Click on his eyes...

Keep your eye on his eyes...

2010-03-09T23:48:00.003-06:00

Michael Jackson was a shapeshifter...

Still dancing... Still moonwalking... Still morphing...

What shape will he assume next?

The countdown begins...

Five... Four... Three... Two... One...

Stay tuned...

And keep your eyes on the eyes...

When the student is ready... the teacher appears

2010-03-06T18:31:00.011-06:00

Who is to say what form Spirit will take? Who can predict in what form comes the messenger? How does one recognize the message? Is it heard with the inner ears? Felt in the inner heart? Visited in the inner knowing? Seen in the mind’s eye? Is it the next involuntary shiver? The dreamscape painted in your next sleep? Goose bumps? Tears that won’t stop?

They say when the student is ready the teacher appears... What teachers have appeared in your life? How did you recognize them? What new discovery did he inspire you with? What startling revelation did she teach you? What has really touched your heart recently? Was it a lick on the hand from the animal who showed up on your doorstep not really intending to bring you home, yet ends up adopting you anyway? Ah, close encounter of the furry kind!

Where do you find God? Could God be hiding in the in-breath of awe at the next sunset? Perhaps The Creator was present during a movie that captivated you so much you don’t remember the drive home from the theater? Was Spirit in a photograph you saw that inspired when you Googled, enticing you to follow the inspiration only to remember an hour later that the laundry never made it to the dryer?

Was there a spiritual message waiting for you somewhere you never dreamed? Was it in the violent windstorm that took the old majestic oak tree in the backyard, the one you mourned for months until you discovered the tiny saplings in a circle round where the mother tree once stood? Was it in the smile of that child in the wheelchair who can’t speak or hear so he’s learned to communicate with his heart and you clearly heard what he couldn’t say? Was it lying there waiting beneath the last footstep to the rim of the Grand Canyon?

Just how does one find one’s guru? And is that discovery preceded by a pilgrimage to the Ganges without food and water with a stone in the shoe? A trek to the Himalayas? Perhaps a walk to Assisi? Or along the Camino? Maybe it’s as simple as watching Star Wars just one more time. Perhaps the Holy Grail is not a cup but an attitude? An attitude of expectation? Who do you expect to see? God or something you think is anathema to that? If you want to take that particular journey quickly and have that Aha! I would suggest Michael Jackson’s short film: Ghosts.

Can you know what form your next spiritual messenger will arrive in? How will the message or messenger be cloaked? In what guise will they arrive? In what costume is your next messenger clothed? In robes? A cape? Pajamas? Feathers or fur? Is there an official uniform? Sandals? A crown? Turban? Maybe a fedora? A gilded Gold and Lapis mask? Maybe a surgical one? How will he speak? In soliloquy? Stories? Perhaps parables? Maybe myth? In what language will the message come? Aramaic? English? The universal language… music, maestro?

We can be sure there will be beauty in the creation whether it’s messenger, message or mess. We know that because from whence it comes. Even the messiest and most loathsome entanglement is beautiful if it is a message from God. And That is everywhere. A messy kind of message may impel us to make a change in our reality because the one we’re working in isn’t working. Could be it’s not promoting growth or in our highest interest. The Universe likes to shake us from our complacency now and then. Remember the oak? New growth can’t occur where there is too much shade. Growth needs light.

Yes, where indeed do you find the shine? The light that will illuminate where change is needed? Spotlight. Hot light. Sunshine. Highlight. Sparkle. In-sight in-light; in-flight. Flash. Flash-dance. Reflect. Reflection. Moonglade. Maybe enlightenment shines from a little light of the moon. Maybe a bit of lunacy? When the teacher appears, maybe he resembles an extraterrestrial? A little Moonwalker maybe? Now who could have predicted that? And in what form will the next spiritual message come? Perhaps in the lyrics of a song?

Make That Change in Michael's Name

2010-03-03T21:53:00.012-06:00

That hearts can hurt this much
stuns.
Invisible hands
squeeze round the chest
wrap the throat
wipe tears that sting
and steal the breath.
I want to apologize to you
but can’t.
I can only…
make that change
in Michael’s name.

I am so sorry we didn’t
see you!
The mind reels
and eyes reveal
your message
landed here too late.
But better late
than never to arrive.
It’s not your fault.
You tried.
So will I…
to make that change
in Michael’s name.

The harm we inflicted
wounds
not just you—but us
and the world.
Oh the dark
we cloaked you in--
that tattered
and shattered
a soul
wounded so deep
as to take your sleep
and then your life.
I only know I will…
make that change
in Michael’s name.

We mistook your life for
ours.
Gave no rest,
chased your every move,
pointed fingers,
to mock, laugh,
call names,
rip your dignity
from outstretched hands
those same ones that
held the world,
tried to save it.
So I will…
make that change
in Michael’s name.

I can’t ever make it
right.
How could you
give so much when
we cared so little?
Held no mercy?
Heaped even more
upon your head
until you bent so far
you began to break.
I promise I will…
make that change
in Michael’s name.

The only thing we can do
now…
Remember you
were here.
Remember too that
no matter how much
we hurt you--
fisher of mankind,
you were ready to return,
to defy human nature
and try again
to capture us.
The least I can do now…
make that change
in Michael’s name.

(c) B.Kaufmann 2010 & beyond
*Note: Permission granted to reprint with (c) and author credits.

The Energy of Opposition Invites Opposition. The Energy of Love invites Love.

2010-02-28T11:24:00.011-06:00

My classmate and lab partner was a sensitive guy who imagined himself the next rock star. My electric guitar was on permanent loan it seemed; how could I not support his dream? Right after we graduated he found himself in the midst of a jungle in an obscure country fighting a war that he didn’t understand and didn’t believe in. When he had enough, he stood up in the line of fire and his dream ended. Viet Nam made me a different person.

As a child I made a vow to make a difference in the world; I would ‘do something’ because the adults of the world who were in charge weren’t doing anything. In fact, they were messing it up pretty well. My generation had a different image of the world—we had a dream called ‘peace.’ Over and over I watched my peers—boxes and boxes of them—offloaded from aircraft returning from the war. When I had enough, I rolled up a joint and the sleeves of my army shirt, bought a van and began an anti-war journey. I left home, changed my image and moved in with musician friends to tune in and drop out.

A blur of music festivals, anti-war protests, traveling with musicians, learning to be a promoter and how to organize, I railed against anything establishment. If you want to understand what establishment means, tune into the mayor in Ghosts short film. I meant well. We all did. And then we hit young adulthood and many of us gave up. We had families, we fit in, we lived normal lives.

But for me, the dream never faded; I couldn’t conform. When I became a single parent, I realized the one thing I could do to change the world was to teach my children to be the change. I joined Beyond War and Ban the Bomb groups ; exposed my children to all different kinds of races, faces, places and ages; I hung out with peacemakers; hosted Russians in my home; donated time and energy to anti-war and anti-nuke organizations; joined Hands Across America and hauled my children with me across several states to join the line; I played and sang Michael’s We Are the World until it became our anthem.

One day the light dawned. The energy of anti wasn’t working for me. To the chagrin of friends, I refused to organize any more rallies or stand on any more street corners with signs. I began to create artwork with a message, studied creative writing and began to write poetry, enrolled my daughter in the Peace Child Project and joined Sister Cities. I became the producer, a performer and even Master of Ceremonies for the Annual Harmony Peace Concerts at Lawrence University. The epiphany that landed on that day was that when you are anti-anything your energy is oppositional and harsh. When you extend a hand and ask people to join you in making the world a better place, that is asking a favor that is hard to say no to. That’s when I began to learn diplomacy, how to become a global citizen, how to make friends with an established enemy, how to become a ‘fisher of men’ and to use energy to appeal to the loftier side of human nature.

That’s when the Spiritual Masters began to arrive in my life because “when the student is ready the teacher appears.” They taught me that there is nothing wrong with righteous indignation or being unsettled with the status quo; we can change the world. And often we should. But the approach makes all the difference. They taught how to: recognize the ego’s voice; become an advocate of we are one race, one humanity; recognize the mirror and how to use it; be the change and what that means; make peace with yourself first; find no enemies, but only those not converted to love yet; shift the body’s energies with breathwork and body disciplines; use a practice to still the mind; hear the voice of intuition; set powerful intention; learn and master healing practices; perform energy work; study bio-illumination; recognize and seek enlightenment; see the journey not the destination; communicate with all of life and too many more to mention.

People feel who you are being. Being anti-friend and anti-“them” doesn’t work. Neither does trying to shout someone down because well… you’re right, right? And that makes them what, wrong? No one wants to be defeated? What does work is seeking always to be the vibe you’d like them to join. Lecture from across the desk and you get resistance; come to this side of the desk and explain how we are going to work on it together and the listening gets easier. Encourage and you get engagement.

People are not "being the change" because they don’t know how. They don’t see the benefits of it or they aren’t motivated. They want to know ‘what’s the advantage?’ ‘What’s in it for me?’ People do things for their reasons not your reasons. Find their reason. Feel their pain. Touch their dream. Then give them the light: ‘Here is what I see you becoming…’ or ‘come on with me and check out the light over here...’

It doesn’t always work at first. But once the door is open even a tiny crack, there is opportunity for light to enter. Even if it's only a sliver of light. Criticizing, name calling, slamming others’ self or ideas does nothing to change the energy; in fact, it lets in more shadow, yours, making the light harder to shine. Continuing the argument is not useful. Deliver the message. Period. Dangle the light in front of their eyes by being that light. Then end the dialogue so they can think it over privately. Stop there. 'Let it simmer.' A chess game to maneuver one into checkmate cannot continue if one person leaves the game. What is the fun of playing alone? There's no payoff. End the opportunity to create resistance by ending the game.

What you resist persists. That is how the Universe works. The argument isn't important anyway and wining only feeds your ego-- not the spiritual you! And their losing deflates their self esteem- why do you think they fight so hard? They mistakenly think they are fighting for their self esteem! How hard would you fight? How would you hear the message: "I don't like who you are being?" It’s the duality on this planet that gets us into trouble—us/them. It’s our own ego that gets in our way. Why is it important to argue and to “win?” “Winning” is manufactured in the mind; it's not a real thing. You can't hold it in your hand or use it like compensation to gain anything. It's not substance. It lasts only awhile; glory always fades quickly. But human hearts last a lifetime. Capture hearts.

Mystery invites. Enchantment works. In the midst of a challenge take a moment to feel your heart. Feel the love that lives there. Then extend that same feeling across the space to the other. Let them feel who you are being. That is what changes hearts. Can you be that all the time? Even if you can’t extend it always, it’s important to try. I know, I know; I write it better than I do it! But intention is everything. Intention is your energy. Your intention communicates to another person non-verbally. Can you feel it? It’s not perfection; perfection is not required. It’s a practice. And practice improves the performance—for the performer and the audience. Just ask Michael.

Spirit Guest at Drum Circle

2010-02-25T00:04:00.010-06:00

My Oneida friend hosted a drum circle last night at our church sanctuary.

We invited a guest- note the empty chair with a drum and on top- a hat and sparkle glove.

And look who showed up- a spirit visitor.

Notice the globe shaped orb in the upper left directly above my drum.

I leave it to you to decide...

*You were there, Amy. You all were. I placed all those who are hurting from Michael's passing in the circle with us and asked for healing. Can you feel it... can you feel it... can you feel it?

The Latest Weapon of Mass Destruction

2010-02-21T22:44:00.021-06:00

An Introduction to the Arsenal:

Yes, I have met the enemy and I can assure you he is us. I wrote about it in the book Looking Back: History through the eyes of those who lived it. I have seen weapons of mass destruction stockpiled for human doom. I have walked through a secret location with a military escort in a place in Siberia where a decommissioning facility was being built, a place that I could never find again and had better not. I have sat in the corner of a restaurant in Russia with an American Commander holding a laptop connected to God-knows-where while he sorted through its data to find some things that had recently been declassified so he could show me; there were some things he couldn't show me. The large shells that held chemical weapons were about my size; the smaller ones that would turn the Super Bowl into a morgue, were about the size of wine bottles. I have stood in assemblies holding two wine bottles and wearing a gas mask in order to graphically make a point.

But now I have identified an even more scary weapon of mass destruction. I discovered it while doing some new research. My advice: be afraid; be very afraid for this weapon is a heat seeking predator. Why is it so dangerous? Because it is 'friendly fire'; it's constructed so as to do the most damage in short bursts; it isn't aimed at an enemy but at one of our own. It's a stealth weapon that can come out of nowhere and take away your life. Yes it could happen to you in your fifteen minutes of fame and your six degrees of separation. What is it? The media.

The Mission: Human Suffering

Suffering is one of those common denominators and levelers for all of humanity. Humans know misery; humans suffer. Suffering comes in many forms: physical maladies that cause bodily pain, mental anguish, psychic wounding, imaginal fears, ecological dilemmas, circumstantial misfortune, and self inflicted injury or defeat. Some suffering appears to be accidental or resulting from particular twists of fate. Some suffering is wielded for political reasons, some for entertainment and profit.

One may be born into poverty which appears to be a geographical accident of birth; one may be born with deformity or acquire a handicap that sometimes is genetic and sometimes an acquired calamity; one may be subject to many kinds of accidents and mishaps through a lifetime; risk taking required by culture may elevate the incidence of accidents leading to unfortunate outcomes. And certainly these misfortunes are hard to comprehend or assimilate.

We ask “why?” Why has a particular circumstance visited one person and not another? We search for meaning in suffering because we do not want to believe in its randomness or senselessness. Even when misery is an accident of nature in some way, it is not easy to accept and only the most spiritually advanced among us can embrace it. I only knew two: a nun who taught meditation, founder of a spiritual retreat center who held gratitude for her creeping blindness as it assisted in her quest for enlightenment. No longer able to see the outside world, she was forced to focus on the internal one and this greatly accelerated her spiritual growth. Ram Dass has said of his stroke that limited his movement; he had to learn to stand still to know the Presence.

We affix blame when misfortune visits. We have blamed fate, circumstances, ourselves, God, karma, luck, Satan, the gods and goddesses and more through time. We tend to link character to fortune: ‘How could this happen; she is such a good person? She doesn’t deserve this.’ We sometimes try to link character to deserving dark times. When misfortune befalls someone we don’t like we declare facetiously: ‘It couldn’t have happened to a nicer person.’

The kind of suffering that is far more difficult to comprehend, for even the most tepidly moral person, is suffering heaped upon someone deliberately by another person. And the worst of those is the individual who with malice, plots in order to heap suffering on another for undeserved gain or something for which they have no claim or entitlement.

But there is another kind of suffering that is perpetrated upon another that constitutes the most vile purpose of all: entertainment. There have been many dark figures in history who have deliberately heaped suffering upon others: Hitler, Stalin, Bin Laden, Ivan the Terrible, come to mind. But mostly their reasons were political. There is, however, one famous figure in history known for inflicting suffering for sheer entertainment: Vlad the Impaler. According to the records, atrocities committed by Vlad to at least eighty thousand people include torturing, burning, skinning, roasting, and boiling people, feeding people the flesh of their friends or relatives, cutting off limbs, and drowning and skinning the feet, then putting salt on them and letting goats lick off the salt.

Pathologically sadistic, Vlad was highly entertained by watching people suffer. But his favorite voyeur pastime was impaling people on stakes. He perfected a method of using oil to make the stake slick so that it could be threaded cleverly in a way that would not pierce a vital organ but would keep the person alive for hours, even days. When impaling women with children, he often threaded their babies on the end of the state jutting from their own chest. In this way, the mother was able to witness the horrific death of her infant before her own death. Vlad customarily ordered his meals and dined near the victims as he particularly enjoyed watching them squirm and hearing the screams while eating.

Method of Deployment:

Yes, it’s hard to wrap your mind around that kind of depravity. Depravity comes in many flavors; there is even a contemporary kind that involves sadistic pleasure from entertainment. How much of a leap is it from sadistically impaling someone on a stake and inflicting maximum pain for your viewing pleasure to deliberately impaling someone on the cross of public humiliation, then periodically poking around and reopening the wounds to siphon all the psychic puss for encore? There is something lewd, salacious and obscene about the practice of impaling celebrities with today’s tabloid yellow pornography.

Have you noticed that currently the most popular genre in books and movies in our culture is Vampirism? We love to watch blood-letting and find it sexy? Does the irony of that escape you? Does the clamoring for tabloid gossip about our favorite celebrities satisfy some animalistic urge? It’s simply Neanderthal; no, more reptilian. There is something slimy about a culture supporting an industry that operates like a meat-market surgically slicing up pieces of people for human consumption. Stalking people with a voyeurs delight, carving them up, and feeding on their lives is cannibalism! There is nothing redeemable even human about engaging in a voyeurism that destroys people, their work, their lives and their futures. And our future.

It’s the kind of practice that deliberately looks for the lowest form of humanity. It gleefully attaches itself to its latest popular victim and sucks the life force from them. The worst offenders are journalists who deliberately hurl questions and insults designed to inflame the celebrity, already upset, so as to get even more lurid footage or copy for consumption.

Consumption of tabloid fodder and gossip is the kind of hobby that people engage in without thinking about the impact of their actions. Few think about the consequences of their indulging in the misguided practice of buying dirt rag magazines, watching tabloid TV, clamoring for the latest gossip about their celebrity interests. And reality TV is hardly ever a slice of my reality. How about yours?

Collateral Damage:

If we would think before we consume this stuff or clamor for more we might realize what is lost because of it, what futures are preempted because of it: What gifts do talented people withhold because they are afraid to venture into the public venue? How many performers hold back from introducing new or avant garde art for fear of public opinion? How many people deny they have a personal problem and delay or avoid treatment because if they checked themselves into a rehab facility, their personal lives would be splayed in headlines? How many great politicians have not run for public office because of the uncharitable scrutiny they face? How many books are not written because of the celebrity well known authors enjoy or because they might end up on someone's hit list? How many who have been excoriated by tabloid journalism give up on new work, new discoveries, maybe on humanity itself?

The tabloid frenzy over President Clinton’s indiscretion caused his impeachment. A president was impeached for behavior in his private life. And a beloved president of history was again exposed for private liaisons while in office. Is that our business? These kinds of exposures take down good men. Clinton subsequently has marshaled global humanitarian efforts responsible for saving the lives of millions. Had he been humiliated beyond repair and faded into obscurity because of a human failing what would we have lost?

Do you remember Vince Foster? Vince Foster was the Deputy White House Counsel for the Clintons who investigated the Travel office corruption charges on behalf of Hillary Clinton. He became so despondent over the affair that he committed suicide. His suicide resignation note read “I was not meant for the job or the spotlight of public life in Washington. Here ruining people is considered sport.”

Lady Diana was a favorite target of the tabloid press that insisted on focusing their spotlight on rumors of anorexia, bulimia and depression instead of her humanitarian work with children and eliminating land mines. And all this yellow press, while she was trying to hold together a marriage to a royal husband who was carrying a torch for someone else! What young new bride would navigate all that well? The Paparazzi haunted Diana endlessly and hunted her down on the night she died. Her driver had been drinking and certainly alcohol contributed to the accident. But the driver would not have been speeding if the Paparazzi had not been stalking and chasing Diana. And after the accident they helped to cause, they continued snapping pictures as she lay dying in the back seat.

And then there’s the most recent and visible casualty of the tabloid press: Michael Jackson. Deeply traumatized by the events of his life, by relentless exploitation by tabloid America, by rabid officials who anticipated their own fame in taking down a famous celebrity, dispirited by the treatment of his
face, skin color, his home, his work, his life and even his innocence, Michael had trouble sleeping at night. The two cases brought against Michael alleging impropriety with children brought the tabloids down on a gentle humanitarian whose life was about saving and healing children. A man who was singing “Heal the World” in Super Bowl performances and promoting peace in his concerts.

At his 2005 trial, hundreds of reporters drooling over anticipated juicy headlines, descended on the courthouse periphery. For five months they circled like vultures waiting to pick the bones from the carcass of his life served up in a trial with charges that never should have been brought. Michael simply wasn’t guilty.

Prison for someone like Michael Jackson would have been a death sentence. He lived month after month with that threat while the media conveniently left out newsworthy trial developments proving his innocence. Jermaine Jackson, Michael’s brother says he watched the light gradually go out of Michael’s eyes during the trial. A bone-weary, dispirited and traumatized father took his children and left his homeland, leaving behind a grueling trial, a justice system that failed to protect him from extortion, a media that impaled him and left him hanging exposed despite his innocence. He lost a home he cherished and shared for joy because he could no longer live there, the closeness to beloved Jackson family, and his country. A family with a history of extortion of other celebrities had targeted Michael and law enforcement with the media as accomplice, seduced by the allure of celebrity, played life and death games for sport.

How many Vince Fosters are there? What did we lose when we lost Diana and Michael? The loss is incalculable. Diana was the people’s princess and Michael was the most famous humanitarian in the world. They both were devoted to human welfare and social reform especially for children. Their work on this planet is legion and legendary as is their support of charities and generous philanthropy. Neither one had to, but they used their fame for all of humanity, for the elimination of pain, misery and suffering. And how did we thank these global messengers? We killed them.

Early Warning System:

Yellow press and you know who you are: here is your WMD Early Warning: More and more people are waking up on this planet. More humans are courting their own spirituality and enlightenment. Put your finger on that pulse because that heartbeat of humanity is our future. And I guarantee that you will not be here then. Unless you change your methods and reinvent your genre, you will be irrelevant. I promise you we, humanity, are far more than your narrow definition could ever imagine. We are tired of low slung dramas that don't work, a higher game awaits us and viewed from here, it sparkles.

Your imaginings are wrong; we are better than that! It’s sad enough that pain and misery visits every single life on this planet. We no longer wish to deliberately inflict it. Not for sport. You want to keep us down and drinking your Koolaid? You want us obedient to your doctrine? You think that is really going to work? We want to change. We are growing up and we don't want publications and media that slay people for fun. We are tired of the doom and gloom of people’s wounded humanity; we would like to hear about their brilliance. It's time. We want to applaud human contributions to art and life. We want to respect public figures more and be mature enough to allow them some dignity and privacy.

Decommissioning the Weapon:

We have a request media: We want you to stop inviting us where we don’t belong. We want you to give us the facts without the hype and sensationalism that by someone else’s arrogant determination censors what we are entitled to. We resent being spoon fed untruths so that somebody can sell a vile product and get fat paychecks because we are believed sophomoric. We resent being duped and treated like a commodity: like a consumer pig fattened up with garbage for the purpose of someone else’s slaughter. We are intelligent people; we would really like the facts and to decide for ourselves who and what we value.

Stop belittling us and all of humanity with your de-evolution. And now that we have all allowed the devolved media to destroy people who were national treasures and we have jeopardized a more bedazzled future because of the contributions they can no longer make, we are asking you to please stop killing people on our behalf. No, we are demanding it. We want no part in it. We want to breathe clear air not tainted with the stench of tabloid slaughter. We don't want to sit down to our dinner like Vlad, while tabloid TV shows dangle impaled flailing celebrity bodies in front of us during our meal. We don't want to feel that guilt or shame. We want to be part of creating a world we can live with and we can tell you it's not this one.

Peacekeeping Force:

We want to create a world where art is esteemed in whatever form, where beauty is a common pleasure, where the human mind and spirit is elevated; no, revered and we want help with that. We want a world where people’s woundedness is cradled with tenderness not exposed with glee. We want you to listen to us, to help us celebrate the human spirit, not feel ashamed of it. We all feel the winds changing and we want you to stop blowing us in the wrong direction. We want you to support us... humanity. We want you to do that by elevating the art of communication back to where it belongs and to feature and be the change we long to see in the world.

We have seen enough of what your weapons of mass destruction can do to a person and a world when they are unleashed. They destroy humanity. Ours. The create vacuums in the future where human treasures might have walked. We are asking you, the media… the latest incarnation of a WMD to decommission your arsenal and help us to make peace with ourselves... with the rest of the members of our human family. And please, help us to close the door on a shadowy era now past. We are ready to be the change we wish to see in the world. We need you now to convey not the darkness of our species, but our brilliance to us.

---------------------------------------
**To be released soon for reprint.
c) 2010 & beyond B. Kaufmann, One Wordsmith

The Measure of a Man: A word about character

2010-02-17T19:26:00.002-06:00

How do you determine the true measure of a man? What are the clues? What speaks to us most of the character of a person? Certainly it is not what someone else writes or says about them? What someone writes about them or reports about them is at a minimum at least one step removed, if not many, from the real. Just as a painting is not the real, but a likeness or representation of the real, depictions painted of people are not truth. The words spoken by another many times removed are just words, just opinions. The painting of a thing emerges from the colors and brushstrokes of the artist, not those of the painting’s subject. The painting is not the essence. The scribe’s slant will always find its way into the scroll for the two—scribe and scroll are not, and cannot be, separated.

Better to go yourself to the source, place your finger on the pulse and your hand on the heart. Breathe the same air, look at the same landscape, walk a time in those moccasins. Stand in the essence and especially in the inventions of a life to know the mind of the one who created them.

Better to read or listen to the words of the individual himself than to others speaking about him… to get the nuances, the essence, read the voice inflection, hear the tone and timbre all the while reading the face, the mouth, the language the body speaks and its congruency. Better to see the eyes for where and how they glance and dance and sparkle.

When the spirit of one is engaged, it knows the spirit of the other. Spirit meets spirit; soul meets soul. One is known by what is important to their heart, and how they feel about what their life encounters. Know the man by knowing the man's life. As they move through life, what do they leave in their wake? Spent shells of people? Broken bodies? Shattered and abandoned dreams? Destruction and disappointment? Or do they love well and leave better people behind their footfalls, the world a better place for their having passed that way?

Who surrounds them? Who remains and who departs? From whom do they receive praise? By whom are they embraced? By what claims and kudos are they remembered? Who forms their circle? Whom do they admire? Whom do they emulate? Whose company do they keep? What affirmations of self do they leave for evidence? What objects surround them? What books fill their library? What art graces their walls? Does it speak of inspirations and aspirations? Of better tomorrows?

To know the man, know his landscape. Know his real friends. Know where he is loyal. Know his heart by what he holds dear, what he stands up for, what he gets angry about, what his heart embraces as important, as priority. Watch how and where he wields his influence, what he does for others, and what measure he gives back because of what he has received. Observe how he carries himself in the face of fortune and how he holds himself up within shadow and sorrow. Observe how style, dignity, mirth and grace inform his world. A man’s character is revealed in the acts he engages in and who he is being in navigating the world in every moment. Know what he is doing with his one wild and precious life; for in spending time in his pursuits, he is also spending life.

Who was Michael Jackson? What of his true character? What was the measure of this man? Meet the real Michael Jackson in his work, his films, his writings, his philanthropy, his artwork that depicted whom he admired and to what he aspired, his dreams, his accomplishments, his aspirations; know him in his body of work.

In Michael’s writing is where we meet intimately, Michael the idealist, the dreamer, someone capable of deep reflection and deep commitment. We discover someone who is connected with the world and with his relationship to the world on a very profound level. We learn about someone who is introspective and sensitive and respectful, who finds the Divine lurking everywhere. We can know his character and meet the real Michael in the messages, magic and mystery that he was hiding—in plain sight.

Here are a couple of few clues from Michael’s book Dancing the Dream:

“Enough for Today”

Dance rehearsals can go on past midnight, but this time I stopped at ten. “I hope you don’t mind,” I said, looking up into space, “but that’s enough for today.”

A voice from the control room spoke, “You Okay?”

“A little tired, I guess,” I said.

I slipped on a windbreaker and headed down the hall. Running footsteps came up behind me. I was pretty sure who they belonged to. “I know you too well,” she said, catching up with me.” “What’s really wrong?”

I hesitated. “Well, I don’t know how this sounds, but I saw a picture today in the papers. A dolphin had drowned in a fishing net. From the way its body was tangled in the lines, you could read so much agony. Its eyes were vacant, yes there was still that smile, the one dolphins never lose, even when they die…” My voice trailed off.

She put her hand lightly in mine. “I know. I know.”

“No, you don’t know all of it yet. It’s not just that I felt sad, or had to face the fact that an innocent being had died. Dolphins love to dance—of all the creatures in the sea, that’s their mark. Asking nothing from us, they cavort in the waves while we marvel. They race ahead of ships, not to get there first but to tell us, ‘It’s all meant to be play. Keep to your course, but dance while you do it.’

“So there I was, in the middle of rehearsal, and I thought. ‘They’re killing a dance.’ And then it seemed only right to stop. I can’t keep the dance from being killed, but at least I can pause in memory, as one dancer to another. Does that make any sense?”

Her eyes were tender. “Sure in its way. Probably we’ll wait years before everyone agrees on how to solve this thing. So many interests are involved. But it’s too frustrating waiting for improvements tomorrow. Your heart wanted to have its say now.”

“Yes,” I said, pushing the door open for her. “I just had this feeling, and that’s enough for today.” *

And another glimpse into the measure of the man:

“But the Heart Said No”

“They saw the poor living in cardboard shacks, so they knocked the shacks down and built projects. Huge blocks of cement and glass towered over asphalt parking lots. Somehow it wasn’t much like home. Even home in a shack. “What do you expect?” they asked impatiently. “You’re too poor to live like us until you can do better for yourselves, you should be grateful, shouldn’t you?”
The head said yes, but the heart said no.

“They needed more electricity in the city, so they found a mountain stream to dam. As the waters rose, dead rabbits and deer floated by: baby birds too young to fly drowned in the nest while mother birds cried helplessly. ”It’s not a pretty sight,“ they said, “but now a million people can run their air conditioners all summer. That’s more important than one mountain stream, isn’t it?”
The head said yes, but the heart said no.

“They saw oppression and terrorism in a far-off land, so they made war against it. Bombs reduced the country to rubble. Its population cowered in fear, and every day more villagers were buried in rough wooden coffins. “You have to be prepared to make sacrifices,” they said. “If some innocent bystanders get hurt, isn’t that just the price one must pay for peace?”
The head said yes, but the heart said no.

“The years rolled by and they got old. Sitting in their comfortable houses, they took stock. “We’ve had a good life,” they said, “and we did the right thing.” Their children looked down and asked why poverty, pollution and war were still unsolved. “You’ll find out soon enough,” they replied. “Human beings are weak and selfish. Despite our best efforts, these problems will never really end.”
The head said yes, but the children looked into their hearts and whispered, “No!” *

*Excerpts from Dancing the Dream © 1992 by Michael Jackson

Is It OK To Be Angry About Michael's Death?

2010-02-11T23:56:00.011-06:00

Yes. I am angry too. No, not angry; furious. I read the reports. As a nurse I am appalled at the conduct of the physician who supposedly was attending Michael Jackson and tending to his medical needs. While I don’t believe his death was caused deliberately, Dr. Murray did not meet even the most basic standards of care for the administration of an anesthetic medication. But there are more who are culpable than Murray. Was there a conspiracy to kill Michael Jackson? Yes. But it’s not what you think. That will be another article and only after I calm down. The doctor attending Michael had no business administering Diprovan at home in a non-medical setting. That is not an aspirin; it is big guns medicine. It is dangerous and is never administered without medication to counteract it. And never without the proper resuscitation devices and backup equipment. Giving it in the home just isn’t done. It wouldn’t occur to someone who really understands the drug, its effects and potential dangers.

The combination of drugs administered over the course of the night absolutely dictated that Michael be closely observed and monitored for any symptoms of toxicity. Drugs interact with other drugs potentiating the effects making each one stronger than if given alone. Michael should have been on monitors. And giving a potent drug like Diprovan after all those sedatives amounts to playing Russian Roulette with your patient’s life. And it’s particularly irresponsible when the patient was someone who had rehearsed for 8 hours that day and was most assuredly dehydrated. His electrolytes had to be out of normal range. Electrolytes are minerals in the blood. Potassium, which is the most significant, can stop the heart at abnormal blood levels. Murray should have factored in all those variables and he should have been right there monitoring breathing. This is an act of total negligence!

Dr. Murray was a cardiologist not an anesthesiologist. He was not qualified to administer the medication which is used for anesthetizing patients for surgery. In fact Dr. Murray apparently was not educated enough about Diprovan to even have it in his possession. How many times did he administer this anesthetic to Michael? Nightly? That is like putting someone “under” for surgery every night. The effects of anesthesia last a long time and can be cumulative. The reports indicate he bolused Michael which means he gave a dose all at once in a syringe instead of in a slow drip. Placing Michael in a coma nightly would have required placing a catheter in and the collection of urine because you can't get up and urinate when you're comatose. Imagine the indignity and vulnerability Michael endured just to get some sleep!

Do I think Michael may have begged for medication? Yes, I suppose he did. Was he in anguish because he couldn’t sleep? Of course. Michael's insommnia became serious during the 2005 trail and he always had trouble coming down after concerts while on tour. He had great pressures and responsibilities that fell to him with the upcoming comback concerts in London. The stakes were high. Maybe too high.

I also hold accountable the previous physician or physicians who ever gave him Propofol for sleep at any time in the past! What kind of mind even entertains the idea of using anesthesia for an insomniac? That is where the problem began—in the mind that first came up with the idea. Dr. Murray was doing what had already been done before by others. Was he trained? No. Should he have known better? Yes. Is he culpable? Oh, yes. But others are just as guilty. Michael Jackson should have been evaluated in a clinical setting and treated for a sleep disorder and for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It doesn’t take rocket science to figure out that a highly sensitive person who truly cared for children evidenced by his visiting children, hospitals and orphanages around the world, and donating half his total salary to children’s charities would be devastated and traumatized by a haunting past that resulting in losing his beloved home and life as he knew it. There would be no solace and no sleep anywhere to mitigate that kind of past trauma.

Imagine with me this scenario happening to you:

You felt you had to leave the country of your birth because you no longer could believe in it. You could no longer trust or believe in its system of justice. You lost the home that you loved. It became a place of invasion, darkness and ridicule. It was the one place on earth where you could go and find some peace. It was where sleep was once sweet. It was the place you built in order to give people joy. It was the place where you hosted children from the ghetto, children who were sick or dying, children who would otherwise never have magic in their lives.

Imagine that you were accused of unthinkable acts upon children. Imagine having that information reported worldwide and protesting those horrid accusations claiming your innocence from the beginning. Imagine knowing that celebrity has its privileges and one of those is to become a target. And often the target of a shakedown for money. The celebrity you worked so hard for, that you gave up your childhood for and anything resembling freedom to come and go in the world for, invites the sleazy who would exploit you for greed or dark entertainment. You have learned that the human mind is only too willing to bastardize someone they feel has become too elevated in their success. Imagine knowing that the biggest tabloid, The Enquirer, admits to their part in trying to destroy your life saying “We bring these people down; that is what we do.”

Imagine that in 1993 when the first accusations were made, three grand juries convened by the district attorney refused to indict you because evidence didn’t support charges. The boy who accused you refuses to testify against you and it is his father, the real accuser, files charges because you refused to bankroll his career change from dentist to screen writer. He says for that he will destroy you and that statement is documented on tape. You discover that since the D.A. didn’t have enough to file charges, he has traveled round the world looking for another victim to corroborate the accusation and couldn’t find even one. Not one in the whole world! Even though criminal charges are never filed, people still think you guilty because your insurance company, overruling your protest and veto, paid an out of court settlement because it would be less expensive than a full trial. Your insurance company paid for your “abandonment” of the child, not for violating him. But those important facts never make their way into the news.

You wonder why people are so willing to believe the worst of you. You wonder why nobody is speaking about your charitable works with and for children. You wonder: what you could possibly have done to deserve all this? All you ever wanted to do was make music.

Then imagine that the same D.A. collaborating with the same attorney and the same psychiatrist, files the same kind of charges again in 2003. Imagine one day while you are somewhere else in the world, 70 deputies descend on your sanctuary going into every private corner of your life, rifling through your things, photographing your private spaces. The photos expose your private space and private life to all the world. Nothing is sacred. Imagine watching a press conference televised internationally where this same gleeful district attorney announces to the world that he will file charges for those same unspeakable acts. Imagine that those accusations come from a family whose child dying of cancer, asked to meet you as his dying wish. This is the same child who became your personal charitable project: while you were touring the world, you called this child every night to tell him you simply would not allow his dying! You demanded that he hang on long enough to come to Neverland to visit and spend time with you—his idol. You hosted his whole family many times at your estate telling them to put whatever they need on your tab. Then you took them all around the world on multiple tours with you. You did all this to keep that child alive, to give him hope and reason to live. The love you showered on that child had nothing deviant about it. You wanted to keep him alive; you wanted him to heal. Imagine having to live with this nightmare being the way they repay you. Imagine your heartbreak.

So now this time around you resolve you will fight in court to prove your innocence, to redeem yourself in the eyes of the world. You hope to reclaim your reputation so carelessly sullied by those whose agenda was exploitation and extortion of celebrity.

Imagine that as your trial progresses and it begins to look like, once again, there is no substance to the charges. The media ignores those facts in favor of continuing the frenzied madness because it’s selling copy. How do you day after day listen to the vile accusations of being a deviant and harming an innocent child? When you have saved children all over the world by paying for their necessary surgeries, artificial limbs, transplants, funerals, and the building of new hospitals and orphanages? How?

Imagine trying to hang on to your sanity day after day and trying to find reason to hope for your salvation when there is none. Imagine knowing that the audience watching the trial is not seeing the truth because it is not being reported. Imagine wondering what world journalists who are supposed to be professionals are living in—fantasy or reality? Then imagine wondering which world the jury inhabits. Is it the same one? Will they see the truth? Will they see the real you? Will they see this case for what it was? Or will they be drunk on the Kool-Aid too?

And even if you are found innocent, what will happen to the pieces that were your life? You can never go back home because it has become a place that will forever be tainted by the intrusion that took place there. This magical place that brought joy to so many has been so sullied that it would be a constant reminder of your darkest memory of humanity. It will never again feel like a sanctuary. You can’t go back. And what of your country? Its systems? Its media? Its people? In fact, can you still believe in anything ever again? Lots of your songs were about changing the world and making it a better place. Do you still think it’s redeemable? Still worth it? That people are still worth it? Will you ever sing that anthem again? Maybe you can’t ever go home—to a house, a country or in your heart.

In the trial Michael was found innocent. Fourteen times he was found innocent. Apparently the jury saw no evidence and no case. After a grueling five months of living in a world that he never knew, never saw coming, never would have believed existed, he was found innocent. And afterwards, it was revealed that the tabloid offered the jurors lots of money to say they weren’t sure their verdict was correct. Imagine the monumental betrayal.

What one of us could withstand that kind of assault on our lives? People have trouble with an IRS audit; how would anyone survive that kind sustained darkness coming wave after wave? Who among us could stand up and face a daily barrage of it? How many could continue on? Or even show up for life? And in the aftermath could you stay? Would you? Would you go back? Ever?

After everything that Michael Jackson went through do you suppose sleep might have been a problem? People with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder have trouble sleeping. During the trial there would have been an accompanying fear of imprisonment. Sleeping well at night would be impossible; in fact sleeping at all would be rare. And the landscape of one’s life would be in shreds. Imagine the exhaustion. The trial was a life and death experience; had Michael gone to prison, he would not have survived. Do you suppose he knew that? Do you think he thought about it?

Do you suppose he suffered trauma? Had nightmares? Endured sleeplessness? Despair? Do you think the wound may have been so severe and so deep that it cut through flesh and bone and right down to the soul? Do you think the ordeal might have slashed his psyche, his mind, his reputation, his future, his faith in humanity and human nature? Maybe his very soul? When something quakes the soul like that, PTSD is a given. I suspect Michael had acute untreated PTSD. There are meds that ameliorate the anxiety of PTSD. They are cardiac meds and a cardiologist certainly should know about them. There are treatments for PTSD and they don’t involve life-threatening and dangerous medical practices! They don’t involve anesthetizing someone into coma night after night!

Of course Michael craved relief from his wounds and woundedness; wouldn’t you? Of course Michael was feeling tentative about his comeback. Would the world even want him back? Could he go back home again? And if medicine could take away some of that anxiety and pain, most of us would say “bring it on.” As tolerance is built to medication, more medication is needed to get the same level of relief. This is how addiction is born. No one sets out to become an addict. People do not think one day “I think my next goal in life will be to become addicted to prescription drugs.” Addiction occurs when the soul is wounded and the pain is beyond endurance.

Can the soul survive assault after assault? Assault to your appearance? Assault to your skin color? Assault to your personal life? Assault from tabloid stories made up to sell papers? Assault from people constantly stalking you? Assault from a media that slams you and never prints any redeeming information? Assault from a justice system that seems anything but just? Assaults from people wanting to make a buck off of their acquaintance with you? Assault from “friends” and employees who are offered obscene amounts of money to lie about you and expose your most private moments? And all this while never being able to venture out and live any kind of normal life.

Yes, I am angry about all of it: the way Michael was treated during the arrest, the trial, and watching as greed by a human or two or few, can negate a lifetime of humanitarian work. I’m angry that Michael’s life’s work was sullied, that the media fed like giant leaches on a celebrated genius who only wanted to make music and make his audiences happy. I am angry with the blood sucking sycophants who surrounded him including his doctors. I am angry with the perhaps dozens of doctors who medicated Michael’s body with drugs instead of getting him the help his soul needed. And don’t even start with me about someone who should have been a soul doctor ie. "spiritual advisor" who reveals intimate in-session conversations in a book. That is like a priest releasing transcripts of what you said in the confessional.

I would be angry about this scenario happening to anyone. I would be ashamed of us no matter who this happened to. I would be mortified that someone had to endure this kind of unkindness. I would be incensed by the mean freaks who dared to crawl out from under the rocks of their lackluster lives to tarnish someone who truly was a humanitarian. I would be livid that we all allowed this to happen, that we could allow it again. I am angry that what killed Lady Diana also killed Michael—the bizarre incessant insistence on a voyeur’s intrusion into someone else’s life because we can find no value in our own. I am angry and I am ashamed beyond redemption.

Is it OK to be angry? Of course it’s OK. Anger is part of the process of grief and loss. This anger is justifiable. It’s warranted. It may even be necessary in order to change the way we find ourselves being and who we are becoming for the future. It may help us abandon our feelings of victimization and step into a greater, more mature and and responsible self-reflective Self. Can you be a spiritual person and be angry? Oh, yes. Sri Ravi Shankar, treasured spiritual leader from India once said in Satsang: “Being spiritual does not mean being sweetie sweetie all the time.” This advice from the most serene man I’ve ever met. Being serene in the face of abomination is an abomination.

Be angry. Yell. Rend your garments. Scream across the lake. Write letters with reasonable arguments to those who should get them. Make sure they sound intelligent and reasonable so they are not dismissed. Petition for changes to the law. Look in the mirror of your own life and see where you are being that which you accuse others of. Write tomes where you rant and rail at the system or the injustices, then burn them a ritual fire. Burn someone in effigy in the same flames. Beat your mattress or pillow. Work out at the gym. That is all healthy. What do you do with your anger? Channel it into something constructive! Use that energy to forge the change you would like to see in the world.

But don’t give anger unlimited safe haven. Do not harbor it. Express it and get it out in a way that does not harm others. Do not internalize it in a way that harms self. Determine that you will work it out rather than leave the toxin inside you to seep into your cells, pshyche and soul. Do not take it out on those around you. Do not contribute to runaway conspiracy theories or gossip. Do not waste your energy fighting the ignorant. Go to where change can be made. Look into the facts. Do not destroy; teach. Do not dismiss; engage. Do not flail about; focus. Put your anger into sacred activism- that means doing something that serves humanity and advances its enlightenment. Do it in Michael's name. Do it in his memory. Yes, please be angry. Be very angry. Then be the change.

Who's the "Bad" Avatar?

2010-02-07T14:45:00.009-06:00

People of color. Blue color. People who can fly. People who revere the human-animal bond and ride on the backs of bird creatures. The main character, a member of the human race encourages and assists these people of color to take back their rightful place as heirs and stewards of their planet. A member of that race, half human and half Avatar groomed to assist with the rape of a land for its natural resources, turns on his own kind (humans) to save the Navi’s world. It is corporate greed and an attitude of entitlement that has placed this world in peril and one half-breed launches a campaign to stop the rape of a planet and save it from destruction. At one point during the battle for scarce resources a character turns to the enemy and says “Who’s bad?”

The antagonist is a seasoned and hardened warrior from the Military Industrial Complex who sees force as the only means to accomplish the ends. Ever the Machiavellian mercenary, even after the mission is lost, he continues the hunt-to-kill of the protagonist because being a product of indoctrinated violence, he knows nothing else.

The inhabitants of this new and unusual world have discovered a way to bond with the creatures of the planet in cooperative endeavors beneficial to both. The world and its many species are bioluminescent, glowing with their own inner light in the darkness. Initially the part human visitor does not understand that there is a deeper live connection that underlies and weaves its branches like the brain’s dendrite neurons throughout all life on the planet. He sees himself as separate from the world’s biology—a grave mistake. Because he does not know or understand there is another way to navigate the interconnected web of life and because he feels no kinship or link with them, he becomes their victim. His survival then, is dependent on making war with them and killing them.

This human Avatar is eventually educated and converted to someone in reverence to the inhabitants, the biology, telepathy and the bioluminescent and interconnected web of life. He later learns that if he uses an available bio link that allows for a sympathetic and telepathic connection, he is able to “feel” into the body and fields of the life and creatures around him.

This archetypal hero’s journey is not a new theme. The Hindu deity Vishnu is a blue Planetary Avatar who rides on the back of a giant bird. He is one of the triumvirate of deities that include also Brahma and Shiva. Brahma is the Hindu creator god, Shiva is the destroyer and Vishnu is the preserver. It’s another of the holy triunes. His vehicle for flight is Garuda the sun bird, enemy of serpents. Vishnu is said to come to Earth as an Avatar when great evil threatens to destroy the world. He can appear also as Rama and as Krishna. The next incarnation of Vishnu at the Kali-Yuga, thought to be around the year 2012, will be Kalki, the white horse.

At one point during the movie, the aggressive civilization (Earth) that wants the “Unobtanium” matter that is rare and expensive decides the diplomacy with the Indigenous is not working and resolves to take it from them by force. The audience then revisits a dark time in American history—genocide of the Native American tribes for their resource—land. Chief Seattle tried to warn of the consequences of this attitude of entitlement at the turn of the century and ignoring that message has landed us where we are today at global climate crises.

The audience is then engulfed in war-making and destruction while a giant land-mover clear cuts a path to the Unobtanium while locking in coordinates for the tree of souls which is the spiritual epicenter of the telepathic connection center of the Indigenous people’s existence. The military aggressor using giant and multiple typically over-the-top ordinance, brings down the foundation of the alien culture virtually destroying any opposition to their takeover and military-style “acquisition” of scarce resources.

The good news is that this movie has grossed more than any other movie in history. That means it is popular and the theme is popular. The contemporary message is encoded in modern mythology and it is timely; the audience is ready to get it. The bad news is that a bioluminescent little Moonwalker was spreading this message fifteen years ago while many couldn’t hear it or ridiculed the messenger.

Does any of this theme sound familiar? Avatar delivered the message in superstar fashion. Michael would have been delighted; he would have been proud. It is the kind of movie he himself would have made because he planned to make filmmaking his next creative genre. I know Michael would have loved the movie; would have squealed with excitement. In fact, I swear I felt him in the seat next to me.

There are so many parallels with Michael’s musical and visual message in “Earth Song” that I half expected to see him walk on screen during the movie. The “Who’s Bad” reference was far too stunning and deliberate to be coincidence. So were the footfalls lighting up in the forest reminiscent of Billy Jean as the romantic leads walked through. And that backhanded swipe of the mouth by the character whose nose was broken? It was the typical pensive bad-boy gesture Michael debuted in Bad short film and Come Together. I sat frozen in my seat long into the credits expecting to see Michael’s name, a dedication or mention of the homage. It wasn't there. If you didn't know Michael's work, you wouldn't notice. But I think Michael knows. Who's the "Bad" Avatar?

Michael and Mystery

2010-02-02T11:45:00.019-06:00

There is value in mystery. Mystery is an attractor, it pulls you in. Mystery creates an inner tension. From the beginning of time humans have wanted to explain mysteries: Legends, folklore, myths, stories, fables, allegories, metaphors, theologies, anthropology, magic, ritual, archetypes, and more are all ways of attempting to explain mystery. Why do we have the need for explanation? Because mystery makes us uncomfortable. It is hard to sit with “why?" It is also hard to make space for, embrace and hold simultaneously—opposites or contradictions.

Explanations have given comfort in their time but often appear irrational or outrageous when viewed from the future. Displeased gods punished humans for offending them? Mountains are sleeping giants? Stars are mythological creatures? The moon is made of cheese?

To know that we don’t know makes us uneasy yet it is a completely open learning space. If we are so sure of our explanations, we leave no room for amendments. The Divine is mysterious. Life is mystery. The cosmos and creation are mystifying. Yet, we say we are sure of our beliefs, our understandings. For example: if we are so sure of our God, whom we defend even with killing, terrorism and war, then we can never investigate or assimilate what another may have learned about the Divine mysteries.

Blind devotion or unquestioned allegiance to fact is employed because it is easy; it requires no effort, it is the lazy way to knowledge. That kind of knowledge is less about what and more about who. It invites you to tell me an answer I can feel comfortable with; gives you permission to explain my misery and give me hope of finding my way out so that I will adopt that belief and follow you. Remember Jonestown? Remember the Kool-Aid? Want to drink some? We’re talking danger, baby. Shake me out of my complacency and watch the fireworks begin.

Mystery is not deviance yet has been often treated as such through time. Any who do not share the predominant cultural world view are regarded with suspicion. To challenge the existing paradigm is to risk castration of your power in some form—perhaps actual emasculation, shunning, banishment, ridicule, attack, demoralization, disregard, and even death.

Transfer those labels of "odd," "strange," "uncanny," "unorthodox" to a person and you create a “foreigner,” “minority,” or a “deviant” who if untouchable by way of defying explanation becomes “different” or “bizarre” and you set up an unbearable tension that necessarily leads to incoherency. Incoherency is not tolerated because things must, after all, be accounted for! All must be comprehensible! It must somehow fit into the already known world. If it doesn’t fit somehow, it disturbs the validity of a society’s entire fabric of knowledge. Do that and you risk the wrath and annihilation by a society that wants you to cease! Present or represent some kind of un-encountered reality or be an anomaly, and you upset the entrenched view of normal! Disturb the sleeping giant at your own peril! Disturb him and watch 'Neverland' crumble. Anthropologists have called it “metaphysical anxiety” and “anomic terror.”

People who would dare to challenge or intend to disturb the status quo are provocative and evocative and are regarded through the lens of metaphysical anxiety or terror. They awaken the sleeping giant who thrashes about flailing to fend off existential examination. Such people cast doubt upon the reality that inhabits a society. Labels and judgments begin to explain and alleviate this uneasiness: “primitive;” “disturbed;” “different;” “outrageous;” “deviant;” and if I can’t find one, I’ll invent something, make it up. In other words: “Get thee from me.” It’s easier to believe you are a deviant than it is to believe I am flawed or incomplete or that the view I am so comfortable with may be less than ideal or god-help-me—wrong!

Only the most courageous among us walk this path. Without them, Polio, Malaria, Black Plague would still exist; the pyramids would still be buried and Tutankhamun still unknown; germs and unpasteurized milk would still make people sick; DNA would be unknown and criminals would walk free; medicines would be undiscovered; Disneyland would not exist; racial inequality would go unexamined; the Berlin Wall would still be standing; Russia would still be the communist Soviet Union; the ‘Force’ of Star Wars would still be secret; the moon would not have a footprint; and yes, even Earth would not exist.

And most frightening of all, the Internet would not exist and that would mean: the world would not be profoundly connected; genocide could still be hidden; communication would be limited; important voices could not be heard; much of the world would be inaccessible; the potential for critical mass would not be imminent. To kill mystery is a grave error: it is to exhume the unthinkable.

Question and answer period:

Q. Did Michael Jackson use mystery effectively?
A. Oh, yes.
Q. Did it gain him attention?
A. Precisely.
Q. Did he do it deliberately?
A. Absolutely.
Q. Did he challenge the paradigm?
A. Exquisitely.
Q. Did he know what he was doing?
A. Exactly.
Q. And how well did it go over?
A. It worked.
Q. So the world heard his message?
A. Millions did.
Q. And the rest?
A. They killed the messenger.

Photo credit: Flickr "Magic Photography" (c) 2009

Michael Jackson- Becoming White

2010-01-31T09:29:00.009-06:00

Suppose your face is your fortune, your career places you in the public eye and your livelihood depends on always looking polished and perfect and glittering with some new and unique wardrobe because the public that elevated you to stardom has come to expect that of you. Suppose that as someone in the limelight, you know that the public has a short attention span, can be fickle and is easily swayed by propaganda.

Suppose you have worked hard, driven yourself to reach a pinnacle of success and attained a modicum of fame because of your contribution to an industry loaded with not only lots of talent but fierce competition. Suppose you knew that your staying relevant in that industry demanded that you always be inventing something fresh and new to keep people clamoring after your product. Suppose that to keep yourself contemporary and in demand you had to frequently reinvent yourself along the way.

Suppose that you have achieved a level of fame where your name and product are instantly recognized round the world. What If you loved your work and loved your audiences and that creating, for you, is like breathing—you can’t live without it. What if your survival hinged on your voice, your body, your appearance, and your overall appeal? And what if that chosen industry is monitored and scrutinized by a very public medium with the power to make or break you and your future—the press? What if there are few in that peering industry who are kind and supportive and what if most are mean spirited and interested only in “the story”—juicy news with details of scandals, foibles and fodder for failure? What if they are just waiting for you to misstep? What if they are perpetually just poised to pounce?

And given all that pressure to stay present and relevant, what if your body, the machine that drives the whole enterprise starts to have some serious problems? What if your body begins to betray you? To turn on itself? What if your whole reason for being is suddenly in question? What if the future is uncertain? And what if a fickle public with a short attention span and an even shorter memory begins to lose interest because you no longer look good? When your life is in the spotlight? What do you do then?

Would you try to hide your imperfections? Of course. We all do it. We wear body stockings; have breast enhancements; take Viagra; use creams and hormones and soaps and perfumes; die our hair or get perms; use augmented undergarments; wear lifts or high heels; work out at the gym; buy the latest fashions; get tattoos or piercings; have hair extensions; get pedicures and nails done; take vitamins; go on a diet; visit the tanning parlor and a thousand other things to remain attractive and relevant.

So when Michael Jackson was diagnosed with Vitiligo—a disease that turns the skin white, around 1983, why was it so difficult to understand how threatening that would have been to someone who made his living on the stage? How is it that when he explained what was going on with his body, some refused to believe him? A disease that mars your face and body must be very threatening to someone who makes their living on stage. It must raise huge self esteem issues—something not foreign to Michael, for he had acne as a teen. It has to feel like a huge betrayal to have your own body, your own immune system turn against you. You must question and blame yourself initially. You must feel a sense of shame and want to hide your blemished body and marred being.

Might it have been frightening and disheartening as the first black entertainer to do so many pioneering things only to see yourself losing your racial identity? Would it hurt to hear yourself being accused of deliberately betraying and abandoning your race? How could the public not understand how painful that must have been for a man who grew up in a famous black family? A man who grew up with James Brown who, for a whole generation of kids, made it OK to be black teaching them to sing: “I’m black and I’m Proud.”

When someone contracts cancer, we do not blame that victim. We do not berate them for the changes to their bodies. We do not condemn the chemotherapy that is a necessary treatment to keep the disease in remission.

Does anyone ask for a disease that causes the body to change into someone unrecognizable? Does one wish for a disease that progresses and engulfs one’s whole being, that makes a day at the beach impossible, that precludes romping in the sunlight with your children because it’s dangerous, that causes you to live your life under umbrellas because your condition gets worse without them? How does one bear the accusations of “liar” from those who feel you are abandoning your own ethnic origins? How does one stand the label “freak” when the changes in your body are involuntary and require concealment in order to keep up the public persona and superstardom status the world has come to expect? How does one not become bitter, angry, less than human? How does one continue to perform center-stage knowing that the makeup conceals a secret and hides a fear that if revealed could repulse even the most loyal of your public?

Vitiligo is a disease that causes its host to lose pigmentation in the skin. Pasty white patches begin to appear and as the disease progresses, more and more skin takes on that pasty hue. Universal Vitiligo, the severe form, which Michael Jackson had, affects more than 80% of the body. The disease erases pigmentation making the skin eventually appear transluscent. In the beginning stages the skin becomes blotchy as the body begins to attack its own melanocyte cells that produce skin color. As the disease progresses, more and more of the body turns white until an African American becomes more white than black. What remains then to treat it, is to even up the skin tones. In the beginning, a black person could use dark makeup to cover the de-pigmented areas. But as more and more of the body is affected, full body makeup becomes impractical. Later, as one becomes more and more white, destroying the remaining pigmentation to even out the color of the skin becomes the one viable option.

Sunlight aggravates the condition and speeds the progression of Vitiligo. Sunscreen becomes imperative. Spending time at the beach or in direct sunlight can cause severe problems. Living under an umbrella to block the sun would at least slow the disease and prevent skin problems or reactions to sunlight. It seems the umbrella created mystery and cast more than a reasonable lack-of-sunlight shadow on Michael Jackson. Metaphor for mysterious? Oh yes, and very effective for it drew attention. And how Michael loved attention; his career, of course, depended on it. But how did it become a metaphor for not just mystery but darkness?

How did Michael take the risk when he stepped out from the most personal of places—one’s medical record and history and gave a public interview, revealing with great trepidation that there is something wrong with his body? That his immune system is not working properly, that he is struggling with issues of trust of his own body that appears to have betrayed him? That his identity, his appearance and all that he stands for has created for him, an existential crisis because an involuntary disease has made its home in his body—a body that is important for stage presence, for performance, for identity, for status, his work and his life? How does he then reconcile revealing that most intimate of secrets of his life and then be called a liar? What is more intimate than one’s own body? What is more preciously guarded? What is more threatening to a star on stage, than involuntary changes in health and appearance?

Michael hid his condition for a long time, trying even to hide it from his makeup artist. He didn't want to reveal this most private of struggles publicly. Yet his Vitiligo was becoming more and more visible, the changes in his skin tone more and more obvious. Yet Michael, ever the perfectionist, didn't want to disappoint his audience. Eventually there was no choice but to reveal his condition.

Would we have called the cancer patient a liar? Would we have condemned her for seeking treatment for a life threatening illness? Michael deserved our compassion, not ridicule. Where was the understanding for this man who was dealing with an illness that threatened his very life as he knew it and as we knew it? Where was the the message: “you are still beloved?” Still relevant? Still human? Still the Michael we have grown to expect, to love? The Michael that we have made larger than life? The one we expect to dazzle us? The one we expect to be perfect in our eyes? Where was our humanness? Our compassion?

National Vitiligo Foundation: http://nvfi.org/index.php

Michael and the Drum- A Dialogue

2010-01-26T10:19:00.018-06:00

D: “Your eyes sparkled tonight.”
B: “Really?”
D: “Yeah, in fact you kind of sparkled. And you had that look.”
B: “What look?”
D: “Well, it’s not just your eyes that sparkled. You kind of sparkled. Like you just came from a spa or something.”
B: “Interesting choice of words-- Sparkle.”
D: “So what’s going on? Are you in love again or something? What secret have you been keeping from me?”
B: “No, not ‘in love’—more like ‘Love in;’ I had just come from a love in. I was hanging out with Sparkles—Sparkle people. And John Lennon. I suppose you could call it a spa—a Sparkle bath. Bathed in L-O-V-E.
D: “Ok, now you got me. You’d better spill it Cheyenne Sister!”
B: “Yeah OK, Oneida ‘Princess!’ I know, never turn your back on an Indian! Well, before I came to circle tonight I went to a ‘love in.’ It’s a worldwide love meditation held by Michael’s Sparkle people. See, in one of Michael’s songs he talks about creating a “Major Love” around the planet. It’s a reference to the spiritual planetary wave. And a fan has created a space to do the meditation every month on the 25th day. She sent an invitation and the link. People all over the world focus on love and sending out love to the world.”
D: “And they get together every month? Because of Michael? Amazing. Wow; so how was it?”
B: “Brings you to your knees. I was sobbing. I felt it; I felt the love. It was like being in the John Lennon vibe again. I just cried and cried. This is ‘good medicine’ they do.”
D: “Aho! No wonder you looked radiant. You know, during the circle- I looked over at you and you were gone. You were rockin' it, sister. I have no idea where you were, but you weren’t here.”
B: “I know. I travel. And did you feel the Haiti thing? I just set an intention for Haiti. For healing. And when I started with the rain stick, I had no idea where it would go. But the circle started the syncopation right away. How cool was that? And who was echoing the chant with me—that was haunting. It had to be B, right? She knows how to get between the harmonies. She’s intuitive that way. I couldn’t open my eyes. I was afraid I would lose the vision—I could see them; I could see the Haitians. I could see them healing; healed. Talk about major love.”
D: “I know that one was awesome. The whole circle was feeling it. And the Elders were there—did you hear them?”
B: “You know, I did hear a kind of drone in the background. You think it was the Elders? I thought it was overtones. They were all around us. That sanctuary amplifies everything; the acoustics are stunning in that space.”
D: “Oh the Elders were there. They were standing around the circle. We called and they came.”
B: “Ok, I got goose bumps now. What an amazing day. Thank you for arranging the circle."
D: "I am so happy to do it. I love it. I thought about Michael too in tonight's circle. You think he was here?”
B: “Oh yeah. I think Michael definitely was hanging out in a few places tonight. I don’t think Michael ever had the chance to go to a drum circle.”
D: “It’s really sad, isn’t it—how he never had a normal life. How he never got to just hang out with ordinary people? You think he would have liked jamming in drum circle?”
B: “Are you kidding? Well, he certainly would have understood the voice of the drum, the spirit of the drum and the drumming. How drums speak to you. How sometimes they tell you what they want to play, want to say. He would have understood the prayers in the drum, in the spirit. And Spirit. Michael would have felt the Elders. Felt Creator.”
D: “Yes; I was just thinking about his Black and White video. I know what it meant to me when I first saw it. I think Michael would have loved Pow Wow too. He would have danced, would have fit right in.”
B: “Well he sort of got a feel for it tonight.”
D: “You think he was there?”
B: “I think Michael loved it.”
D: “Could you see Michael sitting in circle? Imagine smudging Michael Jackson and his drum in circle!”
B: “Did you just say… ‘Imagine?’ There’s John again.”
D: “Oh, now I have goose bumps.”
B: “Maybe we should intentionally invite Michael next time. We could give him his own chair. We could smudge him. Leave a drum there for him. What do you think?”

D: "Oh my God, would that be an awesome experience. That's great. I love it! Good medicine."
B: “May we invite John too?”
D: “Oh yes! Of course! Wouldn’t that just be a major love in!”
B: “Maybe we could ask for healing from Spirit. And for healing the shadow. And for Major L-O-V-E”
D: “We could intentionally drum with Michael for Michael.”
B: “A love-in with drums! Stellar idea!”
D: “I think we should do it! Let’s!”
B: "Whoa, what was that?"
D: "I don't know; it sounded like a drum. Can't be. Everybody's gone."
B: "Maybe not everybody."
D: “Wow, did you feel that? That was strange. What do you think that was?”
B: “I think Michael loves the idea.”

http://www.majorloveprayer.org/

Michael and the Soul- a shapeshifter

2010-01-23T12:17:00.005-06:00

Shamans live and work in more than one dimension. Shamans keep one foot in both worlds—the mundane world of everyday life and the world of non-ordinary-reality. The outer planes and the inner planes hold different realities but they echo in many ways. “As above so below” can describe that interplay as well as the interplay of the microcosm with the macrocosm. For all our evolution, it is still a world of duality.

The human soul holds the dichotomy and dualities in perfect balance. It is not exclusionary. It does not favor holding one manifestation superior to another; it does not choose; rather than the either/or of the dualistic world, it holds both/and in harmony. It is whole, holistic—a kind of hologram that includes the blueprint of the Divine—the original impulse of creation. It is a thing of great beauty. The human who engages the soul in the work or has a soul-infused personality is that same reflected “thing of beauty.” Some people just are beautiful, their beauty almost ethereal. Michael was intimate with this beauty.

Both Michael himself and certainly his work, seems to embody or hold in balance the essential soul qualities. One reader put it this way: “I've thought that Michael has been an amazing reflection of the soul which is both yet neither aspects of our Universe's duality: male and female in appearance and voice; black and white; sexuality and non-sexuality; threatening and non-threatening; identified with a country and culture yet global; child yet adult; the essence of innocence yet accused of the unthinkable.” [paraphrased-edited]

I’ve been looking for an answer to this contradiction that was Michael Jackson and have come to the conclusion that Michael truly was/is the ultimate soul mirror. How and why this is the case is still a bit mysterious but its unfolding continues. Michael reflects everything about the human condition and seems to do it on many levels, in many dimensions, many languages, and in mythological and mystical terms. Michael is alchemical. Michael is a shape-shifter. Michael is a shaman.

There is the sexy or naughty Michael juxtaposed with the wholesome and innocent Michael:
There are the leather and buckles that seem dark, brooding, sensual and Bad; there are the white shirts and suits that are the color of purity and innocence. There is the bad-boy and the darling. There is the Michael who spanks his singing partner while she’s freeze-frame in dance, and the Michael who cradles female fans in a tender and intimate embrace. There is the dangerous male dancer with the grinding movements that can mimic the sex act and depict the rise of Kundalini spiritual energy at the same time. There is the crotch grabbing Michael who seems to gesture a need to hold in the creativity in the place it is birthed so that it doesn’t leak out from his being; and the Michael that assumes spiritual poses like supplication and crucifixion.

There is the black and white Michael:
There is the white skinned yet black African American. Obviously African American in Thriller, Michael begins to show symptoms of Vitiligo sometime after that music video is made. The Vitiligo gave him large areas of pasty white skin from de-pigmentation, the hallmark of the disease. Once gone, the pigment never returns and eventually more white than black, Michael submitted to the recommended and subscribed treatments of lasers and cream to even his skin tones. Michael begins to look more like a Caucasian by the time he makes “Black or White” where he dances with people from a variety of racial, ethnic and cultural backgrounds. Toward the end of his life, Michael begins to appear Albino- someone with no pigmentation at all, no discernable race or ethnicity. In the light spectrum we know that white contains all colors. Was Michael himself truly a man for all seasons? Was he a visible example of a human without race, without color or with all colors, all races?

There is the man-child who is Michael.
Michael, in childhood, was a sophisticated performer from the moment he took the stage. Dick Clark remembers Michael’s savvy well and thought of him as a middle aged man in a child’s body. As Dick began to introduce and interview the Jackson 5, Michael took the microphone from him introducing his brothers himself. Dick knew then that this was a child destined for greatness.

Michael was always soft-spoken with a quiet voice yet it is reported that he was a consummate manager who knew how to motivate his staff with few words. His business acumen is legendary; his skill as a manager and leader was respected. Michael was a perfectionist who demanded his own excellence and recruited excellence in others simply with simple expectation or encouragement.

Yet Michael loved the “elementary things” that he talked about in Have You Seen my Childhood? Neverland Ranch, before defiled by accusations and invasion, was a sanctuary and magical place that nourished the child in everyone who visited. Michael hosted many guests there: children, adults and families. Gregory Peck found it rejuvenating; McCauley Culkin found it exhilarating and Elizabeth Taylor thought it enchanting. Michael had a special tree that he liked to climb where he became inspired, writing many of his lyrics cradled in its boughs. What adult among us has not longed to climb trees to find safe haven again? Neverland featured a magical theme park atmosphere with movie theatre with candy and snacks, a train, golf carts and a zoo filled with all kinds of animals. All visitors were expected to participate in water fights. Although adept with a Super Soaker water gun, Michael’s preferred ammunition was water balloons. Football was another favorite especially of Shawn Lennon, John Lennon’s son who visited and stayed often.

Michael’s home featured life size figures and sculptures of real characters and the characters of legends. A life-size cookie butler held a tray of Neverland’s legendary chocolate chip cookies. Dolls, knights, angels, cherubs, children, animals and fantasy characters graced the halls and grounds of the mansion. Neverland was built partly for Michael himself to recapture the childhood lost at the hand of a stern taskmaster father determined to catapult his musical family to fame and fortune. Michael loved Disneyland but could not go out in public without being mobbed. He built a scaled down model of his own Disneyland behind the gates of his estate. But Neverland was also a place for hosting children who might never otherwise visit such a place or who were sick, many whom expressed a dying wish to meet Michael and visit Neverland. Thousands of children romped at Neverland—Michael’s way of gifting them Disneyland style. Inner city youth, kids coping with cancer and other diseases, at risk children, reform school incarcerates, disadvantaged children, handicapped and special needs kids all were welcomed to Neverland. Far from the predator some painted him to be, Michael was a father to all those children. Michel knew as Hillary Clinton did, that it takes a village. A global village.

Contrast that Michael with the polished performer, the star quality stage presence, the adult themes in lyrics and certain songs, some sensual costuming and the appealing adult male persona. People wondered how this man could embody both the child-man and polished star who commanded the stage and the audience. A shy person in public, Michael shape-shifted the moment he hit the stage. He was comfortable only while performing, felt safe only on stage; he didn’t like interviews or conversations. He preferred to let his music and art speak for him. Michael Jackson was literally hiding in plain sight.

Many wondered who was this man… really? Most people had never seen anything like him and struggled to define and to understand. Michael was a visible example of the melding of the duality. An embodiment of the duality itself, he was the personification of an interplay of opposites, puzzles and contradictions.

The angry Michael and the tender Michael.
At times when he is performing, Michael appears to set his jaw and looks angry. More than once he has been labeled with the cliché` description “angry young man.” Michael found the injustices of the world painful and once he identified them, he would often take them on in lyrics. He was especially sensitive to the exploitation and destruction of the planet for profit.

A sensitive senses the magnitude of the emotion. An empath feels the collective of those things. Empaths feel the onslaughts and assaults that affect the world, that impact humanity. There are those people who feel the world’s collective pain, humanity’s collective pain. Michael was one of them.

Michael’s body itself was an instrument of the music, the song, the performance. His body was like the flute through which inspiration blows—a portal thorough which to enter into existence and birth itself in the world. Michael was gifted and he always said his gift was God-given. If God was the author; Michael was the book. If God was the composer; Michael was the score. In Michael’s very first album he talks about the Force, a reference to the Force from Star Wars- the same Force that animates the Universe. He says about the Force: “don’t stop ‘till you get enough.” For Michael, that Force was always more than enough. Instead of the wind that blows through the flute to express the music, the wind that blew through Michael was gale force. And it was that kind of sustained force with everything he did. Michael’s Force was forever amplified.

That kind of force in creativity can appear angry because its’ power is so unexpected, so awe producing. A river can have pools, ripples, rapids and waterfalls—it’s the same water but different intensities. And always the source is the river. The power of the river cannot be stopped. When you are in the river, you are going where the river takes you. There is no way to swim against the current; resistance, as they say, is futile. When in that kind of swift force, there is no way to reach shore; there is only the careening downstream. Better to peer ahead for the next passage and perhaps obstacles than to fight a current that can’t be stopped. There is no way to get out of the way of the river; the only thing to do is get self out of the way, and go where the river takes you. You are going anyway.

When white knuckles and white water takes you, it’s good to know the source of that force. Hopefully it’s the river of life and not destruction. Hopefully it’s the River Jordan that cradles you and sweeps you along and not the River Styx.

The Masculine and Feminine Michael:
While often appearing androgynous and embodying traits of both the masculine and feminine, there were times when Michael was blatantly masculine in his features and presentation. His maleness oozed at times and at others it was quietly understated in the background. His interpretations of a Bad gang member and Smooth Criminal highlights a more hard driving maleness of the characters while the Egyptian magician in Remember the Time and the Greco-Roman androgynous youth in You are Not Alone are more feminine interpretations of the male we see despite his ministrations to women in both films.

Michael wore makeup, lipstick and eyelashes which today are accepted as part of the trappings of “show biz” but at his popularity peak, some thought it evidence of his being “gay” which was a much more highly charged issue then. It’s no longer considered too feminine or a product of “gayness” and is more widely accepted as “art.” Everybody tries to find their “shtick” that will stick. Celebrities must necessarily re-invent themselves to stay contemporary and relevant. Michael knew how to be not only relevant and contemporary but endearing, daring and enduring.

The Dangerous Michael and the Innocent Michael:
In Thriller, Michael morphs into a werewolf and threatens his partner. In Ghost he loses his human flesh and becomes a wraith bringing death into the conversation. In Smooth Criminal he is a mafia-type who dispatches his enemies with a machine gun. In Rock My World he is the slick male womanizer and seducer. In Come Together Michael is the vinyl clad sexy and dangerous Rock Star you don’t want your daughter around. Have You Seen My Childhood finds Michael sitting alone in the forest dreaming of holding onto his inner child. He looks every bit the child uncomfortable with the world adults have created. The boyish charm of Michael in the Greco-Roman setting of You are Not Alone with his wife Lisa Marie Presley, speaks of charming youth and budding love. In Will You be There Michael is the human asking for Divine companionship through the trials of life and the stumbling of the man and mankind. At one point in the dance, Michael is lifted by the dancers—is this gesture about the resurrection of the soul?

The Showman Michael and the Waif:
Michael Jackson was a student of P.T. Barnum and he understood the value of surprise, juxtaposition and startling your audience with the unexpected. He also understood the value of creating anticipation. Michael deliberately placed subliminals and startling images in his work. He knew how to raise eyebrows, get attention and then deliver the message. The impact and unforgetability of the outrageous was not lost on Michael. He caused both murmuring and loud outcry. He knew how to tease and “simmer” before delivering the sizzle. Some called that genius. He also had the appeal of the lost and alone little boy. The one mothers wanted to adopt and women wanted to hold. That is the waif who becomes the forbidden secret lover in the heart. The cynical might think that manipulation; the worldly would call it savvy and showmanship but the majority of women would call that endearing and appealing.

The Human Michael and the Spiritual Messenger:
Michael speaks of human failings in his work—those of himself and those of humanity. In Will You Be There he says that a man is expected to stand and walk even when not able; his is expected to find inner strength in the face of whatever trial or tribulation befalls him. In anguish Michael cries “But I’m only human!”

Michael’s lyrics throughout, talk about human feelings. These feelings always appear in relationship—with a love interest, with the Divine, with the Earth, with humanity. It is all relational, all relationship-speak.

Many of Michael’s songs and the body of his work is prayer, a global plea to humanity to make the world better, to care for the children, to save their planet, their future. This Spiritual Messenger who is Michael has a message… sometimes loud, sometimes subtle, sometimes subliminal. He knows how to grab attention, makes sure everybody is watching; then he creates the tension of anticipation ("you have to let it simmer!") and WHAM! The message is delivered.

Michael says in his work “seems like the world has a role for me.” Michael knew. And he knew that he knew. And he knew that somehow we knew. We did and we do.

(c) B. Kaufmann 2010 and beyond

Dancing the Moon

2010-01-18T13:43:00.014-06:00

Michael Jackson had a special relationship with the moon. In his book: Dancing the Dream, he tells of his conversations with the moon:

"I cannot escape the moon. Its soft beams push aside the curtains at night. I don’t even have to see it—a cool blue energy falls across my bed and I am up. I race down the dark hall and swing open the door. Not to leave home but to go back to it. ‘Moon, I’m here!’ I shout.

“Good,” she replies. Now give us a little dance.”

Michael’s signature dance: the moonwalk. The moon is a symbol of the Divine feminine, of watery mysteries, mysticism and alchemy. The moon has heard many conversations, been part of many rituals, lighted many ceremonial evenings, listened to many prayers and a holds wisdom, knowledge and magic for indigenous peoples of many origins, many cultures. There are many ancient moonwalkers.

Michael wanted to visit the moon in his lifetime.NASA was contacted and Edgar Mitchell was excited about the possibility of the terrestrial world's known moonwalker someday visiting the moon. He was able to see it happening for Michael and that it would be only a matter of time.

Edgar Mitchell, while in space during a moon mission had his own extraordinary mystical experience and came back to found the Institute of Noetic Science which to this day, is a cutting edge research avenue into man’s relationship with the cosmos. NASA thought Michael might make it to the moon sooner than anyone could imagine.

Michael loved space, the moon, stars, the cosmos and NASA. At the end of his concerts during his “Dangerous” tour, he became his dream-- an astronaut complete with suit, gear and helmet.

A fan reported, though not confirmed by family, that Michael was interred in September just as the moon went into its full phase. She says the interment was Thursday September 3, 2009 at 9:43 Pacific time. She contacted her planetarium to find out if her suspicions were confirmed. The report: On September 3, 2009 at 9:L43 pm the moon was 99.76% full at 28 degrees in the southeast. It rose at 7:02 pm PDT and will set at 6:44am on the 4th. She believes Michael’s family did something special for Michael. Michael was born when the moon was full. His funeral occurred during full moon and it appears he was interred with the moon when full. It's a lovely thought for the one constant mistress and love of his life was the moon.

He was interred in a section called the Sanctuary of Ascension in Holly Terrace at the Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Los Angeles… city of angels.

About dancing in moonlight, Michael says “This is my favorite dance, because it contains a secret. The faster I twirl, the more I am still inside. My dance is all motion without, all silence within. As much as I love to make music, it’s the unheard music that never dies. And silence is my real dance, thought it never moves. It stands aside, my choreographer of grace, and blesses each finger and toe.

“I have forgotten the moon now and the sea and the dolphins, but I am in their joy more than ever. As far away as a star, as near as a grain of sand, the presence rises, shimmering with light. I could be in it forever, it is so loving and warm. But touch it once, and light shoots forth from the stillness. It quivers and thrills me and I know my fate is to show others that this silence, this light, this blessing is my dance. I take this gift only to give it again.

Quick, give! Says the light.”
(c) 1992 Dancing the Dream, Michael Jackson

Breakfast with Hope: A Dialogue

Waitress Jill: "Here's your coffee; now how would you like those eggs?
B: "Moon side up."
Jill: "Pardon me?"
B: "Just kidding. Sunny side up."
S: Thank you, the same for me."

B: “It’s been a long time.”
S: “Way too long.”
B: “I miss doing dream circle; how many years was it we dreamed together?"
S: “Me too; we should do a Dream Reunion with the group.”
B: “Well, that’s kind of why I called you.”
S: “Ok, so what’s on your mind?”
B: “Well, I know you will understand this. And as a psychologist you know I respect your opinion. Besides, I trust you; I’ve wandered around in your dreams.”
S: “I remember; you always had such deep dreams; so much meaning. Sometimes I wondered where you were hanging out at night!”
B: ‘Yeah, well then this dreamscape should come as no shock to you…”
(More conversation)

S: ‘Wow, this work sounds really, really important."
B: "Oh, that’s not all. The people who come—the admirers, the fans, those new to Michael, those revisiting his work, those who felt something after his death, those who are curious… they are all having an awakening. Or they are reminded of their knowing. And they are all living Michael’s message in some way.”
S: "Are you saying it’s some kind of collective phenomenon?"
B: "That’s exactly what I am saying. It’s happening all over the world. All kinds of people.”
S: “So you think all these people are tapped into something in the collective unconscious?”
B: “I know they are. But it’s not all unconscious. The levels of knowledge and understanding are different. Some know the mission in the message; some sense something but feel confused. Most are still very tender and raw with grieving and from processing shadow.”
S: “But they are all having this similar experience; like a collective dream?”
B: “Precisely- a collective dream. What I want to know is if you guys have a name for this. Have you heard of this kind of experience before? Has someone done studies, some cutting edge research, maybe a dissertation?”
S: “Oh my; I have a friend who is a Jungian Psychologist; I remember her saying that she had some kind of epiphany and was really curious about Michael Jackson and his work…”
(More conversation)

B: “So, you get the picture here? You get the magnitude?”
S: “I have to tell you that you have just given me more hope than I have encountered anywhere from anyone in… well, I can’t remember! And you understand what this means for them, for you, for the future, for the world?”
B: “Oh yes; I completely understand the potential and the vector of this experience. I get glimpses of where it’s going, where we are all going. I get hints and nudges and sometimes I get launched. Occasionally lurched... forward. It fits with what I already know, my exploration and the path my life has taken, the ministry and work. It is the message. It is the alchemy.”
S: “This is so exciting! These people are already in that frequency! They get it about infusing love into the collective! I always saw him as a kind of tragic figure. Well, this has really changed my mind. I am intrigued. I'm glad you called, glad you told me. I had no idea the genius of the man!"
B: “The genius of him and whom he recruited! They are all living the message, dreaming the collective dream.” You know the archetypal message: mythic tragic hero, the king, Camelot, the chalice and the sword, the treasure in the holy grail..."
S: “So… the work in the dream circle…”
B: “Oh that was only the beginning. Oh sweet sleep perchance to dream! Wait till you see the movie! Starring Earth! Dream in the flesh… and it shimmers. Sheer illumination. Bio luminescence! Divine Sparkle!”
S: “Wow; I have to tell you something… my body feels lighter all of a sudden. I leave here with more hope than I think I have ever felt before. I feel a little like dancing.”
B: “Hmmmm. Wonder where you got that impulse?”
S: “Wow, chills. I leave here with hope! Gosh, there is hope! Let me know… So, we’d better get to the service; we’re going to be late if we don’t get going.”
B: “Yeah, OK. Who’s doing the sermon? What is the sermon today?”
S: “D’s doing it; and it’s about ‘The Power of Quan Yin.”
B: “Whoa, are you serious? Quan Yin?”
S: “Well, yes. Why?”
B: “Well, I just told you that I did a huge thing dancing with shadow. And then an invitation to a ‘shifting the shadow’ thing. And we did it on the new moon within the solar eclipse.”
S: “And… the sermon…”
B: “Quan Yin is the mother goddess of compassion. She is depicted in many ways… one is the dragon; she can be fiercely compassionate. She can also be divine mother and nurturer. The legend goes… she practiced spiritually until she reached the stage of enlightenment where the next step is Nirvana. She was poised to step away from the world and into the light of the cosmos when she heard the cries of human beings still suffering in shadow. She had great compassion for their pain, their woundedness, their intense suffering. Instead of going on to Nirvana, she turned around and stepped back into the world. She decided to go back and stay, lending her energy until everyone here reaches enlightenment and is ready to step into Heaven or Nirvana. Quan Yin is linked to the moon—she’s considered the goddess of the New Moon.”
S: “Wow such Divine synchronicity!”
B: “Yes, and a little dance from another moonwalker.”

Hanging out with Michael Jackson

2010-01-16T13:50:00.000-06:00

My research into the life and body of work of Michael Jackson began after something in me stirred in the theater...

This has been quite the journey! My writings have been shared with fans worldwide and I have been receiving the most incredible thoughtful and heart-centered letters from people all over this globe. Michael touched people in a very deep and profound way that few ever have. There are millions of people in our world who live in their heartspace and know how to love because of Michael and Michael's messages to the world. I call them MJ's "Sparkle People" because they shimmer like his Billie Jean jacket. In this space now and for the future, I share my remarkable journey of hanging out with Michael Jackson.

A Glance in the Mirror

2010-01-16T13:29:00.005-06:00

I swear you can’t make this stuff up. Occasionally I still take private duty nursing clients: children who are dependent on ventilators that assist them with breathing. They attend school on portable vents and need to wear what we call an HME or Humidivent that moisturizes and warms the air before it enters their trachs (tracheostomy.) The non-medical name for an HME is an “artificial nose.” The kids don’t like them much and often take them off; getting them to wear their noses becomes a game between kids and their nurses. It’s how they keep us in line.

Yesterday at school, one of the teachers started talking about how another nurse on the case had “changed the nose and put a new one on just yesterday.” One Teacher’s Aid commented how at first she thought that “artificial nose” referred to some kind of cosmetic surgery.

So one teacher looks at the other and says about my client: “Maybe we should start calling him Michael Jackson because they keep changing his nose and putting on a new one. It keeps coming off; he keeps losing it... (laughter).

The Occupational Therapist chimes in: “Oh well maybe his nose fell off because of that disease that he had… (wink, wink) the one that changed his color too... (more laughter.)

You can only imagine where the conversation went from there. And you can imagine where my mind went from there. And my temperature. Where… I… went from there. I could feel my Inner Michael…

I was surprised at the level of anger I heard in my voice when I had heard enough: “You know, Vitiligo is a real disease and it does make skin pasty white. .. please, the man is dead!” and that is as far as I got. I must have turned white myself with anger. One look at me and the room went silent.

It took me a long time to breathe myself back down the adrenalin slope but it didn’t take long to realize how I had mishandled that situation. I had a perfectly good opportunity to be calm, to state the facts about Vitiligo and Michael Jackson but instead I let my shadow off-leash to run loose. To growl. My shadow, under her breath, called them “ignorant” and thought them “moronic.”

I immediately regretted not having rehearsed a little speech for just such an occasion. If It comes up again, I promise you I will have one ready. Why? Because the moment that was teachable (pun intentional) called for response, not a reaction. And now it is forever lost. Instead of making them feel uncomfortable and myself seem aloof and superior, I could have educated them in a kind way and turned a shadow situation into enlightenment for everybody.

Yes, I was raw and tender having spent so much time already wandering around in the dark with Michael and I admit it wouldn’t have taken much to push me over the edge, but instead of making the world brighter, I added more shadow.

The one thing you learn as a peace activist is that when you are standing on a corner holding a sign, the last thing you or anyone in your group should ever do is engage in a verbal war with a person from the opposing side. The training preparation involves learning how to not be pulled into an argument and to listen, really listen to your opposition. (“No one wants to be defeated.”) And the other thing that is really savvy is to prepare in advance answers to the questions you are likely to be asked. Then if a reporter comes up and sticks a mic under your mouth, you have something coherent and intelligent to say.Yesterday I was neither. I should have known better.

It was painful because there were children in the room. I was not being a very good role model. I wasn’t prepared. I wasn’t thoughtful or warm or prepared to go toe-to-toe in a civilized way. We all might have learned something important had I taken a breath first and handled it differently. ‘I’m sorry Michael; it won’t happen again. Promise.’

Gotta Love the Dreamers- the Dialogue

2010-01-14T22:23:00.022-06:00

J: “Just how is it assisting Michael Jackson for you to suffer so?”
B: “I don’t see it as assisting Michael Jackson. It’s not Michael who will benefit; not any longer. I think all suffering is relevant. It is relevant for all of us. We still seem to need to learn from fear, suffering and pain. I hope we fill up on that one soon. I look forward to when we can learn from joy, from love. That is where I want to be and I hope I can see some of it happening before the end of my lifetime.”
J: “I have watched you through this. I see the pain. I hear it in your voice. I’ve watched the tears come and not stop. I’ve seen the overwhelm.”
B: “And I thank you for being there. Sometimes it really gets to me; how can it not? That much shadow heaped upon one person! Relentless! Wham. Slam. And such a gentle and generous man! Do you know that he personally supported something like 33 charities, most for children? His humanitarian awards are legion. It's just so very, very dense, this shadow. If I find it hard to keep going through just the research, think what he must have endured. I don’t know how he stayed vertical! As for the overwhelm, it’s part of the deal you make. Unless you’re an artist, it’s hard to explain and harder yet to understand. But I think that it comes with the territory of the muse. You’ve read my “A Poet Tries to Write 9/11” and "Missile Silo in North Dakota- that one took five years." The pain was like jumping into a bottomless void, a black hole. It was huge. It was hard to survive it. Hard to breathe. The thing about the muse, especially one who is a poet, too, is that we have to feel it. We can’t do it without feeling it.”
J: “To feel it like that? Is there is no way to buffer it? You have a survival plan? Tell me your plan. How will you do this?”
B” “Well, doesn't matter; there really is no saying ‘no.’ It’s like the Hound of Heaven, it’s going to get you; you might run for awhile, but it’s going to catch you. Better just not to run. Here is how it is… In order to write whatever it is, the poet or muse must take it all into her body, must let it live there. Let it settle in. It is like body surfing; the wave comes and washes over you and you are tumbled by the sea of feeling. There is nothing to be done but to let it have its way with you. You can’t stop the torrent; you can’t stem that kind of tide. It has to take your breath away and leave you in darkness, in a deep watery grave place. Then only from there, can it vomit itself back out and spill onto paper. There is just no other way to do it. At least not for me. And not for most artists.”
J: “I worry about you… being an empath.”
B: “Yeah. Blessing and curse. I can’t help it. It’s always been that way for me. That was really useful when I was doing group therapy because I knew what people were feeling; it echoed in my body. At times it's an advantage except when it's not. I know it and feel it all at once; it gets in my bones. I think that is why I empathize and understand Michael so much. I get how he worked; I feel what he felt. I am having a really hard time right now because I’ve spent the last weeks in shadow because that was what I was writing. I can’t believe the world treated him the way it did. I can’t believe it would treat anyone that way! The sheer meanness of it! The dark was cavernous. The digging for dirt and making up stories was like relentless gleeful grave-digging. The attacks to his appearance, his skin color, his very beingness. Who else could he be? Who else could any of us be? It's one thing if people don't like you for what you are doing; but when they don't like you for who you are, well, what exactly can you do to fix that? Change your face? Yeah, maybe. We would never treat any child that way and Michael was a child of God just like the rest of us. He was a child of the world. And child-like. So sensitive. Such an easy target.”
J: “You know how it works… the brighter the light, the more the shadow.”
B: “But why? I have a hard time accepting that. Sometimes it's just mean. It doesn’t have to be that way. I believe the human race is better than that. It just breaks my heart. Not because it’s Michael Jackson, but because the world could do that to someone! To anyone. It’s hard to fathom. It’s hard to come face to face with that kind of darkness. That cynnicism. It’s hard to feel its power in the world.”
J: “That’s my point. How is being in the midst of all that agony helping you? Helping him?”
B: “You know, I am not sure that it can be done any other way. I think the suffering is part of taking on my piece of the shadow. Maybe it’s the one piece that I can take from the collective and let it percolate through me. Maybe my tears can cleanse it. Maybe I can transform it by letting it break my heart. By letting it season me, make me softer. Maybe when it wrings me out, I can breathe the clarity and the light back into the world. Maybe that is all I can do for Michael.”
J: “So you think that we shrink the collective shadow through processing it within ourselves?”
B: “Something like that. I do think so. The shadow leaves its imprint. It is in the field, in the space. It lingers and spreads around the planet. It makes for thick emotional sludge. It’s not nice to live in. I want my space and my world compassionate, clean, loving, embracing all people, making miracles. Michael took on the world’s shadow for me. It’s the least I can do for him.”
J: “You know the Buddhist way is to accept the play of light and shadow. Michael seems to have attracted a large volume of shadow. He had to hold a lot of light and visibility to attract that much shadow. People are attracted to that kind of light- for all kinds of reasons.”
B: “You would have me do nothing? It’s not in me. That is too passive for me. I came to change the world. So did Michael; he just had a much bigger presence, a much bigger platform—the whole world the stage.”
J: “But when someone is a larger than life public figure and they deliberately promote themselves in order to gain attention and to communicate the message, they have to be willing to take the shadow aspect that comes with it. They are going to draw shadow, be scrutinized, criticized and attacked. The shadow is going to show up. It’s human nature and it’s just the way it works. Tich Nat Hahn talks about that, about the balance and the wise mind...”
B: Are you trying to tell me that wise mind is just passively accepting what is? So I should just embrace the world the way it is? I should put out the fire? Cover my light? You’re a Buddhist. And I love the path. I took a vow of non-violence with His Holiness the Dalia Lama. He said to take the path of non-violence. He told the monks not to act out anger but he never said to do nothing. That’s not an active principle. That doesn’t make the world better. It might make it peaceful and make you more peaceful but it doesn’t do much for the rest of humanity. I can’t do it that way. We, as a collective race of humans aren’t doing some things right. We create things that destroy. Like the chem-weapons, for example. Are you saying that I should not have gotten involved because there was potential for pain, for personal suffering? You know, if those things that are stockpiled are ever unleashed, we'll never have to worry about the world’s shadow again because there won’t be a world to cast one.”
J: "And you visited suffering then too."
B: "Of course; it's scary. You get up close and personal with the darkest of human nature. The sheer magnitude will stagger anyone. Two canisters the size of wine bottles would turn the Super Bowl into a morgue. And, yes, there were some who would have sabotaged the program because their ego got bruised. That's shadow too. Someone didn't want to play nice or share and liked the conrol lever too much. Forget to leave your ego at the door and shadow sneaks in. Sometimes people don't see the bigger picture. After my column appeared someone wrote and asked why I didn't spend my time and energy volunteering in my own country, my own community? I responded as kindly as I could that I did do some volunteer work in my own backyard. But I also said that if we didn't do something about the WMDs cooperatively in Russia and here, and we destroyed the world by war-making and stockpiling weapons that could kill the whole planet many times over, that my backyard wasn't going to matter much. Sometimes you have to point out that there's a bigger picture."
J: “But why you? Why suffer in this way? You understand that this is the martyr archetype.”
B: “Yes, I get that. Maybe I was Joan in another lifetime. Why not me? I guess I’m still a Flower Child and I still believe in humanity. And I believe that if I’m not part of the solution, I am part of the problem. I know in my heart it can be better. We are capable of it. You saw what happened with the Tsunami in Indonesia, how the whole world rallied, how they are doing it now with the earthquake in Haiti. How is it that we humans can do that—rise to that level of brilliance and compassion in a crisis but one smallish man who started with nothing but a talent that wouldn’t be contained, who only wanted to make music is destroyed by human inhumanity. It was terrorism. Homeland terrorism.”
J: “You can’t mean that; I think that is overwhelm talking.”
B: “I do mean it. I absolutely mean it. What is the difference between planning to bring a country to its knees and trying to bring one man to his knees? Only the population numbers change. They’re both blood sport. Only the scale is different. You can’t be a little bit pregnant; how can you be a little bit terrorist? Terrorism is terrorism whatever the scale. You can be a terrorist in traffic and you can traffic terrorism. I’m filled up on it. Aren’t you? It’s time to change the paradigm. People really don’t want to do this anymore. Lots of traditional structures are falling—the church, Wall Street, the banking system. We don’t want to do it this way any longer. We just haven’t figured out how to build the new structure and we don’t have a clear blueprint yet. But we can’t continue this way. The old ways are not working. We can’t keep destroying our planetary treasures like John Lennon, Lady Diana and Michael. God help us if Bono ever falls from grace.
J: “But people expect certain standards and they will always look to those in the limelight. They will always project shadow on celebrity.
B: “No! Celebrities don’t have to be targets of our jealousy, our judgment, our darkest selves. It is not their job to carry our inadequacies for us! It is not our right to ask or question their private lives, pry into their sexuality and demand secrets from them. We don’t have the right to stalk them in dark and devious ways to take something that doesn’t belong to us. It’s nothing less than assault! Especially those who are artists and entertainers— they have and are gifts that should be respected and cherished.
J: “But they are in the public eye. People in the public eye have an obligation… “
B: “That might be true if we elect them. Entertainers and artists don’t work for us. We don’t pay them to represent us. It’s real arrogance to think they are accountable to us or to demand their lives for our own amusement or plunder.”
J: “But there are certain standards that the world expects…”
B: “And I am telling you that it is the world that is wrong! We are wrong. The standards need to change! We have lost something! We have forgotten something essential! We have become walking shells of human beings—the innards are missing. The heart isn't there! We have made things dirty that are not. We are too willing to believe the worst about someone. We are too eager to fear. We have been conditioned to see the glass as half empty. We look for the dark instead of the light. We have lost our innocence! It’s not naïve to have the qualities of honesty and innocence; it’s refreshing. The nightly news does not highlight our human achievements but exposes our human failings. We don’t congratulate very well anymore. We don’t share well, play well with others. We run with scissors with the intention to cut people up. We take drugs to stop depression, to lift our mood, to slim down, to calm down, to sleep. We pay athletes obscene amounts of money while Nobel Prize winners write grants and beg for funding. We adopt companion animals and mistreat them; we slaughter other animals in dark and isolated places after the abysmal environments they are raised in only to display their by-products in sparkling plastic wrap in a sterile-like marketplace. We call those who work toward saving the planet “liberal tree huggers” and those who fight for human rights “bleeding hearts" as if they're epithets instead of something noble.” Something full and loving, compassionate and nourishing is missing. Something sparkling is gone. And I am telling you we are capable of so much better, of being so much more! We need to get some sparkle! We desperately need some sparkle.”
J: “You need some sparkle. Where are you going to get replenished when you’re this empty; when you’re this empty again?”
“I’m going to think about making a difference. I am going to think about Michael Jackson and remember what he endured for us and all the while he still loved the world; he never gave up on it! I am going to dream about the time when we, the world, will cherish those who are gifted among us and are gifts to us and we appreciate and embrace all—their wonder and their warts. When we put integrity above commerce and materialism. When we tell the truth because it’s the right thing to do. When we stop terrorizing and start tenderizing. That’s it! That’s what we should do!”
J: “what should we do?”
B: “Instead of a terrorist movement, we should start a ‘Tenderist Movement!’
J: “Wow, what an idea! You’re such a dreamer! Gotta love the dreamers!
B: “Yeah, and they love you more.”

Michael and Shadow

2010-01-09T21:03:00.035-06:00

"Shadow Bag" Scott Snibbe Interactive Art catalog

(c)2005

“If they say why, why? Tell them that is human nature. Why, why do they do me this way?” ~ © "Human Nature" Porcaro and Bettis performed by Michael Jackson, Thriller Album

Michael Jackson’s music indicates that he may have understood a lot about human nature. When asked questions about how people viewed him and characterized him, he said he supposed it was human nature and that it came with the territory of fame.

Shadow is the dark side of human nature that we’d all like to deny: Shadow is what causes us to do wrong and justify it; shadow is catering to the ego of self at the expense of others; shadow is treating someone differently by some obscure definition; shadow is being unscrupulous in how we make money; shadow is acquiring something of value on the backs of others; shadow is wanting or taking something that doesn’t rightfully belong to us. Greed, envy, malicious gossip, professional and personal jealousy, unexamined and untamed anger, false pride, conniving, scheming, retribution and a self that is out of integrity and acts from there, all come from human shadow. We all have shadow; we’d all rather not.

We have an idealized self that we aspire to and want to believe that we are. We never quite measure up to that ideal self. We idealize others and put them on pedestals and we are angry and condemning when they fall from grace. We mask in order to keep shadow from reflecting on us and we project it onto others to hide those undesirable qualities from ourselves. We will do cartwheels to keep ourselves from exposing, acknowledging or revealing the dark part of ourselves. We use unhealthy means to divert our attention from the darkness that lives within and we use up a lot of energy hiding.

When we accuse others, judge others, point fingers or call names, it is our own shadow that is at work. When they are obviously: “ignorant,” “stupid,” “immature,” “a loser” or any of the other judgments that condemn, that’s our shadow talking. Highlighting those characteristic in others is an attempt to deny them in ourselves.

“I’m starting with the man in the mirror; I’m asking him to change his ways. No message could have been any clearer: if you wanna make the world a better place, look at yourself then make a change.” © Sideah Garrett “Man in the Mirror” performed by Michael Jackson

Michael is asking us to begin healing our own shadow so that we don’t project it into the world and onto others. The “man in the mirror” is the individual shadow of shame and embarrassment. When denied or repressed, unhealed shadow springs up and brings us some form of punishment: failure, loss, isolation, misery, depression, relationship schisms, addictions, missed opportunities and other ways that we unconsciously punish or invite doom. Unexamined and unhealed shadow makes us feel unworthy or unlovable and that is what plays out in our lives.

There is another shadow that often goes unnamed and unexamined: the collective shadow of humanity or the vector of everyone’s shadow. This shadow inhabits the field and encapsulates everyone in it. It is the invisible dark soup that we live in but don’t see. It may express as cultural traits, a national pastime, a diversion, a meme, a preoccupation, a trend, an ism that lives in the collective sphere of influence. This collective shadow sometimes coalesces and is projected onto others in the form of: public disdain, an enemy or country conveniently become a target, a politician we love to hate, a celebrity whom we have placed on a pedestal who now has disappointed us, a public figure fallen from grace, a notorious criminal we can loathe, the political assassin who took a beloved from our camp forgetting there is another camp, an organization that is caught in scandal… and many others. We can heap our disowned shadow on the figures of situations conveniently convincing ourselves that “they” and not we are shadowy loathsome characters.

The target of shadow, deservedly or not, is something or someone we love to hate, ridicule, scoff at, be disgusted by, point fingers at, accuse, hold in contempt or shame, call uncivilized or barbaric, or any number of dark projections designed to aim more away from self than to cast onto someone else. We exact judgment, even unwarranted, and we look for evidence to support that judgment. We relish a scandal because it takes the heat off us.

We like to “bring down uppity women;” we delight in ”making them eat crow; "taking him to task;" "watching them sweat'” "holding her feet to the fire;" "cutting him down to size." and any number of ways that we mentally even the score imagined as unbalanced in our own minds. Shadow delights in this gladiator sport.

Shadow keeps criminals in business, corporations hiding mistakes, critical recall information secret, car manufacturers from reporting safety risks, drug companies from exposing side effects, tire manufacturers from revealing flaws, organizations fudging reports, companies from revealing hazards, environmental problems from being rectified voluntarily, and people from saying “I was so very wrong!”

Visible collective shadow keeps yellow journalism alive, and keeps tabloid press spewing vile and toxic sensationalism. Our shadow keeps questionable media in business. When not owned and projected onto others like groups, institutions, celebrities, politicians, shadow is hurtful, harmful and mean spirited. Shadow wounds. It wounds deeply and irreversibly. Shadow shows no mercy. Why? Because it wants to bleed its victim. It is blood sport. Yes, shadow kills.

Michael Jackson encountered a lot of shadow in his lifetime:

"Like the old Indian proverb says do not judge a man until you've walked two moons in his moccasins. Most people don't know me, that is why they write such things in which most is not true. I cry very, very often because it hurts and I worry about the children—all my children all over the world, I live for them.

If a man could say nothing against a character but what he can prove, history could not be written.

Animals strike, not from malice, but because they want to live, it is the same with those who criticize; they desire our blood, not our pain. But still I must achieve, I must seek truth in all things. I must endure for the power I was sent forth, for the world, for the children. But have mercy, for I've been bleeding a long time now." ~ Michael Jackson (circa 1995) written on hotel stationery.

Michael Jackson was one of the most visible, prolonged and known targets of collective shadow on this planet. Michael’s interest was in cheerleading humanity and teaching people that they could “make the world a better place” if they embraced bright shadow within themselves. Bright shadow, the opposite of dark shadow, is the inner being’s highest potential. It’s the Divine Blueprint. Michael embraced his own Bright Shadow whose outlet was his creativity.

Michael took on shadow and recruited others to come and shine instead alongside him. A humanitarian who truly believed that it was within humanity’s power to change the world, he kept on message throughout his life. A champion for the world’s children, he visited hospitals and orphanages all over the world bringing gifts and money to improve their conditions. Neverland Ranch hosted disadvantaged children every month, those vacations a reminder to inner city, ill and disadvantaged kids that there is more to the world than pain, that fun and hope are still alive and that they might escape their conditions. But mostly Michael wanted children to know that an adult who made it to adulthood with his inner child intact, cared deeply about them!

Michael did not share the world’s cynicism about adult-child relationships. He saw and cherished the innocence of children. He understood children because as an adult, he was not so far out from childhood that he forgot how children think and feel. A sensitive empath, Michael suffered a huge emotional reaction to what happened at Columbine and wanted to prevent another occurrence. He was invited to speak at Oxford University and given an honorary degree. In his Super Bowl performance Michael highlighted children from all over the world—every culture, color and ethnicity. Michael was often photographed within crowds of children.

When the world’s shadow descended on him it was sinister. Michael found himself accused of the darkest shadow behavior that could betray the innocence of a child. Two families driven by personal greed impaled Michael Jackson with the one thing that would do the most harm to his heart. Instantly bastardized in “breaking news,” a media panting at the magnitude of the story, pandering to the cult of celebrity, titillated by scandal and gleeful at filling a 24 hours news cycle with the downfall of a “king,” they focused non-stop on the most visible and wealthy person on the planet. It was the same kind of voyeurism that stops to stare at injured or dead victims of auto accidents—the fascination with witnessing some kind of morbid demise or decay.

A review of trial transcripts, legal filings and checks on reputations and backgrounds of attorneys and officials involved reveals much about the motive of all, including Micael's accusers. A close look uncovers prior extortion attempts on other celebrities and corporations as well as documentation of a threat to destroy the star if he refused to bankroll ambitions of parasitic parents whose children he befriended, some while they were gravelly ill.

Michael had dangled the carrot of a visit to Neverland to a boy ill with stage IV cancer who eventually became an accuser. Actually the boy refused to testify against Michael asserting he had done nothing wrong. It was the boy's father who brought charges. He had asked Michael to bankroll a career shift fom dentist to screenplay writer. Michael refused.

Michael's ministrations and nightly phone calls to the sick child from wherever he was in the world and while on tour, kept the boy fighting for his life through chemotherapy. It kept him alive. What child wouldn’t want to hang on for a personal play date with Michael Jackson at Neverland Ranch? And what parent would veto that? Parents were invited to come along with their children on tours and appearances in exotic locations and in the best hotels. And if your child gets well in the meantime, who would want to leave quietly and give up that kind of privileged lifestyle?

Three different grand jurys said no to prosecutors who wanted to try the 1993 case that was eventually settled out of court by Michael's insurance company over Michael's objections.

Prosecutors and news media made a huge deal of Michael hosting children in his “bedroom.” What they failed to explain about Michael’s “bedroom” was that it was actually a two story suite within his mansion and not only did he host children there but their parents as well. “Sharing your bed” in Michael’s world was in the spirit of Friday night popcorn and movies and Saturday morning gatherings where children pile into our beds to talk, giggle, ask questions and let us in on their otherwise secret lives. Michael and other adults slept on the floors or on couches. There’s an intimacy in bedrooms that allows for this kind of connection. It’s a family intimacy that is not “adult” in content, nor sexual, or sinister. Michael’s own children joined in these movie nights and sleep-overs. How many of us could withstand an accusation about ours or others’ children that we might host in our two story home? In our vacation cottage or camping tents? How many of us could survive it through a very public and worldwide frenzy?

The District Attorney who prosecuted both cases interviewed hundreds of children and their families even going out of the country to try to find the “dirt” on Michael Jackson. There was none to find. How is it that Michael was charged on ten counts yet he was found innocent of all charges? How does that happen? No convictions? Not guilty on even a single count? What Michael Jackson was accused of just didn’t live in his world, but it apparently lived in the world of the D.A. who brought the charges on both cases.

Does it reach beyond “duty” when a District Attorney refuses to give back seized belongings, saving them for ten years? When he can’t find anyone to corroborate the charges or incriminate either locally or in this country so he goes around the world looking for those who would accuse? When he continues for a decade even after not finding even one child more? Men who prey on children are serial offenders. Is it overkill to send 70 deputies with a search warrant to swarm over a sanctuary for children? To search and photograph every corner of someone's private life and world looking for evidence of something to hang on a man beloved in every corner of this globe? How many of us could withstand that kind of obsession and sweeping invasion?

The charges against Michael didn’t surface until after the Martin Bashir documentary that painted him in the worst possible light. Michael expected Bashir to expose his heart and the real Michael Jackson to the world. A shy person who avoided public speaking, Michael was uncomfortable with interviews or speaking out. Michael was only comfortable performing on stage. He was convinced that a journalist with sensitivity and scruples could set the record straight about him. It is well known that Bashir gained Michael’s confidence and then left the kind, magnanimous, humanitarian, normal and doting parent who was Michael Jackson on the cutting room floor. Bashir manipulated a trusting Michael and led him to slaughter with a tabloid-style documentary. Michael himself was a film buff who had filmed the entire series of interviews with Bashir so he was able to release what Bashir had maliciously bastardized or omitted. But the damage was already done. The documentary gave Michael’s accusers opportunity and they pounced.

Children did flock to Michael; they did follow him like the Pied Piper. Children are not fooled. They know when adults have hidden motives. They know when they feel “icky” around certain adults; they avoid them. Children liked Michael and longed to be close to him because he embodied the unabashed joy and wonder that children feel slipping from them as they realize they are soon expected to grow up. The world in demanding that we all grow up and abandon our inner child loses something important—the innocence and simplicity of childlike authenticity. Children know who cares and who doesn’t. Children clung to Michael because he represented something gossamer that they felt slipping from them. Letting go of childhood is painful; it’s traded for the despairing reality that we don’t much care for the world we are inheriting. And we don’t especially care for the adult mind that we are being asked to become. Are we all so far out from childhood that we don’t remember?

Michael often said that he would never refuse attention to a child who needed him. He might have been guilty of not understanding the cynical mind, of not being able to predict the worst case scenarios, of naiveté`, of trusting the wrong people, of not understanding contemporary social and political culture because he was so isolated and insulated but his motives and humanitarian efforts were genuine and unequaled. Michael gave so much and shared his time with children simply because he could. He had the means and the heart to give children experiences that he never had. Michael allowed children with illnesses or special needs to travel with him to give them the excitement of hanging out with a superstar, introducing them to the world, and watching achievements that they could someday aspire to. He took his visibility and its responsibility and his position as role model very seriously.

If you wanted to destroy Michael Jackson, the surest way to do it was to accuse him of harming children. It was simply not in him. The destruction was emotional, psychological, career damaging, financial, devastating to image and reputation and very, very personally wounding. The damage to Michael was irrevocable. The shadow’s reach was gigantic because Michael was known and beloved all over the world. The shadow the world projected drowned him. It would have immediately killed a lesser man. Maybe it was the beginning of his dying.

Meanwhile, the rest of the world wondered what America and its media was doing to this kind, sensitive and generous humanitarian. The conclusions? America is a dangerous place. America delights in shadow. Americans relish destroying their national treasures. America’s media is drinking the Kool-Aid.

The reporters at the trial were legion. What trial were they attending? Which one were they reporting on? When Michael was found innocent of the charges on each of ten counts, the news organizations were stunned into silence. How could his innocence have been so unexpected? Was there any clue that the man might not be guilty? What story were they covering? An invented tabloid story? Or the truth?

The real tragedy of this dark and sorry example of collective human shadow is not only what it did to Michael who was apparently innocent all along, but to the children who, in the future, would never benefit from a day at Neverland… the children who couldn’t be inspired… who wouldn't ever know a world beyond their danger-filled "hood," who now could not be saved… because Michael had to declare on advice from counsel “I will never again allow myself to be in such a vulnerable position.” He never went back to Neverland. In fact, he didn’t go back to America.

Michael never saw the shadow coming. It didn’t live in his world until it loomed up to impale him in the most vulnerable of places—his generous heart. Would you see the shadow coming? Will you stand and face it with integrity when it comes for you? Will you stand at all? Will you keep your composure while they draw blood and suckle at your life force?

Is the shadow still at work in the world? Is it still focused on Michael Jackson? Well, yes it is still at work; and no, it’s no longer focused on the man himself because he’s no longer here. But his artwork is. The shadow now falls on Michael’s collection of art while recruited pundits perform psychological autopsies and "diagnose" a client they've never seen. Michael's art is filled with cherubs who represent archetypal bright shadow in the works of the masters; with whimsical creatures who resurrect imagination; with mystical figures who communicate beauty and divine essence; with history’s most brilliant and larger than life characters who inspired Michael to reach within to find his own genius, divinity and brilliance. Prominent in the portraits is Michael himself. He had the artist paint him in. Michael embraced his God given talent and knew himself to be a divine child so he commissioned it in his art. It’s what Christ and other world teachers told us to do. And there are some pieces with shiny faced children who are riveted on a single figure who is doting on them, reading to them, nurturing them, leading them and cherishing them. That singular figure in the portraits is Michael Jackson.

Were we all to embrace our Bright Shadow, we would all shimmer with light and resolve to make the world a better place. If we would but reach into the mirror for our darkest shadow and grasp what we find behind it—we too would dress that emerging sacred hand forever in a sequined glove. For it would grasp our brilliance and bring it through to here, to now. Our shadow, the wounded part of us that feels unloved and unworthy would no longer be the lost child. Once acknowledged, cradled and transformed by embrace and not abandonment-- L.O.V.E.-- it would find life. It is in the juice of that dark cocoon of shadow that the milk of nourishment awaits the transfigured butterfly that flies free and beautiful.

The world lost a treasure when it lost Michael Jackson. The biggest loser in this story of collective dark shadow is …. us. We, as the collective, have lost something somewhere that was essential, something that encouraged us to be alive and not deadened inside, something innocent and fresh and beautiful and God inspired, something that sparkled, something that spoke the best of our species, something patient and silent while waiting the final word, something that could embrace the lonely waif in another only looking for acceptance and love, something democratic and generous and willing to believe, something brave that doesn’t succumb to fear, something that demands truth, something with human luster. Something like... say, the world's greatest and longest cheerleader? Go humanity. Go team.

We allowed this to happen. We let the shadow hunger for tabloid secrets and lust for a voyeur’s peek at a larger than life figure. That taste for carnage killed both Princess Diana and Michael Jackson. We wanted someone to chase them, to revel in revealing their secrets and humanness, to gawk at who we think they are being that we are not. And when we realize what we have done, we will re-summon more of our own shadow to make excuses. To justify. To make light of our complicity. To explain away our culpability, to protest and declare our innocence.

Who is next? Where will our blood lust take us now? Who will we cannibalize tomorrow? Whose private life will we want exposed? Whose sexuality will we arrogantly demand revealed? What have we done? What have we lost? How can we make it right? We can’t. It’s too late. "This is It." The man is dead. Shadow wins.

This is it? What now? Can we transform dark shadow?

2010-01-09T21:00:00.003-06:00

The piece about Michael and Shadow was disturbing, yes. Shadow is disturbing. And the kind of dark shadow that Michael Jackson had to duel was not a pretty commentary on human nature. Truth is sometimes painful. We look away because we can't bear it. Shadow is defeated when it is revealed in truth and honesty. An honest and direct look is not always easy.

It is quite probable that those who are guilty of heaping shadow on Michael know somewhere in their hearts what they did. We always know. To expect them to make amends is asking them to face squarely the darkest part of self. And as we see, it is not easy to look it steadily in the face.

The field and memes or cultural myths surrounding Michael and his story are concretized or solidified in the minds of many. The field can be changed. We, together can take on shadow and we can transform it. It is a high game we play. Ready?

Then click: Here

Michael and Androgyny

2010-01-04T12:13:00.005-06:00

Is androgyny a phase or is it the evolutionary impulse of humankind? What is androgyny? It is the embracing and blending of both male and female characteristics in the human being. Androgyny is reflected in a look, in dress, in esthetics such as makeup and jewelry as it relates to human sexuality and gender.

Look no further than the fashion runway to see the trend changing. The “look” is a blend of soft and strong, yin and yang, swish and slash, and sexy asexual. The yin and yang blend is neither overtly masculine nor feminine but features both in modern style. The new urban “Metrosexual” is a more blended, progressive and androgynous style for men.

If you remember Boy George or David Bowie, they exemplified the androgynous male as does Prince. It’s no longer fashionable to be exclusively the aggressive, hard and dominating male figure. It’s no longer cool to be sexually threatening. It’s even acceptable now to have five gay men give you fashion and domestic advice from a “Queer Eye” perspective. How modern culture has relaxed! Rigid male and females roles must have been exhausting to maintain.

Androgyny is not new. Ancient Greece and Rome were more relaxed about sexuality and sexual identity. Men often had homosexual and well as heterosexual relationships. The rise of Christianity buried the androgynous principle and drove same sex relations underground and made it taboo and an abomination. Other cultures have been more liberal about sexuality and gender: Hindu gods and goddesses which depict the various aspects of God include androgynous characters like Shiva; Hapi of Egypt, Dionysus of Greece and Obatala of South America and the Caribbean are androgynous deities. There are numerous characters in history whom did not fit into specific gender roles of their culture. Strong women like Helen of Troy, Cleopatra, St. Joan and others were not “feminine” in the traditional sense. Male saints, mystics, artist and poets like Hafiz and Rumi did not fit the modern definition of “masculinity.”

A culture can be stern about its expectations and rules about gender characteristics and the norms can be strictly enforced. There are punishments for those who dare to deviate from the “norms” of a society when it comes to sexuality, gender and expression of human sensuality. Punishments range from banishment and ostracism, to harassment and even death.

Nothing seems to stir the lower emotions more than human sexuality and sexual identity issues. Sexuality and anger are processed in adjoining regions in the human body—the genitals and solar plexus so it is no surprise when they are confused or fused. Many men are still threatened by any deviation from the culturally embedded “male image” and will attack representations of that threat. Actually, the human fetus has characteristics of both sexes and is born with both male and female sets of hormones. Androgyny is natural.

The feminist and gay rights movements, the rise of glam rockers like Bowie and Prince, the cinematic rise of “tough females” like Angelina Jolie and Uma Thurman, the revealed sensuality of Madonna, Beyonce and shocker Adam Lambert have helped to reshape culture from exclusionary and harsh into a more inclusive, tolerant and democratic form. It is a message to value all people.

But even before all of the movements and the direct assaults on social norms and conscience by daring modern entertainers, there was Michael Jackson. His ever-changing but androgynous look, his boyish manner, use of makeup and flamboyant dress was a cutting edge androgynous message. Michael’s androgynous “look” was often interpreted as asexual and was impetus for much speculation, sarcasm and joking about his sexuality and gender identity. His “You are Not Alone” music video is the perfect picture of androgyny. His solo piece in that short film combines a sense of boyish and non-threatening innocence with sensual physicality that can’t quite be characterized as “machismo” or even “male.” The later appearance of his wife, Lisa Marie Presley and Michael partially disrobed conveys a Greco-Roman beauty and romance yet makes clear the sensuality and sexual sparks between them, confirmed by Lisa Marie in later interviews.

Why was Michael Jackson’s “identity” under so much scrutiny in his lifetime? His gender, sexuality, looks, face, sensual dance, relationships and private life seemed “up for grabs” by and in the public. A frenzied media speculated about everything in regard to Michael’s sexuality and gender identity. Both sexes found Michael attractive. Perhaps it was Michael alone who was not confused but clear about himself, his role and his message?

Did Michael purposely challenge cultural norms and gender roles? Michael was ahead of his time in the thrust past prejudice and ignorance and toward an evolution into unity and acceptance of all human beings as equal members of the human family. Did a brilliant and cunning Michael Jackson deliberately challenge Puritanical and harsh cultural law about gender as well as race? Did Michael Jackson know exactly what he was doing as he and his work morphed over a lifetime? Michael has affirmed so many times that his work was Divinely inspired art. If so, then Michael might have been more genius and spiritual warrior in favor of the human family and evolution than previously recognized.

Michael Jackson and the Divine Feminine

2010-01-01T22:22:00.012-06:00

We live in a world of duality. Duality means simply that if something is this, then it cannot be that. If it is not this, then it must be the other—the opposite. If it’s not up, it must be down; if not in, then it’s out; if you’re not right, then you must be wrong; it’s either black or it’s white. Things in our world tend to be polarized. The world of polarity sets up competition, jealousy, social strata, classism, racism and all the other isms of the world. It can be tribal—you’re one of us or you’re not. That approach is divisive, not inclusive and is a “male” or “masculine”principle. Male principle is active while female principle is passive. The human being has characteristics of both principles yet one is suppressed in favor of the other. Nature expresses both until humans mess with the balance. And the imbalance is reflected in the approach to nature and culture. Duality is an out-of-balance state.

In human affairs the male has traditionally been identified with leadership: the provider and protector. And women have been associated with mothering and keeping home and hearth. At one time, women couldn’t vote, work outside the home, go to public places unescorted, be leaders, politicians or own property. Women’s rights are relatively new on the scene. Equality for women began in earnest less than a half century ago with the "Women's Movement." In some places in the world, women are still oppressed.

Men have been in charge of the world, made the decisions, lead the armies, formed the government, governed the people. The masculine principle has governed human and world affairs for a long time. Women thought to be the weaker sex, were considered incapable of competent decision making or leadership. Women were excluded from real leadership roles.

Not so long ago, girls didn’t play with toy guns and boys didn’t have dolls. It was desirable to be macho, aggressive, warlike and superior—very masculine ways of being. And women were to be soft, feminine, perfumed and quiet. Not so long ago women and children were considered chattel and treated as possessions. Some cultures still treat genders unequally.

Gender bias plays out in the cultural world as a lack of balance. The acts of negotiation, reconciliation, cooperation, collaboration and diplomacy are feminine approaches to problems. The masculine way is mostly authoritarian, dictatorial war-like, to take by force, to invade or thrust into, to coerce. The imbalance that allowed the masculine to be considered the superior way and indeed the only way in some cultures has had a devastating effect on our planet. War has been the primary way of settling differences on Earth. The symbols and instruments of war are masculine—guns, bombs, tanks, gunships, stealth fighters and bombers, bullets, and rockets. How is it that these symbols of war are all phallic shapes? They mimic the male sexual organ in erection. The masculine is considered invasive while the feminine is receptive. Both sexes have inner traits of the opposite sex-- the anima for males and animus for females.

God is depicted as male. In fact the Christian Trinity is an all male club. "Male" systems are mostly authoritarian, hierarchical and patriarchal. The way of the masculine is violence, power and materialism. The male principle is largely responsible for the eco-disaster of pollution, global warming and overuse of scarce resources. Masculine without the balance of the feminine destroys equilibrium in a culture, in nature and on a world. Devaluing the feminine has had a devastating effect on Western culture. A society based in hierarchy rules from the top with power and exploits the masses. The feminine principle values family, children, home and environment, compassion, unity, inclusion, sacred circle. When the feminine is devalued, true intimacy and vitality are not possible.

The masculine and feminine principle operates not only culturally but spiritually and throughout the Universe. The Universe is a blend of both energies. Light is masculine while darkness is feminine; the moon is feminine while the sun is masculine. The Universe is a beautiful blending of the Yin (feminine principle) and Yang (masculine principle.) In flux and in balance, the play of light and darkness, of opposites blending and energies mingling is what makes creation work well.

There is a resurgence of the Divine Feminine on the planet, an impulse toward balance, a movement toward harmony. The planet is being viewed no longer as real estate, a male or masculine view. Earth is beginning to be seen as a system, an interdependent web, a living being called Gaia, the feminine goddess. This concept of wholeness and balance is a more healthy and balanced approach to planetary affairs. The arising of Divine Feminine energies on the planet is bringing back an interest in education, nurturing children and improving the quality of life. There is an impulse toward embracing life and beauty, nurturing and growing things—including people.

Machismo fears being seen as feminine so rarely were males depicted as sensitive, nurturing and gentle. Avoiding the "girly man" image was once an almost phobic pasttime for men. Some are still phobic about being identified with anything "feminine." Toughness is prized in maleness. If one cannot be " kind with self, it becomes harder to be kind to a planet, its ecosystem or its peoples. Bill Cosby was one of the first males to embrace a different kind of father figure and head of family. More and more men are finding a way to allow their feminine side expression. They are more yin and yang balanced because there is more cultural permission to be balanced with an integrated anima, Carl Jung's name for the inner feminine.

When you look at the work of Michael Jackson, you find many references to the Divine Feminine. In his “Bad” era he examines and dissects male aggression and its effect. He places fighting for the sake of posturing and machismo under a microscope. “The whole world has to answer right now just to tell you once again… who’s bad.” It is a parallel archetypal reference to the whole world being held hostage by the masculine.

In “Beat It” he highlights opposing gang members and how “funky” fighting is and how aggression because of “differences” and disputes leads them down a dangerous dead end road. He asks them to reconcile within themselves, to walk away, to leave because “no one wants to be defeated.” If you don’t fight, there is no defeat.

In “Black or White” Michael says it doesn’t matter. You don’t have to be this or that- one or the other. Identifying with an either-or mentality or racism which is a masculine principle of exclusion won’t work if you want to “be my baby” or “my brother.” Michael says "I'm not going to spend my life being a color." The concept of oneness, equality, racial indifference, inclusion, family, brotherhood, ‘we not me’, nurturing children, remembrance, and respect for all life is the Divine Feminine Principle in action and it is found throughout Michael's work.

In "Remember the Time" music video, Michael not only looks at a time when the feminine had more power-- ancient Egypt, he chose the oldest and most enduring culture on Earth for the setting of this film. Egypt is rich in spiritual myth, mystery and mysticism-- all feminine principles. It is said "man fears time but time fears the pyramids." Michael conveys and completely embodies the Divine Feminine in his costuming, appearance, and dance. The bird at the Pharaoh’s head which caused a bit of humor and concern for Eddie Murphy, is the symbol for Mother Maat, the Divine Feminine Mother Goddess of Egypt.

Michael was not afraid of being both masculine and feminine in his lyrics, his voice, dance and his films. He identified strongly with darkness and the moon—both Divine Feminine principles. Michael Jackson, through his body of work was doing his part to bring the masculine and feminine energies back to a world that had lost the balance. Michael was a great teacher, and a master of subliminal and not so subliminal suggestion.

He taught about the Divine Feminine, embodied it in his work, voice and self. Michael was not afraid to cry or express emotion. He promoted non-violence, the way of Gandhi, Martin Luther King and other great leaders. The message is-- it's OK to be a sensitive male; it's OK to feel; it's OK to cry. Many men didn't understand how women found Michael's attraction so magnetic and seductive. Threatened by Michael's attractiveness to females and his bold sensuality/sensitivity, they declared he must be gay! Michael was not gay and he kept his sexuality and intimate life private, as it should be. I suspect the reason so many females around the world were so attracted to Michael was because he expressed his feminine side through his sensitivity and work while expressing his sensual male side with with leather and buckles and dance moves. Michael masterfully was both at the same time: an embodiment of the Divine Masculine and the Divine Feminine-- the adept spiritual warrior in action.

Not So Strange, Obe Wan

2009-12-24T00:48:00.003-06:00

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."

Michael Jackson Bright Shadow and Finding your Inner Michael

2009-12-21T10:37:00.002-06:00

“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.

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.

Michael Jackson Fans

2009-12-20T22:31:00.003-06:00

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.

A Letter to the "Sparkle People" MJ admirers who wrote to me...

2009-12-20T01:53:00.002-06:00

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.

My Guest Column "Inner Voice": A Tribute to Michael Jackson in Natures Pathway December Issue

2009-12-20T00:49:00.002-06:00

The Man and the Mirror

2009-12-20T00:46:00.002-06:00

~ 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

Tribute and Review of "This Is It:" The movie and Michael Jackson's Last Performance

2009-12-19T23:35:00.003-06:00

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.

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