the one woman apollo!

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 78)

2010-08-06T05:07:00.000-07:00

it's been almost 10 years... i listened to that speech (or as you said, "lecture") again, with tears in my eyes. the profundity, the gentleness, the sincerity; these are all things i saw previously, in watching your lesson at oxford. and of course with every listen (or read) i get a different perspective.

in listening to it just now, i grapple with you not being here, as your message was so timeless... which really means you haven't left at all. i go back to the comment about your age though. you were 42... you were just here... that you gave one of your greatest lessons to the world at the age of 42 is testament to your quest to move inward, in order to gain a better grasp of the world surrounding you. to admit, overall, the process of self-discovery is one of the greatest things a teacher could do. as so many have considered you the sweetest person on earth; for you to admit the struggles you've had in forgiveness (in terms of your father) lends to that drive to connect us all. the acknowledgment that there are even issues you need to deal with before you can truly forgive anyone else is again, what connects us as 'children of the earth'.

what moved me so this time was listening to you cry, when ruminating upon the relationship with your father... this always moves me; this time i began to think of the relationship with my own mother. as you know we have also had a pained history... when i spoke with her for the book it ended up being the greatest conversation i ever had with her, and it was the impetus for a long journey of healing with her. when you spoke of forgiveness in relation to your father i simply related this to my own desire to forgive my mother, and know that she has struggled as well.

that moment with my mother was the summit- it was the key which opened the lock on our emotional housings... we both closed off because we have both been hurt. you were the gate which was the bridge between us in which to open. it was you who bonded us.

and listening to the lesson/lecture for another time was the apex to a long day... where i met a girl named harmony . she was taking photographs of a recently-run over squirrel... it looked as if he was hit, then decided to drag himself over to the side of the road to live out his last seconds. he was definitely in a better place. it looked as if his eyes were missing... as if they sunk into his body. it was a sad moment. harmony also took a picture of the little michael doll on his little bicycle. we then began to speak about captain EO and such. she appeared ready to embrace your teachings. i have been having a lot more of these moments of spontaneity as of late...

there isn't a lot of video footage of you at oxford that i have seen... there is some. it's interesting, because despite the message of hope in the lesson, your body language and face read the contrary. you looked absolutely drained and distraught in the images i have seen. i could imagine the great concern you had, hoping that others will hear your message as opposed to vying for a piece of the character they knew of as 'michael jackson'(tm). also, to present this aspect of yourself in this way is to be truly vulnerable. would people recognize this if they are simply screaming out to you?

the thing to do here is meditate... meditate in order to not physically confront the numerous energies to pass your day. meditate to bring yourself back to the centre.

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 77)

2010-08-05T01:20:00.000-07:00

michael, this is our 77th conversation... and just as in the 7th month of your transition, there have been revelatory moments. according to st. augustine, the number 77 represents the "last limit of sin" (or 'the perfection of sin'); will all the events which occurred recently now open up to an energy of love?

looking into some interpretations of this number, i found some not-so-positive things: how u.s. highway 77 is the site close to where many unfortunate events occured (such as the oklahoma city bombing (and incidents leading up to, and after the bombing). however, i also see the number 7 described as having spiritual connotations. in this case, the number 77 represents "spiritual awareness; ...spiritual conduit and an agent of change" (according to allexperts.com); and according to numberquest.com, this number represents the "wise counsel, body as temple, mystical powers in action, purity in mind, body and spirit, master mystic, loving detachment, holy emptiness, turning away from the masses and towards spirit, presence, conscious union with God, mystical marriage, electricity of awakening, universal intelligence."

there's always these symbolic moments which prompt stark realizations. where is it that i want to be? this may sound funny, but i see you. i stare at your images, not as an aspect of fantasy; what i observe are ripples of energy. photographs are simply captured in seconds; they can never be based in an absolute reality, as there are many realities for many people. photographs are brief replicas of a specific event; which can be modified, according to aperture, film stock or studio work. our interpretation is only as far as our vision. one thing which cannot be transformed is energy.

the second a camera recognized your face, there was a focus on the face. it's always said that photographs steal the soul, but i believe the contrary. simply because the focus is usually not on the soul.

just as the focus of the industry you were involved in was not focused on the soul. a person whose soul transcends an environment conducive to destruction is bound to forever remain, whether or not the industry remains. i stare and stare at your images; i stare into your beautiful, forlorn eyes, and with just that i feel thankful to have you in my life. what attracts me to those photographs is your energy.

needless to say, i became acquainted with you (in an incarnation relative to now) in a year ending with the number 7. a coincidence, possibly. still, everything happens for a reason.

and when i read what i did, it re-confirmed my belief that the soul cannot be stolen, if it's already permeated our psyches.

"how you gonna release michael jackson when michael jackson ain't here to bless it? ... that's bad."

these are the words of a certain will.i.am, in response to the 'posthumous' releases of your teachings. the fact that he said this gives me a respect for him i did not necessarily have. the respect lies in the fact that he is set to gain, financially, a substantial amount if the songs he worked on with you were to be released; and he is consciously rejecting this notion out of respect for you. it's also a relief to know that i am not alone in my vocal opposition to the capitalization of your teachings. he considered those who plan to release your works posthumously to be a set of "parasites". "now that he is not part of the process, what are they doing? why would you put a record out like that? ...so what? how much can you suck from [michael's] energy? ... what's wrong with what he already contributed to the world? he wouldn't have wanted it that way."

this is what i mean... your soul resonates with those who choose to see it. those who capitalize on your teachings, i don't believe ever recognized its crucial presence.

i see you. i recognize you. i feel a quake in my spine, straight into my belly. this, a simple photograph cannot do. this, a simple song cannot do, unless those notes are recognized as a series of vibrations... when music becomes life. when music converges with image; born from a series of atoms. those atoms split in order to reveal those universal narratives.

with this, i suppose there is such a thing as sucking one's soul, just as there is such a thing as depleting the earth's energy. however, no matter how much you make attempts to eliminate and camouflage/suppress truth (and THE truth of love), it's always lurking...

and you can't suppress what you already contributed to the world.

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 76)

2010-08-04T01:56:00.000-07:00

my muscles still ache somehow... it seems to be worse than yesterday. i can only imagine how you felt, performing night after night on stage with arthritic joints. your arches must have been ravished. all i know is that my shoulder and neck are killing me. a little arnica should assist in the healing.

i do wonder if, the older i get the more emotional pain could be intermingled with the physical... or is it just a sign of getting older? i'm at that age where i could still be considered 'a baby', and yet the social expectations for me to have 'a spouse, a house, children and a career' hover, ever so near. i am at a crossroads, and my shoulder is informing me of this fact. i must make the decision to heal what aches.

the same goes for my heart, and my spirit.

i realized, right after i spoke with you yesterday, where i needed to be. i suppose i was alluding to this yesterday, but it became so clear to me: i want really bad to be a parent. i also intend for this little one to be raised by someone other than myself- a companion. a person i can share my life and experiences with. however... i am not looking for a 'mate'. this situation is not as contradictory, or as complicated as i think it is.

a companion is something i have searched for my whole life. the desire to entertain the trappings of a romantic relationship was never as large a priority. it was easy for me to make the two interchangeable though, because i figured that was the way to be the closest to someone, and consistently remain close to them over the years; so many people i considered friends- people who were at least a decade my senior- were getting married and having children. even at such a young age, i felt left out. at this age, due to my minimal experience, i came to the conclusion that falling in love guaranteed instant rejection. in a funny way i took comfort in that, knowing i wouldn't have to deal with the 'trappings of romance'. still, the hurt in rejection was extreme, where it occasionally isolated me from the world outside. i pursued and pursued until i made the decision to remain silent on my feelings for someone, to the point where there are no feelings at all. it may have not been the most pro-active thing to do, but at least i avoided rejection...

...all this to get to the place i am now. perhaps i have willed myself into avoiding rejection so much that i hold no stock in 'romantic' relationships at this point. i'm perfectly okay with being the 'kid sister' to my friends and acquaintances, as they still marry and raise children of their own. HOWEVER i realize, this approach i am taking does not warrant an action from me, to deal with my own growing desire to be a mother. people raising children together outside of romantic relationships is far from a novel idea (that is certainly something you did in your own life); my lack of experience in this is prompting difficulty in my knowing how to approach that.

even though the life i live is contrary to how i (and many others) was conditioned to respond to social situations; i do wonder if there is something to be said for the social relations between the genders... i keep hearing "this is how men do things, and this is how women do things". acknowledging that the concept of gender is in and of itself socialized (and that some people don't even consider themselves to take part in these constructions); i wonder if, the older i get, these constructions have taken root, even for the people in my life who for the most part reject most major (mainstream) social structures.

and then... i refer back to you. it's like, "it worked for michael! he wasn't affected by these constructions! he rejected so many of them!" and then i jump back to reality and realize that in many ways, you have not. and neither have i.

your experiences, just like mine, have definitely prompted you to question a lot of these constructions. how you view relationships; how children were a crucial aspect of your life's philosophy... your work ethic. but then, you desired to be with someone. you longed for the feeling of companionship. to be touched, to be loved. this is something which is inescapable it seems. all living species need companionship; and to another extent, all living species share the need to reproduce and see that their accomplishments have left a better impact than they.

these are things i have fought for the longest time, and now it's all catching up with me. as diana ross (as dorothy) lamented in 'the wiz': "is this what feeling gets?"

it's an arduous thing sometimes, to have feelings. you concealed yours quite well sometimes, behind glasses, layers of jackets or emblems, or on a stage. but sometimes, when you allowed yourself to be unadorned- when those glasses came off in 1984 ("for the girls in the balcony"), when you looked into children's eyes at orphanages; and yes, all those times you stood next to diana ross- you revealed so much more than you perhaps wanted to- or will ever know.

yes, to have feelings means that exposure (or nakedness) is inevitable. and that includes a possibility of rejection. "looking around in the lost and found of the heart". thus, the catch 22. where do people like us fit in?

sometimes you scream. sometimes you cry. sometimes you hit things. sometimes you withdraw. and ALL the time you just chalk it up to being a part of life. people will never understand you. oh well. such is life.

but is this really to be? everything has the potential for change, right?

i ran into a good friend of mine, as i was coming home from work. we walked together a bit, as she was also on a destination. we both revealed what was going on with the both of us. what ended up happening; she will never know how grateful i am to her. in speaking with her about her own struggles i saw the potential for my own ability to see light.

i see so much light in her (and in others), but don't always see it in myself. "you have so much love to give, you have so much love within you" she said. it was when she said that, it really hit me. i realized that part of this lay in my not wanting to give love to just one person. i want companionship, but i do not want to be tied to one person, in terms of how we are conditioned to view companionship. i want to give the love i have to share to the children, to the cats, to people who are hungry. to others who are struggling emotionally.

i love my friend so much. she has been there for me in my darkest hours, when i lost the desire to just get out of bed (and live). we had some struggles in recent times; and when i saw her i wanted her to know that everything was alright. i was there for her (as i always had been). i wanted her to see her own beauty, her own light. we embraced in the street for the longest time.

that is all i want: is to know that others see their potential to see light. this is mainly what companionship is to me. she said that she saw the light in me. she told me that it was you who really assisted me in getting there. THIS IS WHAT SHE SAID. so many of the doubts i had about myself in relation to my dedication to you just slid away. i didn't feel like such a crazy person.

still... i don't always see this light in myself. i struggle with what i could do, how i look, how i relate to others...

"before you judge me, try hard to love me." really, i must say this to myself. i have so much love to give to others, but i don't find enough time to give it to myself. the truth is, i don't know how to get there. i don't know how. and that hurts.

feelings...

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 75)

2010-08-03T00:15:00.000-07:00

when i got home, the pains subsided... i couldn't tell if it was the food i ate, or gas, or something else. as i got ready to get into bed to rest off the pain, i felt most of it subside. it was here i attributed everything to nerves.

i know this may appear monotonous, but at this moment i realized how much my connection with you does affect my relationships. this is not saying that you prevent me from forming relationships with others; from that moment we formally met (back in february) though, i became extremely sensitive to the energy around me. i am working through a lot again, in terms of finding comfort within myself to deal with others. i go through periods where i want to withdraw from the world around me... lately, i have a need to connect with others.

i always wonder if those i connect with will grasp my dedication to you. or if my dedication to you is a hindrance. because of the person you are and the absence of your physical state it may be interpreted that my sense of 'reality' has diminished. of course, your teachings are eternal; but since we are conditioned to focus on the physical form the concept of me having a relationship with you could be deemed 'nonsensical'.

at times, this leads to the core of my recent sadness. i have moments where i find great difficulty in dealing with 'the outside world'. but my relationship with you consists of different dynamics. because we are now dealing with vibrations. this is something i don't always know how to vocalize; therefore i feel isolated even from those who say they love you. much of our relationship requires little to no words. it is these moments where i just feel you, and i know you're there, observing this plane in which you were violently taken away from.

i still do feel bouts of great sorrow when i see you; not necessarily because your brilliant spirit, which perpetuated sowing the seeds of positive global transformation was expunged from our immediate physical consciousness- this is nothing new; this consistently happens to our brightest spirits. it's not even necessarily because we've never met when you were physically here.

it's because when i speak these words to you, i do not know what words you speak in response. i cannot hear your screams, your tears, your laughter. all which physically manifests itself is the past. i do my best to look towards the future, but all i do is stare at your many images, to get a sense of the possibility of what i imagine to be a corresponding set of declarations.

all i can do is tell you every day that i love you, and hope you don't find my own declaration to be insincere. all i can do to do my best to present to the world what you have taught me.

as i write this i spend a significant amount of time observing your looks over the years... despite the changes your facial structure has not altered much. whether or not you choose to admit it, your genes are distinct. even though, like many of us in this country you come from mixed heritage; your beautiful african features have remained... these features define more than physicality. you can hear it in your cadence, you can detect this in your actions. you represent the universal nature of us.

most of all, you are able to witness all this in your eyes, bearing lifetimes of our struggles and joys. through those eyes you have connected generations. this is one of the reasons i know i mustn't focus on you not being here, to the point where i am unable to live... you have been a lifetime of grandparents, friends, lovers- teachers.

i feel the same way about your hands... i love to look at them. i find them to be more interesting than my own (i suppose i can say that a lot about myself, as i find a lot of things about you more interesting than myself). to see them is to see a narrative in not just how you lived in this life; but it's also a narrative, again, of other lives. i see a man, hardened by life on the road (be it the railroad, construction or even the stage), rarely having a chance to sit down to a hearty meal. i see the hangnails and the brittleness, and it makes me think of my stepfather's father. he was so kind to me, amongst everyone else's cruelty. he was the one who, whenever i burnt the toast (and i did it a lot) told me that burnt toast was good for you. he was the one who let me watch him build things in the house, as he patiently answered my questions.

those large, brittle hands of yours are comforting to me. the age spots and the puffiness are comforting to me. i recognize that how your hands looked may have been a symbol of poor health. but i also enjoyed the contradiction in them- just like your shoes. there were times you dressed regally, when the shoes you wore were worn down. this is important to note, as you always wanted people to watch your feet as you danced. your hands were a symbol, that you were just as vulnerable as the rest of us; if anyone were to truly believe you were immortal, they'd be forced to confront the inevitable cycle (which escapes no one) by looking at those great palms.

i find comfort in the magnitude and the coarseness of your hands. these are hands which built a landscape of possibilities. when i hear your hands being used rhythmically in a piece of music i know that you are in tune with the spirits. with your elders, your ancestors.

i knew upon reading your autopsy, they would never do justice to those hands. i cannot say if anyone ever did.

and of course, i woke up today, with my right side in pain. i rested with stomach pains and greeted the next day with muscular pain. after running a few errands around the house i took a long nap, awaking to do even more errands. in the course of this i wondered what you thought i meant to you, and what i actually meant to you. and what you mean to me. can this sort of relationship we have last, in an environment like this? what do others actually think when they read these conversations here? do any of these questions actually matter?

still, i begin to feel like i am crazy sometimes, because i wonder how much of my current relationships with others happen to be guided by you. i wonder how much others tolerate my dedication to you. will there ever be someone in my life who fully accepts this?

having experienced panic attacks over several times in my life (they began in adulthood, as far as i know), i sense a lot of the current physical pain i am feeling to bear some sort of relation to anxiety. the funny thing is, with my emotions surrounding the desire for children as well, i think about the phenomena of pseudocyesis, which is, 'false pregnancy'. i don't think THAT is happening to me, but i feel myself changing in ways which make me think about it.

i'm feeling anxious about going out in the world and relating to people in this way. is it 'time' for me to find a 'mate' to raise children with? is that necessary? how is this even possible, when it's hard for me to even get close to people enough for that? the thought frightens me.

the idea of making myself totally available to someone is absolutely frightening. as i mentioned to you before, when this happens it usually ends up in rejection. i refuse to let that happen again. there is a certain point where i close myself off to people. i don't know who is going to make themselves totally available to me either.

am i really at a point in life where i have to make a decision? i'm still so young, but at the same time life is passing me by. as i said the other day, i am the same age you were when you began to openly discuss this moment in your life as well; namely, in the leaked telephone conversation you had with someone named glenda. unfortunately, the tapes were leaked. yes, i did hear them. but when i did hear them i felt i was not alone.

"I want to be with someone... I want to know what a relationship is all about before I die... I never had... I know, I have never had a real relationship, my brothers have been married... My brothers have had girlfriends I really haven't had that... I just ... wanna know what its like... to have a real relationship with someone who doesn't want me for me.... that I don't, I don't have to look over my shoulder all the time... that doesn't question me.. I mean... I don't... and, and.. like La Toya said in her book.. she said, either I am going to have to find somebody who doesn't know who the heck I am... or deal with somebody who's career is equally as important, or equally like mine..."

granted, i suppose i actually HAVE been in a 'real' relationship, with someone who actually DID want to marry me... and i admit that i did initiate that relationship because i was frightened that i would never know what it felt like to be in one (prior to this relationship the same things said about you were said about me- that i was gay, asexual, etc.; and frankly, even AFTER that relationship the same things are said). in the course of that relationship it became abusive- the cycle i saw with the rest of my family continued, so i decided to cease the experience. and so now, the fear i had in getting close to people prior to this specific relationship has returned, triple-fold. as i mentioned to you, i don't want to experience love as a form of domination.

and like you, i want to know what it feels like to feel 'real love'. we are encouraged in this society to find it in the arms of someone we don't know. this is where i choose not to be. as i said, in terms of people and relationships, i have very little knowledge. even if i HAVE been in a 'real' relationship at some point in my life, it's still a world i am not used to. because really, it didn't seem real to me.

but i feel trapped, because my desire to have children is killing me... and i do not want to raise a child alone. and yet i hold no true desire to find a 'mate'. it's like, if it happens it does. but really, even though it would be nice to know what 'real love' feels like, i realized that the fine line falls between you and that person who can fully accept my dedication to you. and i'm not sure if another person could accept that. i mean, it's not just you; it's a lot of things which color my reasoning which have absolutely nothing to do with you- some of this has to do with how i feel about myself, and my experiences. still, my dedication to you does drive a lot of this. "if you love me, you have to accept that michael will be there too."

i've accepted years ago (after this particular 'real' relationship) that i may never experience another. with that, i have chosen to focus my energies elsewhere (and i met a wonderful cat in the process). and i WAS doing that... of course, in the midst of all this i happened to meet YOU, in the incarnation i did. and my life took on a vastly different journey. the contrast in many ways was startling.

and with you, this is the journey i choose to continue to take. it's been a long road, and there's a whole lot of work which needs to be done (and a lot of loads which need to be lightened); but i am doing the best i can with what i have. i thank you for travelling with me and holding my hand (with your own beautiful, large, brittle, hangnailed ones).

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 74)

2010-07-31T22:38:00.000-07:00

after i got off the phone with my sister the other night i had to step back, reflect and ask, is it really that bad...?

it's quite a long story, but it has to do with my extensive relationship with death. no, not death in its archetypal form- well yes, that too. but i am referring more to that way in which those of us who grew up in a consistent environment of abuse must work to maintain a level of 're-birth'. a little of each of us 'dies' each day; but for those of us whose spirits have been buried alive over time, obtaining light at a most opportune moment is crucial.

in your eyes i observe that notion of 're-birth'. in the physical, for you, that may have been through performing. i know it was definitely children. for me, it is also children... and cats. and food. my relationship with food is spotty at best- on many levels it is not eaten for comfort, but to hide. nevertheless i love to cook for others.

but i digress...

i phoned my sister, as i was sad and i needed someone to talk to... i know i can talk to you, but obviously our interactions are of a different element. when she returned my call she was at a friend's house. i didn't want to go into details at that moment (since i knew she was not by herself); nevertheless i responded to her inquiry of "what's up?"

and just as i knew what was to come, did come. "why don't you just conceive then," was essentially her friend's response. my sister, of course, reiterated this assessment. after a few moments of review (without going into much detail) my sister concluded the conversation with, "i'll call you to make sure you didn't jump off a building."

my sister actually says that a lot to me (she even said it referring to my grieving of your transcendence). somehow, it affected me more this time, not only because i thought of the contradiction of me killing myself over the desire to have children in my life; but also because of her expectation that i make attempts to commit suicide every time i feel the slightest tinge of sorrow. it caused me to step back and ask if i ever grew tired of physically living due to my thinking that i'll never be a mother. i also had to ask, do i really seem that sad to my sister?

i struggle so much with this motherhood thing; due to the responses i don't really expect anyone to grasp anything going on in my mind, despite its simplicity. i have an increasingly intense desire to be a mother and yet, my desire to give birth (or lack thereof) greatly counters this. i could work on getting a job at a nursery, as many have suggested. this would satiate my maternal desires only temporary... as simple as this all is (at least to me), there are so many layers to this narrative. and frankly, i'm not sure where to go.

adopt? i would have done so long ago, if i were able to.

we've discussed the baby thing several times; i don't need to repeat anything to you. it's funny; because i am now the same age you approached the 'fourth phase' of your artistic life: the 'post-quincy jones' phase, where you assert yourself in another creative form. this is that constant 're-birth' i am speaking of. it is also the period where you began to clearly say "i'm not getting any younger, i need children in my life." i always imagine the sense of loss for you, being around so many children yet having none to raise as your own.

when you actually did assume a theoretical role of a father it got you into trouble, as the ways we define family are so limiting. it was either that your relationship with the children was seen as either infringing on the roles of the biological fathers (thereby presenting charges of child abuse); or it was that you had a 'secret child' as a result of affairs with numerous women.

i can only imagine the limitations you felt you had in terms of a societal rejection of paternal roles with a bit of a maternal sensibility. this is one of the many reasons people were so confused by you. it's difficult to accept a man of your stature not biologically fathering many children (when you could have any lady you want, of course), yet desiring to take on a role of fatherhood, with or without a wife.

so, of course, you were gay; you abused children; you were asexual... there's nothing wrong with two of those three things (if that is how you chose to live your life), but still... to cast aspersions due to our own hopes of what we wish someone to be is one of the least pro-active things we can do. thereby, you also were a lover amongst lovers, with girls on your arm, even right before your transcendence.

"Needless to say, I love the interaction between the sexes; it is a natural part of life and I love women. I just think that when sex is used as a form of blackmail or power, it's a repugnant use of one of God's gifts. " the thing is, michael, even as this was said, this is difficult for some to grasp. our conditioning of how sex works is so narrow. and because of how sexual relationships are portrayed, we identify in these relationships who is the 'top' and who is the 'bottom'. who is the 'dominant' and who is the 'submissive'. rarely do we ever hear about an equilibrium. even in issues of rape (which has absolutely nothing to do with sex), the rapist gets accused of performing an 'unlawful sex act'.

in many ways i hold this belief; that sex is interspersed with power and dominance. i've seen this throughout my whole life; growing up as a child, and in my adult life as well . it's something i struggle with on many levels. growing up, i thought it was all bad. it was done to hurt or control people. even as an adult i saw the damage. as i got older i did see that some people had successful relationships. still, to me, sexual relationships are extremely private. i prefer those relationships to remain between those involved. i even cringe at public displays of romantic affection, because now everyone can see such a private act. again casting aspersions, people have critiqued me, saying, "well you just haven't found the right person yet." to me, it's not about that. i'm just an old-fashioned person, i guess. with that, there's a lot about relationships i don't know. admittedly i'm naive about many things.

because of this, i wonder if i would even be a good mother. would i shelter my children too much? would they resent me? would i be too controlling? if i ever were to have children in my life would i have someone in my life to share this experience with? would this person in my life share the same connection to our relationship?

not being a mother right now is really killing me. there is an emptiness i cannot explain. it's not an emptiness of the womb though. i keep saying this, and i don't know if anyone believes me. the truth is, i have an extreme fear of becoming pregnant. if it happens, it happens. there are things i fear more. still, i am filled with distress due to the potentiality of pregnancy. this is called tocophobia (or tokophobia). it's not even that i find pregnancy or childbirth repulsive... i think those are extremely beautiful things- just not for me. it also has nothing to do with pregnancy 'changing my figure'. i'm not concerned with that.

again, i can only imagine your emptiness as the years passed. people demanded so much of you as a performer but all you wanted was to have children, to enhance your life.

when i finish writing this to you the day my niece (my sister's daughter) was brought to us here on this plane will be here; she will be 9 years old. it makes me so sad that i have not been able to watch her grow, to watch her learn. to only speak with her over the telephone. i don't know if anything i've said to her has retained... she is such a smart, sensitive person though. she is someone of great strength. i know that she's been through some pain, in a former life- and even in this one.

knowing that her day was approaching, i did feel quite sad. i feel as if i'm missing something my sister has the opportunity to celebrate- the existence of her CHILD. i don't feel jealousy toward my sister- that would make NO sense, as my sister has nothing to do with whatever anxieties i am having. i just feel a well of inexplicable sorrow, or anguish at the possibility i'll never have those moments. and that i'll never have a child in my life unless i experience what i fear.

how does one measure the desire to have children with the fear of taking part in that 'naturally'? are you 'less of' a person because of this? is that really something to be measured?

"When I was a kid, I was denied not only a childhood, but I was denied love. When I reached out to hug my father, he didn't hug me back. When I was scared on an airplane, he didn't put his arm around me and say, "Michael, don't worry. It's going to be OK." When I was scared to go on stage, he said, "get your ass on that stage." … I will never deny a child love. If it means that I have to be crucified or put in jail for it, then that's just what they're going to have to do."

i won't say i was denied a childhood (i actually DID get to play) but really, that's not the only thing which makes a childhood. i, like you, was denied love. the other thing i fear is that i will smother my child so much with love, they will want to avoid me. i have since settled a lot of these things with my mother, but there is still a deep-seated fear of turning into the parent my mother was when i was growing up (and a still-underlying resentment for her actions), and so i will overcompensate so much to the point of smothering.

i know in some ways i'm not ready to have children, but really, who is? parenthood does not come with a manual. you don't just suddenly discover this degree of readiness just because you want to have children. you must be ready for spontaneity, and committing yourself to this beautiful being.

"Music has been my outlet, my gift to all of the lovers in this world. Through it — my music, I know I will live forever."

through this idea of commitment, it is not the children who will remain forever. the reasoning for naturally birthing children in order to preserve your legacy is essentially false... if you are focusing solely on the existence of the children. what values have you instilled in them? these are the elements which are eternal.

it's like the music you mentioned. i prefer at this point to refer to them as lessons, as this represents a series of values. looking at this quote, it brought me back to when i was an adolescent, writing love poems for others. people questioned why i chose to write love poems for others, when i didn't have someone in my own life (i was an adolescent, mind you). when you wrote or performed the songs you did, it was assumed you were addressing the lyrics to a 'special lady', as opposed to simply presenting a "gift".

to me, having children bears a responsibility of assuring they become knowledgeable, independent and compassionate (sentient) beings... to be selfless, but not 'self-less'. they must know themselves. to ensure this does not require a direct blood lineage. sure, culturally, there are some factors in lineage which are imperative, but right now i am talking about values. again, in casting aspersions/making assumptions, we disregard or ignore this, and focus on whether or not you are the biological father to your three children.

with this, whether or not we knew each other in this life, i know we have known each other in some other life. i believe in the concept of 'deja vu'. when i began becoming acquainted with you and your teachings in this life, i know i was simply RE-acquainting myself. you were not new to me; but really, getting to know you in this time has certainly felt like a 're-birth', because i have learned so much about myself (by learning about you), as well as opening up to the possibilities of learning more.

"take me back where i belong..."

you have accepted me into your life, and i thank you for this. perhaps my commitment to your teachings is, in some ways, preparation for my commitment to be a parent, no matter how 'unconventional.'

...and these conversations with you also allow me to return to a place i don't necessarily turn to, due to my long-standing fear of rejection.

home. the heart.

"i wanna come home again." returning to that place of self-empowerment, that space of spontaneity and the potentiality for forgiveness.

"if you can find it in your heart to forgive me..."

it's been happening a lot more lately. i've been allowing the space to let love in. it's quite difficult to do on many levels. i've been trying to spend more time outdoors, and quality time with others whose company i appreciate. walking and bicycle riding and badminton playing, many things...

"take me back where i belong..."

that is with you, living within me. thank you.

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 73)

2010-07-25T23:09:00.000-07:00

what is it... what does it mean, to actually be in... love? i think i felt it for the first time this evening. again.

it's not the same as the romantic love you feel towards another person; where you make concerted efforts to connect, in hopes of a future together... granted, i was about 19 years old when i first explored the potentiality of falling 'in love' with another human. i mean, prior to the age of 19 i had 'crushes' on people, but never did i imagine i'd want to spend the rest of my life with these people. and of course the age of rejection did not just usher in at 19; however it was the first time i recall crying about it.

no, this feeling of love is much more than that. coincidentally, this feeling i am speaking of now also occurred when i was 19: this current moment hearkens back to listening to 'maiden voyage' and 'giant steps' (by hancock and coltrane, respectively) and forever falling in love with music. music was always surrounding me since i physically entered this earth; however, i never actually sat and LISTENED until this point of discovery.

discovery... i mean, you knew what you could do when you performed on that stage in pasadena in 1983... i'm sure you even knew that it was a technique that would capture attention, as it was the first time you were on your own; without your brothers at your side. i'm sure you knew that the coup would be in performing SOLO at a motown event. what i am NOT sure you knew was the amount of impact it would make.

considering your open critique of this moment, it was as if you didn't realize what had happened until this little white child approached you, entranced by your skills. ethnicity actually matters here; what you did on stage contributed to a lengthy lineage of black artists... you embodied the legacies of your ancestors and pieced together something which could be instantly recognizable by your own generation... with that, what you did could never be written in the confines of historical context, since it spans so many generations.

how many of us black folk have seen the backslide on soul train numerous times? how many in britain saw the jeffrey daniel performance a year prior, where he represented all of shalimar and performed this gravitational illusion? STILL, we collectively bolted with excitement as you asserted your independence. despite your well-documented struggles with the label which, outside of your father's management, trained you for the life in the business; you embodied that motown success story- a story not many could tell.

in one fell swoop you reached the goal motown strived for- to reach 'white america', and beyond. this is no small feat, considering the obvious history of this country and its institutional mannerisms. for someone to attain such a feat does not come without challenges and subsequent accusations of losing a sense of 'self/blackness'. still, you rose to the occasion.

i will be the first to admit that that 'motown 25 performance' (for lack of a better term) is not my favourite; in fact, whenever i watch you live it's one of those performances i tend to skip (except for the one in bucharest from the dangerous tour- that is the ONLY performance of 'billie jean' i will watch in its entirety). however, i do observe the evolution of your performance of the song. the confidence you exude the more you perform it is remarkable. with that, even though 'billie jean' is one of those live performances i tend to skip, i am fascinated with watching you with the sound off. in that respect the work of a teacher occurs, as you merge vaudeville, the chitlin' circuit, the streets, the cinema, and more, into your imagination. the dilemma exists when you're always expected to 'moonwalk', as opposed to representing the fluidity/universal nature of our creativity.

one of the greatest lessons we got was on the 1988 rendition of the grammy awards, where you performed a medley, concluding with 'man in the mirror'. those who have not seen you live (at that point on your first solo tour) have not seen the full impact of your teachings. but we all got a taste of it, when the choir came out.

as with 'billie jean' (and many others) i got frustrated when you lip synced- "what's wrong with him??!! that man can SING!!!" i cried. and so it goes... you did lip sync 'man in the mirror'- until the vamp at the end. what happened there was not a performance- it was a spiritual revelation (out of many). it was a call to action. it was a lesson. i don't know how many people took you up on this call to action; but i can tell you that many recognized your message.

watching 'billie jean' in silence i recognize that same energy; it's not 'magic' in a supernatural or fantastical way. it's a transformative energy. it's that connection with the ancestors which prevents stagnation.

i suspect looking at all of this is due to a culmination of experiences i had today. like, seeing a dragonfly up close for the first time ever- usually, they fly past you so quickly, right over your head... unfortunately, this dragonfly froze to the point of transition in the midst of travel. he was stuck on a piece of lettuce at my work. when i went outside to free him, he fell right to the ground.

rarely do you ever get to clearly see the wings of insects in flight... i got to recently see a film of a ladybug in flight, at half-speed. it was absolutely breathtaking. the strength in which the wings flapped appeared to belie the elegance and detail. having the opportunity to see a dragonfly's wings as he lay still fascinated me so. i had hoped that he would be able to wake up from the cold and proceed to search for his family, but that was not to be. and with that, i was able to marvel at his grace... with every transition is a birth.

this is the first time in a long time i have had the desire to explore the world outside of what is going on in my own mind... yes, i always have a desire to learn from others and their experiences; but this is the first summer in years, living here in portland, that i can recall just allowing myself to live spontaneously. i have found it so easy to not do that here, either due to work or some other responsibility. and weariness.

and yes, doing things like a little bicycle ride (outside of obligation), just because, helps a whole lot. it really does assist in how the brain processes things, when the brain meets with oxygen.

back inside from the ride, as i was writing this i decided to listen to some music. i decided to place on the turntable several songs which have been in my head the past number of days. in the midst of this one of your songs came up. of course.

this is another stage i am entering with you. one of many stages which have occurred spiritually, and subconsciously. i don't think this will be the final stage we encounter.

'i can't help it' was the song... it is, in fact, my favourite of yours. it is the greatest piece of modern popular music i have ever heard in my life. STEVIE WONDER contributing to its conception (along with susaye green) i'm sure is an aspect of this reasoning. i'm definitely sure of that. STEVIE being the creative father and you the son undoubtedly presents teachings which are timeless.

nevertheless, i put the 45 on; and suddenly this wave of energy flowed throughout my body in a way it hadn't with the other songs. it was a sort of electromagnetic energy occurring. it was pulling me up. it was as if a light i could not see was surrounding me.

it was the only song of yours i was listening to at that moment. this energy did not exist for me for the rest of the evening. to me, i was no longer listening to a song; it was true love i was listening to.

when i was at work earlier i was thinking a whole lot about music consisting purely of energy (this was inspired by beyonce being played, as well as the suggestion that gaga be put on a playlist). there was some music being played; sort of like a european techno type of music. as this was going on i thought of music consisting of waves of (vibrational) energy, affecting our moods and sensibilities. i recalled listening to loud, angry, aggressive music when i was younger, because that was the mindset i was in.

i began to think about how a song could represent true love and true anger. and then this moment happened. when that energy built up inside of me i no longer heard notes, but i saw vibrations. i saw them. it's the same way i feel when i watch you perform 'billie jean', with no sound. the song is so limiting in light of the energy which is produced from your movements.

tonight, just like fifteen years ago, i had the opportunity to see, and not just hear, a piece of music. i feel so fortunate to have fallen in love again. to see the intricacies of the wings, and to fly.

now that i think about it, it is not a 'falling' which occurs; in these transformative moments we are moving up with, and through, love.

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 72)

2010-07-24T22:53:00.000-07:00

is there something in 'thinking too much'? i mean; is there even such a thing as 'thinking too much'? it's like, every waking day my brain is filled with thoughts, until my body rests again. sometimes i have so many thoughts i have to digress, yet to return to the original place. is that 'too much'? or is that me just having to learn to how better organize these thoughts? i had to actually learn that quickly, when i decided to do radio.

of course, just like there's so much music in the world, there's so many thoughts. and as you know, how you reach the people is important. with this, i reach a point in frustration, not necessarily because i don't think i am reaching people (if you have reached one person, there is a potential for great positive change) but because sometimes i wonder if the message is clear.

it's really difficult for me to vocally communicate with people. (why do i do a medium like radio then? i have no idea). i always wish there was a way for me to convey the same exact thing through writing... i love to write so very much. even if you were physically here right now and we were talking i'd still write you really long letters, conveying my emotions. one time i wrote a friend of mine a 96-page letter (and yes, this was by hand)... as i said, there are so many thoughts in my head; sentences inspired by paragraphs, inspired by events. if i could spend time just listening to others, then responding in the written word i'd be perfectly happy. i don't articulate myself as well when i speak, and the words just flow better from my head when i write.

perhaps my desire to not speak has something to do with that spontaneity, in relation to vulnerability.

in many ways i'm actually more revealing when i write, but still i feel as if i am scrutinized more when i speak. i feel that people want more from me when i speak, and somehow that is taking something away from me. it all goes back to what we talked about a couple of days ago, i'm sure... that reverting back to the childhood fears.

is that something a therapist would help with? i don't know; i have seen quite a few throughout my life, and still these fears attach themselves to me. or rather, i allow them to.

one thing that has helped is being outside, where i get to indulge in play. i've not been wanting to sit here in my room all day. i can attribute part of this to having to get up so much earlier. when i finish work i want to spend time with lumbia, and i want to go and ride my bicycle. and i want to be with people. i need that spontaneity and companionship in my life again. these past few days i have been exploring worlds i knew nothing about, and learning about other people in these worlds.

i long for a time where i can just explore, where i can roam. emotionally i don't get to that place a lot (i have so many fears i have not even discussed with you here) but i try to say the mantra of every day alive being a good day... every step i take is a step i could make to get to this place. i am making a conscious effort this summer to take those steps.

with this, i give thought to your lament, upon reflecting on your childhood (or lack thereof). "it's been my fate to compensate for the childhood i've never known"... in a funny way, your plea for others to examine before they judge is apologetic... you are illustrating a world in which you indulge in (whether or not it's in your mind) but really, you shouldn't have to explain being yourself to anyone. ultimately though, the song is a call for others to look in their subconscious mirror; either for the child within, or for their own imperfections.

i have to remember this when i judge myself so harshly. i have to think- when i speak, someone is actually listening and engaging.

every day alive is a good day. a new day to explore, to learn, to continue to be myself, whether writing or speaking. to not have to compensate for any missing pieces. to know that thinking is sharing, and living.

thank you for sharing these lessons with me.

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 71)

2010-07-22T01:41:00.000-07:00

i was just tired but again, i cannot sleep... i've been writing myself to sleep as of late, as my body is still becoming used to this ever-altering schedule i am working with. i was on my way home, ready to resort to an evening of coconut yogurt eating and nap-taking (with possibly a short bicycle ride), and i see a friend of mine, who yells out my name from his car. it was a nice surprise to see him, as we made plans to do something together later this week. i always love these moments of spontaneity; i don't have them as much in my life these days, and as i said to you some time ago i miss those moments greatly.

we ended up going to eat a very nice dinner (at one of the few places i go out to eat- i love those people, and they appreciate you too! they always put on your music/lessons for me when i come in, it's very sweet); and we talked for many hours, watching the sun descend by the lake.

it is bewildering to me... we have known each other for a number of years and consider ourselves to be friends (friendship carries varying degrees but you know it when you see it), and this is the first time we've actually related to each other on such an intense level. as intense a person as i am, i must say that this frightened me. i realise this is an extreme word for the experience, but this is the only word i feel which can accurately describe my emotions surrounding this interaction.

i have an intense fear of these moments... everything i am saying is a contradiction. intensity is an aspect of spontaneity. for any sort of relationship to pro-actively grow, spontaneity is imperative. however, vulnerability frightens me. rejection frightens me. i hate getting too close to people because i always expect something bad to happen. that people will use or shun me. even though i share friendships with people of 15 years, either geography or gradual life events (like marriage) have given way to distance. my constant need for connection dominates the situation, and so i dive in. and then i realize what i then got myself into. and i become very tense.

this intensity leads to flashbacks, and the sad realization that i still have so much work to do on myself. and sometimes i hate it because it's as if i will never get better. i'm so much older, and i'm still like this frightened little girl who hates herself, and can't look at herself. why can't i just accept peoples' compliments? the back of my mind still reads the opposite. it digs at me that i have gotten so much better at so many other things in my life, and that is the one thing that is most difficult to accept, that someone can say something nice about me.

"if i did this i'd look/feel so much better..." it's not even about impressing people or trying to please anyone; if i did these certain things i would feel much better FOR ME. i hate when people look at me and sometimes i want to disappear. this is what vulnerability is like for me. it's as if everyone is ogling me. i remember always hiding my face when i was younger, never looking at people, my head poised downward. i still retain some of that to this day. i get uncomfortable when people look at me, in intense conversation.

in the midst of this intense conversation this evening i was near tears. i realize that, even though i have healed from much of what happened to me in some ways; it's extremely difficult to return to that space. without reverting back to that frightened little girl. it makes me realize i haven't healed as much as i think, or would like to. and so i sort of avoid going into details about certain events in my life, in order not to return to this space. i feel so trapped in my experience sometimes, and i truly hate it. it keeps me up at night sometimes. it guides how i view relationships in some ways as well.

it makes me think of when bashir interviewed you, pleading you to return to that space. it was painful to watch you describe what your father did to you. no child should ever have to go through that.

in so many ways though, as i shared aspects of myself with him (and allowed the vulnerability to occur), as he shared aspects of himself with me; simultaneously i felt your energy. i felt a closeness with you and in your teachings. again, i am thinking about your speech at oxford; in particular the part in which you speak on forgiveness.

the dilemma is, even though i have essentially forgiven my mother for what's happened over the years i still have yet to truly forgive myself. vulnerability is also a huge factor in the act of forgiveness.

i need to learn/know to. forgive. myself. thanks for giving me these moments to remind me.

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 70)

2010-07-21T00:54:00.000-07:00

anxieties abound... things, emotions change so rapidly, second by second. life is passing me by so quickly i would say, but that's not exactly what i want to say. i see three gray hairs on my head now (which makes me very happy, since i love gray hair). at the same time it's a reminder of me getting older. as i always speak of my hope of being that old lady with a house-full of cats; i become distressed (to afraid) that i'll never have children in my life.

newborns with their wide eyes...

i do want to get back to your eyes for a second. i had to run to go to the show last night but i really wanted to talk about your eyes. i'm struggling with what i want to say about them right now. because emotionally, i am cluttered, but not really. more than anything i feel emotionally overwhelmed. and i look at your eyes, these large, deep brown instruments of sadness; and i feel a sort of serenity right now. even though i see lifetimes of sorrow and fear through them (sometimes even screaming, 'don't hit me') through all of this i feel a wave of calmness lately.

ultimately, lifetimes are what i see through you. narratives one cannot even speak through voice. such beauty can only consist of boundless vibrations. i saw them, and it was as if they were the only thing that mattered.

even with your beauty, i see in a newborn's eyes what i have not seen in yours: sheer wonder. i have been meeting so many people who are new to the world, within days or weeks. their eyes are open so wide, exploring their surroundings, gauging to see if the outside world is as sympathetic to their experience. i so much as hear screams, cries and coos, i must run over and welcome the little one into this world, in my own way. some just stare, blinking; some smile and clap, drooling in a relaxed gesture. the variety of babies is so amazing, so fascinating... what's ultimately more fascinating is how, no matter how new one is to the world, the instinct to explore is immediately there. this aspect of life is so divine.

i have to do something. i have to be pro-active in my desire to have children in my life.

another day after work... i was walking down the street with the bicycle (and little michael in tow) and i was surrounded by several children (and an adult), who were fascinated with little michael. "that's michael!" they exclaimed. one of the smallest girls was especially curious, so i gave her little michael to hold. she played with the miniature bicycle wheels and mentioned how her scooter was pink. "and mine is green," i said.

another little girl asked, "do you remember me?" it was maureen, the little girl i had a conversation with a number of days ago.. she's such a sweet, smart and charming little girl (all of those kids are). i think she is going to the third grade in the fall. when i first met her she was discussing some of her favourite books. maureen couldn't remember my name, so i told her.

as i got on the bicycle to ride home i thought about how moments like that always make my day. and now i realize that this may be what i experience in order to honor my moments with children.

this is what i must remember. and what i also must remember is that these brief moments with you are always something to cherish, no matter how jumbled or anxious the situation is.

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 69)

2010-07-19T18:48:00.000-07:00

tonight i am getting ready to go out to see a show... i don't really go out to see shows too much these days (and being that i have to get up so early these days, i don't really go out at all). ironically, the last show i saw was the one we did in honor of you a few months back. for the show tonight though i got a 'ticket' by calling in a radio show. but i did wanna tell you this thing, really quickly.

the other day, a man came up to me and mentioned that someone i know told him he should speak with me. "she told me to tell you my michael jackson story," he smiled. yes you should, i exclaimed.

this man (who goes by the name of mike) did some antique dealing in a town in california. he told me he saw a huge bus, bigger than the average tour bus, pull up to the area. out you came, with two large latino security men. he specifically mentioned how the security men wore the finest pieces of clothes.

he then mentioned how he saw a man dressed up like a sheik- automatically coming to the conclusion that it was you. "aaaah, the 'sheik' period," i responded. "that was about the mid-90s or so?" (i actually met someone else who met you during this period as well, when you were in san francisco looking at record shops). mike said it was around this time. he mentioned that this was right before your speech at oxford; this would actually make this 2001 when you both met.

you told mike you were looking for art relating to child abuse for your presentation at oxford. he looked for what he could; he showed you various things in his collection. one item he said he did show you was an image of bing crosby in blackface. he did mention this to me matter-of-factly, but he also asked himself why he chose to show it to you.

"oh wow", you said... then you showed the image to the security men, to their consternation. i thought that was pretty funny when he told me this part of the story. i could totally see you, fascinated by this aspect of cinematic history, whether or not you agreed with the philosophy (ala walt disney)... i don't know if you found whatever it was you wanted to find, but mike definitely cherished your presence, it seems.

because you were dressed like a 'sheik', all mike could see was your eyes. he got a bit emotional when talking about your eyes. they were eyes of love, he said. there were a couple of more adjectives, but that is the word i definitely remember him mentioning. love. he could feel the love in your eyes. we spoke about the eyes being that mode of which vibration can be seen, about how you spoke through a series of vibrational energies, and how clear that could be for anyone who paid attention, or was in tune with that.

as you know, your eyes are my favourite thing about you, physically. they are the most beautiful eyes i have ever seen in my life. their sheer sadness astounds me. there is a beauty in those eyes; yet there's also a tragedy in how they could remain so sad over time.

here is the speech you gave at oxford, made in march of 2001. when i first heard it i was so touched. when i read the transcript some time later, my eyes teared up. you were given such a gift to reach people, and this was only one of the many. and as i mentioned to you before, you message became more urgent over time:

" Thank you, thank you dear friends, from the bottom of my heart, for such a loving and spirited welcome, and thank you, Mr President, for your kind invitation to me which I am so honoured to accept. I also want to express a special thanks to you Shmuley, who for 11 years served as Rabbi here at Oxford. You and I have been working so hard to form Heal the Kids, as well as writing our book about childlike qualities, and in all of our efforts you have been such a supportive and loving friend. And I would also like to thank Toba Friedman, our director of operations at Heal the Kids, who is returning tonight to the alma mater where she served as a Marshall scholar, as well as Marilyn Piels, another central member of our Heal the Kids team.

I am humbled to be lecturing in a place that has previously been filled by such notable figures as Mother Theresa, Albert Einstein, Ronald Reagan, Robert Kennedy and Malcolm X. I've even heard that Kermit the Frog has made an appearance here, and I've always felt a kinship with Kermit's message that it's not easy being green. I'm sure he didn't find it any easier being up here than I do!

As I looked around Oxford today, I couldn't help but be aware of the majesty and grandeur of this great institution, not to mention the brilliance of the great and gifted minds that have roamed these streets for centuries. The walls of Oxford have not only housed the greatest philosophical and scientific geniuses - they have also ushered forth some of the most cherished creators of children's literature, from J.R.R. Tolkien to CS Lewis. Today I was allowed to hobble into the dining hall in Christ Church to see Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland immortalised in the stained glass windows. And even one of my own fellow Americans, the beloved Dr Seuss graced these halls and then went on to leave his mark on the imaginations of millions of children throughout the world.

I suppose I should start by listing my qualifications to speak before you this evening. Friends, I do not claim to have the academic expertise of other speakers who have addressed this hall, just as they could lay little claim at being adept at the moonwalk - and you know, Einstein in particular was really TERRIBLE at that.

But I do have a claim to having experienced more places and cultures than most people will ever see. Human knowledge consists not only of libraries of parchment and ink - it is also comprised of the volumes of knowledge that are written on the human heart, chiseled on the human soul, and engraved on the human psyche. And friends, I have encountered so much in this relatively short life of mine that I still cannot believe I am only 42. I often tell Shmuley that in soul years I'm sure that I'm at least 80 - and tonight I even walk like I'm 80! So please harken to my message, because what I have to tell you tonight can bring healing to humanity and healing to our planet.

Through the grace of God, I have been fortunate to have achieved many of my artistic and professional aspirations realised early in my lifetime. But these, friends are accomplishments, and accomplishments alone are not synonymous with who I am. Indeed, the cheery five-year-old who belted out Rockin' Robin and Ben to adoring crowds was not indicative of the boy behind the smile.

Tonight, I come before you less as an icon of pop (whatever that means anyway), and more as an icon of a generation, a generation that no longer knows what it means to be children.

All of us are products of our childhood. But I am the product of a lack of a childhood, an absence of that precious and wondrous age when we frolic playfully without a care in the world, basking in the adoration of parents and relatives, where our biggest concern is studying for that big spelling test come Monday morning.

Those of you who are familiar with the Jackson Five know that I began performing at the tender age of five and that ever since then, I haven't stopped dancing or singing. But while performing and making music undoubtedly remain as some of my greatest joys, when I was young I wanted more than anything else to be a typical little boy. I wanted to build tree houses, have water balloon fights, and play hide and seek with my friends. But fate had it otherwise and all I could do was envy the laughter and playtime that seemed to be going on all around me.

There was no respite from my professional life. But on Sundays I would go Pioneering, the term used for the missionary work that Jehovah's Witnesses do. And it was then that I was able to see the magic of other people's childhood.

Since I was already a celebrity, I would have to don a disguise of fat suit, wig, beard and glasses and we would spend the day in the suburbs of Southern California, going door-to-door or making the rounds of shopping malls, distributing our Watchtower magazine. I loved to set foot in all those regular suburban houses and catch sight of the shag rugs and La-Z-Boy armchairs with kids playing Monopoly and grandmas baby-sitting and all those wonderful, ordinary and starry scenes of everyday life. Many, I know, would argue that these things seem like no big deal. But to me they were mesmerising.

I used to think that I was unique in feeling that I was without a childhood. I believed that indeed there were only a handful with whom I could share those feelings. When I recently met with Shirley Temple Black, the great child star of the 1930s and 40s, we said nothing to each other at first, we simply cried together, for she could share a pain with me that only others like my close friends Elizabeth Taylor and McCauley Culkin know.

I do not tell you this to gain your sympathy but to impress upon you my first important point : It is not just Hollywood child stars that have suffered from a non-existent childhood. Today, it's a universal calamity, a global catastrophe. Childhood has become the great casualty of modern-day living. All around us we are producing scores of kids who have not had the joy, who have not been accorded the right, who have not been allowed the freedom, or knowing what it's like to be a kid.

Today children are constantly encouraged to grow up faster, as if this period known as childhood is a burdensome stage, to be endured and ushered through, as swiftly as possible. And on that subject, I am certainly one of the world's greatest experts.

Ours is a generation that has witnessed the abrogation of the parent-child covenant. Psychologists are publishing libraries of books detailing the destructive effects of denying one's children the unconditional love that is so necessary to the healthy development of their minds and character. And because of all the neglect, too many of our kids have, essentially, to raise themselves. They are growing more distant from their parents, grandparents and other family members, as all around us the indestructible bond that once glued together the generations, unravels.

This violation has bred a new generation, Generation O let us call it, that has now picked up the torch from Generation X. The O stands for a generation that has everything on the outside - wealth, success, fancy clothing and fancy cars, but an aching emptiness on the inside. That cavity in our chests, that barrenness at our core, that void in our centre is the place where the heart once beat and which love once occupied.

And it's not just the kids who are suffering. It's the parents as well. For the more we cultivate little-adults in kids'-bodies, the more removed we ourselves become from our own child-like qualities, and there is so much about being a child that is worth retaining in adult life.

Love, ladies and gentlemen, is the human family's most precious legacy, its richest bequest, its golden inheritance. And it is a treasure that is handed down from one generation to another. Previous ages may not have had the wealth we enjoy. Their houses may have lacked electricity, and they squeezed their many kids into small homes without central heating. But those homes had no darkness, nor were they cold. They were lit bright with the glow of love and they were warmed snugly by the very heat of the human heart. Parents, undistracted by the lust for luxury and status, accorded their children primacy in their lives.

As you all know, our two countries broke from each other over what Thomas Jefferson referred to as "certain inalienable rights". And while we Americans and British might dispute the justice of his claims, what has never been in dispute is that children have certain inalienable rights, and the gradual erosion of those rights has led to scores of children worldwide being denied the joys and security of childhood.

I would therefore like to propose tonight that we install in every home a Children's Universal Bill of Rights, the tenets of which are:

1. The right to be loved without having to earn it

2. The right to be protected, without having to deserve it

3. The right to feel valuable, even if you came into the world with nothing

4. The right to be listened to without having to be interesting

5. The right to be read a bedtime story, without having to compete with the evening news

6. The right to an education without having to dodge bullets at schools

7. The right to be thought of as adorable - (even if you have a face that only a mother could love).

Friends, the foundation of all human knowledge, the beginning of human consciousness, must be that each and every one of us is an object of love. Before you know if you have red hair or brown, before you know if you are black or white, before you know of what religion you are a part, you have to know that you are loved.

About twelve years ago, when I was just about to start my Bad tour, a little boy came with his parents to visit me at home in California. He was dying of cancer and he told me how much he loved my music and me. His parents told me that he wasn't going to live, that any day he could just go, and I said to him: "Look, I am going to be coming to your town in Kansas to open my tour in three months. I want you to come to the show. I am going to give you this jacket that I wore in one of my videos." His eyes lit up and he said: "You are gonna GIVE it to me?" I said "Yeah, but you have to promise that you will wear it to the show." I was trying to make him hold on. I said: "When you come to the show I want to see you in this jacket and in this glove" and I gave him one of my rhinestone gloves - and I never usually give the rhinestone gloves away. And he was just in heaven.

But maybe he was too close to heaven, because when I came to his town, he had already died, and they had buried him in the glove and jacket. He was just 10 years old. God knows, I know, that he tried his best to hold on. But at least when he died, he knew that he was loved, not only by his parents, but even by me, a near stranger, I also loved him. And with all of that love he knew that he didn't come into this world alone, and he certainly didn't leave it alone.

If you enter this world knowing you are loved and you leave this world knowing the same, then everything that happens in between can he dealt with. A professor may degrade you, but you will not feel degraded, a boss may crush you, but you will not be crushed, a corporate gladiator might vanquish you, but you will still triumph. How could any of them truly prevail in pulling you down? For you know that you are an object worthy of love. The rest is just packaging.

But if you don't have that memory of being loved, you are condemned to search the world for something to fill you up. But no matter how much money you make or how famous you become, you will still fell empty. What you are really searching for is unconditional love, unqualified acceptance. And that was the one thing that was denied to you at birth.

Friends, let me paint a picture for you. Here is a typical day in America - six youths under the age of 20 will commit suicide, 12 children under the age of 20 will die from firearms - remember this is a DAY, not a year - 399 kids will be arrested for drug abuse, 1,352 babies will be born to teen mothers. This is happening in one of the richest, most developed countries in the history of the world.

Yes, in my country there is an epidemic of violence that parallels no other industrialised nation. These are the ways young people in America express their hurt and their anger. But don't think that there is not the same pain and anguish among their counterparts in the United Kingdom. Studies in this country show that every single hour, three teenagers in the UK inflict harm upon themselves, often by cutting or burning their bodies or taking an overdose. This is how they have chosen to cope with the pain of neglect and emotional agony.

In Britain, as many as 20% of families will only sit down and have dinner together once a year. Once a year! And what about the time-honoured tradition of reading your kid a bedtime story? Research from the 1980s showed that children who are read to, had far greater literacy and significantly outperformed their peers at school. And yet, less than 33% of British children ages two to eight have a regular bedtime story read to them. You may not think much of that until you take into account that 75% of their parents DID have that bedtime story when they were that age.

Clearly, we do not have to ask ourselves where all of this pain, anger and violent behaviour comes from. It is self-evident that children are thundering against the neglect, quaking against the indifference and crying out just to be noticed. The various child protection agencies in the US say that millions of children are victims of maltreatment in the form of neglect, in the average year. Yes, neglect. In rich homes, privileged homes, wired to the hilt with every electronic gadget. Homes where parents come home, but they're not really home, because their heads are still at the office. And their kids? Well, their kids just make do with whatever emotional crumbs they get. And you don't get much from endless TV, computer games and videos.

These hard, cold numbers which for me, wrench the soul and shake the spirit, should indicate to you why I have devoted so much of my time and resources into making our new Heal the Kids initiative a colossal success.

Our goal is simple - to recreate the parent/child bond, renew its promise and light the way forward for all the beautiful children who are destined one day to walk this earth.

But since this is my first public lecture, and you have so warmly welcomed me into your hearts, I feel that I want to tell you more. We each have our own story, and in that sense statistics can become personal.

They say that parenting is like dancing. You take one step, your child takes another. I have discovered that getting parents to re-dedicate themselves to their children is only half the story. The other half is preparing the children to re-accept their parents.

When I was very young I remember that we had this crazy mutt of a dog named "Black Girl," a mix of wolf and retriever. Not only wasn't she much of a guard dog, she was such a scared and nervous thing that it is a wonder she did not pass out every time a truck rumbled by, or a thunderstorm swept through Indiana. My sister Janet and I gave that dog so much love, but we never really won back the sense of trust that had been stolen from her by her previous owner. We knew he used to beat her. We didn't know with what. But whatever it was, it was enough to suck the spirit right out of that dog.

A lot of kids today are hurt puppies who have weaned themselves off the need for love. They couldn't care less about their parents. Left to their own devices, they cherish their independence. They have moved on and have left their parents behind.

Then there are the far worse cases of children who harbour animosity and resentment toward their parents, so that any overture that their parents might undertake would be thrown forcefully back in their face.

Tonight, I don't want any of us to make this mistake. That's why I'm calling upon all the world's children - beginning with all of us here tonight - to forgive our parents, if we felt neglected. Forgive them and teach them how to love again.

You probably weren't surprised to hear that I did not have an idyllic childhood. The strain and tension that exists in my relationship with my own father is well documented. My father is a tough man and he pushed my brothers and me hard, from the earliest age, to be the best performers we could be.

He had great difficulty showing affection. He never really told me he loved me. And he never really complimented me either. If I did a great show, he would tell me it was a good show. And if I did an OK show, he told me it was a lousy show.

He seemed intent, above all else, on making us a commercial success. And at that he was more than adept. My father was a managerial genius and my brothers and I owe our professional success, in no small measure, to the forceful way that he pushed us. He trained me as a showman and under his guidance I couldn't miss a step.

But what I really wanted was a Dad. I wanted a father who showed me love. And my father never did that. He never said I love you while looking me straight in the eye, he never played a game with me. He never gave me a piggyback ride, he never threw a pillow at me, or a water balloon.

But I remember once when I was about four years old, there was a little carnival and he picked me up and put me on a pony. It was a tiny gesture, probably something he forgot five minutes later. But because of that moment I have this special place in my heart for him. Because that's how kids are, the little things mean so much to them and for me, that one moment meant everything. I only experienced it that one time, but it made me feel really good, about him and the world.

But now I am a father myself, and one day I was thinking about my own children, Prince and Paris and how I wanted them to think of me when they grow up. To be sure, I would like them to remember how I always wanted them with me wherever I went, how I always tried to put them before everything else. But there are also challenges in their lives. Because my kids are stalked by paparazzi, they can't always go to a park or a movie with me.

So what if they grow older and resent me, and how my choices impacted their youth? Why weren't we given an average childhood like all the other kids, they might ask? And at that moment I pray that my children will give me the benefit of the doubt. That they will say to themselves: "Our daddy did the best he could, given the unique circumstances that he faced. He may not have been perfect, but he was a warm and decent man, who tried to give us all the love in the world."

I hope that they will always focus on the positive things, on the sacrifices I willingly made for them, and not criticise the things they had to give up, or the errors I've made, and will certainly continue to make, in raising them. For we have all been someone's child, and we know that despite the very best of plans and efforts, mistakes will always occur. That's just being human.

And when I think about this, of how I hope that my children will not judge me unkindly, and will forgive my shortcomings, I am forced to think of my own father and despite my earlier denials, I am forced to admit that me must have loved me. He did love me, and I know that.

There were little things that showed it. When I was a kid I had a real sweet tooth - we all did. My favourite food was glazed doughnuts and my father knew that. So every few weeks I would come downstairs in the morning and there on the kitchen counter was a bag of glazed doughnuts - no note, no explanation - just the doughnuts. It was like Santa Claus.

Sometimes I would think about staying up late at night, so I could see him leave them there, but just like with Santa Claus, I didn't want to ruin the magic for fear that he would never do it again. My father had to leave them secretly at night, so as no one might catch him with his guard down. He was scared of human emotion, he didn't understand it or know how to deal with it. But he did know doughnuts.

And when I allow the floodgates to open up, there are other memories that come rushing back, memories of other tiny gestures, however imperfect, that showed that he did what he could. So tonight, rather than focusing on what my father didn't do, I want to focus on all the things he did do and on his own personal challenges. I want to stop judging him.

I have started reflecting on the fact that my father grew up in the South, in a very poor family. He came of age during the Depression and his own father, who struggled to feed his children, showed little affection towards his family and raised my father and his siblings with an iron fist. Who could have imagined what it was like to grow up a poor black man in the South, robbed of dignity, bereft of hope, struggling to become a man in a world that saw my father as subordinate. I was the first black artist to be played on MTV and I remember how big a deal it was even then. And that was in the 80s!

My father moved to Indiana and had a large family of his own, working long hours in the steel mills, work that kills the lungs and humbles the spirit, all to support his family. Is it any wonder that he found it difficult to expose his feelings? Is it any mystery that he hardened his heart, that he raised the emotional ramparts? And most of all, is it any wonder why he pushed his sons so hard to succeed as performers, so that they could be saved from what he knew to be a life of indignity and poverty?

I have begun to see that even my father's harshness was a kind of love, an imperfect love, to be sure, but love nonetheless. He pushed me because he loved me. Because he wanted no man ever to look down at his offspring.

And now with time, rather than bitterness, I feel blessing. In the place of anger, I have found absolution. And in the place of revenge I have found reconciliation. And my initial fury has slowly given way to forgiveness.

Almost a decade ago, I founded a charity called Heal the World. The title was something I felt inside me. Little did I know, as Shmuley later pointed out, that those two words form the cornerstone of Old Testament prophecy. Do I really believe that we can heal this world, that is riddled with war and genocide, even today? And do I really think that we can heal our children, the same children who can enter their schools with guns and hatred and shoot down their classmates, like they did at Columbine? Or children who can beat a defenceless toddler to death, like the tragic story of Jamie Bulger? Of course I do, or I wouldn't be here tonight.

But it all begins with forgiveness, because to heal the world, we first have to heal ourselves. And to heal the kids, we first have to heal the child within, each and every one of us. As an adult, and as a parent, I realise that I cannot be a whole human being, nor a parent capable of unconditional love, until I put to rest the ghosts of my own childhood.

And that's what I'm asking all of us to do tonight. Live up to the fifth of the Ten Commandments. Honour your parents by not judging them. Give them the benefit of the doubt.

That is why I want to forgive my father and to stop judging him. I want to forgive my father, because I want a father, and this is the only one that I've got. I want the weight of my past lifted from my shoulders and I want to be free to step into a new relationship with my father, for the rest of my life, unhindered by the goblins of the past.

In a world filled with hate, we must still dare to hope. In a world filled with anger, we must still dare to comfort. In a world filled with despair, we must still dare to dream. And in a world filled with distrust, we must still dare to believe.

To all of you tonight who feel let down by your parents, I ask you to let down your disappointment. To all of you tonight who feel cheated by your fathers or mothers, I ask you not to cheat yourself further. And to all of you who wish to push your parents away, I ask you to extend you hand to them instead. I am asking you, I am asking myself, to give our parents the gift of unconditional love, so that they too may learn how to love from us, their children. So that love will finally be restored to a desolate and lonely world.

Shmuley once mentioned to me an ancient Biblical prophecy which says that a new world and a new time would come, when "the hearts of the parents would be restored through the hearts of their children". My friends, we are that world, we are those children.

Mahatma Gandhi said: "The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong." Tonight, be strong. Beyond being strong, rise to the greatest challenge of all - to restore that broken covenant. We must all overcome whatever crippling effects our childhoods may have had on our lives and in the words of Jesse Jackson, forgive each other, redeem each other and move on.

This call for forgiveness may not result in Oprah moments the world over, with thousands of children making up with their parents, but it will at least be a start, and we'll all be so much happier as a result.

And so ladies and gentlemen, I conclude my remarks tonight with faith, joy and excitement.

From this day forward, may a new song be heard.

Let that new song be the sound of children laughing.

Let that new song be the sound of children playing.

Let that new song be the sound of children singing.

And let that new song be the sound of parents listening.

Together, let us create a symphony of hearts, marveling at the miracle of our children and basking in the beauty of love.

Let us heal the world and blight its pain.

And may we all make beautiful music together.

God bless you, and I love you."

this is especially chilling: "I have encountered so much in this relatively short life of mine that I still cannot believe I am only 42." because you really were so young. and it was as if you lived for lifetimes. but you have, and you will continue to.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOU HAVE DONE, AND TAUGHT ME, AND CONTINUE TO. it takes a very long time to heal from much of the pain we have experienced, but this speech clearly was a part of a long journey, which you chose to share with us.

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 68)

2010-07-16T18:49:00.000-07:00

at work, just like at home, i get to take a lot of insects outside... i don't like killing them really. i also realize that many insects serve their purposes in the natural order of things (like making honey, eating mosquitoes, etc.). living here in oregon i see so many species i have never seen in my life i just always take them outside.

with that, i always think about if they will survive the elements outside. i'm not really sure how a lot of them survive inside... i am always curious to find where the anthill begins, and where they lead to; where the moths get their food in the house; where spiders go throughout the day to forage, when they are not resting in their nests.

i have also been curious about the little baby insects you see around- when were they born, and in what condition? do the insects cry in birth sometimes like humans do? do they know their mother or father? how do they get around in such a big world, as small as they are?

i'm not trying to make a case for anthropomorphizing insects (or other species); i do know that, like every other species on earth everybody wants respect and nourishment.

and freedom. to fly. to be free from constraints.

it's hard being a parent, i know it is. and as a parent you want to be able to do the right thing, and know your children are going to grow into respectable, independent people. you want to encourage their curiosity, but you also want to protect them. every parent has their own medium- some adapt better than others; and yet it seems as if this line is a commonality between parents all over the world.

at this point i see a child yelling with joy (or even shedding some tears), and i feel as if that's what i want in my life right now.... that growing need to nurture and protect a child. i think i always wanted kids, so i could raise them better than how i grew up. "i'm not gonna yell at them and call them ugly and stupid." back then i had a dire need for validation; i needed to know that i could be worthy of motherhood. that i could prove i was good at something. these days, it's not so much wanting validation than really feeling my nurturing side kick in heavily. i see so many little ones, and it kills me that i'm not yet there. it kills me even more when the parents of these children say, "you are so great with kids, you'd be a great mother." i have been asked a couple of times if i was a mother. i have been around babies so much that at times i can recognize the different types of cries and gestures.

i know that i still struggle with 'not wanting to be like my mother'. i love my mother dearly, and she's had struggles herself. still, i think about how i grew up with her, and i have this huge fear about motherhood. i don't want to resemble my mother in that way.

even though i sense some sort of anger with your mother through looking at your body language over the years (i think this is the experience, from a child to a mother at times); i also see a sense of nurturing and protection with her as well.

granted, you may have seen some of your father in yourself (in terms of genes); however, as i have said before you strongly resemble your mother. i don't see any of your father there, as i do with the rest of your brothers. i also notice that when you are around her, when you are not being the nurturing type you appear more upright, stoic.

as independent of a spirit you were; no matter how independent of a spirit someone is there are things so difficult to escape.

when i see you alone with your father i see the exact opposite. you appear so much smaller, and distant. the little bit of light in your eyes you had has suddenly diminished. your body is tense, and struggling to gain some sort of approval or recognition as a sentient being.

i didn't grow up in your house, but what i see from you is just a request for your father to simply say, "i love you son." just as your father, not as 'the man who raised michael jackson (tm)'. i get it. i grew up wanting to be hugged when i was growing up. my mother always said, "get away from me." what ended up happening was that i most likely became so starved for that i overstepped my boundaries on occasion. i didn't even realize what i was doing until a friend brought it to my attention. it really hurt to hear but i had to acknowledge that there were some things i needed to work on. i think how i relate to people these days is a bit healthier. there are definitely some things i still need to work on. this may take a lifetime. my mother does tell me she loves me now, and it is a nice thing to hear.

has there ever been a time where your father told you he loved you, when you were on this plane? do you know if he ever said it when you moved to where you are now?

did you ever have fears that when raising your children you would end up like your own father?

i can only imagine how often you told your kids you loved them... more times than i can even count, i'm sure.

this is what photographer john wright had to say about you: "my abiding memory is how polite he was - forgetting everything that's gone on, if you were his parents, you'd be proud of how you'd brought him up."

either that old-school southern sort of parenting influenced how you were brought up, or, like me, you were just scared. i spent so much of my life as a quiet kid. even though i did go out and had friends i was always known as the 'quiet kid', where people had to ask me to speak up. in comparison my sister was rambunctious and beat me up almost every day. some of the things i heard your father did to you, my sister did to me. i got the physical (mostly) from my sister, and some of the physical (and mostly mental) from my mother.

so i just stayed quiet, and i was the 'nice sister'.

these things stay with you. i know i'm not always the nicest person (my mood shifts when i am tired, hungry, or some variation of irritable) and i'm not too great at pretending to have 'small talk' or be the nicest person when i am in that space. i do do my best in realizing that everyone has a story though, and what people do want is respect. a lot of people in my experience out here don't demand it though- it's as if they ask permission in order to have it. but that's a whole other story, possibly to do with ANOTHER side of parenting.

nevertheless, how so many of us grow up; it does stay with us.

i keep thinking about the statement i think grace rwaramba made: that you felt your biggest accomplishment was your children. i have to admit, i marvel at your role as a father; not because it's any surprise . i think you've gotten a lot of practise, being around so many children, and even bubbles. but i see how you hold your children, and it's totally different from how you've held all the other children throughout your journey. i see as well, how you marvel at their existence, allowing them to explore their environment, once in a while telling them not to make so much noise during an interview.

it is this quality you have taken after your mother as well: the maternal. i see nothing wrong with a man carrying those 'maternal instincts'. obviously there are things you cannot provide to your children, in the natural course of things, as a biological male. and i wouldn't even say that you've taken on a role as a mother. it seems to me though, that you've raised them with enough of a balance. it's difficult to explain. we're back to the 'gray area' we spoke about yesterday.

i just see that this is something you've wanted to do for so much of your life; it's so clear when i see you with them. i do think it was smart of you to wait when you were older; you had them at a point you were releasing art/teachings that were more reflective. 'invincible' is one of my favourite albums of yours, due to this point. fatherhood was so evident, as well as a number of years of triumphs and losses. 'HIStory', for me, was the realization of this period; the inception of where you clearly, artistically pondered the state of your life in ways not yet seen. it was as if life could be taken away from you at any moment (not necessarily in physical form), and you still had something to contribute to the world. it was as if time was running out for you, and you wanted to be able to fulfill a dream you've had for so long.

the biggest accomplishment.

i'm not even explaining it in the way i really want to, so i hope you understand. i see you with them, and you look so much wiser beyond your years, as they say. i see something in you i hadn't seen before. i see serenity (despite all the madness). i see a maturity that seems to only exist in parenthood. most importantly, i see light in your eyes.

i have thought about what it was like for them, having you as a working father... not just ANY working father, but one who consistently had cameras shoved in his face. did they feel like they had to clamor for your attention? did they feel as if you were being taken away from them sometimes?

and even though you're not physically here with them right now, i know they will retain a lot of the qualities you brought them up with. and they, more than anybody, will know you as just a man; a man who was a father to them. in the end, all those cameras and lights do not matter. what DOES matter is the love you gave to them. more than anything, they were loved.

and so were, and are, you.

-jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 67)

2010-07-15T20:12:00.000-07:00

it makes me so sad to be here sometimes... living in a place where, even though 'free expression' is encouraged, it seems so wrapped in a nice little bow. 'weirdness' seems to be a badge of honor. "keep portland weird" they say. the question is, who gets to define what that is? is dressing up like a pirate, or riding around on a bicycle naked 'weird', when there are places and days designated to do those things? when communities are formed around these sorts of activities, is that really strange?

the concept of 'weirdness' is only in the mind.

it's interesting. because i feel that so many of my belief systems lie in 'traditionalism'; i admire the concept of the family, be it extended or nuclear; i love children. i love just being at home, reading. i also feel that it's a traditional thing to question what ends up in your face. because of the instantaneous nature of media and how information is distributed, it's set up where we're not really encouraged to question sources. even if i agree with you, it's nice to know where you got your concepts from.

in this way it can be a bit isolating as well... people whose philosophies lie outside of the 'two-party system' still can be questioned. no political philosophy is immune from critique. there's corruption in aspects of all of these systems. there's also not necessarily an awareness of how times and communities have changed. with that, because at this point in my life i don't hold an absolute belief about any of these systems i get into quite a bit of dis-agreements.

i'm so tired of this conditioning: that we have to choose sides, even though so much to life has those 'gray areas'. granted, i am extremely opinionated... i do realize i'm not the only person who lives on this plane though.

i could, again, only imagine that's how you felt. not politically, necessarily... well yes, that too. it was as if you lived that 'double existence' that w.e.b. du bois referred to. not only as a black man who lived in this country, but as a black man who was expected to appeal to the world. it's an anomaly for any black person to retain roots AND be able to reach the world. that we can openly speak of injustice to black people in this country without hatred STILL becomes branded with a label of 'reaching too far', 'being too sensitive', or of course, 'racist'.

there's never a gray area for most of us; and there never seemed to be one for you. it's either shuck and jive... sing and dance or do nothing at all. heaven forbid you SPEAK! when you began to speak about certain issues- when you made the decision to not apologize for your views, even through dance (which is what they wanted you to do, right?), you were forced to apologize, living in that 'double existence'.

so i take back what i said, sort of. the gray area is reserved for someone like yourself, who's not supposed to take a stand on anything, except for 'be nice to everybody' and stuff like that. with that you are never supposed to see the gradations in your own life which make you into who you are. you're supposed to be what they created you to be, which IS a mesh of gray: a person with no true voice.

so many are not aware of any work you do behind the outcome of the product, because we are not supposed to know... we aren't supposed to know the power struggles and the isolation.

what i DON'T take back is the rest of us (and this includes the part of you which is supposed to be repressed): we are supposed to take sides. if we don't than we are not black enough, not loyal enough; or, because we do hold some sort of questioning points of view 'think (we) are too good', we are 'uppity'.

i know we have been in this place before, but it just keeps returning... life is cyclical, but it doesn't cease just because one end has met the other at one point.

i thought of the zulu nation and its philosophy of respect and cultural awareness, and knowing that this philosophy can be applied worldwide. we are a universal people.

this is the universal zulu nation mission:

"The Universal Zulu Nation stands for knowledge, wisdom, understanding, freedom, justice, equality, peace, unity, love, respect, work, fun, overcoming the negative, economics, mathematics, science, life, truth facts, faith, and the oneness of God."

and:

"We believe in power, education in truth, freedom, justice, equality, work for the people, and the upliftment of the people."

this is about the search for TRUTH. THE truth, based in love.

really, i don't see your message as being so far off. we are a universal people.

here are most of the principles of the zulu nation, combined with the temple of hip hop/KRS ONE... i didn't put the first principle, as it related directly to hip hop culture/kulture; these other principles i felt were very much in line with how you lived your life on many levels.

#2: Hiphop Kulture respects the dignity and sanctity of life without discrimination or prejudice. Hiphoppas shall thoroughly consider the protection and the development of life, over and before the individual decision to destroy or seek to alter its natural development.

#3: Hiphop Kulture respects the Laws and agreements of its culture, its country, its institutions and whomever it does business with. Hiphop does not irresponsibly break Laws and commitments.

#4: Hiphop is a term that describes our independent collective consciousness. As a conscious way of life, we acknowledge our influence on society, especially on children; and we shall forever keep the rights and welfare of both in mind. Hiphop Kulture encourages womanhood, manhood, sisterhood, brotherhood, childhood and family. We are conscious not to bring any intentional disrespect that jeopardizes the dignity and reputation of our children, elders and ancestors.

#5: The ability to define, defend and educate ourselves is encouraged, developed, preserved, protected and promoted as a means toward peace and prosperity, and toward the protection and the development of our self-worth. Through knowledge of purpose and the development of our natural and learned skills, Hiphoppas are encouraged to always present their best work and ideas.

#6: Hiphop Kulture honors no relationship, person, event, act or otherwise wherein the preservation and further development of Hiphop's culture, principles and elements are not considered or respected. Hiphop Kulture does not participate in activities that clearly destroy or alter its ability to productively and peacefully exist. Hiphoppas are encouraged to initiate and participate in fair trade and honesty in all negotiations and transactions.

#7: The essence of Hiphop is beyond entertainment: The elements of Hiphop Kulture may be traded for money, honor, power, respect, food, shelter, information and other resources; however, Hiphop and its culture cannot be bought, nor is it for sale. It (Hiphop) cannot be transferred or exchanged by or to anyone for any compensation at any time or at any place. Hiphop is not a product. Hiphop is the priceless principle of our self-empowerment.

#8: Companies, corporations, non and not-for-profit organizations, as well as individuals and groups that are clearly benefiting from the use, interpretation and/or exploitation of the term Hiphop, (i.e. Hip Hop, hip-hop,) and the expressions and terminologies of Hiphop, (i.e. Hip Hop, hip-hop,) are encouraged to commission and/or employ a full-time or part-time certified Hiphop Kultural Specialist to interpret and answer sensitive cultural questions regarding the principles and proper presentations of Hiphop’s elements and culture; relative to businesses, individuals, organizations, communities, cities, as well as other countries.

#9: May 3rd is Rap Music Day. Hiphoppas are encouraged to dedicate their own time and talent to self-development and for service to their communities. Every third week in May is Hiphop Appreciation Week. During this time, Hiphoppas are encouraged to honor their ancestors, reflect upon their cultural contributions and appreciate the elements and principles of Hiphop Kulture. November is Hiphop History Month. During this time Hiphoppas are encouraged to participate in the creating, learning and honoring of Hiphop's history and historical cultural contributors.

#10: Hiphoppas are encouraged to build meaningful and lasting relationships that rest upon Love, trust, equality and respect. Hiphoppas are encouraged not to cheat, abuse, or deceive their friends.

#11: The Hiphop community exists as an international culture of consciousness that provides all races, tribes, religions and styles of people a foundation for the communication of their best ideas and works. Hiphop Kulture is united as one multi-skilled, multi-cultural, multi-faith, multi-racial people committed to the establishment and the development of peace.

#12: Hiphop Kulture does not intentionally or voluntarily participate in any form of hate, deceit, prejudice or theft at any time. At no time shall Hiphop Kulture engage in any violent war within itself. Those who intentionally violate the principles of this Declaration of Peace or intentionally reject its advice, forfeit by their own actions the protections set forth herein.

#13: Hiphop Kulture rejects the immature impulse for unwarranted acts of violence and always seeks diplomatic, non-violent strategies in the settlement of all disputes. Hiphoppas are encouraged to consider forgiveness and understanding before any act of retaliation. War is reserved as a final solution when there is evidence that all other means of diplomatic negotiation have failed repeatedly.

#14: Hiphoppas are encouraged to eliminate poverty, speak out against injustice and shape a more caring society and a more peaceful world. Hiphop Kulture supports a dialogue and action that heals divisions in society, addresses the legitimate concerns of humankind and advances the cause of peace.

#15: Hiphoppas respect and learn from the ways of Nature, regardless of where we are on this planet. Hiphop Kulture holds sacred our duty to contribute to our own survival as independent, free-thinking beings in and throughout the Universe. This planet, commonly known as Earth is our nurturing parent and Hiphoppas are encouraged to respect Nature and all creations and inhabitants of Nature.

#16: Hiphop's pioneers, legends, teachas, elders, and ancestors shall not be inaccurately quoted, misrepresented, or disrespected at anytime. No one should profess to be a Hiphop pioneer or legend unless they can prove with facts and/or witnesses their credibility and contributions to Hiphop Kulture.

#17: Hiphoppas are encouraged to share resources. Hiphoppas should give as freely and as often as possible. It is the duty of every Hiphoppa to assist, whenever possible, in the relief of human suffering and in the correction of injustice. Hiphop is shown the highest respect when Hiphoppas respect each other. Hiphop Kulture is preserved, nurtured and developed when Hiphoppas preserve, nurture and develop one another.

#18: Hiphop Kulture maintains a healthy, caring and wealthy, central Hiphop guild – fully aware and invested with the power to promote, teach, interpret, modify and defend the principles of this Hiphop Declaration of Peace.

it is about respect, honoring your ancestors, and love. it's about embracing a sense of self, and honoring who YOU are, despite the cries of 'weirdo' (or in your case, 'wacko'). it's about allowing those 'gray areas' to come in, and acknowledging that none of us are perfect. we all have something to contribute to this plane, but we must focus on the positive/pro-active.

something really crazy happened today. today was one of those rare days i did not have to work, and i decided to run around and do a few errands. i went to the post office to pick up mail, and as i was getting ready to leave, a young man walks out and sees the little michael doll i have (which someone gave to me almost three years ago). little michael was perched on the little bicycle he sits on (someone i know surprised me and attached the bicycle to my own. "now he can ride with you all day" she wrote).

"oh! is that a michael jackson doll?!" he asked. yes, i exclaim. "he goes everywhere with me." he told me how he used to have a doll of your likeness; we talk a little bit about dolls. he asked if i was still grieving. he seemed concerned. i told him i wasn't because you were now in a better place. he then told me how he was in the pepsi commercial with you in 1984. he mentioned that he was the kid who handed the can to alfonso ribeiro. "we have to talk", i said. "we have to talk."

i couldn't explain everything to him right away, what you mean to me and everything. i don't think i could dump all that on someone within seconds of meeting them. i suppose it depends on the situation. but right there was not the right time.

his eyes then lit up because he mentioned new york, referring to the filming of the commercial. he grew up there, he said. brooklyn. "I'M from new york!" i responded. he revealed he was from bed stuy. just like me!!! it felt like such a rich reunion, without even really knowing him... it's always lovely to meet people here in portland, from new york city. we both mused on people saying we are mean, because we're up front with who we are. he mentioned how he was part of the zulu nation; and we discovered that we knew some of the same people, as portland is not that big of a place.

everything is circular.

as we bid our farewells i smiled at such a fortunate moment. it seemed unreal, that this person could live here. and THEN to be involved in such an experience with you as well. it just seems very unreal. you were a part of this experience, michael. i think this was part of your message, to present that connectivity in unexpected places. we just have to be open to it.

again, thank you. always.

i love you very much,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 66)

2010-07-13T20:46:00.000-07:00

"it doesn't matter if we're in the apocalyptic end times; we have to carry on with the spirit of our lives."

when i was having the conversation with you last night i heard this statement, made by mr. walt curtis, who is an elder in the poetry community here in portland. he hosts a radio show, and he said this during the show. i know you being raised as a jehovah's witness (and still following some of that sentiment) i know you're quite familiar with the philosophy of the 'end times'... you also made this pretty clear in some of your teachings on record, and the whole 'we have four years to get it right' statement, which was presented on 'this is it'.

as you also know, it states in the book of revelation (the final book in the bible) that before the end, there will be a time of relative calm, or peace. with all of this destruction, these de-population efforts and oppression it seems as if there will never be any peace.

i am not as astute a student of the bible as you. granted, i grew up presbyterian (and even went to lutheran school). i am a huge critic of what that stands for, considering the connection between martin luther (NOT the king) and the crusades... however, for what it's worth, i do find reading the bible to be an interesting experience. i'm not going to pretend that the bible consists of 'the truth'- we must acknowledge that when a book is re-interpreted over and over and used to disparage groups of people (as well as leaving AFRICA out of the picture in mainstream biblical discussions), it all comes down to perception. if the twelve tribes of israel are descendants of jacob, wouldn't that mean that israel geographically has to be associated with the cradle of civilisation that is africa? at this point israel is still considered to be located in the 'middle east', so...

the treatment of ethiopian jews (some who actually ARE direct descendants), the relentless murder of unarmed palestinians (and those who choose to bring awareness to the issue), as well as the embargo- the inability for them to receive proper provisions; and national identification issues in israel today are uncalled for. the issues have gotten to be more political than spiritual.

but i digress...

truthfully, i do not read the bible in terms of receiving absolute guidance. when i open it i recognize the bible to consist of a set of parables. for this book to be re-interpreted consistently to fit our times, it cannot contain 'the truth'. i do think the bible's intentions are very clear- to translate to us a set of moral codes. if we follow these codes verbatim as written, then we have violated one of the major guidelines: ALWAYS. QUESTION. YOUR. TEACHER. teachings are a model, not an absolute. each of our circumstances are different, so the teachings cannot possibly apply to everyone in the same way.

in line with mr. curtis' quote, the book of revelation instantly jumped in my mind. so i opened it up. with everything happening for a reason, the page i turned to happened to be on chapter 12.

so... we can look at this one piece in particular, all 17 verses:

"And there appeared a great wonder in Heaven; a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve stars:

And she being with child cried, travailing in birth, and pained to be delivered.

And there appeared another wonder in Heaven; and behold a great red dragon, having seven heads and ten horns, and seven crowns upon his heads.

And his tail drew the third part of the stars of heaven, and did cast them to the earth: and the dragon stood before the woman which was ready to be delivered, for to devour her child as soon as it was born.

And she brought forth a man child, who was to rule all nations with a rod of iron: and her child was caught up unto God, and to his throne.

And the woman fled into the wilderness, where she hath a place prepared of God, that they should feed her there a thousand two hundred and threescore days.

And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels,

And prevailed not; neither was their place found any more in heaven.

And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him.

And I heard a loud voice saying in heaven, Now is come salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the power of his Christ: for the accuser of our brethren is cast down, which accused them before our God day and night.

And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony; and they loved not their lives unto the death.

Therefore rejoice, ye heavens, and ye that dwell in them. Woe to the inhabiters of the earth and of the sea! for the devil is come down unto you, having great wrath, because he knoweth that he hath but a short time.

And when the dragon saw that he was cast unto the earth, he persecuted the woman which brought forth the man child.

And to the woman were given two wings of a great eagle, that she might fly into the wilderness, into her place, where she is nourished for a time, and times, and half a time, from the face of the serpent.

And the serpent cast out of his mouth water as a flood after the woman, that he might cause her to be carried away of the flood.

And the earth helped the woman, and the earth opened her mouth, and swallowed up the flood which the dragon cast out of his mouth.

And the dragon was wroth with the woman, and went to make war with the remnant of her seed, which keep the commandments of God, and have the testimony of Jesus Christ."

instantly reading this passage it took me back to what i was speaking about yesterday. i know earlier i spoke of the politicization of israel, but instantly i thought about what is happening here. i instantly thought about de-population efforts. i thought about consistent efforts to watch, silence and discredit or eliminate people who speak truth. i saw how innocuous people become tools for these missions. i saw how easily people become deceived by these tools. i saw how agent provocateurs destroy 'private property' so as to perpetuate a system of complacency/compliance (and the police and curfews can roll in)... all that COULD be paradise here on this plane is prevented by these efforts.

and of course, all these things (according to this parable) are a series of tests to see if we will remain with 'the truth' (which resides in us the whole time) instead of being deceived.

if any of these verses can attest, then there will always be war, because there will always be those who have arrived at truth, and those who vehemently oppose.

everything happens for a reason... i know that some of the elders say that GOD called you home for a reason. the interesting thing, in reading this passage, and in also looking at your teachings; it was as if you HAD to leave this plane in order for people to grasp your true message. and the 'dragon' or 'devil' (in this case several media organisations, journalists and citizens) work to prevent this message from spreading.

and being that you cannot necessarily 'run things' down here in the same way from where you are; your message is still extremely powerful, because it is based in 'the truth' (which we discussed yesterday). they can do whatever it is they do with money, material items, or even your art... the essence of your (and the) truth cannot be removed from any of it. because it has already seeped into our public consciousness.

it's still EXTREMELY difficult for me to even see those three words: 'michael. jackson...' well, you know how it ends. at this point, my difficulty in seeing those words has moved far beyond acceptance of your transcendence. it's more about how i relate to the word, in terms of my relationship with you. even the phrase people have now begun to analyse since your transcendence, trying to see if you're still here- "i'm alive and here forever"... for me, this phrase is quite true, because this speaks to your essence; that essence which is, truth. and we are so conditioned to focus on the physical, in matters of life or death. if this is the case than this means that your teachings have not been fully accepted, and that we can only learn from you when you are physically present.

of COURSE you are still living, because your spirit lives. because your teachings live. and because your teachings come from a long queue of ancestors and teachers of your own.

when i see those three words, i'm like, 'he IS??!!' you have become such a part of me that i don't even see how anybody could say those things about you. i mean, i GET what they are saying, but it just doesn't make sense to me. i have committed so much of myself to you and your teachings, that i just don't see your physical self not being here as being able to relate any less.

what happened to you is exactly what it is: a transcendence. it is a transition. your journey is now occurring in another place, where your work carries on with just as much vigor. and still, there is much work for you to do here... i am sure you have people on this plane assisting you in this.

in terms of what is happening in relation to your estate i cannot say i know if you have any people assisting you down here on this. the latest news is that an assemblyman by the name of mike davis is making attempts to sell the idea of neverland being a state park to the california legislature. the parks department (which is hurting financially it's been said) does not fully support the idea. considering that foot traffic was an issue continuously brought up in the discussions of the possibility of a burial there; i do not fathom how there could even be discussion about a state park.

another story is how fans have written on the tomb/mausoleum you are said to be in. the press has been calling it defacement. one of the writings which stood out to me was "keep the dream alive"... it's intriguing to me that this incident was not reported to the police... personally i don't think this is worthy of calling the police at all; considering though, such a high-profile figure in such a mausoleum, you would think that there'd be attention given to 'protecting' it. so i'm sure you know i find this story suspect, or highly suspicious.

in both of those stories the issue is how we choose to place our energies in commemorating you. is it important that we honor you with a relic (by way of a national park or a piece of legislature), or that we place ink to a building to designate some sort of devotion (or territory)? in terms of how we view you, what exactly is the priority?

"keep the dream alive"... to me, when you danced the dream, it became a reality, because you knew that time was of the essence... and that reality is served by presenting and maintaining truth. THE truth. instead of requesting that the dream be kept alive, we have to know that that 'dream' (which is the truth) is very much alive, and is not going anywhere. it will only go away if we cease to share it with the world.

"it doesn't matter if we're in the apocalyptic end times; we have to carry on with the spirit of our lives."

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 65)

2010-07-12T20:24:00.000-07:00

i can only imagine that being in such a different plane gives you a sense of relief; i wonder if, where you are you feel helpless as there isn't much you can do about all the destruction going on down here.

sometimes i wonder if a solution to so many of these issues can be created with just one or two simple acts. the government wants the banks to present loans to small business; the thing is, instead of the government bailing out banks with the money that could have been used for small businesses, they could have let these banks fail. we've heard it all before. but it still confounds me that collectively we allow these things to happen. what if we all took our money out of the major branches and into the credit unions? or what if we looked to options other than financial institutions ?

what if 100% of us resisted our money going to murder people overseas... no, what i REALLY mean is that- what if the military WE pay for actually does what they were said to do. a military exists for 'self defense', not dispense our own philosophies of 'democracy' to other parts of the globe, when we have trouble even defining what it is here. when habeus corpus appears to be irrelevant to those who sign off on the 'laws'; when people are censored, arrested, murdered or watched for simply using the right to critique a government.

...when we have a smaller-scale 'army' under the title of police, who SHOULD be trained in martial arts and de-escalation (just like the national military) yet they are trained in tactics of de-humanization, and indiscriminately use guns on unarmed people. what if we actually returned to methods of true community policing, where we knew who we lived next to, and could congregate outside without fear (and police terrorism)? and we all knew the discipline of a martial art (along with the mind/body connection) and we vocally reminded the police that we pay for their services, and ask why they expect that we owe them, because they are not returning on the investment. the police are running on a severe (moral/ethical) deficit, and because we pay for them to do the work they do we have the right to demand that the system in place not exist in the way it does.

...when people who cannot afford otherwise live next to radioactive waste and landfills. when more and more regulations are being created to 'protect us from ourselves'- the food we grow in our gardens, organic farms which receive no funding because they choose not to grow produce with certain seeds... when still, after much of the nutritional information being regulated, depending on where you live you still may not have access to healthy foods (unless you travel far to get it). what if people everywhere could figure out what could grow in their respective climates, and collaborate and share knowledge (and the WHOLE community is fed in the process)?

or that one day there will be a technology where the phones are not so toxic and full of microwave energy. of course they acknowledge this in europe, and all phoned come with an earpiece. and grade-school children in france are advised not to use cellulars. and that there doesn't even need to be a discussion of 'net neutrality'- that major (media and telecom) corporations even demand money from us, or else we will not have full access to information; and that one day we could share important pieces of information on the internet without being watched.

...and perhaps i'm just an idealist, and i'm just dreaming the whole thing. i don't think it would be a dream if everyone actually acknowledged or realized the potentiality of these things occurring.

i really do believe that love is the only truth that exists, when you are speaking of 'THE TRUTH'... everything else is based on a series of truths.

no, it's not an idealist, 'all is happy' sort of love... i am speaking of conviction. the lack of fear. true love is not based on fear, just as fighting is not always based on adversarial relationships. you can have a true sense of love for your people or your community enough to fight for them. one of the things you focused on was the ability for children around the world to live in health, peace and happiness, so you fought for that. by extension you also looked at issues of environmental degradation, authoritative abuse, as well as the importance of reading and family. overall, your love for children appeared to be driving all of these things.

when you have true love for someone or something, you will seek other truths.

a good friend of mine is a follower of meher baba. i cannot say that i am , as i don't follow the concept of the avatar- GOD in human form, who is "consciously one with the truth"; however, i do like his philosophy of, as i saw on a site from one of the 'baba lovers', "a new humanity based on love"... another thing which stood out on this site (called 'avatar meher baba manifesting') was the statement that "(h)is silence was observed not as a spiritual discipline... but as a necessary condition for his work." maher baba took a lifelong vow of silence on 10 july 1925. under this silence he did his "universal work" around the world, "aimed at giving a spiritual push to the entire Creation."

some of the things he's said are quite interesting:

"I have suffered much and will have to suffer much more till I break My Silence."

"Patiently have I suffered these things in silence for all My children."

"When I speak, there will be many proofs of my spiritual power, and of my ability to bestow Illumination. People will then realise that Truth, which is the source of all love and existence, rules supreme in all departments of life."

"My work and aims are intensely practical. It is not practical to over-emphasise the material at the cost of the spiritual. It is not practical to have spiritual ideals without putting them into practice. But to realise the ideal in daily life, to give a beautiful and adequate form to the living spirit, to make brotherhood a fact — not merely a theory as at present — this is being practical in the truest sense of the word."

"I intend, when I speak, to reveal the one supreme self which is in all. This accomplished, the idea of the self as a limited, separate entity will disappear, and with it will vanish self-interest. Cooperation will replace competition. Certainty will replace fear. Generosity will replace greed. Exploitation will disappear…"

"Although all are My children, they ignore the simplicity and beauty of this Truth by indulging in hatreds, conflicts and wars that divide them in enmity, instead of living as one family in their Father’s house. Even amongst you who love Me and accept Me for what I am, there is sometimes lack of understanding of one another’s hearts."

"When I break My silence the impact will be universal. No one knows how I am suffering. My suffering is not only physical but also mental and spiritual. There is a great difference between your mental and spiritual suffering and mine. My mental suffering is very intense and is because of the pseudo saints that abound in the world today. My spiritual suffering is because I know I am free in myself but bound in you."

"It is an absolute certainty, that before leaving my body I will have to face universal humiliation, apparent universal defeat and violent death, culminating in Universal Divine Glory. By ‘violent death’ I mean that I will suffer great physical violence preceding the glorious victory of Divine Truth, and this violence endured by my body will ultimately be the cause of my physical death. The manifestation of the Divine Truth will go hand in hand with the breaking of my silence. . ."

"My Silence must break. There is no escape for it."

"I shall not lay down My body until I have given the WORD to the world."

"Man’s inability to live God’s words makes the Avatar’s teaching a mockery. Instead of practicing the compassion he taught, man has waged wars in his name. Instead of living the humility, purity, and truth of his words, man has given way to hatred, greed, and violence. Because man has been deaf to the principles and precepts laid down by God in the past, in this present Avataric form, I observe silence."

"When I break My Silence, the impact of My Love will be universal and all life in creation will know, feel and receive of it. It will help every individual to break himself free from his own bondage in his own way. I am the Divine Beloved who loves you more than you can ever love yourself. The breaking of My Silence will help you to help yourself in knowing your real Self."

a lot of these quotes are not unlike things you have said (and the 'work' he spoke of, what you also did had significant importance)... in particular, the line in they don't care about us, where you say "i look to heaven to fulfill this prophesy". i also return to the letter you wrote in 1987:

"Like the old Indian proverb says, do not judge a man until you've walked 2 moons in his moccosins. 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 could 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."

there is also the 'MJ cult' which was created in honor of you by young witnesses around the time of 'thriller', in lieu of a rift between the jehovah's witness community. according to the 'MJ cult' you were the archangel michael. they looked to the book of daniel in the bible; chapter 12, verses 1 and 2:

"And at that time shall Michael stand up, the great prince which standeth for the children of thy people: and there shall be a time of trouble, such as never was since there was a nation even to that same time: and at that time thy people shall be delivered, every one that shall be found written in the book. And many of them that sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt."

years after this period (in 2009) you stated, "it is now i see and feel that calling once again; to be a part of music that will not just connect but, make all feel one, one of joy, one in pain; one in love, one in service and in consciousness."

also (from 2008):

"i am living for you, and the children. be alive, be free, feel consciousness subconscious, (at one with) GOD. i love you."

another quote from maher baba:

"Love is a gift from God to man, obedience is a gift from master to man, and surrender is a gift from man to master. The one who loves, desires to do the will of the beloved, and seeks union with the beloved. Obedience performs the will of the beloved and seeks the pleasure of the beloved. Surrender resigns to the will of the beloved and seeks nothing."

and you:

"Consciousness expresses itself through creation. This world we live in is the dance of the Creator. Dancers come and go in the twinkling of an eye but the dance lives on. On many an occasion when I am dancing, I have felt touched by something sacred. In those moments, I felt my spirit soar and become one with everything that exists. I become the stars and the moon. I become the lover and the beloved. I become the victor and the vanquished. I become the master and the slave. I become the singer and the song. I become the knower and the known. I keep on dancing and then, it is the eternal dance of creation. The Creator and the creation merge into one wholeness of joy. I keep on dancing — until there is only ... the dance."

to me, there is a difference between love and true love... true love could be seen as obeying i suppose; but, as i keep saying, part of that requires a questioning of your teacher. true love is about an equal exchange of learning. the relationship alters, but one will always be the teacher and the other a student. a true sense of love and surrender also requires a non-attachment to our perceptions of the teacher (or figure) and focus more on the teachings, and finding the truth within those.

again, what you have said is not unlike what meher baba has said- the major difference being you not claiming to be an avatar. and, as meher baba apparently made a conscious decision not to "teach, but to awaken", you realized the potential for us all to "school the world." to do both (teach AND awaken), that's not mutually exclusive.

it also appears that in the last half of your physical existence your messages became more urgent.

"people are always saying, 'oh,' they think 'they'll take care of it. the government'll do...' done with that. 'they'll...' they WHO??!! it starts with us. it's US! or else it'll never be done."

this is perhaps, one of the greatest things you have ever said, michael. i cannot say that the folks at sony or AEG got that, besides using it for their little film project.

this is exactly the point i was trying to make from the beginning. true love can be the only driving force to make a statement like that. it's the love which is the impetus for true community action.

these conversations always develop into a series of thoughts which flow into circular energy... with time moving so quickly the only solution at this point is indeed a universal consciousness created in the truth of love. this means we must move beyond our own environment and thoughts. we must know that our actions affect more than ourselves and those immediately around us.

true love... true love. it is absolutely possible.

"peaceful be heaven
peaceful the earth
peaceful the broad space between
peaceful for us be the running waters
peaceful the plants and herbs
peaceful to us be the signs of the future
peaceful what is done and undone
peaceful to us be what is and what will be
may all to us gracious be"

thank you, michael. know that i love you very much.

-jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 64)

2010-07-11T23:07:00.000-07:00

"the experience"...

this is the first time in a couple of days i'm getting to actually speak with you in this way. my body rhythms are not exactly matching up with the schedule i've been following; and any attempts to get some time to speak with you are dominated by me drifting off... today was the first day i got to ride my bicycle (other than going to work) in a little bit. the funny thing is, i was going to an event at a cafe in which there was a lecture on your 'genius': how being 'weird' is said to be synonymous with genius. as you know i don't believe in the concept of the genius; i don't adhere to those hierarchies in determining who's smarter, or who's more talented.

nevertheless, the lecture apparently happened a year ago, and was not to be on this day. a friend of mine told me about the event yesterday (saying it was today), and so i decided to go over there, preparing myself mentally for the focus on 'weirdness'. truthfully i don't have high expectations when it comes to people speaking about you, because people either defend you wholeheartedly (with no ounce of critique) or people discuss your artistic 'genius', but have to add your 'strangeness' in relation to a downfall. rarely do i ever see a grey area.

again, it's all a matter of self-reflection. and i don't feel like i've been doing that as much as i'd like to. life's a dilemma of sorts: on one end it's a place where i could relatively be myself. i don't have to fake a smile, or say i am okay when i am obviously not. on the other end i'm not a proponent of 'small talk', and so it's a bit difficult for me to move around in a world where, if i don't have 'small talk' people think i am mean. i do try to stop myself and imagine being in the other person's position... i try to imagine how awkward it must be for some people to even initiate a conversation. before they even state their point they preface what they are going to say with an apology. "never assume you've done something wrong going into a conversation", i find myself saying so often lately. every so often i also try to recall if i apologized constantly. i know for sure that there have been points in my life where i assumed i was in someone's way. so not only am i saying what i say to others, but also to myself.

it's all in "the experience" and how we can fit into a space larger than our own, and yet still maintain autonomy. this can be tricky if we are stimulated by sources which do not encourage self-reflection. however, you being a perfect example; if one is determined, experience can be utilized in informing the world about returning to the core-the heart-the self. reflection.

the other day i saw that your experience, michael, could be bottled up and sold... through one video game. i'm sure you could figure out what the title of the game is.

yes, you guessed correctly.

i know... i know... you adored the whole concept of fantasy and 'escapism' in your own life; and i can't help but think that this was the goal of the designers at ubisoft as well. because to use such an absolute word like 'experience' would ensure loneliness, tears, suffocation, the desire for companionship, the contracts, success and failure at sponsorships... to make the singing and dancing the full 'experience' is unfair because it cheats you of some of the links which actually make you human.

but i get why they did it.

i don't support the fact that this game exists; i don't support most of these posthumous projects, but this is one of the ones done with no input from you whatsoever. the practical person in me acknowledges the desire to maintain a financial legacy for the children (as well as paying back loans). the issue i have is that the 'estate' has developed this into a lucrative business.

i have this dream, that so many others would respond in kind; that people would speak loudly with their 'liquid assets'... that just you, through publishing, would see the results. that the industry would change, by not making money off your teachings by selling your 'genius'.

because still, through them you remain trapped in a song and dance.

but for me, your teachings will always appear, in a small long-stemmed rose, with a few thorns poking out on the sides; in that tired bicycle ride after work; in the wailing child whose teeth are growing in... these things are all part of the cycle; in a three-week old baby, eyes wide open to determine any new sounds... today the sun was bright, but it was never bright enough where i couldn't see.

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 63)

2010-07-08T22:43:00.000-07:00

everything is continuous, everything is cyclical... the fact that we have not grasped this concept in our society does not surprise me (having lived in it for this long). still, the thought overwhelms me sometimes.

i woke up from an after-work nap to hear news of the verdict of the oscar grant trial. not really having too much faith in the outcome being positive, i like to wait and see before i pass judgment. as i stood in the aisles in a post-work haze (if you will), the verdict was read. the verdict which would determine the future of thomas mehserle (the cop who shot oscar grant), and on a smaller level the future of police accountability. mehserle was charged with 'involuntary manslaughter'.

having looked at the video of oscar grant being shot by the hands of mehserle (i saw the video from several angles) it was clear to me that he was murdered. an 'involuntary manslaughter' charge is obviously inconsistent with this man's actions. mehserle claimed that he was reaching for his taser but instead grabbed a gun. the one factor which was left out of this case (despite it being a major one) was that oscar grant was HANDCUFFED. his hands were cuffed behind his back when he was shot. i cannot grasp how this would not be seen as malicious intent. there were also disparaging remarks made against him in the course of this event.

with that i can't help but think about the initial verdict of the rodney king case- like the shooting of oscar grant, the beating of rodney king was RECORDED- and yet, the charges were minimal. the first verdict for the police who beat king resulted in ACQUITTALS for all the cops. the other similarity is that there was the issue of moving the trial to another area, due to the theory that location would affect the outcome of the verdict (read: black people will protect their own, so we don't want them on the jury). and so... an all-white jury will 'OBVIOUSLY' be a bit more balanced...

everything is interrelated. the mehserle verdict can be looked at in conjunction with the trial you had in 2005, due to the sheer absurdity of both. (not so) oddly enough, the attention given to your trial was excessive and unnecessary, considering that most who reported on it were not even stating facts from the transcript. the attention given to the trial concerning another disregard for (black) life by the police is far from comparable in terms of reportage, as lady gaga (here we go again) receives more press.

what is comparable is that both trials presented substantial evidence (both video and transcript, respectively) and yet, as many times as police abuse is witnessed, there is seemingly unconditional support for the cops' account of events. with the 2005 trial, despite extensive searches by warrant; despite interviews and contradictory statements on the stand, and despite a very long transcript you are still deemed guilty.

there is one thing to critique one's perception of a disregard for social boundaries- which is ultimately the critique here. there is another thing, despite contrary evidence, to label someone something they were charged 'not guilty' of. just as there is substantial evidence of the histories of the the police institution in relation to poor and non-white people; these cops who do not live in the communities they 'patrol' are consistently being placed there. and thus the murders, the drug infestations and the injustice continue.

they. don't. care. about. us.

from the time we enter this world physically we are conditioned to imprison ourselves, via social behaviors/mores. we as black people are held to a higher standard to adhere to these mores. when we consciously or willingly enter a system which maintains these histories of suppressing and oppressing us, we work harder to be seen as 'better than'.

we exit the womb, already seen as statistics and potential consumers of materially-based goods. having spent so long within a sea of vibration, preparing ourselves for this new world; when we enter this world it could be very frightening for so many of us.

everything is cyclical... after i spoke with you yesterday i saw a couple of other 'news items' pop up for you... even if gaga having a lot of facebook 'friends' continually gets recycled on every website there is at this point- again, this desensitizes us in terms of how we view relationships. also, the pervasiveness of this information leads me to think of it as representing a larger plan in which we witness the cessation of the value systems of community (in a very traditional sense). we are encouraged to give up our lives for nihilism/self-gratification. nevertheless, it's troubling to see these articles like the ones i saw yesterday, as they actually do take advantage of your teachings, without adhering to them.

the first article i saw described a plan initiated by a major travel company (STA) to invite fans and others who are interested, to the experience of a 'pilgrimage'; a "world tour of destination", according to the new york times, of places you have travelled. the minimum amount of time for the 'pilgrimage' lasts for a little over a month, and the full experience lasts for a little over four. these travels span approximately 6 of the seven continents around the world. at the current rate of exchange, the basic experience would set someone back a little over $4000. the full 'pilgrimage' costs over $20,000.

“we thought in time for the one-year anniversary of his death it would be a fun way to celebrate his life and to incorporate pop culture with a love of travel.” this is what sophie nicholson, who represents STA travel said.

to me, this is not unlike what sony and AEG have done. this is a matter of marketing- banking on someone's transcendence, hoping that you'll recoup the funds you lost from all the preparations and paperwork.

the other article i saw angered me a bit more, because it actually did interfere a bit more with your teachings. here, we have an auction which is set for sometime in october. the man who is putting items of yours up for auction is ed kosinski, who runs a site called 'gotta have it!'- here again we have the fixation on consumerism: being consumed by the possession of material items. many of us can lay claim to this in some degree... but the way in which we're so inundated by coercive measures is what i have issues with.

i'd read so many stories of you just giving items of yours away to either fans or some of the people you've worked with, it led me to think that, despite your oft-reported 'spending splurges'; your focus was on making attempts to gain connection. so when kosinski stated that some of the items of yours he was putting up for auction were actually given to him in exchange for items you wanted - a classic case of bartering- i was far from surprised.

on one end the material items are worth nothing in comparison to your teachings, so putting a jacket or trinket of yours up for bid is not the biggest issue. what does concern me is the value of these items posthumously, and the pitch that these items will bring you closer to someone.

the idea that these items represent a source of happiness and connection to you is not surprising, but it's upsetting. it's a well-planned detraction from self-reflection.

in a way it's like the cops who indiscriminately shoot unarmed people (like oscar grant): these items (the guns, tasers, batons) assume a pretense of authority. all around, attachments to these items (weapons or not) uphold an allegiance to those who have: the 'upper classes' if you will. those who are the recipients of blunt force- either through child or sweatshop labor or a baton upside your head- do not have lawyers to represent them.

and of course i didn't even get into the 'involuntary manslaughter' charge in relation to conrad murray... that is a whole 'nother day...

it's all cyclical, isn't it michael?

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 62)

2010-07-07T20:48:00.000-07:00

i've been having quick bursts of both energy and tiredness... i expect that's from not getting much sleep before i had to go to work- i should be resting now, but my brain has been working overtime. my internal clock is having difficulty figuring out itself, as i run on a less consistent schedule these days... so used to beginning to rest at an hour where many are just waking up; i now have to be up at those hours as well, and because of this i have difficulty getting my body to calm itself.

all throughout this experience is the growing need to hold on to something, to someone... someone to share thoughts with. but everyone has gone to bed. and so i have an anxious mind. certainly i can talk to you in this way, but alas... there is the realization that you are not going to respond in kind, whether or not you are listening. it does make me feel uneasy talking to you in this way sometimes, because you are not able (or won't) respond in kind. my mind rushes with all of these thoughts- "OH! i have something to tell michael today... will it be information he didn't know? will it be something he's known the whole time and was TRYING to tell people, but they didn't listen?" i don't know, because we can't communicate in the same way.

so one of the things i KNOW i can do, is share your teachings with others... the teachings you presented to us whilst you were here on this plane.

as i was taking a little bicycle trip around the way (as it was a lovely night to do so) my mind was still racing, about communication and how we do it... how information is disseminated. i wondered if all the gnats that flew around each other actually KNEW each other; were they all family, or were they just becoming acquainted, by way of survival? the people who were sitting outside of their houses, do they talk to their neighbors?

and of course i thought about how information is disseminated by media. not just mainstream media, but independent as well... whether or not i or anyone else concurs, much of, if not all media is subjective. if a publication or news organization speaks of your 'genius' and all these great things you did with no semblance of critique; that organization is just as biased as any which speak of your oddities. in either case it's a limited range to where journalism can go. at the same time it's easy to resort to these limited capacities because it's compelling to do so. and just because it's compelling does not mean it's good.

always. question. your. teacher. i will repeat this as many times as i have to. this is one of the greatest lessons we can learn, if we are going to grow as students. we must always reserve criticism for those we agree with, and room to see the good points in those we don't.

and so of course i study vigorously. not because there's any groundbreaking news about you; but because as a student i must be knowledgeable about how information is disseminated.

in fact, there's no 'new' news about you at all right now... something you may be happy about, since there's a possibility you may now be at some sort of peace. but wait- the news in RELATION to you that is constantly being posted repeatedly (from many news sources) is that you have more facebook 'friends' than lady gaga. but she's getting up there.

on the surface this looks trivial. and it IS. however, the fact that this 'news factoid' has been appearing for what seems to be a week is intriguing. as lady gaga makes me physically ill i was actually not compelled to read anything about this 'news'. it took a number of days to look at this, because i really wanted to see how the narrative of 'michael jackson' (TM) fits into all of this.

celebrities are created, it's been said... they do not make themselves. i'd say that there was a given aspect of time where you portrayed the role of a 'celebrity'... granted, you had a determination to be where you eventually ended up, and you were a bird no one could cage. comparatively speaking, despite your marketing brilliance (as well as your ability to manipulate certain situations); there were forces at work which manipulated you equally, if not more. your struggles were pretty transparent, in particular, your relationship with the press.

in your adult life, media initially, essentially gave you a side eye at what they felt was your 'odd behavior'- carrying snakes with you, bringing your sisters along so you would not have to talk to journalists- but you were a 'MAJOR STAAAAAAAHHHR, DAHLING!' so they let it go. it sold lots of magazines.

when the struggle manifested itself in ways which could be characterized as depression, you no longer had 'quirks'. you were now 'wacko'. in this manifestation the facade of 'celebritydom' chipped away, and for an industry which thrives off of gratuitous distress there's no discussion of the dynamics which contribute to the letter you wrote in 1987 in japan; there's no room for context. it consistently perpetuates itself because when we see these public figures breaking down it makes US feel better. and someone makes money.

so you were just crazy. and of course, you were better when you were just singing 'billie jean' and doing the backslide.

we don't make our popular culture heroes. they are made for us. when you eventually were open with your intent to break free of the cage of a formation of 'blackness' regulated by an industry formulated overall by eurocentric standards, you were shut down. again, they let you slide for a while because you made them money. but when you decided to break free of social limitations in ways people did not expect, that was the point this country made the decision to ignore you. it made absolute sense that you stopped touring in this country.

our range of the 'black experience' is so limiting in this country. rather, it's difficult for us to grasp, due to our conditioning, that your experience (post- 'off the wall') is no less black than paul robeson's experiences. or la vern baker. or betty davis. or kwame ture.

or jack johnson. yes, another man who defied expectations of what 'blackness' represented. the major factor in his experiences though, was that when he fought, he WAS representing black america for many. 'pugilism' in many circles was banned, because white america could not see a black man winning. we travel to a more present day, and 'black america' has now 'dis-owned' you for the same thing jack johnson did: defy a narrow construction of 'blackness'.

we don't make our popular culture heroes. they are made for us.

as black people we either do not realize or acknowledge these constructions. nor do we acknowledge or realize how this range of experiences (on your part anyway) contributes to a connection with the ancestors. or it just simply shows how we are not a monolithic people. from the manu dibango-inspired chant within 'wanna be startin' somethin''; to the persistence in presenting egypt through an afrikan in america's eyes; to the re-interpretation of the edmund perry story- perry was a black youth who attended the phillips exeter academy and accepted into stanford university; he was shot by a plainclothes police officer. it was claimed that edmund and his brother tried to rob him.

...to the outright anger towards a government which "promised... free liberty". and of course... the event which to me, was the impetus for a lot of the censorship- you smashing up things. to some, it was seen as unbridled black anger (or, a possible response to the all-too recent beating of rodney king by the LAPD, and the subsequent 'riots'). but to others, you done lost your mind.

and oh, let's not forget the time you had the GALL to call out the industry for its racist actions. that was just called opportunistic; you were obviously kickin' up a diva-like ruckus because you weren't selling as many records as you wanted to. as i said before, even if that WERE the case, you could have cried about anything. but you brought up the racist music industry. for this, yet again, you were deemed racist. for bringing up something your inevitable contemporary- prince- has brought up. perhaps i haven't searched deep enough but i have not seen a racist label attached to him due to his comments.

i attribute this to the fact that, coming from the industry's perspective: they created you, and you were not supposed to deviate from their plan.

you were no longer a constructed hero.

don't think i forgot about the original point of this portion of the conversation... as i said i have so many thoughts whirling through my mind. there is so much i want to say to you, it just comes gushing out.

one of the theories is that the industry killed you (because you were no longer useful to them) so they created/indoctrinated the persona of 'lady gaga'. interestingly enough, there is footage of her performing, just as plain as can be. singing and playing the keys. somewhere along the line there was a deal made with the devil. i am not speaking of the mythical, robert johnson kind... there is some very evil energy running through this woman.

she does get comparisons to madonna. this may be the case; however, i don't think madonna was swayed as far, because like you, she was very determined. also like you, she was interested in marketing. both of you existed at a time where the artist did have some say in how their images were presented.

i suppose one could say the same thing about gaga... but there is something else i cannot put my finger on. the imagery she associates herself with is not only nihilistic; it's satanic.

these days, determination is so different due to our instantaneous society. the fact that gaga being seen as competition with you in terms of 'friends' on facebook is very telling. first, it shows just how much we value relationships by even using the word 'friend' in these circumstances. secondly, it shows how pervasive these images are. i mean, these images weren't exactly covert, but now, the same imagery many of us turned our noses up at when someone like anton la vey or death metal bands did this, are being propped up by gaga (and to a smaller extent, people like beyonce).

there are so many attempts to evict us because they say we are not paying THEIR utility. the thing is, it's pretty easy to see that the light is actually free.

i recognize the theory about the industry killing you (and i think it's a valid point, in relation to gaga) but as we can see, even when you're not physically here they make a lot of money off of you. it's fairly obvious that they recognize your teachings, but they bottle it up and call it 'pop music'. they create a template in which the consumer follows.

so they will reissue your teachings and release 'never before heard' (to them) tracks, and people will posthumously marvel at your 'talent' but may still never grasp the teachings. "there must be more to life than this", indeed.

of COURSE there is. but one must seek it out. one must never assume the information is out there, just waiting... one must never assume ANY sort of media has the seed to the tree of knowledge. it is through our search for truth where WE grow.

there will only be news about you when they decide to present it... as many issues that are going on with your so-called 'estate', the contractual deals with various media outlets, the court cases, the family drama... lady gaga is a distraction from larger issues at play. it's imperative to examine artist rights' issues; fiscal responsibility (and how 'black wealth' is perceived), the long-standing issue of how black artists' legacies are maintained... and the variances in an ideal of a family structure. what exactly does a 'family' entail? and because we are 'born' into one, does that guarantee that we must remain loyal, even if our experiences are traumatic?

and who runs this empire in the information being disseminated about you?

TMZ, of course. very time i turn around some so-called 'reputable' news source sites TMZ for 'breaking news'. and who runs TMZ? warner bros.

there is a bit of a connection, as AEG live has merged with themeSTAR, a producer of large-scale shows, which "will build upon both companies' established business networks to become the preeminent global entertainment presenter in its genre, developing and securing intellectual property rights to produce and present arena spectacles and family entertainment worldwide."

also on their website: "The AEG ThemeSTAR team is recognized for its entrepreneurial innovation and its operational effectiveness working with major brands including Warner Bros., Nickelodeon, HIT Entertainment, Mattel, Universal Studios, Disney, Viacom, Cirque Du Soleil, Sesame Street, Ringling Bros.,FIFA, Sydney 2000 Olympic Games, the NFL and more."

is there a connection? i'd be surprised if there were not.

is any significant information about michael 'secured' so that a 'spectacle' is bound to occur at the correct hour? thus, more money is transacted. i certainly don't know, but so much of it makes sense to me.

it's curious to see that, the one thing your father may be on to- that AEG is the key to this whole conrad murray issue- he was on AEG's payroll- he does not appear to be respectable because he's always after money. thus, he is framed as looking 'crazy'. other members of the family say 'murray didn't work alone', but joe has been very specific in who he thinks is responsible. just like i said for you; it may be attention-grabbing but to say something that specific, i think his suspicions are worth listening to here.

it's been said that in a potion of the contract you signed to do the series of shows at the O2, a stipulation was that your catalog would be up for grabs if you did not commit to the shows. i read the contract, and huge chunks of it were blocked out. reading the portions i did, it certainly appeared as if you signed your life away. on a contract which appeared far less binding on AEG's part, because it was so self-regulating. it was an AEG contract, dealing with AEG people. so it's pretty easy to sign off and say you had an extensive exam and passed, if the 'doctors' were on the payroll. the word which kept coming up with AEG employees during interviews around the time of promotion for 'this is it' was 'insurance'.

i do not know in what context you signed the contract... were you forced? was there a price on your head- AEG's involvement in preventing neverland from going on the market? the stake you own in ATV? were you heavy on painkillers? all i know is that i read it, and something did not sit right with me. especially the self-contained nature of it.

and when i saw the speech you did- "these are my final show... performances..." again, i was very upset with you. 'WHAT ARE YOU DOING??!!' i exclaimed. i saw echoes of dodger stadium in '84, where you caught everyone off guard and mentioned that you were not touring with your brothers anymore, as if it were an extension of yourself... looking back, what i saw was simultaneous fear and relief. i believe i mentioned that to you as well. for someone to openly profess hating touring over the years, something (namely fear) had to be driving the idea to agree to doingh a series of concerts.

i won't repeat all this again right now (i'm pretty tired as it is). there's so much i want to say to you, and also so much i want to sift through, in terms of information. there's so much of it, i want to make sure things are misleading as little as possible. to not at all. i'm still learning about the whole process.

well, i am about to drift off (and i must be up in a few hours again). i shall have to continue tomorrow, this conversation with you about this gift of information we have so much access to, and yet we take advantage of it.

we take advantage of our teachers.

before i leave for now, i want to share this with you. it may have even been the catalyst for one of your many creative endeavors... sometimes you may not have gone to places you wanted to be, but this was the path you chose to accept: "remember man, to get ahead in this world you must control your own destiny. so don't allow someone to trick you into going against your will. your feelings will guide you right, and even though you may not be able to explain your feelings to another person, you always understand after a little thinking to yourself. always know what you feel and who you are..."

edmund perry said that.

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 61)

2010-07-06T00:32:00.000-07:00

"visions come to me in my sleep/i closed my eyes to see what GOD is showing me..."

sometimes we only go as far as we allow our vision(s) (or dreams) to take us... and sometimes that is not very far. we awaken due to a disruption (the buzz of an alarm clock, the call of a full bladder). much of the time it can be attributed to our fears: of rejection, of failure.

"nothing comes but sleep to a dreamer..."

i woke up from a dream where you appeared. it was set approximately in 1980 or 1981. you made a surprise appearance at a diana ross concert. as she was singing a leon sylvers-inspired tune you jumped in, ad libbing and playing off of her rhythms. the crowd went crazy; they clamored for more but in a flash you were gone. i didn't even see you leave... all i saw was a queue of men (most likely your security) all dressed in black, running behind you. the next thing i saw was a shot of the crowd in a state of pandemonium as the orchestra (which you could not see, as they were behind a bunch of rafters) played on.

and then i woke up.

"and when you wake up, the dream has gone away."

even though it was not a continuation of the same literal dream; when i woke up i wondered if they had the same connotation- you know, the one dream i had that one time (when you were still physically here) where diana ross was there too... it was at a huge arena, and i, my sister and a friend sat so far up top everything on the stage looked like ants. after the show ms. ross led me backstage (the friend and my sister had left, then came back), where you were. you were just serenely sitting at a table, all by yourself. you were dressed in your blue sequined costume (the one you wore to the grammys and when you went to see the reagans). i didn't want to disturb your moment of serenity but you helped me along by giving me a warm hello. at the time of the dream i was in the midst of heavily writing the book so inevitably i carried a lot of anxiety. because you were the umbrella through which the book was written you had the opportunity to be the recipient of a non-stop barrage of disjointedness. you gently stopped me, took my hand in yours and held it in a parental gesture. "you know what to do" was your response.

and then i woke up.

but you've heard this all before... maybe i'm just reading too much into a possible connection, but i see one, between the two dreams. because a lesson is involved in both.

there are two different issues which have been eating at me in different ways: children and technology. and yesterday i had to confront both in ways i really did not want to.

the older i get my desire to be a mother grows. at work i see so many children- babies born just days and weeks prior, toddlers who have found the joys of exploration- and i feel this immense emptiness inside my soul. i am driven by this fear that i'll never get to experience that because... i have absolutely no desire to give birth. i know, i know, it's extremely contradictory. i recall you stating in an interview something similar in the early 1980s, how you yearned to be a father but didn't really want to be a part of the birthing process. when i saw that i thought, SOMEONE UNDERSTANDS...

again, seeing that many may think this has to do with you not wanting to continue your gene pool (and further, after the birth of the children you eventually did have, that you didn't want black children). i cannot make assumptions about why you said what you did; all i know is that when i saw your comment i felt as if i wasn't alone. i know for me, it has nothing to do with either one... i just never really had a desire to give birth. as beautiful as the process is, to see a life growing inside someone and after this long gestational period anticipating the result; i personally just don't want any part of it.

and i get a lot of grief for this. "well, you don't want a child bad enough then" they say. but i do... I DO! it kills me so much that i cry at night sometimes. i want to watch a child grow, say the first words, learn to walk, form lasting friendships, become independent... the older i get the nurturing side of me grows. i live with a lovely cat (who, if anything were to happen to her it would devastate me to no end) but frankly it's not the same. it's like, as much as you loved bubbles (or muscles or louis or rosie or mr. tibbs, etc.), the role bubbles played could not compare to the first time you saw your first born son. i mean, it was so much that you even allowed the press into your life, to document the event of his existence.

looking at images of you over the years; it amazes me how much you lit up when you were around children, as if they were your one link to life. even when you performed on stage (which you felt safety from, and where the microphone was sort of an umbilical cord) there always seemed to be tinges of anger or resentment. the 'angry dancer' description astaire gave to you rang true. but when you were around children it was the only time i can say that sadness departed from your eyes.

what upsets me is that there's a degree on how much i desire to have children in my life... i don't know if i were a man who wanted a child, if people would be critiquing me because i didn't want to father one 'naturally'. is giving birth such a symbol of my womanhood that the only way to test my being a competent mother is if i gave birth? i don't think that's what people are saying but at times it feels that way.

what they ARE saying is that there aren't too many options i have, if i really want to be a mother; as i don't want to produce a child 'naturally', and i don't have the money 'required' to adopt a child. i could, of course, be a nanny, but that's not the same as full on motherhood, as being a nanny does not guarantee watching the child grow for years on end.

a couple of friends commented that my lack of desire to give birth may stem from some sort of trauma; either in a past life (where i died stillborn), or in this one (where my childhood was so painful that i don't wanna see the gene pool continue). i would think that if life was so bad for me as a child i would WANT to give birth so that it would be proven that abuse does not run in our blood.

it's difficult for me to explain why i have never wanted to give birth. if it ever ends up happening it's not going to be the worst thing to ever happen in my life; but i really hope that's not something i even have to consider.

if anything i have a huge fear of, not the child being stillborn, but me not surviving the experience and never being able to see the child grow. i have a huge fear of suffering from depression during pregnancy, and after. i have thoughts of being really ill throughout the experience- more than the typical morning sickness, or cramps.

and if i actually did survive the pregnancy i'd be afraid that i'd reject the child. as beautiful as i think the experience of childbirth is, i also find it to be extremely violent. for a child to be born (pushed out!) into this world today is very cruel. and some of the things we subject the child to during that gestational period are cruel as well. they come into this world after all this time of peace, and we instantly place our aspirations, our fears, our assumptions onto them.

and with that, as much as it's killing me right now that i am not a mother, at the same time i hate the fact that i want to be one.

i also have an intense fear about being a mother right now, because i don't want to do it alone. i long for the 'traditional' life in many ways... a companion to raise a child with. but how many people do you meet who love children but also don't have the desire to do it 'naturally'? for men, there are more options.

but not really. because how many men who want to be fathers shy away from the idea of an 'heir' to continue their bloodline? i recognize the value in this with older agricultural or nomadic societies... but where exactly does this translate today? how much more value does a child which continues the bloodline have, as opposed to a child who is adopted? wouldn't both children be loved the same?

i know that i'm not ready to be a mother at this moment; i still have a lot of healing to do. the sentiments of "not getting any younger" tick away at my spirit as i begin to approach my mid-30s... people telling me "you'll make a good mother" does not help. it's not my womb which is feeling empty; it's the feeling that i'll never be a mother which dictates that emptiness.

and so we are onto the second issue i am having- the fear that i'm living in a world where everything is abbreviated, and rushed. that even these conversations i am writing here to you are too lengthy. the more we adapt to all these technological 'advances' the less time we have to spend with each other, and form lasting relationships.

you, being on another plane are able to sit and decipher where you want your energies to go... you have so much time to do this. we on this plane have been neglecting our abilities to do the same exact thing. more and more of our relationships appear to be based on what someone can do for us, as opposed to WITH us. or as a friend said yesterday, "the three-minute sell".

i am having so much trouble getting on in a world like this. it's difficult for me to be stimulated by all the sounds, all the instant pictures and flashing lights. it's been building up to this environment for years, but now the idea that computers can become a substitute for relationships of living beings has become a reality for some.

and with that i reluctantly signed up with these 'social networking' sites, in order for me to find people i lost connection with (some of this did happen), or to discuss important socio-political issues (this has happened as well). overall, the experience has left me unsatisfied, because there's only so many places in these connections/communications people are willing to go.

you see, i don't like small talk (i'm sure you could tell). and this is what to me, much of this 'social networking' amounts to. it's as if any critical thought ruins the party. again, i totally grasp why you were a man of few words.

and i personally don't like talking too much, but i love writing. and so much of this 'social networking' culture is an extension of 'talking' culture... it a method of formulating ways on how to win people over... and that's not necessarily easy to do when you are involved in intense dialog. in many ways 'talking' requires taking sides, as opposed to seeing many sides of a situation. these days so much of the 'taking sides' is due to lack of information. because we receive so much information at accelerated rates (via links) there becomes less and less time to study or focus on one or two things. it's as if diligence is no longer a part of our interactions and cultures. study, and "to thine own self be true..."

diligence is the only way to truth. again, part of this truth is questioning the lessons, and the teacher who grants the lessons.

and so, in my diligence i continue to make attempts to navigate and use these networking tools to spread your teachings, in the hope that others are learning as well.

"visions come to me in my sleep..."

i gather that you have appeared in my dreams again, briefly, as i am in a mode of self-confrontation to let me know, as you once lovingly told me, that i "know what to do."

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 60)

2010-07-05T02:14:00.000-07:00

every day i write something, another thought transpires... your beauty just makes me so sad. the possibility that we could all fall victim to never being able to see our own beauty just makes me sad.

for some reason i was thinking about the interview you did with oprah winfrey in 1993. "you know, let's put it this way. if all the people in hollywood who have had plastic surgery; if they went on vacation there wouldn't be a person left in town." i don't follow popular culture too much, so i cannot tell you who does and does not get scrutinized for any sort of physical alterations. i do know that you, being a prominent figure who 'happened to be black', you received a lot of accusations of self-hatred. because the alterations appeared so drastic- from the hair to the features. being that popular culture seems to thrive on the facade and not much beyond this, i understand the accusations. it doesn't make it right but i understand.

the thing i thought about more from the interview though, was your statement on vitiligo, without specificity.

because of the nature of the hippocratic oath (as if some doctors actually FOLLOW this) i doubt if anyone at the time was going to divulge any information about your condition. also, due to the fact that vitiligo was not a word uttered by most people (except those who had to deal with it, and those close to them), it was also inevitable that people were gonna accuse you of self-hatred in that form as well.

it was uncomfortable to see that part of the interview, as i saw you squirming in your seat, getting ready to cry in anticipation of having to explain your situation- a situation i might add, which had been developing for years. because there was no notification of it on your end, people just saw the 'end result'.

because we are societally conditioned to reject empathy, the way you answered winfrey's question gave you an appearance of not being credible, unfortunately. i don't think it was your place to tell anyone anything, but you also had to expect that you WOULD be asked about your skin tone.

looking at comparative photographs it's pretty easy to see that for much of your adult life you had a relatively heavy makeup job. sometimes you'd look really dark and other times (in the same period) you'd look much lighter. i'd see those photos and ask myself, with all that makeup you're wearing how does it not end up all over your clothes? and then i'd see a photo where the makeup actually DID end up all over your clothes... and you'd see these patches of discoloration.

i used to see people in the street with vitiligo when i was a child, and i always thought they were burn victims. it was always black people i saw; i was not aware that people could lose pigmentation at the time. it gave me a quick relief to know that these 'burn victims' went outside with no shame, and that i saw no one openly making fun of them. i did see people staring once in a while, but i never saw open comments. i thought that maybe the world knew more about this growing number of burn victims than i did.

but of course i did not know what they had to go through with emotionally, every day of their lives. i was not there to see their initial reactions when one day they just suddenly lost pigment.

this is what i saw in that interview- the frustration in having to explain it. i can't say WHY you chose not to discuss any of this prior to the interview, but you made the ultimate decision in going public with it in your own way.

what i was thinking about before i decided to write this to you was, how much it wouldn't matter to people WHAT you said... you can't win either way. and because you've been a man of little word by the time of that interview, it must have been really difficult for you to articulate what you really wanted to say. things have been so formulaic for so much of your life; that as simple as it would have been to say "i have vitiligo, look it up", you scrambled as to what to say. the world was watching you, it was your moment.

with that, there was eventually an official release from a doctor, explaining your condition.

you could have said, "if you read my book you can see a photograph of the makeup i am using... you can see all the makeup caked on my face over the years to deal with this issue." you could have even aligned yourself with others going through the same thing, and discussed the varying ways people deal with vitiligo. it seems like, with subsequent comments on your skin condition you were a bit more impatient, understandably. as for the 1993 interview you appeared to be off guard.

sometimes you just can't win...

right now i wonder, if you were asked about your skin condition today, what the response would be. would it be one of the same frustration, or would you be upset?

again, how we view self-hatred is so limiting to me. yes i know that we are conditioned to see things myopically but still... there is something extremely destructive in how black people in particular view self-esteem. because it's not always we take into account the family structure. 'society' is regularly a point of contention, but how often is how we are treated at home up for discussion?

winfrey, like martin bashir treated your childhood at the hands of your father as a ratings ploy, as opposed to exploring real issues relating to the tradition of abuse in our families. it's real easy to call it and to describe it ("so... what ELSE did he do to you?") but rarely do we look to solutions and modes of healing. the speech you did at oxford concerning the cycles of abuse and how to end them (and even looking into your OWN modes of healing) was a wonderful counterpoint to the media spectacle that is 'the interview'.

i actually DID grow up with bleaching cream put on me because certain parts of me were 'too dark'. i did indeed grow up hearing that my hair was atrocious, my nose was ugly... i did grow up hearing that i was stupid and worthless. there may have been a subconscious feeling that i was worthless because i was black (as a black woman who raised me told me these things) but growing up i didn't take it as that- i just hated myself.

but we've been through this already. i don't need to repeat it to you again. my point is (and i will say it over and over if i have to) is that the changes you made to yourself, just from hearing what you had to say, i don't attribute that all to racial self-hatred. this is why i say you can't win. in fact, i don't think ANY of us as black people who have had to deal with abuse of that caliber are able to win. because we are always told that we either hate our ethnicity, or we don't. there can never be any gradations. there can never be any context of the experience.

and the abuse is excused as being 'just words'. and we are told to just get over it.

i have to say (again) that you were quite helpful in my process of healing with that. i didn't really know how to articulate my feelings in a way which would be conducive to healing. it's that sort of thing where they say, you have to want to heal yourself; no one can make you do it. but it was not until i saw you discussing your experiences... it was not until i saw the open struggle you were dealing with in trying to find ways to heal, that i even considered looking within myself a possibility. no, you were not the cause, but you were the catalyst.

as many 'abused' people as i have known throughout my life, somehow you resonated with me the most. i suppose it's because of seeing so much of you in myself i got scared. writing the book i became so depressed. there were points it got so low... i will not finish the sentence. but really, i don't know what it was, what words or actions you took specifically, but there was a signal which was the impetus for me to examine the relationships with myself, and others. i was determined to find modes of healing.

i still struggle every day of my life. but i do know that somewhere there is a space where true peace and forgiveness will show itself.

so yes... it does make me sad that you were never able to see your own beauty in full... that you could never articulate your pain fully... that someone could exploit your pain and catch you off guard... and it does make me sad that others were not able to see the potential (and evidence) for that space of peace within you. but because i have seen that light within you, it does bring a smile to my face, knowing that if I have seen it others have seen it as well.

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 59)

2010-07-04T01:00:00.000-07:00

michael... michael... michael...

again i have been hearing your name being called out with more frequency... and again it's always in the same places; if i am at work or in my room. perhaps that part of my brain which hears you is again being utilized, as i write these blog entries to you with more consistency as of late. there's just so much on my mind i want to say to you. i know that i could simply write all of my thoughts to you in a booklet, symbolizing a more concrete passage of time... i know that the way i am writing to you holds a bit less value, due to the lack of intimacy on the internet; the push of a key will never be the same a the stroke of a pen. however, in this technological method which makes things much more minute there is a possibility that someone may innocuously share their musings.

i don't write all these things down for attention; i doubt if many people read these postings. i do write for the hope of connection- that someone out there feels the same passion for your teachings. the only way to know if this is the case is to try... to put it all out there. i could never keep this all to myself. your gifts are far too numerous for that.

as i was waking up before i went to work a thought popped up in my head, in relation to how your teachings appear. some time before i went to bed i heard a conversation on the radio about the chris brown performance. a portion of his breaking down during 'man in the mirror' was played. listening to this clip, i actually have less of a desire to see it (or hear the full performance). as you know i don't like chris brown as a performer. i don't like his style- how he sings, how he moves. despite having you as a major influence i don't see him connecting with the spirits. i see him simply performing for the time. when people emphasize how much he dances like you again, i see technique, but not the spirit.

when i say this... when i see you move i see so many of those lines diminish. you fostered a balance between male and female, elder and child; peace and war, destruction and regeneration... you never wavered between the elements, but your movement narrated the fluidity and impermanence of life. knowing there could never be an equal balance between art and life, you worked to create an internal impression through your teachings.

and herein lie the thoughts which entered my brain as i woke from my rest. within seconds of hearing the clip of chris brown breaking down i could tell that his performance of the song was contrived and self- referential- i mean, he could have picked ANY other song out of your catalog to close his tribute out. the thing is, i don't agree with those who claim that his tears were just as contrived. granted, i can't say that any other song would have prompted such a breakdown. in light of his recent actions (being charged with a felony in beating his partner), he was also guilty in the court of public (and capitalistic) opinion, where his record sales and sponsorships suffered... 'man in the mirror' was a song he HAD to do, for public relations' sake. he may be human, but he is still, for all intents and purposes, famous. and someone that young is still concerned about and attached to his image.

but he is still human. and i believe that in the few seconds i heard of the clip there was a notion of sincerity. because as contrived as his choice was, there appeared to be a conscious effort to seek truth and light. and when the ultimate decision is made to do that, it's very painful to do.

"music is a teacher" indeed.

chris brown already had a large enough support network though. there is a chance he may never find the full impact of your teachings if he is encouraged to do what he's done in the past, in terms of his own work. after this infamous experience is he going to focus on reflection? i cannot say. i should only hope so.

for those of us who do not have a support network, there are many uncertainties.

i am writing this, still scrambling in terms of what i want to say. the right words never seem to come out. i write and write and write hoping that you'll hear me. it's no use in even asking 'what if...?' or imagining that i'd be the one to save you. this is not my intention because that would infer a lack of self-reflection. those things are not things i have asked of myself because frankly, i feel i need to move on from that.

i do know that when thinking about you, i go through major waves of happiness and sadness, all in one simultaneous moment. as i told you before it's got not much to do with you not physically being here. so much has to to do with how our worlds coalesce; how much you have infiltrated my inner self. how much you have stimulated an aspect of myself which was never aware there was light, for many years.

and because i see so much of you in myself i constantly feel a profound sadness; something in me will forever be unfulfilled. because i know these feelings will never be fully understood by others. because of the promise of commitment i made to you and your teachings i realize i am at full risk of isolation.

this is a predicament i cry about... when one is fully committed to study others may define the experience as one of austerity or 'obsession'. all of that lends to feelings of loneliness.

i identify and i empathize when (at work especially) i see so many children, so many babies around me; and i become devastated. because i can only imagine you talking about doing what you did for young people and for years not having a child in your immediate life. the desire to take on a nurturing role tortures you the older you get... the desire for true, solid companionships tortures you.

but you know at the same time that your goals and your work make so much of this unattainable. you do what you do, you make people smile and you go home at night and cry. because you don't have anybody to share your innermost fears with. or anybody to share your goals with, without reservation.

and i look at you and i just marvel at your beauty... i see you and i cannot grasp why people say you are ugly. i stare at images of you and i see a beam of light beneath those sad eyes, waiting to emerge. your beauty is not made of holiness or perfection; you don't get a pardon for altering your looks. the thing is though, as physically beautiful as you were with your original features and hair (i already told you this); the more you began chipping away at the externals the more developed your teachings became.

and still, i become so sad at your changes, because i see that fragility in myself. i know that as hard as i am fighting to eliminate all those messages in my head- the same ones your father told you my mother told me- they are still tucked away, waiting to appear at opportune moments.

perhaps this is the reason i am hearing your name at such a constant pace once again. perhaps the ancestors (perhaps you?) are reaching out to tell me that whatever happens, whatever we look like, our true nature lurks inside; we just have to access it. and the farther you focus on obtaining truth more of it will begin to lurk outside.

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 58)

2010-07-03T00:03:00.000-07:00

"i'm still awake".

i'm listening to the radio right now, and one of the interviewees stated this at the beginning of an interview about the state of print newspapers. we each share the same 24 hours, no matter where on the globe we are. thinking about it, it is possible that the only time we may truly be ourselves is when we are not 'awake', because we are not constantly subjected to desensitizing materials.

at what point does true consciousness occur? a friend of mine had to catch me as she made a distinction between 'sleep' and 'rest'. a conscious person never sleeps, so when one goes to bed they 'rest'. and even outside of the physical plane there is much work to be done (as you know), so even if your body has taken on a state of eternal rest, your soul enters a period of work and protection.

i speak of this because it appears in many ways... we are culturally asleep, to the point where once-thriving industries are struggling how to work within a framework of changing technologies (whether or not they have the funds to do so). and we as individuals make the conscious decision to not take advantage of the facilities we are given. we have access to so much information and then we don't use it. we scream about the possibility of it being taken away from us but we don't utilize it to its full capacity, in positive ways.

and so we allow these industries to make the decisions for us; influencing our decisions on what to buy, and when to buy (into) it.

i think specifically about a couple of different situations... i think of the time when you were at the world music awards in monaco, and the notion of piracy was mentioned. you giggled at the word 'pirate', amused at how the traditional concept of a pirate (of the caribbean, no less!) could be associated with affecting a music industry. and then you caught on, and straightened up your posture. i found that charming, your slight naiveté of the concerns of an industry where you still sold millions of units, particularly outside of the states. your fans and supporters have been loyal to you, thereby deeming you relatively unaffected by the failing state of the industry... after all, you revived a slumping industry in 1982- and then again in 2009. i'll get back to this in a bit. but you never heard anybody exclaim, "yo! i got the latest MJ bootleg!!!"

and more recently i think about how performers like lady gaga are peddled to us.

lady gaga happens to be one of those performers where, when i hear her my eyes roll in the back of my head as if i am being possessed by some evil energy. i see her, and i become bit ill. i am not joking. it has nothing to do with how she's dressed really, or even the songs themselves. granted i don't really like the songs; but there are many bad songs out there and i don't feel possessed when i hear those. i just happen to see and hear this very evil energy radiating from her. it's as if they found her, and she was bred, 'manchurian candidate' style, to take on a pivotal role in a more modern form of desensitization.

i think the huge difference between what she does and what others do who PURPOSELY perform through a means of evil energy, is just that. though what they all do is intentional, what gaga does is set up to be 'shocking'. her image constantly changes in a painstaking attempt for unguarded fluidity. nothing is sacred in this world, especially not relationships (with ourselves, our environment or others). and we allow this space in our lives to be dictated to. because relationships are of least importance. our senses are so overloaded with imagery and sound that we begin to ignore the gift of vibration.

it troubles me when i see these children (and elders- i mean, people in their 80s) dancing to lady gaga. because these children are being indoctrinated early on. and the elders become internet sensations. we become so consumed with instantaneous desire, and even though she's not the only one to promote this, gaga contributes to it. that she is being lauded by publications for being 'original' and wielding a whole lot of influence (financial and cultural) is troubling to me, as this is a perpetuation of the idea(l) of individual wealth as being financial. and you obtain this wealth by staging yourself as a symbol of hedonism.

and so i return to 1982. you by comparison, despite being the most famous person in the whole world were actually one of the least hedonistic figures in popular culture. i can't help but think though that as you were bred for the life you entered since you were a child, there was a goal by management and label executives to market you as being a thriving recipient of this instantaneous culture... there were the dolls, the commercials, the concerts. still you could see an open battle with that life, as you shied away from interviews, or you made quick appearances then left, hiding your face and whispering how embarrassed you were. you created your little enclave inside, as opposed to displaying any sort of excesses outside.

even 'thriller', the album which still stands to this day as the greatest-selling of all time, was an album which claimed moral codes. 'wanna be startin' somethin'' indicated self-pride and familial responsibility; 'lady in my life' represented an intimate moment between two committed people, and 'beat it' was a lesson in just walking away from violence. even the titular track, despite it's dark theme, had a playful side to it; it was all about protecting someone from a horror film.

the funny thing is, this was the era in which you scared me. ultimately, whether or not you chose that energy, there was a DARK energy around you. and it resulted in the infamous 'victory tour', the 'pepsi burn' incident, and so much more. it seemed that when you decided to free yourself from much of your immediate surroundings at that time, creatively you became freer. HOWEVER, this was the period when the reception towards you became less and less positive.

those who choose to speak truth will ultimately be physically destroyed. this is the perception. but really, we all must physically leave this world. the most important thing is that truth remains. as long as we live in this world we are going to be encouraged to never question anything but ourselves. but if, in our physical existence we have obtained a bit of truth, then i think we have succeeded in some way.

and just by even reaching one person, i think you have succeeded very well. i'm still awake, michael. and i know you certainly are.

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 57)

2010-07-02T02:33:00.000-07:00

i feel so full of inspiration right now... wait, that's not exactly correct but at the same time it is... i guess the main thing is that, since it's not just you i am speaking to (what i write here to you is public) i want to be very clear in how i say things, regardless of the fact that it all will be mis-interpreted anyways.

words are difficult to convey to someone who lived, for all intents and purposes, the dance. you lived, breathed and rested the dance. for me, my mind flows in waves like the ocean, where the tides come and go, rise and subside. i become inspired by words and aim to put it all to action. the way i process things, i work best when i write it all down. i can't articulate myself very well when i speak. and i'm certainly not as good a dancer as you, so...

i suppose you're stuck with me in this way. i hope it's not too much for you.

the catch 22 even in THIS is that my feelings for you cannot even be displayed in words. your teachings move me far beyond a place where we speak... when you left it was real easy to say 'a part of me has died' but that's not exactly what i wanted to say. how i felt was in a place so hollow that left me feeling unaccomplished. it had nothing to even do with the fact that i'll never be able to hear your voice again... i can always return to your voice whenever i need to hear you. what i felt was a huge portion of me chipping away; it was as if everything i was beginning to learn in the process was now for naught. i had to stop and think about my purpose in this whole experience with you. at that point i had to make a decision. i had spent so much of my time, getting very little sleep, advocating what i thought you were trying to convey your whole life, through my own life's perspective. you were the umbrella through which my experiences were translated. but yes, when you left i had to make a decision.

and i had to stop merely being an advocate and begin to make a goal to truly become the teachings which you presented to me. when i realized this was what i had to do i felt so much better, and i knew that everything i had done prior to that fateful day happened for a reason.

a friend of mine told me that initially he didn't fully understand why i spent all of my waking hours as an advocate for you, in the years i had known him. he told me that after a while he realized that in all that time i was simply preparing for the day of your transcendence. he said that somehow i sensed it coming.

and the truth is, i did. i kept this to myself around the time you turned 50. i saw something very dark occur, and i got really scared. i did not want to put it out in the universe. i'm sure i was not the only person to envision this. however i did not know when. i can guarantee you that i was not aware of the magnitude of that moment.

i must admit that it was something that worried me as that day was approaching; it was met with a bit of relief when you survived the day of your 50th year of existence, spending quality time with your children. i could not help but have a continuous sinking feeling though. and it bugged me to keep processing that.

again, it wasn't the fear of your physical loss driving this- everyone has to go, as they say. there was something very unsettling in the visions i had. i ended up having a couple of dreams where there was some sort of fighting involved. in the last one i had (about two weeks before you left) we fought in public. i spoke to you in an accusatory tone (actually yelling at you) then i stormed off; i eventually returned. i saw you standing, hunched over in sadness (or possibly protection). i went over and placed my hand over you, in a silent apologetic embrace.

and then you were gone. i can only imagine how straight your posture is now; you are so free...

as an advocate i wanted there to be a flow of energy in which you could feel some sort of support. i think that the flow of energy from one person to another is crucial, even if one is not physically present. i truly wanted you to know that i was thinking of you in these times, in your emotional struggles. in the midst of all this there were times that i struggled in my own personal relationships, and doubted myself. i will not go into details here, but i will say that you remained a constant in my life. there were certain points where i wondered if, due to the similarities in our experiences, you were a crutch. in the course of the dedication to my advocacy a lot of tears were shed and questions asked. i wondered if this sort of dedication was really worth it, where it affected my friendships.

however, i remained steadfast in my love and advocacy for you, and in many ways it improved my relationships with people... a huge aspect in this advocacy is self-reflection. everything you taught me would have little to no value if i were not to tune into that aspect of myself...

ricky martin called you "a great teacher, pure musical inspiration"... i have seen places where others have called you a teacher as well. as it's obvious/inevitable that i would not be the only one to consider you a teacher; i do wonder how your teachings have impacted those who have bestowed the title upon you. i try to imagine the flow of energy from your hands, as you shook the hands of your contemporaries and elders. your frame was so small but you appeared larger than life. even larger than it looked like you felt. i try to imagine the emotions expelled by those who had the opportunity to capture your teachings in person, the second you catapulted on stage... the tears and the fainting...

and how what you were doing was either making a business deal, or just giving people what they wanted on stage... either way, i saw the same energy radiate. magic is too simple of a word. because the outcome may have been illusion-based; but beyond the illusion was a force. i am still astounded when i see footage of you, a young kid from midwestern gary, indiana; grow to become an internationally-respected man dining with kings and presidents, maintaining this level of unsophistication (perhaps due to a child-like demeanor) which was extremely humbling and yet, ensuring a level of maturity rarely seen on those with similar stature.

do you see what i mean when i say that words don't convey the true nature of my sentiments? it's all too easy to become lost in semantics or phrasings; i'm not too sure how else i can share this... my feelings are too strong to keep to myself.

when i speak of you as a teacher, this is the part which can be open to mis-interpretation... because, you didn't only teach me about love, about patience, about empathy... you also taught me about weakness, about control. about owning those painful experiences. no you were not the one to help me discover these things; however, as i keep saying, learning from and about you i was forced to acknowledge a lot of these things in myself. even though i thought i was somewhat better in terms of doing this, i saw that there was much room for improvement.

to be a student of yours isn't easy. it guarantees in many ways, isolation. the isolation isn't intentional, but it comes with the territory of absolute dedication. it guarantees absolute spurts of blossoming creativity and other moments of sheer blocks. it guarantees both jumping in the air with excitement and crying oneself to sleep.

it requires an intense focus, but never a loss of sight of your surroundings, for this is also the model from which is the inspiration for your teachings. in order to fully be focused, a peripheral awareness is of utmost importance. true wisdom can never be attained within a narrow vision.

you see, it's so easy to become lost in all of these words... i see why you allowed 'the dance' to speak for you. still, again, this is the best way for me to communicate. the dance encourages you not to become dictated by euphemism. ironically, it was 'the dance' which people became fixated on, virtually ignoring your message and then, when you actually DID open yourself up to speak, allowing the dance to guide you, you were censored. "an angry dancer" fred astaire called you. when you allowed yourself to display your anger, silently, through dance, you were therein, silenced. under no uncertain terms, you were told to just backslide/moonwalk for the rest of your life, continuing the illusion of moving forward as you are being pushed backwards. it's a lot like life, for anyone trying to free themselves.

i recognize why you were a man of few words.

when you moved, be it on a stage or in a chair, i sensed sadness, frustration and anger. i observed it emanating from myself when i watched you. i felt a wave of nervous energy; not just for you but mostly for myself. over time my feelings for you became conflicted... the role in which you played in my life became unsteady, and i did indeed become upset at myself. i suppose this is all a part of the journey of establishing and securing relationships.

even this moment, the moment i write this, is part of a long journey. there will be more tears, more realizations... more learning to do. but i hope that ultimately i can stand and say my dedication was worth something.

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 56)

2010-07-01T18:07:00.000-07:00

my sister told me last night that she sensed that what i felt for you was obsession... she said she viewed it as such due to her lack of understanding.

we fear what we do not know. we admonish those we do not understand and question the unfamiliar.

with that it's very hard for me to explain my connection to you in a context without appearing 'obsessed'. in many ways, yes, my feelings for you lie beyond the teachings, as you know; but the teachings are the very things guiding our relationship. even describing a teacher/student relationship is difficult, as we've socially become accustomed to the idea of that sort of relationship confirming control and submission. the most important thing you can do, in order to truly learn anything, is to question your teacher. it obviously is not an equal or, even autonomous relationship- the teacher's role is one of guidance- however, any good teacher will acknowledge that lessons can also be learned from students.

i felt compelled to read a recent issue of vibe magazine in the store today, with an article regarding your work with various producers and songwriters in the last couple of years. the word 'redemption' was a part of the title of the article. consciously or unconsciously the author used this to frame the piece, utilizing the operative word in two ways, simultaneously taking on the role of a jury member in the so-called 'court of public opinion'.

on one end you have someone saying that you were in control of every situation on the creative end; on another you're being called "a robot", along with another statement in the article that alludes to your being under control for much of your life.

one of the portions which stuck out to me was a recollection of a conversation you had with ne-yo. "i'm not trying to follow any trends," he recalled of your statement. "i'm not trying to go back in time. i'm just trying to do quality music with a melody that's infectious and has a message." it struck me specifically because i personally realized this sentiment being your goal the whole time- to make art which was memorable and yet, maintain an overarching message of love (framed by the universal laws). in another recollection by akon, you said, "i want these songs to be happy... when people hear it, i want their hearts to be warmed up... i want people to get up and dance. i want them to be full of love."

despite this, as i read the article i could not help but think that the producers and songwriters, as well as the author of the article, continued to relegate you to their vision of what they best saw you doing, and that WAS something in the past. as i told you before, it's difficult to truly see your message and your teachings if you don't bother to look within. you can tell them that you want the outcome of what you do to be consumed by the energy of love, but from what i read in their interviews they were more concerned with their association with 'greatness' and being a part of this process of working on a hit record by a cultural icon. i did not see your teachings passed on to them at all. and they actually got to be in the PHYSICAL presence of a teacher...

again, we revert back to that control/submit relationship. those interviewed were surprised that you'd even open yourself up to hearing their criticisms, when again, that is what an effective teacher does.

the framing of 'redemption' in the article is certainly intriguing here... it obviously states nothing new. at the same time it's directed by a facade of humility. the love of those 'elementary things' you once lamented that people were not able to grasp were lost within all the sentiments of you making attempts to retain your cultural greatness. the article even had you lamenting that you didn't receive as much credit as you deserved for your songwriting skills, in comparison to prince. "i have so much love for prince. but why don't they look at me in the same way?"

again, if we look at living souls as icons and continue to relegate them into a perception of superficial greatness, the whole comparisons between yourself and prince will continue. "we've always been compared to each other, but we are so different." in many ways you are similar to prince, in terms of work ethic, doing your best to maintain a sense of loyalty from those around you; as well as the search for a higher purpose. this is why, ultimately, both you and prince are respected, whether or not people acknowledge this. "he was always viewed as the songwriter and i was always an entertainer."

again, this is the difficulty i have with you... as much of a survivor you are/were, i don't believe you ever truly had faith in your own abilities to heal. i suppose i become upset because i see so much of that quality in myself. i find myself always doing comparisons when they're not necessary.

i find prince to have an immense gift to give to the world; his sense of curiosity and willingness to be a student are phenomenal. i just happen to find you to be an extraordinary instructor, with gifts which have reached me more than i think prince ever will. this is difficult for me to explain in few words.

it makes me sad to think that, with all of your gifts you felt that way about yourself... so beaten down and insecure about your ability to reach the world. you stated openly of your being sent forth to present these things... your faith in that, with statements like the one above, appear to be diminished over time.

the "very open, trusting relationships" you encountered with these producers does not necessarily mean that you trusted them. to be friendly with someone does not guarantee a friendship. when you make statements comparing your talents to prince's, it appears as if you, through that one statement, did not trust your own instincts, at the time.

the thing is, i totally get it. again, i have seen this in myself. i cannot say whether or not you fully trusted your instincts (i cannot be the judge of this). i do know that, having experienced abuse in those 'developmental ages' in my own life it's difficult to know who or what to trust. and opening up to people is misinterpreted as trust.

i am very keen on reading how sentences are framed, so when i see that a relationship is "trusting" i must look at the context in which that relationship occurs. what if it's as simple as trying to find a simple connection, in a world where it's difficult to find?

looking at the word "message" being put in quotations by the author of the article, in relation to your statement about "quality music"... "naive as it may have come off to some jaded music critics, (it) was one of love." it's as if the author either doubts their own writings, or is not sincere in the sentence at all. i have difficulty gathering if this is referring to love of creating 'great music'; in simply wanting to feel good and dance... or is it referring to a truer sense of the teachings- to be able to reach people through that which is vibrational energy...?

how this was all framed... to 'redeem' yourself creatively was the goal of what you were trying to do, in your work with these producers. that was one way. the second mode of 'redemption' relied on the need to be lauded in the same fashion as you were (particularly in this country) during 'thriller'. or before the 1993 and 2005 accusations, respectively. the thing which troubles me about this article was that it consistently contradicted itself, when the one statement- i will repeat it again- represented itself to be the ultimate goal/mission of your creative output:

"...i'm just trying to do quality music with a melody that's infectious and has a message... when people hear it, i want their hearts to be warmed up... i want people to get up and dance. i want them to be full of love."

because all that there is, is the dance.

we fear what we do not know. we admonish those we do not understand and question the unfamiliar. therein lies the context of the article.

i am not even saying that i am a master student of your teachings. there is no way i'd even boast about that. in fact, i feel as if i've just begun in an intermediate period. my 'obsession', if you will, lies in my role as a student. i must remain focused.

thank you for your time in teaching me.

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 55)

2010-06-30T17:51:00.000-07:00

okay... chris brown... i don't want to focus too much of my energy speaking on him necessarily, but all of this is interrelated.

we are conditioned to make heroes out of remnants of that which we idolize... rather, it's not the people we honor, but the cultural traits which resonate. we create idols out of specific characteristics as opposed to looking within ourselves and realize we could bring the same gifts to the table if we applied ourselves pro-actively.

we look to chris brown to being a culturally specific heir to you, michael; but really, it's imperative to know that everything has its place. chris brown can no more take your place than you could take james brown's place. the point is, that wasn't your goal. you embodied what mr. brown has taught you in many ways, though what you did was never designed to take his place. you embodied many cultural signifiers and used those things to enhance your creative output. you never used those signifiers as a crutch.

it seems like in these instantaneous times we use these signifiers as a crutch, so it's easy for someone like chris brown to be called 'the next michael jackson'. it's easy for him to fall back on the things which inspired him, instead of looking within himself to hone his talent. i can't say i am into his music (i know you said you were); but he's had some fame for a number of years, and i'm sure it's because he utilized some of the skills he had on his own to reach audiences. you were just the guide through which he felt inspired. in the midst of this we encourage chris brown to never reach his full potential, because we keep comparing him to you.

and thus, we collectively were upset when he was not allowed to perform on a tribute to you due to his 'domestic abuse' incident, in which he beat up his girlfriend severely... honestly, i feel two ways about it; having grown up in an abusive environment (as you have) i find his actions reprehensible. i think that his performing is too soon. at the same time i cannot be the judge of his level of development or therapy. on another level, how fair is it of me to cast him off as immoral, when i still listen to the music of ike turner, james brown or marvin gaye? shouldn't we hold these artists to the same standards, regardless of generational factors, or whether or not we like their art?

i knew that i didn't want to talk about this all day, but i had to frame it in a way so you'd grasp what i am trying to say. despite everything i just said, his association with you does not sit right with me. i suspect that much of it has to do with the concept of how we view art in these times. for chris brown to perform a few of your songs and emulate a few of your moves does not encompass the true nature of your work, your art and your teachings. the way you moved to me, was a tribute to the ancestors... it was a connection with a spiritual convergence. it was, to paraphrase you, another part of all of us. when i see chris brown i see a singular act, a gesture to iconic symbolism.it's as if he was inspired by performance, and not the message which came with that performance. he is preoccupied by the mechanics of the dance, and not consumed by that which encompasses it. all that there must be for him is, as you once stated, "the dance."

this is the only way to attain that higher purpose.

but alas, he is still young. is this attainment something that is within us the whole time, or is it something we have to strive for, with outside assistance? i believe the question is already answered but we collectively struggle with this in these times.

with that i have not seen this recent performance of his (which so many are discussing), where he cries during his performance of 'man in the mirror'... personally i have no interest in seeing this performance; as i told you before i'm not all that interested in seeing every dedication to you posthumously. i speak of chris brown here in light of the fact that we still have not dealt with ourselves- our HIGHER selves- and yet our dialog moves between whether or not chris brown was sincere in his tears in performance of a song in which the message is about accessing the higher self. he has some demons to deal with for sure; but really, in his dedication to you AND in our sympathetic (or critical) renderings of his performance- not to mention the fact that so many of us are still emotionally attached to the symbols chris brown seemingly echoed/reflected in this performance- can we say that any of us have really heard the message?

this is a call out not just to others, but to myself. i am but a humble student here on this plane, and i aim to do my best in sharing what you have taught me with others.

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 54)

2010-06-29T21:06:00.000-07:00

i know it has been a while since we last spoke in this form, but i needed a lot of room to think... you have been within my heart in other ways so obviously this is not the only way. but this is a way for me to be able to seem to make sense, to myself, and perhaps others...

it has indeed been a full year since your transcendence. within this time the initial stages of grief have come back full circle; i find myself questioning (whether or not you know it) myself, and my feelings. it still does not seem real that you have physically left us, although i have come to terms with you being in a much better place than this. i find great relief knowing this. the contradictions arise aplenty in the circling back of this grief period. i find myself becoming angry at myself and others around me.

i have been feeling very mis-understood and isolated. i have been feeling quite alone in my feelings for you. i feel as if my concerns in terms of your transcendence seem so distant from others' concerns... i realize that people want to reach out but i end up recoiling...

...like, when people ask me if i have seen 'this is it'. people still ask me this to this day. i feel i am very open in my refusal to see this 'movie'. at the same time i realize that everyone does or may not know this. i don't have an emotional attachment to you where i have to see every single thing produced of you posthumously. that is not the relationship i have with you. however, i realize that not everyone knows this. so, when people ask me if i have seen this 'movie' and i tell them that i have not due to my refusal to see it they ask me why. when i tell them my reason (which is that i believe that AEG is the organization which, shall i say, murdered you), people stop and either look at me as if i am crazy, or they become quiet and sort of move away. as if my reasoning holds no value.

again, my relationship to you is not that of fan and icon/celebrity/performer. so i hold no attachments to relics when you are within me the whole time. your teachings remain within me. i cannot be mad at someone who does want to hold on to a 'final' image of you. but i don't think people should expect me to feel the same way. everyone's love for you is not the same.

there's so much more happening than my experiences in discussing this 'movie', but i will leave it there.

despite all this, i feel that the love i have for you is isolating, indeed. just recently i was called 'disturbed', because i openly considered you the greatest teacher to exist on this plane... i do not state that lightly. i will not go into details here as to why i believe this (i think you already know- if others want to know they can ask me). i do truly believe you were speaking from higher levels. what you were speaking was simply, a reflection of us all.

the deeper i get into openly stating your teachings, the more grief i get. as of late i am on the verge of crying myself to sleep sometimes. it's as if everything i am doing is worth nothing. it's like, if you are told something enough times you start to believe it. i know you know how that feels. frankly i am tired of being called crazy, and i know i have learned to be stronger than to think this is the case, but so much of this is killing me in many ways.

there are so many levels to this. i keep looking within myself, and it's hurting. it's circular all over again, like when i was heavily writing the book, the book which began the relationship between me and you. it was very painful to be in that place and now i feel like i'm in the same place. i know i have to hold on (i aim to spread your teachings no matter what) but you have to realize how difficult this is.

i do recognize that what i am experiencing are the levels of that vibrational energy- what i am receiving i may also be presenting... the waves of energy are turbulent within me. sometimes i have so much energy and other times i feel at a loss. i see you, and my heart sinks. because i know there is still so much work to be done. and i know i am not alone but it feels that way most of the time.

sometimes it shows on the outside... but much of the time i DO smile, just like the words of your favourite song. in the past few days, alone in my room, i just cry. amidst the summer sun it's just cloudy inside. i also know that everything in life is a lesson but lately a lot of what i am feeling is mistakes. and that i don't have the capacity to fulfill everything i want to.

something has to change. i am doing my best but in the process it would be nice to have someone on this plane to be there with me.

because sometimes i don't know if even you're hearing me.

if i am loud enough, or if i'm saying the right things, i don't know... i mean, what even IS the right thing?

it's interesting, because i am returning to the quick note you wrote back in 1987- "...most people don't know me, that is why they write such things in which most is not true. i cry very often because it hurts and i worry about the children... 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 i still must achieve i must seek truth in all things."

all these things people say about me, and the looks they give, i know that it's all about perception but sometimes it hurts. well, a lot of the time it hurts. and it's been hurting a lot more lately than usual.

love,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 53)

2010-02-28T22:45:00.000-08:00

it is a little past the 8th month, teacher, but i have been feeling your spirit now more than ever... today you have decided to take a rest. the past few days though, you've been working hard.

last night, after coming home from an event i began to speak with you out loud. i asked you if there was anything you wanted me to say to certain people. since the day i felt your spirit enter me (on the 24th) your energy has been getting stronger and stronger, yet i still ask what it is you want. are you just stopping by to say hello, or are you asking for something more?

so as i rode home i asked you out loud if there was anything you wanted me to say to certain people. and just like on the 24th i felt my eyes water... i asked if you were okay, and i think i heard you say you were okay, and that you felt better than the day before. i kept asking if you were sure you were okay, and i felt you getting impatient with me... i know it may seem like i'm pestering you, teacher, but i just want to be clear.

when i said out loud that i loved you, that's when the tears came. i don't ever recall tears streaming down my face in this way when i told you i loved you... this just started happening, since the 24th... the energy between us is so different now. i feel extra sensitive to your energy. there are certain words which trigger tears or certain images which i feel a slight surge of your energy enter me. i feel this energy and i still wonder if i am alone, if i am crazy or if i am just hearing/visualizing things... is it really your energy i am feeling?

well, as i said, if you ever need me, you know i am right here...

your humble student,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 52)

2010-01-25T00:53:00.000-08:00

it's fairly safe to say that these seven months have come to us at a rate faster than imagined. in light of this it's hard to even remember this is 2010. it seems like this news hit just yesterday.

alas, the number 7 is of some significance to you though... it is the number of spiritual and physical regeneration. of course, because people may expect something big from you in this month due to the number's importance to your character, will this day pass as uneventful? or... shall you wait until tuesday the 26th, when there will be a mass release of your film?

it's interesting that this month has lent to itself its share of challenges for many... with many mini-battles amongst individuals, with two major earthquakes in haiti we may be left wondering where love is... but we must realise that it is always here. is this a lesson for all of us to learn in this seventh month? are we to heed the message of regeneration? those of us who are physically left here on this earth must call on which we already know, as well as what we have learned from the ancestors.

i have deferred to you many times this past week, teacher. it has been a fairly bad week, emotionally. it was all my heart could take so many times to just smile (and sing the song which you love so much of the same name) and all i heard was exactly what you told me some time ago in a dream: 'you know what to do.' and i know you know how hard it is for me to hear that. but that's all you told me.

i know you're right, but still... i just need to believe, right?

i know that with all that's going on, your heart is aching too. but we all are in number 7. and we shall get through this. together.

your humble student,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 51)

2009-12-16T02:14:00.000-08:00

this piece came to me as i was watching the now-ubiquitous (to me, anyway) videos of you in performance... 1975; you turned 17 that year. your crown shining, as you floated past your siblings... as i watched you i struggled with my anger as i reflected upon my own past, my gaze simultaneously filled with wonderment at your utter beauty. the only word i could think of, is 'perfection'.

in the end, your looks don't matter (particularly since you'd never be 17 forever, and besides, true beauty transcends physical form) but i must stop to celebrate the poetry of your... of that moment, ceased in time on a relic. within all the words i have written thus far, i find myself to be speechless. just read the piece, my teacher. it's actually the first piece i recall writing in about 4 years.

(note: this was finished at 8:17 am on 15 december 2009)

patience
is what i have learned from you
and what i am to continue to learn
as i watch you spin
effortlessly
i marvel at how
GOD
could create anyone so perfect
simultaneously acknowledging that no one
actually is
perfect
your large brown eyes
so deep
and your features
so strong as
the ocean where some of your ancestors
were perhaps
buried

as you effortlessly spin i give in to the urge
to marvel at your perfection
i ask how GOD could create a being
so
beautiful
a graceful swan emerging from the throes of
adolescence
head thrown back in ecstasy of the
passion play of an evening's
performance
rapturously
effortlessly
spinning

your vibrato quakes my spine and moves to my insides
as you sing about love
and loneliness
as if someone so perfect
could be so lonely.
you take me to places i should
never
imagine going
who am i to think i could reach you
when the oasis is broken
with GOD'S cruel jokes
of blemishes
or
getting caught in a microphone cord
or
a parent to say that your perfection is
meaningless

and as i watch you gracefully glide across the floor
i angrily question how someone can challenge your
perfection,
how a man from whose seed you were born
could make such remarks

then i return to what you have taught me.

your humble student,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 50)

2009-11-25T02:19:00.000-08:00

today marks the 5th month where your presence has been felt in a different way... it is, of course, a mystery as to how this day five months ago came to be. there are so many holes in the story it's no wonder that there have been theories that this event was indeed, a hoax... that you will return in physical form at some point, when you are ready.

in many ways this theory makes me very happy, as it means that you are under the facade of remaining out of the spotlight, just relaxing from the 45 years you'd performed nonstop. most likely this is wishful thinking; if you actually were still alive you'd most likely be working on some upcoming project, to shock the people even more. honestly my teacher... i say this with love. if indeed you are still here walking amongst us, you need to STOP WORKING right now, and take the time out to care for yourself. do what you wished for your mentor/teacher, james brown: step back and enjoy your life. enjoy your children while you still can.

but let's go back where we started and discuss your transcendence as it stands... it is as i said, the fifth month. i should always sense the so-called 'anniversary's' presence, since i acquire a deep unexplained sadness, and i begin to cry... i also have extremely fragmented dreams, which go nowhere. you appear in and out of them. this happens every time.

i cried on the bus, on the way back to portland... my head rested on the window. i should also know when the 'anniversary' is coming up, because i tend to feel a overwhelming sense of loneliness, as i review my life as it stands. i think about if i will ever have children in my life; i also think about how i don't want to raise those children on my own. i think about if everything i am doing has been done in vain. whether or not i believe this is the case any other time of the year does not even matter, as it is THAT MOMENT where i question everything.

and "i cry", as you once sang, "sometimes cos i'm confused". i think spontaneity is very good for someone like me (and travelling to san francisco was a good reminder of how much more spontaneous i need to be- and how much more spontaneous i USED to be. i lose so much of a sense of it living here in portland), and as much as i love this i also seek out some sort of stability. there are also so many things i want to do... spontaneity assists me in getting there, but i also need stability if i'm going to finish what i began. i long to roam and wander; but the older i get i clamor for a 'home life'. i want to be able to know i accomplished something, and i can look back and know that i did something positive in the world.

as i was crying there was something i wanted to say to you but i couldn't figure it out in time enough to tell you. i had a lot of questions but they were all so jumbled.

but yes, i did in fact go to san francisco for a few days... i did go for you, my dear teacher. i wanted to represent some of the things you have taught me. there is an event called 'prince vs. michael' (i have written about it to you before, as they do it sometimes in portland as well). the event, which took place on the 21st, was in san francisco. it was also the 7th anniversary of the event, where it's not so much of a battle than an honoring of the art of you and mr. nelson. dave and jeff, who put on the events, put a lot of love into what they are doing. they are good people.

going into the event, i only knew the people who were putting on the event. by the end i met so many wonderful, kind people. i ended up teaching some people some of your moves, and i did the 'thrillerdance' twice- once with a whole bunch of people and the other with one other person. i didn't even realise so many pictures were taken until a bunch were sent to me. people were amused that i had come all the way from portland to this event, and they wanted me to come to san francisco more often to the event, and to teach some classes. someone even jokingly suggested i move there...

one thing i did notice was that the people who were advocates of prince (the prince contingent, if you will) were very self-assured. they were self-assured, but far from pretentious. they gave me hugs, and big smiles. i thought of my sister when i saw them, and i thought of my friend barry. both of them love prince, and are quite self-assured people. of course i am making a widespread generalization (and i could be totally wrong), but this is based on the people i have met, and known. i am going to make another sweeping generalization here: people who i have known and met, and who love you tend to be somewhat sad.

i think the people who love you and your art recognise the pain you present. even though prince may have had pain in his life he presents his art to be boisterous. though in my opinion it's difficult to compare the both of you, i just wanted to say i noticed a general sort of attitude those who love prince have, and the one those who love you have.

nevertheless, the event was a whole lot of fun, and proved, in the end, if the music moves you then nothing will stop you. my legs and feet were in pain the next day; i was dancing from about 8pm until 2 in the morning, virtually non-stop. all that was left was, as you love to say, the dance. there were times it got very emotional for me, and i almost cried... it was as if your spirit were moving through me.

is it possible you were watching over me when i was in california? was it my intuition and my desire for spontaneity which led me to certain events?

the next day dave took me to a record shop (because whenever i travel somewhere i must see the record shops) where i met a man (also named michael) who met you some time ago... he saw the buttons on my jacket, asked if i was a fan and proceeded to tell me the story of how you two met. it was after the record shop was closed, of course; and you signed a record for him. he was a very sincere person. when he was contacted by news stations to speak on what he thought of you, he declined, knowing that his words would be twisted.

i'm sure that's very familiar to you...

the next day (which was my last day in san francisco) was a day of highs and lows... in wandering about this town (which i have not previously been) i opened myself up to more positive experiences; but in between was some sobering news. within one hour i found out a friend of mine was diagnosed with breast cancer, and another friend with hearing loss. upon hearing this news i wasn't compelled to go out and 'live life to the fullest' any more than i already think we should; nor was it a reminder of the impermanence of life. it was what it was, it is what it is. however, you don't always expect to hear news of this sort, in the middle of wandering about.

as sad as that news was to hear, i decided not to dwell on it, as these are strong-willed, resilient people. i walked on and on that day for hours on end, just wandering... i ran into a chiropractic office with a copy of some information on the toxic ingredients in influenza vaccines, from a chiropractic perspective. i was intrigued, as that is not something i see every day. i walked in and asked if there was an extra copy of what was on the window outside, and a man screamed, "i have those buttons!" he exclaimed how he was the biggest fan of yours! it turns out that he was on a flight to london on the 25th of june, when he heard the news about you. he was going to go see you in concert. he even showed people on the plane what he was going to wear to your concert. since he could not see your show (due to the events which occurred) he instead saw 'thriller live' in the theatre. he also spent two days in 2005 in front of the courthouse, when you were on trial, supporting you.

and so of course i interviewed him.

these moments are what i miss; not having to plan things with others. just working around the excitement people share, and being open to whatever happens. i long for life in portland to be like this...

by the end of the day, my legs hurt so much from over four hours of walking- and by the time i got back to portland i developed swollen ankles. i could hardly walk without extreme pain, due to also sitting on a bus for almost 20 hours. but it was truly worth it. i hope i have honored your teachings...

during the bus trip we had to change over, stopping in sacramento. i occupied my time there by people watching (something i love to do) and reading some books i brought with me. there are no longer coin-operated televisions at greyhound stations apparently; they are now replaced with flat-screens perched just below the ceiling. it's quite distracting to have this blaring noise (even if it's not even that loud). being that i have not watched television regularly in 15 years, it's easy for me to not get sucked into the cathode rays. so, amongst my people watching i spot a young girl at a vending machine, sighing dramatically.

i asked her what was wrong. she pointed to the candy bar, stuck in between relinquishing its spot and protecting the other bars from being eaten. she lamented that she was getting the candy bar for her mother, and that she now lost money. i told her i would offer to get her another one, so that both bars would come out. she declined my offer.

moments passed, and i run to get change to get the candy bar.

i walked up to the little girl's mother, two candy bars in tow. she offered me one of them, and i just said no, it's okay. i think she mentioned that i did not have to do that, and i believe i said something to the effect of, 'it's okay...' i returned to my spot to wait for the bus and proceeded to read, when i looked up and saw someone walking towards me. it was this little girl whose mother was now enjoying her candy bars. she reached out and gave me a hug. she said, 'GOD BLESS YOU'. i asked her what her name was; she responded, 'justice'. i told her my name, and we shook hands. we bid each other safe travels.

that moment could not have been more perfect. justice? my teacher... were you watching this?

as the night wore on into the next day; in between reading i look up to find on this screen perched up near the ceiling, a report on how the doctor who supposedly was the man to give you a bunch of drugs before the fatal moment- is back at his office, at work. could this experience at the bus station get any more surreal?

delving back into my reading, i hear your name being called nearby... are these the ancestors calling again? i hear your name again, to find out there is a conversation being held about you. must i be called to 'set some things straight'? we shall see.

i walked over to the men having this conversation. when i told them i heard your name being called, one of them mentioned the context: there is always a case whenever you are dealing with women and children. i proceed to tell them to read the full transcripts of the trial, which are of course, online. in my reading of the transcripts i find, just like this case surrounding your transcendence, the two major cases concerning the allegations against you to have many holes. the prosecution was not credible.

but let's not dwell on the past like that... one of the men had one of your songs on his telephone- or some sort of i-pod or something. i proceeded to dance. i even showed them the dolls... i'm sure they thought i was crazy (at least that's what i read from their looks, body language and laughter) but i don't really care... i'm just sharing what you have taught me.

i returned to portland, and on the next day i worked, on this day, marking the 5th month... has time passed quickly, or has it ceased to move? surely, it waits for no one. therefore, in this time i will continue to learn from you, and share all you have taught, and are teaching me.

it was indeed wonderful to return home to lumbia, where she curls up on my lap (then paces back and forth, speaking loudly until she falls asleep) as i write this... when i returned, she looked at me with her wide eyes and asked, 'you went all the way to san francisco, for HIM?' and in turn i say to her, 'ah, my friend, someday i hope to take you there, and perhaps you will know...'

and she will.

it's been a while since we last spoke in this way my dear teacher, but i hope you've been hearing me loud and clear the whole time.

your humble student,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 49)

2009-10-30T06:08:00.000-07:00

once again, i am beginning to feel pretty alone... in this time of mourning i still feel alone. so many are wrapped up in the wonder of your performance when ultimately, in the end none of that really matters to me.

i am quite open in my refusal to pay money to see the film which supposedly documents the rehearsals for the tour you claimed to be your final. "this is it!" you exclaimed. you already know how upset i was with you initially for agreeing to do the dates, even if it was only 10 dates you announced. but all that is unimportant now i suppose, as you were going to perform anyways. and since you were, yes, i did attempt to get a ticket (and you know how that went)... i really was upset at you though; i kept saying that there was no need for you to please some fans... they'd be okay if you just announced you were retiring from a life of performance to raise your three children without fail, or interruption.

then the inevitable occurred.

and so now, sony is documenting it. and they paid $60 million to get the rights to do that.

and so yes, i feel alone in my refusal to pay money to see this film. the general response is that i am missing out on the wonder that is you, and that the film is magical, and that you are a genius.

well, aside from the fact that i don't believe in the concept of the genius- we all shine in our own ways- i do not doubt that you have absolutely brilliant moments in the film. of COURSE you do; it is you! the thing is, i don't need to watch a bunch of clips edited to display the wonderment. and if this is going to be an actual DOCUMENTARY, i want to see the sad and the dark moments as well. i don't just want to see the wonderment. i want to see the backstage struggles you had with AEG in terms of dealing with contracts. i want to see your reservations about performing 50 shows- which is too much for ANYBODY, i might add. i want to see your struggles with insomnia, and maintaining the grueling schedule. i want to see you hunched over in pain. because this is what it appeared to be, just from looking at seconds of footage from the rehearsal which surfaced immediately after the news of your transcendence. i did not find you to be as healthy looking as so many others claimed you looked.

my heart went out to you because i wanted you to rest. i did not want you to perform. ever again.

and of course, you are resting now... for sure.

and so i refuse to agree with their profiting off of your transcendence. and so i feel alone because so many others are emotionally enraptured by your brilliance. for me though, the brilliance is not in your performance. that is not why i consider you my teacher. anyone can perform; it's what and how you teach that make the performances stand out.

but so many people are telling me i should go see this 'documentary'. and without arguing or discounting their passion for the film how do i say 'no'?

and of course, what if this is all a major trick, planned by you the whole time? what if this event was orchestrated.. what if all of it were orchestrated? that WOULD actually be a brilliant act. however...

for me that argument does not add up, as none of the money is going to some sort of non-profit. it does not add up for me.

i will continue to ask for guidance...

your humble student,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 48)

2009-10-29T05:21:00.000-07:00

i had the most surreal dream before i woke up last... and you were in it. this holds significance because it's the first clear dream i have had of you since all of this happened... all of the other dreams i had with you were so hazy. i'd see you, but you'd weave in and out, and i could never remember why you were there.

but this time, you saw me, and acknowledged me. just like all the other times.

still, there was a difference.

it was in the lobby of a bowling alley, in a bar/restaurant... you were sitting alone at a table, looking as you looked today (or this year). i approached you, and you smiled. i mentioned to you that i wanted to talk with you about the book i was writing (but had since stopped, since your transcendence); and before you could even respond, a mass of people appeared in between us. the words they were speaking were incoherent... i just know that somehow they wanted to be closer to you.

i became a bit sad, as i really wanted to speak with you about the book. i am still looking for guidance on it. as the crowd closed around you, you became transparent. i could see through you. the sounds around me became quieter and of less significance, as i sat down next to the crowd, clamoring for your attention. they were still acting as if you were not invisible.

the sounds were drowned out now, by my focus on an older couple, about 80 years old... initially, they were sitting next to each other, cuddling. about a minute later they were sitting across from one another, playing with objects on the table- salt and pepper shakers, utensils... they moved them around like chess pieces, then played with them as if they were dolls. they made a family of the items on the table. i looked at how much fun they were having with each other, and i began crying.

and then i woke up.

of course i am not sure what this means... does this mean i have acknowledged your transcendence in ways i could now be comfortable with? i don't know. does this mean you are soon returning as another physical form? i cannot say. does this mean you have actually given me an answer about the book? i am still trying to figure that out.

perhaps these answers may never come to me. perhaps they already did.

your humble student,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 47)

2009-10-26T04:32:00.000-07:00

despite speaking with you everyday outside of the written word, i felt i needed to come back here and process things in this way... as of today it has indeed been four months since your transcendence; and it wouldn't be crazy of me to say that i still cry. in fact, just a couple of hours ago tears streamed down my face, thinking about the impact you have made, and most likely will never be made again by anyone else. there are people who certainly come close. but how many people can create a global phenomenon through one dance- a dance which people have painstakingly learned for weeks at a time, just to present it to the world.

this year i believe it was said to have been about 200,000 people (at least) all around the world who danced in your honor. i was one of those people, my teacher. i was the one in the wolf mask. last year, you looked down from a helicopter in L.A. to watch it (and i could imagine the joy on your face!). now, you can watch us all. you can watch us all do this dance, in honor of the joy you have given us through your art.

for me, i cannot say you have totally given me joy through your art... even though you have made me smile, for sure; mostly you have given me moments of intense sadness (through identification) and introspection. i have learned so much from you because of this. still, it does give me great joy to see so many around the world share one thing with each other. as you have written: "(we) keep on dancing and then, it is the eternal dance of creation. the creator and creation merge into one wholeness of joy. (we) keep on dancing and dancing... and dancing, until there is only... the dance."

in watching so many clips of people dancing around the world at the same time i did cry tears of joy... which turned into tears of grief. i thought about how i may never encounter another person as complicated, as intricate, as multi-dimensional, as wounded, as shy, as sensitive, as vulnerable, as learned, as joy-inducing, as contradictory, as caring, as lonely, as withdrawn, as revealing... as you.

and it makes me sad to know that i could never tell you how much you have taught me.

there is just so much to say but i will leave it at this right now, and speak with you outside of the written word.

thanks for listening; i'm sure the this month has been real busy for you.

speak soon,
your humble student,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 46)

2009-09-26T07:41:00.000-07:00

look, i am going to be frank with you... it has been THREE MONTHS.

in the course of these three months i have been feeling hopeless, depressed, relieved, upset, confused, happy, conflicted... sometimes all in the same day.

but all of a sudden all of these tapes have been surfacing with your voice. i have fought with myself about whether or not to listen to them. but as in everything else i have fought about with you i decided to listen to some of them. the infinite sadness in your voice was so startling... i mean, i knew of some of the things you spoke of, and i even recognized your sadness from listening to interviews with you. but still, there was something which greatly startled me. it could be because some of these things i still see in myself. and i wonder if you did too... i wonder if there was ever a time, outside of being on the stage and outside of being with children, were you ever truly happy.

...and i wonder how, after all these years of being in total control, when you felt you may have lost control...

i feel so compelled to write so much after listening to you, but i am not sure of what to do. i feel this mental cloud that just won't go away. sometimes it still breaks for showers, and every so often there's even a break of sunshine. but overall the climate has not changed. the lack of seasons gets tiring after a while. however, seasons last for three months, so maybe, just maybe...

your humble student,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 45)

2009-09-22T03:17:00.000-07:00

i am still trying to wrap my head around things still... i can laugh at some things actually (for a change) but you still weigh heavy on my mind. and not to mention feeling alone in this political situation, but that's a whole other story...

i have become quite obsessed in reading the many theories which have been popping up, about you still being physically here. that you are hiding out in switzerland... that you will return in a year... that you are alive and well in a drug treatment centre... that you faked everything because your 'death certificate' was not signed by a doctor (your sister signed it). that the movie coming out is going to explain the whole hoax. there are so many of them, it sort of makes me laugh.

i am still trying to make sense of you NOT being here still, and now this... is it wishful thinking, or supposed scientific fact? why can't people just accept the cycle of life, that your purpose on this earth was not physical immortality. i mean, the theories get more and more elaborate and detailed, as if presenting a transcript for an opening statement for a case or deposition. as detailed as it all looks, it still sounds fairly un-credible.

but still, the curiosity has gotten the best of me. i look into those large, deep, dark eyes of yours (the most beautiful eyes ever) and i still feel you. when i get lonely sometimes, i feel you. frankly i look at all of this, and i just laugh to myself.

or is it wishful thinking?

and yes, with my obsession about these theories, it just furthers the acknowledgement that i haven't gotten over you yet. this is getting to be a bit much... i have never had a grieving period this long before. i walked into a store, and i THOUGHT i heard your voice, with that signature hiccup/scream. but i couldn't figure out what song it could be. and then the music became clearer and clearer. and then i froze up, and i began to sink. i felt really stuck, when everyone else was moving along, doing their shopping. it's like, WHY did you have to be on AT THAT MOMENT!!?? then someone who worked there asked if i was finding everything okay. i'm sure he saw the trouble on my face, but i couldn't tell him what i was feeling at that point. i just don't have the energy anymore to explain any of this to people. when i left the store i just felt kind of sick. it's like everything you've ever done just flashed before me... there was no distinction of time, or of space.

this is the thing: why does love always feel so destructive to me? if i love you, i should be happy for you, right? you are in a better place. but this undeniable sadness is proving to dominate my spirit at random times. if it were actually the case that you were by some chance, still physically here, would it make my sadness go away? probably not. because i still would not know if you've heard me.

i do wonder if you will ever speak to me again, in some vision or dream... or are you so busy making sense of all the other dreams?

your humble student,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 44)

2009-09-15T03:02:00.000-07:00

yes, i know. i know... it is true. you are not physically here. i keep telling myself this, but your presence haunts me, to the point where you never left. i'm not even sure how to explain this. your presence actually seems more tangible to me now, than when you WERE here. i feel stifled, and i don't really get it. i am frustrated that i cannot move. is this a major aspect of grief that i am still feeling?

i listen to you, and it feels so incredibly strange to do that. i mean, it's stranger than ever before. it's like, the notes are all different or something. it's like, there is something different in your eyes, your smile. i feel this lingering anxiety in all of it, that i cannot explain.

there is this film of you coming out now... they took footage of your rehearsals. they took hundreds of hours of footage and narrowed it down to a couple of hours. i am essentially opposed to this, but what can i do? i feel so powerless at this point, and alone. before i went to sleep my brain was working overtime, asking you all of these questions... how you feel about that, what would you have done... why are they making this film, why are they exploiting you? and as i was trying to get to sleep i heard someone calling my name... and i wondered if it was you calming me. because right after i heard my name i soon went to sleep.

i see you, and i see your smile, and they don't match with anything you are saying. it just doesn't connect. everything about all the magic and wanting to create it; everything about the love and its connection to the dance... i have been looking at so many of your photographs and all i am beginning to see is a reflection of pain. and obviously i wonder if what i am seeing is just a reflection of myself.

i said i wasn't gonna get any of those commemorative magazines to you... whatever those publications do it will be of no justice to you. they could never capture the essence of what you mean to me. but i have been getting them, and finding all of these images- ones i have seen many times, and ones i have never seen before. and in each image i find something new. and i keep telling myself to put you away for awhile. stop looking at these images. distance myself from the grief. i am trying to convince myself. but i can't look away. it's not that i'm trying to face my grief head on- i'm already deep in it. i am just still trying to make sense of this grief for you... someone i never even really knew, but has impacted my life in ways you could never know.

sometimes i get mad at myself and the voice starts going off... and people are STILL telling me, after almost three months, people who have not seen me since all of this happened, that i was the first person they thought about... i just want it to stop. i want the voices to stop. it's becoming hard to take, all the screaming happening in my head. i feel like all these people are screaming at me, and i don't know which way to go.

i just sigh... it's like tears are always on the surface. it's like this never ending sadness. but WHY? and even if i saw the film which is to be released next month of you it would be too painful to watch. because it's like you are there, and you're not. watching videos of you prior to all of this is still painful but i can deal with it... but now... all of this is just so surreal.

and with all these other people transcending right now as well, it just doesn't seem as strange. i recognize the cycle of life; the certainty of physical finality. but for you, even though i have accepted it it's still too difficult to grasp. because it feels like you are here.

lisa (my housemate) came back from italy, and brought me back this special edition of a european magazine. on the front lay a strip which read, "...n'est pas mort." it read that you are not dead. as i don't particularly like the word 'dead' and choose to believe that bodies transcend, i would concur. however i wonder if they are referring to you as a representation of cultural iconography. for me though, it hit me now more than ever with you how the soul does indeed live forever.

i feel you. it's becoming harder and harder to explain, but i do. and i do become frustrated by it, because as i mentioned to you before, i don't feel like i could love another person. it makes no sense, does it? i did not KNOW you. but people will never know the depths of the relationship i had with you. this is why it's so difficult, and frustrating. and it sounds like i am running in circles here.

it's not like if i 'moved on' i'd feel like i'd be hurting you (how could i?). i just feel as if the extent of the relationship i had with you could never be repeated. and, for better or for worse, i cherished what we had and i don't want that to change. as angry as i got with you i don't want that to change. your qualities could never be replaced and i do wonder if there would be someone with comparable qualities. i'm too fearful to find out. because i don't want to ruin anything. i don't want the rejection.

you see? i feel at a loss. with your transcendence, with my still coming to terms with it. with still trying to figure out what our true connection was. with why i can't just 'move on' like everybody else. with what i should do with this book i was writing.

what is it you said? to not take the talents given to you and have them cultivate and grow is "the biggest sin in the world." but tell me, where does this lie with me? how do i take what i have done (with my intention to share with the world) and not exploit you? how do i take my grief and share it with people? where do i find these people to share the grief with? i feel like there's so many things coming at me at once- do this, do that- but i can't tell where they're coming from.

and even through all of the pain in those images i discussed earlier, there is a beauty in you which could never be exploited, no matter how hard people try. this is what i am trying to get to, in the end... but first i need to glide past all the voices screaming at me.

in the end, what really matters?

...

thank you for listening, dear teacher.

your humble student,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 43)

2009-09-06T03:51:00.000-07:00

this is another quick one, teacher... there is so much violence in the world. i know you know this, but the older we get it becomes clearer. or closer. the hope of childhood you always speak of, has been replaced with cynicism and power grabs. in learning about you and becoming connected with you i learned patience; and the child in me returned.

i'm sure you are so busy. i know i wondered if you were resting before, right after your transcendence, but now, since your physical is now buried in the earth you came from, i'm sure you'd like to have some time to yourself. you've spent so much energy on this earth doing your best to make people happy. but it was a whole lot of work, because there is so much emotional and physical violence.

but i have been calling you- as i am sure many have- and i haven't heard from you in some time. there is only so much you can handle. but i finally heard your name being called again, whispered amongst music playing at work. once again, i didn't know if it was you or the ancestors who had been doing it before. but it was comforting to know you were still around.

however, i got progressively sadder throughout the day. it was this inexplicable sadness. when people asked why i was sad, i just said your name. i am still extremely heartbroken over you. i am at a loss about everything right now. people ask me what i think about everything- your funeral, the way you transitioned, all of it- and at first what seemed assured now turns into self-doubt. and it all turns into depression.

i need to know. i just need to know.

and all this sadness turned into confusions, seeming miscommunication and tragic events.

do you remember richard, the man i told you about? well, i just found out he has transcended, as of a couple of hours ago... please show him around, okay teacher? i'm sure you will like him, he's a very nice person.

there is also someone i know who was arrested yesterday, just for taking photographs of an arrest. the irony about this is that just a week ago, i was with alan, and he was snapping pictures of an arrest (with a flash!) and nothing happened to us. i already told you about that. nevertheless, chris was arrested, and had his phone and camera confiscated (and i'm sure they have pulled up numbers on his phone)... he was in jail for 12 hours, detained and handcuffed. when he asked to drink some water, they pointed to the toilet. these people get trained and paid to dehumanize and abuse people.

and to top it off, i saw a video of a martial arts/karate class gone violent... karate is translated into 'empty hand', yet some folks are filled with ego. in this video (which apparently was from 1984) a senior black belt student literally beats up another man until he is bleeding from his head or ear (he kicked the man in the head), and they drag him away, like a pig or cattle at a slaughterhouse. the man ended up succumbing to the injuries- brain damage, i am sure. i was not expecting this to happen in the video, and i ended up feeling sick after watching it.

so right now, i need some positive thoughts... good thoughts. the one really good thing which happened was at work. i saw these three girls (one looked about 6, the other two looked around adolescent/pre-teen age). all three of them were extremely dark, with velvety-smooth skin. their skin was absolutely perfect. their beauty just stopped me in my tracks. they were these three young girls who were most likely running an errand for their family member or parent; just going about their day. i felt compelled to openly admire their beauty, and i did. i told one of the girls (she seemed to be the 'head' sister; the most assertive one) and she thanked me. her tone made it seemed like they were complimented on their beauty more often than not. i should hope so.

yes, i do realize, teacher, than out of all the sadness comes a ray of light. still, you must admit that it is hard to maintain a smile all the time. i had to find a space to cry at work... i have to remember , "life is still worthwhile..." i fight for peace of mind, but i also want to fight for the end of the cycles of abuse.

i ask you to be there with me in this fight, my teacher.

your humble student,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 42)

2009-09-05T04:56:00.000-07:00

with everything that is going on, my heart does not sit well... sometimes i find myself talking out loud to you, asking you questions, never knowing whether or not you hear me... i have a growing need to know how you are... i need to be assured.

i did NOT watch your burial yesterday, i refused to. i can only assume it was televised, as some people have commented that your funeral was making them cry. i would rather just have what we shared in my heart, without being influenced by a camera's perspective; putting you away like the end of a chapter, frozen in time... but a song you once sang made me think of you in this time, this time the lyrics have changed a bit though:

"your physical is truly gone/but know your love survives, with this you live forever..."

will your soul finally get to rest now? will the form you took on in this plane finally be left alone? are you just shaking your head in confusion and wonderment, or just knowing fascination? my heart is heavy and i feel so confused right now. this is all i have to say today... i mean, there is so much more, but what i would say would just sound convoluted. i'm just waiting to hear from you...

hey, one more thing... if you ever see someone named richard (he was my colleague in radio) please tell him hello for me... he had a heart attack recently and then his brain collapsed too... his family took him off life support because he was not really responding, and struggling so much. so teacher, if you see him within the next days, weeks or month or so, please tell him i say hello, and thank you.

your humble student,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 41)

2009-08-29T23:30:00.000-07:00

teacher, i know this day was so full, but i feel so empty right now... my heart was ready and open for the opportunities to come but right now i sit here writing this to you, and it is broken. i type, and the screen becomes blurry until i wipe the tears... this is becoming all too much... too much for me to even fathom.

i know you were there with the world on your day... it seemed like everywhere it rained just a little, and then the sun came out. i had a deep feeling you would be there with all of us, just smiling. as i was riding towards the park where the day for you was going to be held, i said to myself, 'it's gonna be a good day'... as it drizzled for a few minutes here i thought perhaps it was you crying, cleansing the environments of all the august 29ths you were physically here... and now, this is the first one where you were not. and you wanted everything to be fresh for us. this is a new life; a new formation you have taken on.

i got between 20 minutes and one hour of sleep, before i had to get up and go prepare for the event in your honor... despite being fairly delirious from a lack of sleep a wave of endorphins fell over me, because i knew that this was YOUR DAY, and it would be good. after all this time of preparing the radio show and this day, it was finally here. sleep did not really seem to be an option. it was 7 am when i left the house; the clouds were still out, and it was a bit cool, but you just knew the clouds were gonna let some sunshine in...

i went to the one store that was open at 7 am, to pick up the last of the supplies needed for the event. there were so many things i had strapped on to the back of my bicycle, i was not sure how i was going to lug it all into the store. there was a man standing around in the area where the bicycles were parked. i asked him if he were going to be standing there for a while. when he said yes i asked him if he could watch my stuff, and he was kind enough to. as the store was large, sometimes it's difficult to navigate quickly, in terms of time. i appreciate this man's patience, because i exited the store in what seems like 20 minutes. i told him that i was having an MJ event in the park, and that he should stop by. he seemed interested. he mentioned other events going on during the day as well.

as i placed my purchases on the bicycle, another man happened to be standing there: tony two hearts. as the bicycle fell over due to the weight of everything on it, he helped me to prevent the bicycle from completely falling over. thus beginning a relationship i will never forget.

as he noticed i have dressed as you, dear teacher, he proceeded to inform me that he was once a barry white impersonator. he then sang one of my favourite barry white songs. he actually did look not unlike barry white; with enough effort (and make-up) he'd greatly resemble him. he told me we'd make a great team of impersonators. i told him i was not an impersonator, but he sort of ignored this statement. he also continuously flirted with me, hoping i'd be his wife one of these days. he said that when he got to heaven he'd leave me everything. we would then meet again in the afterlife and seal a further bond, proving to everyone that our relationship lasted. despite having just met, he mentioned to everyone he spoke to that i was his 'lady friend'.

in most cases i would have critiqued or screamed on him immediately. there has to be a line of interaction which must be respected. i am not sure where it was developed in a man's brain that every woman would react favourably to a man's advances. somehow, i found something in tony immediately, that was different than most men who do the same thing. it was as if he was sent to me on purpose.

i told him where i was gonna be, and that he should come. as i was setting up, he showed up, and stayed for most of the day. initially he kept trying to sell the idea that i should be the lady in his life, but he did recognize that wasn't going to happen. he did leave for a brief period of time, to return as your 'bad' album was playing. i cannot recall which song he returned on; all i know is that when he returned, the songs represented the lead narration in what has unfolding... 'another part of me' rolled into 'man in the mirror'... as the lyrics of self-reflection emanated from the speakers, tony (whose birth name is lawrence; he is part irish and part samoan and initially identified as black) cried out that he wished all the hatred in the world would cease. tears rolled down his face as he wished for people to understand him. he just wanted people to be nice to him... why were people so mean to him? his head pointed to the sky, and he cried, and cried... and cried. the tears rolling down his cheeks, he embraced me. he said that he wanted there to be no more sadness in the world; he loved to make people happy, so he dances and sings.

each song which passed virtually matched with what he spoke of, as if those songs were an extension of himself. he opened up to me about so much, the bad and the good. he spoke of love, of violence in his childhood... of the advice his father gave him. he reminded me so much of you, teacher. i told him that you two were so similar.

the day went by so quickly... the first people to show up at the event were a mother, father and child, from arizona. the father signed something in the book i set out for you... he put down a poem he wrote for you. the mother spoke of how she put on a memorial for you when you transcended (in arizona), and no one showed up. she saw the poster for the event in the park, and she said he had to stop by. she had only been in portland for three days at that point.

then a woman (who grew up in new york city) and her child show up... people were really interested in the setup i did (especially the dolls)...

i even set up some cheese enchiladas for you, because i knew you loved them. i left a space where people could offer you things, and people offered everything from cookies, chips (tortilla and potato), fruits and cake, to a keychain.

there were so many types of people there... people recovering from drug addiction, parents, children, musicians... some weren't even aware of the event, and decided to hang out for a while, and talk about what you meant to them. the day was so positive, and touching. people wrote in the book set out for you, and they showed their love in so many different ways...

i know you were speaking, my dear teacher, because so many children happened to show up! children i didn't even know, nor did they even have a connection with what was going on (they were there for a whole other reason- a get-together for other purposes... a back to school gathering, and a birthday party). but they loved and admired you, and they got such joy out of your music. all the kids kept asking for 'beat it' and 'thriller'! they kept playing with your doll likenesses... they kept looking at photos of you... they went on and on about how much they loved you, and how you were the 'king of pop'. jesse, in particular, kept yelling about how you were his hero. umu continuously interpreted your moves her way, including the 'grab'... cameron was having his 4th birthday party, and he danced right along with the other kids to your music. these kids were not even old enough to catch you on 'motown 25' when it originally came on, but you resonated with them in ways that are inimitable. their love for you was so sincere. the way you have reached many generations is so phenomenal.

these kids were so funny... one little girl asked if you were my brother, because i looked like you... two seconds later a little boy came up to me and told me i looked like you. i was dressed in a more 'casual' outfit- i chose to be minimal, as i am still in mourning. but i also felt that, out of respect to you and your day i would not wear the more 'flashy' outfits. i did wear all black... a longer black button-up shirt, and black trousers, with the stripe going down the seam, with the black fedora. and still, some kids thought i looked like you... i still wonder, as this is not the first (or second) time to happen, if we are somehow related... tenth cousins or something.

in wanted to take all of these children home with me!!! they were all so sweet. i think their parents were doing a fine enough job, so they didn't need me... but still...

spending time with all of these children, as great as it was, gave me such an empty feeling inside. like you for so many years (before you became a father), i have a great desire to have children in my life.

despite there being a huge wave of positivity and love throughout the day, i could feel a growing sadness on tony/lawrence's part... he introduced himself and told people about his life... he even danced to make the crowd happy (and because the music moved him... he wanted to turn the music up louder than it could go!). i could tell people still found him strange, or a bit of an irritant. it can be lonely for someone like him, because people don't understand him. i felt contradictory about him- i wanted to protect him from all the people who obviously were laughing because they thought he was 'not well', or getting too close to them. at the same time i knew he'd be able to protect himself. i did not want to stand in his way of his mission to make people happy. by the time he was getting ready to leave though, he had such a look of rejection on his face. i knew this look very well. he was so happy throughout the day, but something was eating him up inside.

he gave me a kiss on my hand, then bid farewell... he told me he would see me soon. he mentioned something of our plans to collaborate. he left, and then he was gone. i really do hope i get to see him again. he is one of those people you meet every once in a while, who bless you with their presence. most people find them strange (or crazy), but they are here to teach us all something.

wherever he is now, i hope he is safe... i didn't tell him a thing about myself, and he opened his heart to me. that is one of the kindest things anyone can do.

the evening proceeded, and there was a pause in music (as we were getting ready to play thriller (as we were set to do the dance); benny placed himself on the opposite side of the park and played some bongos. i went over to him and told him we were going to work on 'thriller'. he thanked me for playing music, as his batteries would not waste that way. he then moved to the side of the park which was closer to the event, and played away.

denice (who is a foster mother) ended up doing part of the thrillerdance with myself and kate... kate and i both knew the dance but we had forgotten some of the sequence, since we had not done the dance in a while... but denice was just learning it, and she got it down so quickly!!! we moved on from the thrillerdance, and i began doing my interpretation of 'billie jean' (a song we already heard numerous times throughout the day- i was not expecting to repeat any songs, as i brought so many CDs to play!!!).

there were even MORE children i ended up meeting... a little girl came up to me and asked why i liked you... i asked her back, 'you got all day?' she responded back that she thought i was a boy (wow!). i love the honesty of children... they calls it as they sees it. their honesty is not intended to be malicious at all. they state what they think they see. as i was getting ready to answer her initial question she ran off to other kids, who were older (one of them may have been a sibling, or another family member. the little girl (who's name i cannot remember) ending up taking pictures with us.

daniel, denice's foster child, wrote to you in the book, that you were the best "hip-hop singer" he had ever known. see? you were even hip hop to some folks. you spoke to so many people in so many different ways.

when i was sitting with natalie (she came too, teacher), marcus came up to us and asked how you died... i wanted to say, 'he is NOT DEAD!' and explain the concept of transcendence to him, but that may have been too much. he just asked a simple question, so natalie and i answered together, filling in each other's blanks, from whatever information we knew. the answer i initially said was 'drugs', but really, it was more than that. how do you explain this to a little child? when we mentioned the doctor giving you too much... he finished the sentence. "medicine?" yeah! we both answered. this would not really be lying. i don't believe in lying to children. it's important to answer them in ways they can grasp, though. and i was trying to grasp how to respond to his question. when we responded to his inquiry, a sad, puzzled look resulted on his face. he knew something was not right with what happened to you. right after this he informed us that his mother cried over you. he pointed his mother out, and i told him that i wanted to talk with her, which i did. she was quite sweet, and thanked me for coming over and speaking with her. marcus (her son) drew his interpretation of you. he then went over to play bongos with benny.

finally, there was a child whose presence really touched me- kevin. he was a bit quiet, and he constantly disappeared and returned. he seemed like such a sensitive child, but also got along well with others. he was so fascinated with your doll likeness... he examined it numerous times. he got so excited about it he ran off and showed his mother! in the book to you, he wrote: "R.I.P. Michael Jackson, God bless." i gave him a piece of cake, and he thanked me and said it was really good. as he was getting ready to leave, i told his mother how she had some beautiful children... she thanked me, then said they were really excited about seeing the dolls, and me. they called me 'the michael jackson lady'... it's so funny... all the parents mentioned how their kids just ADORED you!!! they overstood the goal you were trying hard to reach- the truth of love...

the day was winding down into evening, and 7:00 was approaching (the time the event was to be over). everyone finally left. rachel was the last person to leave, around 7 minutes to 7), and i wondered where all the time went? to conclude this day in your honor, i had a moment of silence, saying a prayer and expressing my gratitude for all the people who came into my life on this day, and for you.

as i began to clean (the park was full of chicken bones, forks and cake pieces on the ground) alan stops by. when everything was finally cleaned we leave the park together, conversing about life... we end up seeing two people being arrested by the portland police- one arrest we were not too sure of the reasoning; the other arrest was due to a DWI. the poor guy couldn't even lift his leg without falling... the police arrested him without any sort of resistance. alan took photographs of the arrest, as he documents incidents happening around MLK blvd. as we were talking about what just happened, a woman walks us to us (having just come from the supermarket across the street) and questions us. she asked if the man was wrongfully arrested. she then began to say she didn't trust us, because we were too clean-looking. she spoke about the government and the state of the world.

she then moved onto asking me what the armband i was wearing was about. when she saw that it was for you, she then defended your honor, then proceeded to tell me i was doing a good thing in honoring you, but i needed to make money in NOT focusing on your celebrity status. she then returned to speaking about the state of the world, the senate and why that system should be changed, and the coup in honduras. she moved around so much in what she was saying, and she never really stopped talking. we were there for what seemed like 40 minutes to an hour. i eventually left (having to go get lumbia some food; i thought alan was going to go with me, but he remained there speaking with her...

again! she seemed to be one of those people who just end up in your life... you don't know why, but they just do. and you learn a little something. she said so much, you had to connect dots and trim a little to get to the actual point. and when you finally realize the point, you learn something every time.

i am sure i have missed out so much about this day, and may have even gotten the order/timing of some things wrong; all i know is that this day- in your honor- was really special. i have been blessed with so many gifts on this day, it's virtually impossible to name them all. didn't you once allude to the fact that the best present of all was love?

well, i think you received an abundance of it on this day, where in this life you would have been 51... however, rather than celebrate the years which are NOT to be had in this form anymore, we should honor you by example. we should share what we have learned from you. we shall present you presents by remaining present...

and even through all of these tears i still shed, i thank you so very much, my dear teacher.

your humble student,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 40)

2009-08-28T04:21:00.000-07:00

i sure do need your smile right now...

i read the transcript to one of the speeches i had heard from you so long ago; the one where you spoke at oxford about the need for children to be loved, and for families to become units again. reading it gave me so much joy, because this is the person i love, and learn from... this is the person who has lived through much pain, but is looking for ways to find a place for healing. this is the person who constantly looked to the truth in love.

i love this speech, because i saw you working through so much in your own life. you used your work with children as a vehicle to deal with and make amends with the 'disappointments and confusions' in your life. despite this, there still seemed to be such a fog you could not see through.

and even with all the joy i have gotten from reading the transcript, i still feel this ultimate sadness, not just about you, but for myself... every time i feel like i am getting better emotionally, there is a fog witch returns.

so i need to feel your smile right now, dear teacher.

i have been feeling so overwhelmed working on this radio show for you, i got extremely nervous/anxious about it. i just kept thinking of the worst scenarios to occur, before and during the show... all day i had butterflies. i have not been this nervous about a show since i first started doing the show... i felt a mixture of wanting to throw up, and losing my appetite.

so now, the show is done... it has aired. i have no idea really who listened to it. i suppose i can say that i feel a sense of accomplishment now, after working on it for almost a month, but i don't. i still have anxiety over the show, i still have worry; even though it's already aired. i just need to hear one response, to know if i have done you any justice.

it's like every other week i get responses... and now this time it's not the same.

on my way to the station i stopped for a pedestrian at a crosswalk... for the second time a pedestrian told me to go, instead of having me wait for them. this time was different. this woman (most likely around my age) let me pass, but she walked as i began to ride. she approached me and she exclaimed, 'you are so pretty!!!' then walked off. it sort of threw me off... i mean, people tell me that sort of thing, that i'm pretty. but this time, in the anxious state i was in, it threw me off more than usual (and it usually does throw me off). i just wanted to cry out, 'but you don't even know what i look like, i am wearing sunglasses!' i wanted to say that i don't look as pretty without them.

and i began to think about you, and how all these people thought you were beautiful, but you didn't seem to think that way about yourself (most likely due to being told the opposite growing up). i grew up like that... i know people say that it's easy to just not believe all these things you are told when you were a kid; but when you've had it drilled into you for so long, it's not that easy to unlearn it. i still struggle with people giving me compliments about my looks, because i don't see what they see.

and whenever i see footage of you pinning your eyes to the floor whenever someone gave you a compliment on your looks, i see myself in that.

and after she told me that i was pretty, i rode my bicycle and i cried.

and as i keep saying, for me it doesn't even matter what you look like... i find such beauty within you, that it transfers to the outside. through your sad, beautiful eyes. i'm not too concerned with what you look like. except for the fact that i was really concerned that you were too skinny. you were such a tiny man. i was really worried for you. that smile of yours was so beautiful. the way it radiates a room...

and i am looking for it right now...

and i went home and looked into your eyes and asked you if you heard the show at all. i really need to know if i did a good job; if you were humanized, at least a little bit.

my anxiety has yet to end, as there is still the event on saturday- YOUR day... will your spirit be all over the park, and all over the WORLD, on this day?

maybe i will hear from you then...i will look for the rainbow (without rain) in the sky...

your humble student,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 39)

2009-08-25T23:54:00.000-07:00

i have finally finished the show to you, to be aired on thursday... it took a lot out of me to do. but it was worth it, i think... i put a lot of love into it. i'm sure you've listened to it already in some form (i've listened to it in what seems to be dozens of times at this point, to make sure it sounds okay for the airwaves)... i really hope you like it.

it has been TWO MONTHS exactly, and i am still sitting here crying right now... in the midst of finishing up the show in the studio this morning i started crying, singing along with you. i made some on-air statement for the show, in terms of how i feel about you. but everything i said seems so wrong. it's as if more should be said, or not what i ended up saying. it's as if ANYTHING i said would have come out wrong anyways. or, anything i would have said would not necessarily be overstood. there was so much i wanted to say to you, but i could not think to say it at the time. i wanted to really speak more in depth on what you've done for me, and what you mean to me, but everything i would have said would seem so small and insignificant. yes, i realize it's the sentiment that counts, but still... i just feel like there is something missing. my hope is that people really get a sense of why i feel the way i do through my words, and through listening closely to you.

i am really nervous to put the show on... it is this gift i have given from my heart and i want to share it with others. but i am still nervous because it is going out to so many people. i don't really know what this nervousness and fear is about. i suppose i do, but i can't put my finger on it. and i think part of it is, the closer this day approaches, and the more i see you; the more i realize i truly love and care about you. and this makes me cry even more. and i just want to do the best job i can with this show.

i have done this before, done shows for you. but now, it's in a whole different context. i pre-produced the show because i don't want to cry live over the air. and i think on thursday i'm gonna be in the air room by myself. i really hope you like your gift, dear teacher...

i want to support something positive, amongst all this negativity right now... yesterday, people kept asking me if i heard the news... i still cannot see 'those three words' together without feeling a sort of sickness. but those words are everywhere. to me, you HAVE NOT... 'died'... you are still here, your spirit watching over us, waiting to see if your message will finally be heard. but all of this news (which i have been very adamant about not wanting to hear since your transcendence) keeps being relayed to me...

'have you heard the news?' of course it's about you so they volunteer to inform me of what they have learned. 'it was ruled a homicide'... teacher, i am just going to step outside of all the arguments supporting this statement and be the 'odd man out'. deep in my heart i don't believe it's a homicide. people want to bring me into all of this negativity so i feel i will respond to it, slightly. i was not there, but i don't know if i believe you were purposely murdered. once again (as you are all too familiar with) this is someone's livelihood that's being dealt with. sure, the doctor should certainly take responsibility in this situation (as you were under his care) but as high-profile of a patient you were, would he really ruin his life to purposefully end yours? something does not sound right to me. please let me know if i am wrong about this, dear teacher.

but!

your day is happening in just a few days... on this plane you would have been 51. now, even though your spirit still surrounds us your life has taken on a new form; you have been born into someone else. i will continue to honor you in the form i met you in, and continue to learn from you in your new form, as well as the prior one.

your humble student,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 38)

2009-08-18T00:20:00.001-07:00

i haven't had much time to breathe, preparing for events in your honor... i have been working as much as i can, till sunrise, on the radio show; and i finally got a poster done, to let people know of the event coming on your day, in the park. people seem pretty excited about both things... it's a bit sad to me that i didn't see this much excitement when you were still physically here. but as they say, in 'death' it takes many to truly see a person.

i felt a bit disoriented towards the end of the night, but overall i had a feeling it would be a good day. to be honest, i think it was your smile. it's one of the things to keep me going as of late, besides lumbia. to hear your laugh in my head makes me smile. i have to go back to those videos once in a while, where you're just laughing all over the place. and then i think about all the times i've had a good laugh... i mean, a huge belly laugh, where i can't stop laughing. i don't even know if you knew how healing your smile and your laugh are.

in editing for the radio show i have been listening to your lyrics a bit closer than i have been (and i usally listen pretty closely), and it seems to me that your smile kept you from feeling the absolute pain of the words you sing as well. as you were dancing and fidgeting at the microphone when you sang these songs (i can hear you snapping in between the drum beats) i wondered what was going on in your head, and if you thought happy thoughts to keep you from crying.

natalie told me she contacted you again, and she let me know you are doing fine. she said that your kids are fine too. i still worry about you sometimes, and i have to be reminded that you are doing okay...

she told me that you said it's okay that i finish the book. IS THAT TRUE? should i really finish it? please give me some sort of sign, so i know that is okay with you... i don't want you to think i am taking advantage of you in any way.

i heard your name being called again at work today. i am still trying to figure out if that is you calling me, or another one of the ancestors... i've been so busy working on the show i didn't hear anyone calling for a little bit. even though we haven't talked for a bit (in this fashion), i'm sure you know i think of you constantly.

i keep thinking about what i would say to you if you were still physically here... i really wanted you to read the book. i wanted to know from you if i did it any justice. i wanted to tell you (in person) that you are such a beautiful person, and what lies there in your eyes is more beautiful than any physical alteration. that may sound awkward; it's one of those things where i know what i want to say but how i said it would make or break how you felt about me... this is why i wanted you to read the book.

i suspect that each blog entry i write could be seen as a chapter in the book of life with you. however, this is me just trying to deal... yes, yes, i know the book i was in the process of writing was a way of dealing as well, but as i said before, i know what i want to say. this is a whole 'nother part of life i wasn't emotionally prepared to deal with. and now i am just taking it as it comes.

your humble student,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 37)

2009-08-09T06:22:00.000-07:00

it usually happens when i am alone... i hear someone calling out your name. it's with more frequency now than when i was in the midst of heavily writing the book. now, i hear it about every other day or so. it happens when i am sitting here typing, or at work, or riding my bicycle. sometimes it's a soft whisper; other times it's just a flash, and i can't figure out what voice it is. i know that when i was writing the book and heard your name it definitely was not you calling me. but now, i am wondering if it's you (saying your own name?). or was it the ancestors the whole time bringing you to consciousness, in order to further connect with you. was it them guiding the vivid dreams i had with you, or was it simply the fact that you've weighed so heavily on my mind for two years? the dreams don't happen now; and when they do they are inconsistent in their content. but your name is still there.

there is so much contradiction and confusion as to how i feel about you now. this could be why your name is being called at a more consistent rate now- to get me to focus. ultimately, i am actually at the point where i can say with conviction that i am truly happy for you now. in my heart i know you are at peace. i know you are free from all the troubles of this plane. but there still lies a sadness so deep. there is a sadness which is paralyzing, in a way. i still need to hear from you in order to truly feel better. i need to know that writing the book is okay. i need to know your children are okay. i need to speak with you, just like that last time you spoke with me for that moment, and told me that i will 'know what to do'...

the root of my sadness is even deeper. yesterday, as i was thinking about how happy i was for you for being on a more peaceful plane (after having another stimulating conversation with natalie) i saw a friend of mine who i recently had a difficult time with. we got so close so fast, and we shared an intense friendship over time. but the paths in terms of where each of us desired the relationship to go crossed. i desired more commitment, and she felt she needed more space. this created a distance in our relationship, to the point where the range hit between silence and civility. things are more or less better between us now, but things most likely will never return to how they were. we are on friendly terms. i love her and if anything were to happen to her i'd be heartbroken, because i value the experiences we've shared, and she means a lot to me. all i can think about now though, is that i don't want any sort of intense relationship in my life; because i most likely will end up feeling rejected or abused. i have issues with trust (i acknowledge that), and if i meet someone i feel i can trust enough i will commit myself to my half of the relationship. my frustration is that i don't feel that i get the same commitment in return. so it makes me withdraw and refuse to make any deep connections with others.

one of the things which has been said about me is that i am a person who most likely uses logic; i am a person who relies on the head and not 'the heart', as a reaction to how i feel i have been treated in my life, particularly my childhood. there is some validity to this: whenever i open my heart really deeply i end up feeling rejected, simple as that. i don't want to appear vulnerable to 'the outside world' because i don't want the world to take advantage of me. i felt your pain when you shared this sentiment. you opened yourself up more to that vulnerability, more than i think even you imagined. one of the ways people who lived with some kind of trauma or abuse is to stay guarded. you did this for the most part, but by nature of you being one of the greatest public figures you opened yourself up. in your own way you've made yourself accessible. i don't think people caught on to this while you were physically here; and so now people are asking, 'what was he like? what DID he like?'

this is what creates the conflict i have with you. we have shared a type of relationship so instantly; a relationship which can appear to be one-sided to anyone outside the relationship. the more i learned about you; the more i became connected with you (through the connections of how we grew up), the closer i became to you. some may view this psychic relationship as bearing no weight (as we did not physically know each other). but in learning more about you- paying attention to your words, and the silence of your body language (and your eyes) i began to truly love you. and the love i felt for you coincided with this anger i felt for you (and the anger i felt for myself). it was may of last year where i openly acknowledged that i loved you, yet i was still exploring the depths of that love.

my love for you was so deep that it did consist of the intensity that either a parent, a child or a partner has for someone. you were my companion for two years. i have shared so much with you. now that you have travelled to another plane i feel like i can never share that experience with anyone else. i feel like i can never love again. this most likely will sound ridiculous to many- 'what are you talking about, you didn't even KNOW him'- but it's entirely difficult to explain. the tears i shed were not for you as 'MJ, the guy who made thriller'. it was for the person i shared my life with for two years.

and the root of my conflict in finishing the book is not only in my desire to not be part of the onslaught of books capitalizing off your name now; but it is also the fear in sharing with others what i have shared with you, in context of your transition. there are so many people coming out and saying they now recognize your humanity. but i don't want what i write to be lost in all of the 'sudden revelation' stories... i don't want my experiences with you to be trivialized. one thing i could do is just finish it and keep everything to myself (i WOULD NOT feel right about that; i'd rather just not finish it). the other option is to finish it and share it with people who already were aware of the work i was putting into it. with this, i could be missing out on connecting with others who have shared similar experiences as you or i.

the option i feel which is left is to just finish it and publicly release it. i have great reservations, due to what i just mentioned- i don't want to capitalize off of your name. this is why i consistently ask you for guidance in this situation.

i want to make sure that future generations are able to take from what you have taught me, and can progress to find ways to heal from generations of the cycles of abuse... i want to be sure that kids like the ones i met yesterday are able to continue their search for wonder, even in adulthood.

at my work there were these kids running around- there was one kid who obviously was the dominant one in the family. he is six years old. he went over with his sister, to the 'alter' (for lack of a better term) i have for you, and he was amazed... the kids are usually the first ones to see it. they recognize the child in you, i think... he says (not even that loudly) 'i love michael jackson'. my 'MJ radar' went off, and i said, 'i do too!' he looked back at me, surprised to know i was listening. he then talks about all the dolls, and the pictures. his mother comes over and is also amazed by the alter. she mentions her son's love for you, and how whenever he hears your songs on the radio he wants to know everything about them. he had all of these questions, and i answered them to the best of my ability. he and his sister were standing there for a good 20 minutes to a half hour, talking about you.

when they were getting ready to leave, he and his sister were still standing near the alter, but he ran up to his mother (as if on cue) and asked her if you've ever been to jail. she looked at him curiously, and i answered, 'no.' i think there was a look of relief on his face, and she mentioned that i had a lot of answers, and that if he had a question he should get a hold of me. i hear that from a lot of people... as they were leaving she thanked me for sharing information.

i then realized that you had briefly been to jail, after you were arrested on the first charge in 1993, i believe. the kid's excitement lead me to say no, because i had either blocked out that moment or forgotten. subconsciously i may also have wanted to not shatter his love for you. but somehow i did not remember you went to jail. how could i have forgotten that, i asked myself.

after my response to him and i realized my error, i looked at this situation logically (there's that old logic again): you may have been handcuffed but you did not get charged with what you were arrested for, so technically you were not in jail. but does that make sense? because you did indeed get arrested. and then i began to feel bad because even if i did so on accident i gave that kid the wrong information. i don't want the kid to come back to me and think i was lying to him, because i wasn't. my intention was not to lie. i don't want that kid to hate me. i think a response which came out of this was not to worry too much about it, because that kid should not be subjected to that sort of news. still, i don't want the kid to think of me as a liar. and i don't want to inspire the pattern of lying for this kid either.

i really hope i get to see this kid again, so i can correct my mistake. we can't bring the past back but we can correct mistakes.

so still, my days are filled with the momentary contradictions of sadness and happiness, at times merging with one another.

every day is a new opportunity to learn. and even in your transcendence i learn.

your humble student,
jamilah

michael, may you now be at peace: a reflection (no. 36)

2009-08-06T04:13:00.000-07:00

today was a bit more of a challenging day... not necessarily because of anything specifically related to you; but at the same time it is related to you. with all of the excitement around being with kids, and all the spontaneity yesterday, i went back in the world with 'adults' (aka 'work'). i do really like where i work, but i admit that it's hard to deal with people, because of the culture of apology. PEOPLE APOLOGIZE TOO MUCH FOR THINGS THERE'S NO NEED TO BE SORRY FOR. i know i speak of the cycle of violence in more concrete terms; but this culture is so pervasive in a way which extends beyond the more obvious forms of violence.

where does this culture of apology come from? was there a place in our childhoods where we lost self-direction and autonomy? what place is this, where even in adulthood we need approval/validation/permission to do things THAT WILL NOT HINDER ANYONE ELSE? how did we become so self-wallowing as a culture, to the point where if there is no permission granted, then we feel we are somehow in the way, or causing harm? when did we lose our sense of assertiveness as a culture?

it's assumed by more than enough people that assertiveness is the same thing as aggressiveness, when that is hardly the case. of course those two things can merge; but assertiveness implies a sense of self-control and responsibility. aggressiveness is making attempts to wield power or control over a situation or thing; possibly due to the lack of control one has in life. i am prompted in finding out more about this whole thing now.

when you made all of those business moves did you feel as sense of assertiveness or aggressiveness? which moves had more to do as a reaction of how you grew up, and which ones were a reaction to what you've seen in the industry? people always saw your actions out front as being weak (due to your quiet demeanor and soft voice). one of the things i've admired about you though, is your ability to control a situation even WITH that voice. i never saw you raise your voice when in a conference; and in performing on stage your speaking voice was raised only slightly. you are definitely an aggressive performer; an angry one (as fred astaire used to say), but it was a sort of aggressiveness that was an aspect of your performance. it didn't extend beyond the stage. it kept people on their toes. in terms of asserting your power... yes, that definitely moved beyond the stage. you were no joke with that. being a young guy making all those moves you did, that is pretty amazing.

still... what is the root of all you did? what line was there for you between assertiveness and aggressiveness?

this is something i am struggling with in living here in the northwestern part of the country. and the more i struggle with it the more it makes me love kids, with their honesty and the lack of hangups they have.

see what you've done, teacher?

your humble student,
jamilah