathed me now by Michael. I revisited accusations, slurs; the vitriolic tabloid insults that impaled Michael Jackson for years and despite being proven not guilty impale him still, even beyond death. Was he a master at commanding attention? Yes. Was he capable of what some accused him of? If you want an answer ask silently in your heart and go see the movie.
I met the Michael in the music more than the music in Michael. I watched a master of transcendentalism building a meditation in magic. I saw Michael in the role of artist, leader, teacher, master and guru. I saw his infinite patience and I didn't miss his kindness in dealing with his musicians, dancers, singers and crew, his long breaths of tolerance toward solicitous blather designed to impress. Stunned by his allegiance to the brutal taskmaster of message, I even glimpsed his vision. I admired his translation, his explosive embodiment of the music in motion, emotion, majesty and metaphor. I know the man’s soul.
What drove Michael? What kept him loyal to his message through some of the most laser focused unkindness, betrayal and ridicule I have ever witnessed in the world? What sustained him? What did he tap into? The film reveals his source when Michael, knowing he is rehearsing, holds back from performing full out and you get a feel for the tide he is stemming. Watching his body move because it can't NOT move, the light dawns. Whatever it was, it didn't come from Michael, it came through him.
His talent painted feelings, conveyed sensation, became a portal for the vision of what is possible if we all just recognize what drives us, breathes us, what gives us life and being.
Michael was obviously an empath. When Michael felt, it was acutely, exquisitely. He may have been synesthesic as well processing through more than one sensory neural channel at a time: “and the pain is thunder.” Maybe Michael Jackson was following light that we couldn't see, music that we couldn't hear, and feelings that we couldn't access and perhaps simultaneously. Michael’s lyrics are prayer.
Synesthesia may even explain his grounding of the music in his body in the lower chakras (energy centers) as that is where the seat of emotion lives. Michael said dancing brought him in touch with the Divine impulse. That is not the first time the world has heard of that phenomena- Kundalini, spiritual energy that ascends the backbone to the brain originates in the lower groin area; Sufis and dervishes whirl to create a vortex for spiritual energy: indigenous cultures use drumbeat and dance.
Michael’s Man in the Mirror is a Gandhi-esque message to be the change you wish to see in the world. I “got it” courtesy of Michael: about the mirror; about shadow; about reflection of self in the world. How we view the world and what we see comes from who we are being. For some, Michael was their everything, for others he would never be enough. And still others will see the reflection of their own darkness. Michael Jackson embodied Light, Shadow, Bright Shadow, the Divine Feminine, the aggressive masculine and androgyny.
He was born into a world too far gone from innocence to embrace it; too distant from naiveté to tolerate it in an adult; too cynical to believe Michael’s own words; too tainted to embrace the sensitive Peter Pan man who understood too well the worlds intolerance to blemish- he wore it in his face. How did he live in a world where dark minds made him things that he never was and couldn't imagine? How did he show up for life… in a world with so much shadow? When that shadow turned on him? How did Michael never give up on the world? On us? And how is it that Michael was coming back to try one last time saying This Is It? Is the irony of that clear enough?
Who now will be our planetary human cheerleader? Our global humanitarian? Who among us can amass millions to catch the vision and carry it forward? Who now in our world is capable of that? This is it? See the movie and then tune to your inner Michael. Whatever you thought about Michael Jackson is correct because it is more about who you are being than it is about Michael because he wasn't just the man in the mirror, he was the mirror.
© B. Kaufmann 2009 and beyond
Barbara, artist, poet and crafter of story is One Wordsmith who writes “to simply change the world.” For more thoughts about Michael and changing the world, visit www.onewordsmith.com
Michael Jackson was a world messenger with a spiritual message—make a change; make the world a better place. “This Is It,” the film about his planned comeback concert features Michael living his mission not only in what he is saying, but in who he is being. It features a man whose artistry and talent was too forceful for him to contain and too big to hide, someone who was ahead of his time and anything but understood.
The film is a kind of event horizon-- the place where the creative process leaves the creators mind, meets imagination and emerges in birth. The world’s biggest mega-star, lost in the act of creation artfully wields his incredible talent in the spirit of politicians spending political capital. It is clear Michael Jackson was called; his work was a calling. There is no turning away from a calling for it will hound and haunt until expressed. “This Is It” was stirring and inspiring and begged the answer to what compelled him to step up and into a life mission that was anything but easy?
While I liked Michael Jackson, I can't say that I ever met the definition of fan. I didn't pay close attention to his career; maybe I should have. Much of my own work as an artist, messenger and writer has been about embracing the spiritual—with empathic impulse, evocative emotion to change the world and make it a better place with words. I recognize that impulse of calling. With Michael it was more than impulse- it was Force. It is there to see for anyone watching Michael in his last performance.
I left the theater a believer; there is more to this man called Michael. The movie dashed any of my doubts about his character, personality or creative process. The filming was intended for Michael’s private library and that made me a voyeur-- disturbing because he is gone now. But I am richer for that stealth and for the process bequeathed me now by Michael. I revisited accusations, slurs; the vitriolic tabloid insults that impaled Michael Jackson for years and despite being proven not guilty impale him still, even beyond death. Was he a master at commanding attention? Yes. Was he capable of what some accused him of? If you want an answer ask silently in your heart and go see the movie.
I met the Michael in the music more than the music in Michael. I watched a master of transcendentalism building a meditation in magic. I saw Michael in the role of artist, leader, teacher, master and guru. I saw his infinite patience and I didn't miss his kindness in dealing with his musicians, dancers, singers and crew, his long breaths of tolerance toward solicitous blather designed to impress. Stunned by his allegiance to the brutal taskmaster of message, I even glimpsed his vision. I admired his translation, his explosive embodiment of the music in motion, emotion, majesty and metaphor. I know the man’s soul.
What drove Michael? What kept him loyal to his message through some of the most laser focused unkindness, betrayal and ridicule I have ever witnessed in the world? What sustained him? What did he tap into? The film reveals his source when Michael, knowing he is rehearsing, holds back from performing full out and you get a feel for the tide he is stemming. Watching his body move because it can't NOT move, the light dawns. Whatever it was, it didn't come from Michael, it came through him.
His talent painted feelings, conveyed sensation, became a portal for the vision of what is possible if we all just recognize what drives us, breathes us, what gives us life and being.
Michael was obviously an empath. When Michael felt, it was acutely, exquisitely. He may have been synesthesic as well processing through more than one sensory neural channel at a time: “and the pain is thunder.” Maybe Michael Jackson was following light that we couldn't see, music that we couldn't hear, and feelings that we couldn't access and perhaps simultaneously. Michael’s lyrics are prayer.
Synesthesia may even explain his grounding of the music in his body in the lower chakras (energy centers) as that is where the seat of emotion lives. Michael said dancing brought him in touch with the Divine impulse. That is not the first time the world has heard of that phenomena- Kundalini, spiritual energy that ascends the backbone to the brain originates in the lower groin area; Sufis and dervishes whirl to create a vortex for spiritual energy: indigenous cultures use drumbeat and dance.
Michael’s Man in the Mirror is a Gandhi-esque message to be the change you wish to see in the world. I “got it” courtesy of Michael: about the mirror; about shadow; about reflection of self in the world. How we view the world and what we see comes from who we are being. For some, Michael was their everything, for others he would never be enough. And still others will see the reflection of their own darkness. Michael Jackson embodied Light, Shadow, Bright Shadow, the Divine Feminine, the aggressive masculine and androgyny.
He was born into a world too far gone from innocence to embrace it; too distant from naiveté to tolerate it in an adult; too cynical to believe Michael’s own words; too tainted to embrace the sensitive Peter Pan man who understood too well the worlds intolerance to blemish- he wore it in his face. How did he live in a world where dark minds made him things that he never was and couldn't imagine? How did he show up for life… in a world with so much shadow? When that shadow turned on him? How did Michael never give up on the world? On us? And how is it that Michael was coming back to try one last time saying This Is It? Is the irony of that clear enough?
Who now will be our planetary human cheerleader? Our global humanitarian? Who among us can amass millions to catch the vision and carry it forward? Who now in our world is capable of that? This is it? See the movie and then tune to your inner Michael. Whatever you thought about Michael Jackson is correct because it is more about who you are being than it is about Michael because he wasn't just the man in the mirror, he was the mirror.
© B. Kaufmann 2009 and beyond
Barbara, artist, poet and crafter of story is One Wordsmith who writes “to simply change the world.” For more thoughts about Michael and changing the world, visit www.onewordsmith.com
Saturday
Tribute and Review of "This Is It:" The movie and Michael Jackson's Last Performance
Once again I stand guilty of not appreciating someone enough until they are gone never to return. And so it is with Michael. I call him by his first name now because I know him personally—but only so after his passing and only after seeing his movie “This is It.”
I finally understand Michael the man, both the human being and the creative genius, and I see the incredibly wide love for people and the planet… that came from this singular figure.
One listen to the lyrics of his songs will tell what the man was made of…
“Heal the World
Make it a better place
For you and for me and the entire human race.
There are people dying
If you care enough for the living
Make a little space
Make a better place.”
“When they say why, why? Tell ‘em that it’s human nature.
Why, why do you do me this way?”
“I'm starting with the man in the mirror
I'm asking him to change his ways
And no message could have been any clearer
If you wanna make the world a better place
Take a look at yourself and then make a change.”
I sat in the parking lot and cried for most of an hour after leaving the movie. I didn't know why. The tears were not voluntary. In the theatre I didn’t want it to end. I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to leak the magic. I didn’t want him to be gone.
I felt the finality of that curtain call and realized that I couldn’t have another chance with him—to rescind my doubt. I wanted forgiveness for ever having it. I felt immobile with sadness—in betraying him, in overlooking him, in dismissing him, in questioning him, in doubting him. The tears were because... there are no do overs. Because the world lost something un-named and un-namable with his passing. Because it was something bright. Because Michael held so much love. Because I felt his loneliness. His vulnerability. But mostly I grieved for the light gone out in the world. I still do.
I had always wondered if Michael was guilty of the things people accused him of doing. I had agonized over my own feelings, my own repulsion if the accusations were true. Over the what ifs. You see, I grew up with the Jackson 5 and my children gew up with Michael's music. I felt if Michael was guilty it would be a personal betrayal and a betrayal of my children. I rejoiced when he was finally found “not guilty” but not everyone accepted his innocence and I confess, in the back of my mind in a little corner, I always wondered. Accusation does that- creates doubt.
After seeing “This is It” I now know the truth. Michael Jackson never deliberately hurt anybody. Ever. I didn’t miss his incredible kindness to musicians in his band; his “we’ll get it done” assurance to his musical director who wanted his contribution to be perfect because it was, after all, Michael Jackson he was trying to please. I saw his infinite patience with the singers, musicians and dancers as he worked hands on with them to polish their performances. I heard the patronizing tones in the voices of people addressing him and his gracious and patient replies. I heard Michael the leader, teacher and master who used metaphor to help them feel his intentions. I heard Michael the guru who urged them to share the spotlight and shine with their own talent. I saw his hands say what his words could not and I watched the tender and not so tender genius in those gestures and those hands.
Michael was beloved and adored by millions-- fans and friends. That love and a kind of artist-to-artist admiration beamed from the sparse audience that made up his cast and crew for the concert tour that was to be "This is It." Michael was teaching them as well as rehearsing. His absolute clarity was stunning. His understanding of transcendentalism, mystery, creative tension and especially using magic and metaphor to take people to places beyond ordinary awareness and through the tunnel of emotion-- to a place they had never been and never imagined was genius. All of us have that talent somewhere inside us but convention, tradition, condition and cultural boundaries can prevent us from going there. Performance anxiety runs much deeper than stage fright. His clarity in performance and leadership was humble perfection.
Because of his early recognition and financial success, very few of the limits and demands of everyday life that press upon us and drain juice from our imagination, wonder and creative impulse touched Michael. Michael's stardom began very early in life; his childhood was anything but average. And with his talent, he cultivated unrestricted access to most of the world and certainly to the creative realm of wonder and invention. Living most of his life without healthy boundaries brought great aspirations and ambition but also intense pain, betrayed trust and the anguish of being constantly misunderstood. Michael pushed the envelope; he pushed relentlessly and hard. He was showman, businessman and genius. The grand genius of his works, and especially his concerts were the transcendental experiences. "Transendental" takes us somewhere else beyond the personal self, to a place where the self and the world become something more and we become something more. Michael was loved for what he showed us was possible. He was the man in the mirror and the one holding it up for us to look.
I always loved his dancing but wondered why the sexual “beyond innuendo” in some of it. Watching him in the act of creation—I now understand that it comes from the passion of someone who “rocks it” not because he wanted to or had to but because that was what came through him, through his body. The driving beat of Michael’s music carries an intensity that demands the body move, gyrate, leap, growl and grind. The intensity centers in the groin and solar plexus because it comes from the “seat of emotion.” Intensely emotional, it is the language of pure passion. Hindis have a name for that passionate grinding, grounding energy that rises from the place in the human body where spirit meets matter, where physicality meets soul. It’s the energy of gestation, birth, genesis, of force and forceful release—that rises into and becomes creation. It’s the impulse energy that rushes hot and upward along the backbone from the groin and solar plexus. It is the place of the Kundalini force, the juice of life. And it’s explosive. Like orgasm, that creation energy sends waves of physical earthquakes up the backbone. It is obvious that Michael felt it in his music; it exploded through the music, through him and through his body.
“This is It” left me with some questions:
How do you live with the paradox that millions of people around the world love you but you cannot leave your home? How do you never push a cart down the aisle in a grocery store? Never enter a music store where your recordings are on sale? Never go to a baseball game, a parade, a zoo or picnic in a park with your children? How do you never be left alone yet be so very, very alone? How do you write so well of loneliness? And when you’re with people, how do you sort out if someone is being authentic with you or playing to your public persona? How do you be so painfully shy and have such massive talent that it cannot be contained? How do you never say no when and because the music hounds and haunts until it comes through you? How do you rehearse for hours to exhaustion because you can’t NOT share the bigness of your creative genius with the world? How do you stand up and be a superstar in a world with so much shadow? How do you keep writing lines that highlight or attack that shadow? How do you survive when the shadow turns on you? I understand now it was a calling—the kind that no one could turn their back on because it possesses them. Oh yes, Michael was called. Look at his lyrics—most of them are prayer.
And how do you live so naked in public light knowing that for some, you are everything and for others, you will never be enough? How do you remain steadfast in the the beacon called “public scrutiny” allowing yourself to be a larger than life target for opportunists? How do you bear continuing vilification perpetuated by unscrupulous exploiters when the unthinkable accusation doesn’t even live in your consciousness, your world? How do you come to show up for court another day to listen to them excoriate you, shred your very personhood, destroy who you are being? How do you get out of bed? Out of your pajamas? How do you reconcile being accused alone even if found “not guilty” of unspeakable acts to children when you have always loved children because of their wonder, their innocence? How do you trust ever again after someone gained your confidence and left the best part of you on the cutting room floor and called the remainder tabloid film a documentary of your life? How do you survive a mad dog mentality in the legal system bent on destroying you? The very system that is supposed to protect you? How then do you gather up the carelessly flung about pieces of your life? And in the midst of it, or in its aftermath, how do you even show up for life?
Maybe you become a recluse and look for something to dull the pain and make the brutality and exhaustion go away. Maybe to make the world go away for awhile. Maybe you even find a doctor or two who will give a little something that helps to ease your woundedness while you try to heal yourself. Can the missing chunks of flesh chewed by those who wanted a pound, be patched? How deep is the wound? Weary soul deep or just weary bone deep?
How do you bear a lifetime of insults, slurs and lies too many to address and too tormenting to allow inside because it would paralyze you? How do you not let it harden your heart? How do you bear comments about your face? My god, your face! The only thing you can be in, express to the world, telegraph your emotions with. How do you live with Lupus, a disease that wants to consume your body and Vitiligo, a disease that mars your face? The face that presents you to the world, the face you make a living with? How do you live under umbrellas because the sun makes the blotching of your skin that much worse? When you do the best you can with the treatments that are necessary but that make your skin appear bleached and whiter? Now that the disease has left you with more white than black skin in large blotches, and the doctors have avised that the best treatment is to zap the dark skin with lasers to even it out, how do you bear the accusations that you have become a trader to your race? How do you navigate being the butt of thousands of jokes and unkind remarks that impale you? How do you survive without one single day in the sun romping at the beach? I wish "we" could have loved and accepted you just the way you were. I wish we could have cradled you and your face with our minds. But the world is not kind to blemish and imperfection. But you knew that didn't you Michael? Being the perfectionist and artist you were, you kept changing your face. You always empathized with the dowtrodden, disabled and disfigured-- you were closer to them than any of us knew. You hid it from us so well.
How do you explain to a world that is too far gone and will never be innocent enough again to understand that boys loved to hang out with you because you are a legend? A bigger than life greatness that gives them hope in the descending despair of childhood and adolescence, a someone who gives them something undefined to aspire to? That, yes, they see the Peter Pan in you, love you because of it, and want to be close to you because you embody that unabashed joy and wonder that they feel slipping from them. The thing that the world-in-becoming-grown up lost when it lost the innocence of simple “believing?” How do you explain that boys are hanging out to hang onto something so gossamer that it can't be defined? But you too, know what it is and want them to have it just a little longer. How do you explain that they are beginning to discover that if they let go of you, (more what you represent) they will have to confront the despairing reality that they don’t care much for this world the way it is either.
I finally understand Michael the man, both the human being and the creative genius, and I see the incredibly wide love for people and the planet… that came from this singular figure.
One listen to the lyrics of his songs will tell what the man was made of…
“Heal the World
Make it a better place
For you and for me and the entire human race.
There are people dying
If you care enough for the living
Make a little space
Make a better place.”
“When they say why, why? Tell ‘em that it’s human nature.
Why, why do you do me this way?”
“I'm starting with the man in the mirror
I'm asking him to change his ways
And no message could have been any clearer
If you wanna make the world a better place
Take a look at yourself and then make a change.”
I sat in the parking lot and cried for most of an hour after leaving the movie. I didn't know why. The tears were not voluntary. In the theatre I didn’t want it to end. I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to leak the magic. I didn’t want him to be gone.
I felt the finality of that curtain call and realized that I couldn’t have another chance with him—to rescind my doubt. I wanted forgiveness for ever having it. I felt immobile with sadness—in betraying him, in overlooking him, in dismissing him, in questioning him, in doubting him. The tears were because... there are no do overs. Because the world lost something un-named and un-namable with his passing. Because it was something bright. Because Michael held so much love. Because I felt his loneliness. His vulnerability. But mostly I grieved for the light gone out in the world. I still do.
I had always wondered if Michael was guilty of the things people accused him of doing. I had agonized over my own feelings, my own repulsion if the accusations were true. Over the what ifs. You see, I grew up with the Jackson 5 and my children gew up with Michael's music. I felt if Michael was guilty it would be a personal betrayal and a betrayal of my children. I rejoiced when he was finally found “not guilty” but not everyone accepted his innocence and I confess, in the back of my mind in a little corner, I always wondered. Accusation does that- creates doubt.
After seeing “This is It” I now know the truth. Michael Jackson never deliberately hurt anybody. Ever. I didn’t miss his incredible kindness to musicians in his band; his “we’ll get it done” assurance to his musical director who wanted his contribution to be perfect because it was, after all, Michael Jackson he was trying to please. I saw his infinite patience with the singers, musicians and dancers as he worked hands on with them to polish their performances. I heard the patronizing tones in the voices of people addressing him and his gracious and patient replies. I heard Michael the leader, teacher and master who used metaphor to help them feel his intentions. I heard Michael the guru who urged them to share the spotlight and shine with their own talent. I saw his hands say what his words could not and I watched the tender and not so tender genius in those gestures and those hands.
Michael was beloved and adored by millions-- fans and friends. That love and a kind of artist-to-artist admiration beamed from the sparse audience that made up his cast and crew for the concert tour that was to be "This is It." Michael was teaching them as well as rehearsing. His absolute clarity was stunning. His understanding of transcendentalism, mystery, creative tension and especially using magic and metaphor to take people to places beyond ordinary awareness and through the tunnel of emotion-- to a place they had never been and never imagined was genius. All of us have that talent somewhere inside us but convention, tradition, condition and cultural boundaries can prevent us from going there. Performance anxiety runs much deeper than stage fright. His clarity in performance and leadership was humble perfection.
Because of his early recognition and financial success, very few of the limits and demands of everyday life that press upon us and drain juice from our imagination, wonder and creative impulse touched Michael. Michael's stardom began very early in life; his childhood was anything but average. And with his talent, he cultivated unrestricted access to most of the world and certainly to the creative realm of wonder and invention. Living most of his life without healthy boundaries brought great aspirations and ambition but also intense pain, betrayed trust and the anguish of being constantly misunderstood. Michael pushed the envelope; he pushed relentlessly and hard. He was showman, businessman and genius. The grand genius of his works, and especially his concerts were the transcendental experiences. "Transendental" takes us somewhere else beyond the personal self, to a place where the self and the world become something more and we become something more. Michael was loved for what he showed us was possible. He was the man in the mirror and the one holding it up for us to look.
I always loved his dancing but wondered why the sexual “beyond innuendo” in some of it. Watching him in the act of creation—I now understand that it comes from the passion of someone who “rocks it” not because he wanted to or had to but because that was what came through him, through his body. The driving beat of Michael’s music carries an intensity that demands the body move, gyrate, leap, growl and grind. The intensity centers in the groin and solar plexus because it comes from the “seat of emotion.” Intensely emotional, it is the language of pure passion. Hindis have a name for that passionate grinding, grounding energy that rises from the place in the human body where spirit meets matter, where physicality meets soul. It’s the energy of gestation, birth, genesis, of force and forceful release—that rises into and becomes creation. It’s the impulse energy that rushes hot and upward along the backbone from the groin and solar plexus. It is the place of the Kundalini force, the juice of life. And it’s explosive. Like orgasm, that creation energy sends waves of physical earthquakes up the backbone. It is obvious that Michael felt it in his music; it exploded through the music, through him and through his body.
“This is It” left me with some questions:
How do you live with the paradox that millions of people around the world love you but you cannot leave your home? How do you never push a cart down the aisle in a grocery store? Never enter a music store where your recordings are on sale? Never go to a baseball game, a parade, a zoo or picnic in a park with your children? How do you never be left alone yet be so very, very alone? How do you write so well of loneliness? And when you’re with people, how do you sort out if someone is being authentic with you or playing to your public persona? How do you be so painfully shy and have such massive talent that it cannot be contained? How do you never say no when and because the music hounds and haunts until it comes through you? How do you rehearse for hours to exhaustion because you can’t NOT share the bigness of your creative genius with the world? How do you stand up and be a superstar in a world with so much shadow? How do you keep writing lines that highlight or attack that shadow? How do you survive when the shadow turns on you? I understand now it was a calling—the kind that no one could turn their back on because it possesses them. Oh yes, Michael was called. Look at his lyrics—most of them are prayer.
And how do you live so naked in public light knowing that for some, you are everything and for others, you will never be enough? How do you remain steadfast in the the beacon called “public scrutiny” allowing yourself to be a larger than life target for opportunists? How do you bear continuing vilification perpetuated by unscrupulous exploiters when the unthinkable accusation doesn’t even live in your consciousness, your world? How do you come to show up for court another day to listen to them excoriate you, shred your very personhood, destroy who you are being? How do you get out of bed? Out of your pajamas? How do you reconcile being accused alone even if found “not guilty” of unspeakable acts to children when you have always loved children because of their wonder, their innocence? How do you trust ever again after someone gained your confidence and left the best part of you on the cutting room floor and called the remainder tabloid film a documentary of your life? How do you survive a mad dog mentality in the legal system bent on destroying you? The very system that is supposed to protect you? How then do you gather up the carelessly flung about pieces of your life? And in the midst of it, or in its aftermath, how do you even show up for life?
Maybe you become a recluse and look for something to dull the pain and make the brutality and exhaustion go away. Maybe to make the world go away for awhile. Maybe you even find a doctor or two who will give a little something that helps to ease your woundedness while you try to heal yourself. Can the missing chunks of flesh chewed by those who wanted a pound, be patched? How deep is the wound? Weary soul deep or just weary bone deep?
How do you bear a lifetime of insults, slurs and lies too many to address and too tormenting to allow inside because it would paralyze you? How do you not let it harden your heart? How do you bear comments about your face? My god, your face! The only thing you can be in, express to the world, telegraph your emotions with. How do you live with Lupus, a disease that wants to consume your body and Vitiligo, a disease that mars your face? The face that presents you to the world, the face you make a living with? How do you live under umbrellas because the sun makes the blotching of your skin that much worse? When you do the best you can with the treatments that are necessary but that make your skin appear bleached and whiter? Now that the disease has left you with more white than black skin in large blotches, and the doctors have avised that the best treatment is to zap the dark skin with lasers to even it out, how do you bear the accusations that you have become a trader to your race? How do you navigate being the butt of thousands of jokes and unkind remarks that impale you? How do you survive without one single day in the sun romping at the beach? I wish "we" could have loved and accepted you just the way you were. I wish we could have cradled you and your face with our minds. But the world is not kind to blemish and imperfection. But you knew that didn't you Michael? Being the perfectionist and artist you were, you kept changing your face. You always empathized with the dowtrodden, disabled and disfigured-- you were closer to them than any of us knew. You hid it from us so well.
How do you explain to a world that is too far gone and will never be innocent enough again to understand that boys loved to hang out with you because you are a legend? A bigger than life greatness that gives them hope in the descending despair of childhood and adolescence, a someone who gives them something undefined to aspire to? That, yes, they see the Peter Pan in you, love you because of it, and want to be close to you because you embody that unabashed joy and wonder that they feel slipping from them. The thing that the world-in-becoming-grown up lost when it lost the innocence of simple “believing?” How do you explain that boys are hanging out to hang onto something so gossamer that it can't be defined? But you too, know what it is and want them to have it just a little longer. How do you explain that they are beginning to discover that if they let go of you, (more what you represent) they will have to confront the despairing reality that they don’t care much for this world the way it is either.
Are we all so far out from childhood that we don’t remember?
How do you pay for children’s’ artificial limbs and transplants in an unknown act in an unknown hospital in an unknown country meanwhile bearing an accusation of deliberately causing harm to children? How do you navigate the vitriolic damnation of some who haven’t heard you were found not guilty? Or couldn’t hear it because of their own shadow? When it would never occur to you to hurt a little boy because you, yourself conspire to always embody the magic and wonder for the "boy" in all of them and for the sake of all of them? We all have to bear sometime that one searing and rending wound, the loss of innocence. Was your innocence so great that it took that to destroy it? Did it require that much shadow to cover the light that you were? How do you ever return to Neverland? I guess you don’t.
Oh, yes you were eccentric, Michael, in your own way and by some of the world's standards. And sheltered. Creative geniuses usually are. Yes, you marched to your own drummer. Only, because you didn’t like the beat or the vibe of this planet, the one you landed on at birth. Yes, you were Peter Pan in the flesh but only because the world was not a place where you could live, where your fragile spirit could be nourished or thrive. Peter Pan held more sanity than the real world. Yet up until the very end, you were still trying to make it a better place! It would have been so much easier to turn your back on a world that didn’t understand you. It would have been understandable. Even expected. But then you always were a master of the unexpected. How is it, Michael that you could or would continue to care?
That Michael Jackson was truly a contradiction is understated but evident in his last appearance. His humility, clarity, unassuming and egoless private persona certainly “contradicts” the moments he “rocks it.” His shyness contradicts his superstar status. In “This is It,” Michael is truly being Michael— the contradiction. The glory. What if that Michael truly never understood the dark energies that come from minds that cannot comprehend true innocence and genuine naiveté? The creative or creation impulse? What an incredible gift to the world yet the world didn’t appreciate him well—both lion and lamb. Yes,the world crucified yet another of our lambs who was a (oh yes he was!) light unto the world. And then again, perhaps Michael did understand. He sang, after all, about “human nature.”
And maybe we never knew him until now. Until he was gone. Until “This is It.” Were he still here, I would not have met the real Michael. I would not have known him. I would not have seen the genius, the creative impulse, the clarity of leadership, the ownership of the awesome power and responsibility that he knew he held. I would not have known the Michael in the Music as well as the music in Michael. I wince when I think about the number of times the man put himself out there not knowing if what would return would be revulsion or love. And yet he was staging a comeback—he was willing to give the world and us another chance. And it would have brought him back to us and us back to him; of that I am sure. Would the world have appreciated that magnanimity of the risk, the gift? We will never know. At least he never gave up on the world. On us.
I wonder who now will take over his role-- not as the "King of Pop" but as the world's cheerleader and hummanitarian? What language will she speak? How will he get the world's attention? Michael spoke in the language of music. It was because of the language he spoke that he was able to reach the masses. Because he was so widely beloved, Michael was able to mobilize forces, bring people together, and create story in the most unusual and spectacular ways. He was a man with a mission and because of who he was, he was able to command audiences of millions. He used music- a popular and universal language to trumpet his message. He used it to reach just the right audience- youth. Michael understood that young people hold the hope for the future and the world. And his message was about healing the world, caring for children and that "we are one." He was able to spread it universally to many generations and peoples around the globe. Who now is capable of that? We know in a quiet and secret place that there will never be another Michael. We, the world, didn't cherish him enough, in fact we didn't treat him very well and now he is gone.
Watching the movie, something Michael never intended for release, made me feel a little like a voyeur watching a man preparing to expose his soul to judgment. I felt like I had trespassed into sacred space. But I am grateful for it. I feel like I now know the soul of this man called Michael. He loved big. Oh, I always loved his talent, but I didn’t love Michael, the man. It wasn't enough.
And my final gift from Michael is the realization that “Man in the Mirror” which has to be my favorite song, has an even deeper message than “be the change you wish to see in the world” of Gandhi. There are some people on this planet who saw his light earlier, longer and who never doubted because they had to have seen in Michael, the reflection of their own light. Just like those to whom he reflected their darkest shadow. I wish it hadn’t taken his death to bring me the bright light that was Michael Jackson and the mirror of mine. I just didn't love him as much as he loved me.
(c) ~ Barbara Kaufmann 2009 and beyond
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
