Installment #97

October 20 through October 28, 2015

October marks our 23rd Anniversary, my love.

In your way of measuring time …

Yes, in my way of measuring time …

… because, in truth, we have always been together and we will always be together.

Yes, thank God and you for helping me to understand that truth. Nevertheless, it was October 1, 1992 on Spaceship Earth that I sat down in my comfortable living room and turned on the television set to watch the live telecast of your performance in Bucharest, Romania. That’s 23 years!! Most married couples don’t stick around for 23 years!! Happy Anniversary, my beautiful one! I wanted to do something special to celebrate the occasion. So, the other day, I decided that I would paint a beautiful painting of you.

This painting marks a couple of important milestones for me. For one thing, it’s BIG … much bigger than the portraits I have attempted before. I mean it’s not WALL SIZE big, but it’s bigger than I’ve ever attempted before. To be honest, I have been intimidated by large canvases so my previous portraits have been 11 inches by 14 inches or 14 inches by 17 inches at the largest, relatively small. This canvas is 20 inches by 24 inches and takes up very nearly my entire drawing board that sits on my easel. So, the image I was working with, the reference photograph, had to be enlarged proportionately to fill the space with all the complications that entails.

The second milestone I encountered … purely by accident, I might add (because I am not taking any formalized art lessons … I consider you my art instructor) …

[Michael laughs.]

… was the concept of underpainting. I had heard the term used once or twice, but I had no idea what it was. As I began to paint this portrait, I discovered that the paint was not turning out as smoothly as I wanted it to and I almost gave up on the entire thing. You see, BIG magnifies the flaws. It seemed that the paint was soaking into the canvas too much even though I had applied two layers of gesso and sanded the canvas to smooth them out in between. In addition, I had applied a color wash. Nevertheless, the paint wasn’t applying evenly and the colors I had mixed didn’t look right. The transitions betweeen shading and cheekbones, for example, were too stark. Finally, at 10:00 PM, I had to let the painting sit overnight to see it in the daylight and decide what to do. The next morning when I awoke, I came into the art studio and remixed a lighter shade to apply over the previous night’s work. While mixing, I added a drop or two of retarder medium to the mixed shade and began to apply that to the face. It was like I was using a magic brush. The new shade was applying much more smoothly and the darker tone underneath was showing through the new paint I was applying!

I was shocked and intrigued by this development, but I only had an hour or two before family obligations called me away for basically the entire weekend. Later that night, when everyone was asleep, I returned to the art studio and viewed the new paint, which had dried in the interim. It had dried much more evenly. The painting was beginning to take on the smoothness and shade that I was aiming for when I began the painting. I remembered hearing the term “underpainting” and googled it.  Well, duh! Underpainting became my word for the day.

When I had the freedom to return to the painting, I was armed with this knowledge. The resulting portrait is called “Metamorphosis” not only for the subject matter, but also to represent a turning point in my development.



Wowie! I am impressed! You have turned a corner in your art! You go, girl!

I have? What kinda corner?

Definitely! Yes! In addition to learning through practicing and developing new skills and techniques, you have gone from reproducing a photograph that you have seen and love to pulling scenes out of your imagination and manifesting those scenes in visible, physical form. May I remind you that you said you didn’t have any imagination not very long ago. Your words … and I quote … “Yes, my imaginative powers are extremely limited.” … end quote. Do you remember saying that?

Yes, of course, I remember, Michael. It was in Installment #26 when we were working on visualization exercises in preparation for the trial of Conrad Murray. We talked about it a lot.

Yes, we did, but I think we need to talk about it a little bit more. Do you still agree with that statement?

Yes, to a certain extent, but not as much as I did when I orginally made the statement. I am not a very imaginative person, but I am discovering that with a little exercise that muscle can be developed a bit more.

Yes! Exactly! It’s like anything else. You need to exercise the power of imagination to make it work for you. But you still retain a residual thought that you are not imaginative, so, let’s get that idea out of your head right now. How in the world are you defining imaginative? Because what I am seeing as you progress in your art and in your visualizations … as well as in the reactivation of your dreaming ability … I am seeing a LOT of imaginative powers coming through.

Well, Merriam-Webster defines imaginative as: (1a) having or showing an ability to think of new and interesting ideas: having or showing imagination; (1b) devoid of truth, false; (2) given to imagining: having a lively imagination; (3) of or relating to images; especially showing a command of imagery.

Exactly. Most of those definitions … actually, all of them except 1b … are making a guest appearance in your recent paintings … and in your life, in general. 

And in regards to 1b, I would argue that devoid of truth is NOT a definition of imaginative. Imaginative is the act of manifesting a physical symbol or representation of one person’s interpretation of truth … which may or may not agree with society’s accepted interpretation of truth … but that does not make it any less true for the person interpreting it. As a matter of fact, history has shown that an artist’s interpretation of truth is far more truthful than the accepted norms that society holds sacred. It is a much more nonconformist perspective which eventually becomes accepted by society’s standards, usually after the artist has passed on. Then, they are called “geniuses” when during their physical lives they were called “odd” and “freakish.”

Your recent paintings adhere to all of the others: they contain new and interesting ideas and interpretations (1a); they evoke feelings in the minds and thoughts of viewers and take them on new and exciting adventures; and they show a command of imagery. And, I imagine you still don’t think of yourself as an artist, right?

Right, I have a lot of trouble with that concept.

Oh …. read my lips … GET OVER IT!!!!

These recent paintings show a maturation process in embryo … a seed being nurtured into a sapling. You are drawing concepts and emotions from your imagination, interpreting thoughts and ideas and manifesting those thoughts and ideas in physical form. If that’s not imaginative then I don’t understand the term.

Can you tell me what has caused this change?

Well, I can try. Basically, my love, you have!

In the first painting called “Daybreak Over Foreverland,” I was inspired by your short film for “You Are Not Alone” and your love of Maxfield Parrish’s beautiful painting “Daybreak.” I love Parrish’s art, especially what I call his “Mount Olympus” paintings which show an idyllic paradise, of which “Daybreak” is one. I wanted to take that idea and see if I could interpret it myself … not so much his exact technique and colors because that is way beyond my skill level, but more the emotion that his painting and your short film that is based upon that painting evokes in me. It’s a view of paradise. It’s the Garden of Eden. It was very much an experiment to see if I could paint a fairly realistic scene incorporating that emotion. It was so much fun to do with the mythical creatures and peaceful valley and you resting in the middle of it all.

Daybreak Over Foreverland

Daybreak Over Foreverland

That painting is your imaginative, inner child peaking out around the corner of the door you have left ajar with your meditations and visualizations and the re-awakening of your dreams. She is not quite ready to emerge from the dungeon you locked her in fifty plus years ago. She is testing the waters, dipping her toes in to discover if it is safe for her to come out. There is a playfulness in the unicorn and fairies and their trails of fairy dust. She is a shy, bashful child, gaining in courage but not quite ready to dive into the deep end yet. She’s not sure she’s acceptable … approved … yet. She is waiting for someone to yell, “Go to your room and stay there!”

When that doesn’t happen, she thinks it might be safe to just enter the pool of becoming by going to the shallow end and dangling her legs in the water, sitting on the edge until someone commands her to hide herself again.

The second painting, “The Giving Tree,” came to me almost fully formed during a meditation in the car when my husband and I were taking our granddaughter to the zoo about two hours away from where we live. She was sleeping in the back seat and my husband was driving. We are usually pretty silent when he is driving. So, I thought it was a good time to close my eyes and meditate for a while. The idea felt like a gift as you so often described receiving your music. It just dropped in my lap and I became curious about how it would look to make you “The Giving Tree,” spanning the gap between the physical and spiritual, Earth and eternity represented by the moon and stars with all of us, your children, as the branches extending out into infinity and carrying the sap of your love into the cosmos.

The Giving Tree

The Giving Tree

Ah, the wounded child has gone from just dangling her legs in the water to jumping into the pool of becoming. No one was watching. She heard no one commanding her to return to her room of limitedness. However, she is still cautious. She’s just wading in the calf-deep, shallow end of the pool. She’s still not totally comfortable being so exposed and vulnerable, but she’s not hiding, now.

In the third painting, “Let Us Dream of Tomorrow,” I wanted to represent our meeting place in Foreverland. This painting shows how I imagine our meditation space to be with its stream and trees and rocks, the sun’s rays pouring through the thick leaves and you sitting under my version of the Bodhi tree.

Let Us Dream of Tomorrow

Let Us Dream of Tomorrow

She has sat down in the water, now, and put her head back against the side of the pool. She has closed her eyes and is beginning to think that she can swim in this pool without reprimand. There is no one telling her that she is wasting her time being perfectly content. Those voices have been silenced, for the most part. Occasionally, there is an echo of them … a memory … but she doesn’t focus her attention on them. They are not as real as the feeling of contentment.

This is marvelous! I am loving this! In the fourth painting, “Primordial,” there was a beautiful full moon and it was being called the “Blood Moon” when I painted this picture. I wanted to put you in the full moon with the landscape showing the first day of creation … as well as the last day after the full awakening of consciousness. The tide of awareness is lapping the beach at about half tide; it hasn’t completely submerged the sand all the way to the rocks, yet. It’s kinda my interpretation of infinity.



That wounded child is wounded no longer. She is swimming in the pool of becoming with long strokes and diving under the water, holding her breath to see how far she can swim without having to break the surface for a breath.

And, now, there is “Metamorphosis.”

[Michael laughs uproariously.] Yes, and now there is metamorphosis. The wounded, abandoned, imaginative inner child has just dived off the diving board into the deep end of the pool of becoming. She’s beginning to see past the fear of the water … or her own limits, for that matter. She has a ways to go, but she has made great strides!

Beloved, I so love your power of analogy. Thank you. Can we shift gears here a little bit?

Of course! Whatchugot? [Michael is doing an impression of Rodney Allen Rippey, I think.]

Well, we have talked often about my “treasure trove” of tapes and purchased and downloaded Michael material and, indeed, I must acknowledge that I have a lot of fairly awesome stuff on tapes and DVDs.

Yes, we have recognized that you have been “obsessed” for years.

There’s that “O” word; I wondered when that would crop up. I take it as a compliment.  Thank you.

[Michael laughs.] Good! You should. 

I really cannot remember where I got all this stuff, but I recently had reason to pull out one of those old VHS tapes and just kinda cruise through it. The occasion was a visit from a dear friend who shares my obsession (which, in and of itself, is an event that is pretty hard to come by here on the dark side of the moon.) Since there are very few “Michaeling” types of things going on around here, our homegrown, dark side of the moon version of “Michaeling” consisted of pulling out some of my archived Michael material and watching until late at night.

One evening, after running around all day with my husband, my friend and I sequestered ourselves in my room and pulled out one of my old VHS tapes entitled, “BAD ERA.” You have to understand, these tapes are just a hodge podge of stuff that I either transferred from tapes people had sent to me during the 1990s or stuff that was broadcast on television on various entertainment shows like Entertainment Tonight, interviews that occurred, performances from the tours just all jumbled up together with no real organization at all. Some of the material is very poor quality, particularly stuff that I copied from other tapes. At the time, this was known as second or third “generation” stuff and with VHS the quality of the recorded material decreased incrementally according to the number of “generations” or times it was copied. I’m not sure, but I don’t think that happens with digital format.

Anyway, during the BAD Era, there was a program that was televised during which my friend and I found an absolute gem. I think it was only broadcast in the Los Angeles area because I have labeled it “LA Tour Coverage” and was probably televised just before the second leg of the BAD Tour hit LA. (1988 or 1989?) It contains short clips of performances from the tour interspersed with interviews with various people talking about you and the show.

At the outset of the BAD tour, it seemed like almost every show that had any kind of coverage at all showed clips of your performance of “Another Part of Me,” and this particular show is no exception, but tucked in amongst the clips of your performance were brief snippets of interviews with Elizabeth Taylor and Sofia Loren and Hermes Pan (Fred Astaire’s choreographer). I believe this show was broadcast at about the same time as “The Legend Continues,” a Showtime/MTV collaborative effort narrated by James Earl Jones, which I also have a copy of in my collection. Along with the above-mentioned celebrities, there was a brief interview with the members of the Beach Boys. It’s pretty poor quality, but apparently in response to a question that probably went something like, “How do you explain Michael Jackson’s almost universal appeal,” Michael Love replies:

“Whether you like him or not is beside the point. You have to recognize, the guy has megatons … megatons … megatons of talent. If you really want to get serious about an answer, it’s CONSCIOUSNESS. It’s a level of consciousness in direct proportion to his fame.”

I had to stop the tape (I’m sure my friend thought I was crazy) at that very point and write the quote down. I thought it was such a well-thought-out and, in retrospect, (knowing what we all know and having lived through what we’ve all lived through in the twenty years from the time of the interview to the day the Earth stood still) an honest, appropriate and prescient response not only for the time it was broadcast, but, particularly, in the seventy-six months since June 25, 2009. Mr. Love’s response has such an uncanny, almost premonitory ring of truth.

Michael sings:

We’re sending out
A major love
And this is
Our message to you
The planets are lining up
They’re bringing brighter days
They’re all in line
Waiting for you
You’re just another part of me.

Exactly! The song which preludes this brief quote, itself, is about raising the consciousness of the planet. In the lyrics, you are announcing … heralding, if you will … a major and long-overdue shift in the consciousness of the planet. So, within a very few moments, your lyrics refer to a major theme of consciousness (which would become more and more prevalent as time went on and would come to play a major role in all of your subsequent releases) … and one of the Beach Boys (for heaven’s sake!) is referring to you in terms of possessing a “level of consciousness,” which is a fairly uncommon trait to cite in reference to an entertainer of any ilk. I honestly never made this connection before.

I have watched this particular tape many, many times (mostly back in the 1990s, but I have also transferred some of the material from this VHS tape onto DVD for preservation purposes.) The quote had never had quite the impact on me before I watched it again with my friend on Saturday evening.

For myself, I have to admit that when I taped that short segment, I had no idea what I was taping or that I would be writing about it and marveling at its applicability more than twenty years later. Its significance was a total 747 … flew right over my head.

[Michael laughs.] Just one more example of the adage, “When the pupil is ready, the teacher will appear.” This time it was Michael Love.

Yes, I can see that I was not ready to fully “grok” what the man was saying. I mean I had not awakened to this awareness at the time I copied this particular segment onto the tape we watched, at least not to the level at which I currently reside. Of course, I understood what the term consciousness referred to (or, at least, I thought I did) intellectually, but I had not experienced this new way of understanding the term that many of us have come to know more intimately in the interval, at that time.

What’s more, I don’t really know if Michael Love, himself, knew what he was saying more than twenty years ago … whether he was using the term in its more generic usage or if he was referring to consciousness, with the expanded meaning as many of your children understand it now. The quote itself contains the clues, “If you really want to get serious about an answer,” but it also contains, “in direct proportion to his fame.” So, these are really kind of conflicting clues. The first infers a seriousness and devotion to finding an adequate term to encompass the phenomenon and the second infers a kind of generic interpretation of his words. Either way, it is an unusual word for him to have used back then in reference to popular music … or a popular musician.

For me, and I think for many of my readers, the word “consciousness” has taken on whole new meanings since we began these Conversations. As a matter of fact, all of these dialogs from Installment #1 to present have been about consciousness. What do we focus our attention on? Do we react consciously or unconsciously (by default) when our buttons are pushed? How do we participate consciously in our world? You have even said that we are birthing a new “paradigm” … a new “collective consciousness.”

Yes, exactly. We are working on raising the level of your awareness … helping you to see that many of the thoughts you think, words you say and actions you engage in are being done from a level of unconsciousness … a kind of automatic pilot … which has created many of the world’s current critical crises; that you are not “paying attention” and, therefore, are not fully aware of how you are affecting your own emotional climate as well as the world around you. 

We are taking the unconscious behavior … those things you do kind of by default according to your society’s and culture’s preconceived biases, which you are taught as pure, innocent children as what has become accepted as a natural part of growing up … and shining the light of consciousness on them so that you can decide with full awareness if you want to continue with those same thoughts, words and actions. In addition, we are offering alternative ways of perceiving challenges, dealing with conflicting emotions and situations so that you can begin to think, say and act in more creative, less judgmental, more life-enhancing ways both for yourself and for your world. 

Darwinian Science has determined that the history of evolution on this planet is all about the physical changes in the human organism from protozoa to homo sapiens … or the advance of our technological and scientific expertise … or the quality of life economic model, making our modern conveniences like running water, microwave ovens and fast cars the goal and best measure of our evolutionary advance. It is very invested in the physical world that can be seen, categorized, labeled and measured. None of these are the goals of the evolutionary process; they are the results … side effects, if you want to call them that. The Darwinian model is obsolete now that the quantum realm has been discovered. It’s just not true.

Unfortunately, all of our institutions are based on and promote the obsolete Darwinian model … our outcome-based educational system, which tries to make all children learn at the same rate by the same methods and meet the same standards … our allopathic medical and health care systems which treat the symptoms of disease but not the cause … our top-down governmental systems which make laws based on economic gain for the supporters of political candidates and promote the acquisition of personal power over the service-based model introduced by our founding fathers … and our religious institutions which still preach an angry and vengeance-seeking God from almost every pulpit on Sunday morning. 

In the Darwinian viewpoint, it’s survival of the fittest. Who cares if it’s right as long as I profit? “Who cares if its the truth as long as we can pay someone enough to say it’s the truth.” [PBS Frontline Special “Tabloid Truth: The Michael Jackson Scandal 1994]  After all, we are not in the news business; we are in the entertainment business. Anything goes. Paying people to lie? Sure, why not if that’s what it takes to get ahead and trump the other guys with a scoop.

The evolution of mankind is not measured by the size of our cranium, the size of our wallet or the size of our hard drive. It’s the size of our hearts that counts. The history of evolution on Planet Earth is the evolution of our consciousness and we are at a critical juncture in that evolution as a species. We stand at a crossroad. 

“We have four years to get it right. It’s an important message I have to give.”

That was six years ago, now … six years in your way of perceiving and experiencing time.

We can continue on the same path we have been traveling for centuries and destroy the planet and ourselves in the process. In this scenario, no one wins, no one profits and nothing survives. If that is our conscious, fully aware choice, at least let’s be conscious of what we are doing. We do have that option and the freedom to exercise it.

Or we can become aware that we are all ONE with each other and with the planet which nurtures and sustains us and conscious co-creators of another reality, one in which each person is allowed the freedom to be the best he or she can be and contribute his or her gifts to improve the lives of all. We are just as free to choose this option and avoid the “no one wins” scenario. However, we have to become conscious of the things we have done in the past that didn’t work … for ourselves and for our world … so that we can avoid falling into the same kinds of traps in which we have been imprisoned for a very long time.

Michael! Doggone it! How the heck do you do that? I just got chills running up and down my spine! Thank you, Baby … I so love you!

[Michael giggles.] I so love you more. What are you on about now?

Well, after allowing this Conversation to “simmer” overnight, I picked up the book we are reading for our daily Library Hour and read the following two paragraphs out loud … to you:

Occasionally, in the course of history a new worldview emerges that transforms society. It happened when Jesus’ disciples were inspired by his life to believe in radical transformation through love. It occurred in the Renaissance when the idea of progress through knowledge was born. It happened in the United States when the ideas of freedom and democracy became institutions through the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, and again among the transcendentalists, such as Ralph Waldo Emerson and Walt Whitman, who believed that each individual is an expression of the divine, a free and sovereign person. Now, once again, a new worldview is arising. This idea is the culmination of all human history. It holds the promise of fulfilling the great aspirations of the past and heralds the advent of the next phase of our evolution. It is the idea of conscious evolution.

Conscious evolution is occurring in our generation because we are now gaining an understanding of the processes of nature: the gene, the atom, the brain, the origin of the universe, and the whole story of creation from the big bang to us. We are now changing our understanding of how nature evolves; we are moving from unconscious evolution through natural selection to conscious evolution by choice. With this increased knowledge and the power that it gives us, we can destroy the world or we can participate in a future of immeasurable dimensions. Into our hands has been given the power of codestruction or cocreation.

The book is called “Conscious Evolution: Awakening the Power of our Social Potential” by Barbara Marx Hubbard.

Yes, exactly. I love it when a plan comes together! What surprises you?

Well, I’ve had this book for years and haven’t picked it up in ages except to dust the shelf it was resting on. However, here we are in the middle of a dialog about consciousness and my hand pulls it off the shelf and these words are the first words I read. Now, I suppose it could just be the fact that I have a lot of books on these kinds of subjects, but I interpret these things as validation … kind of confirmation that I am on the right track because there are no coincidences in the world of the Beloved.

Or in any world for that matter, but that’s another discussion.

I know you all look around you at the world that you see on television broadcasts and think, “How can we be creating a new collective consciousness? Look at this mess!” Right?

Absolutely! It is a little hard to see in news broadcasts during which they focus on war and violence and titillating stories about celebrities. Are we having any impact?

Do you remember our discussion about caterpillars?

Totally! It’s one of my favorites! In Installment #37 – July 30 through August 6, 2011, you said:

You are all earthbound caterpillars. You are all concentrating all your thought, energy and imagination on being earthbound caterpillars … “plodding determinedly” as you described in an earlier conversation … with your eyes glued to the ground less than an inch in front of you … being concerned with the things a caterpillar is concerned with … not realizing that those things offer a very limited, restricted outlook on the life you are living. You don’t look up as the caterpillar doesn’t look up. You are unaware that there is another kind of life … one of freedom … one of bliss … one of floating on air currents … one of integration and creativity. You don’t even ask yourself, “Is this all there is?” because you aren’t aware that there is a self to ask.

However, inside the caterpillar is an unrealized potential … a beautiful, carefree butterfly with gossamer, stained glass wings awaiting birth. You are not even aware that such a creature could possibly exist; such things are beyond your limited thinking. Caterpillars can’t see the sky; their eyes are not placed in their heads in the right position for sky viewing nor is their sense of sight acute enough to see that far above them.

Yet, in just a few short weeks you will be in a state of suspended animation and a short while after that some kind of magician somewhere will wave his magic wand … and you will be a butterfly! Let me be your magician. Let me show you what lies in store for you. If you could only see past the caterpillar’s blindness to the freedom of the butterfly, you would be so uplifted and your heart would soar, even while your little caterpillar bodies are still earthbound. That’s what we’re doing here … you and I … all of you and I.

Like the caterpillar, you limit yourself, instead of reaching higher, because it is what you are familiar with and what your world has taught you to be satisfied with. The smallest, most insignificant change in perspective (like alive and dead) frightens you. Total metamorphosis is unthinkable. You have very little faith in the butterfly’s presence, but it is there lying dormant within you, just awaiting the proper genetic and environmental triggers to manifest iself. Let me be those triggers.

The purpose of this exercise is to awaken the butterfly … without having to depend on the chrysalis … to alert your spiritual senses to my presence. This journey we are all on is one step at a time and each step in the process is incremental, leading you on to the next step. First, you have to be aware that there is more to life than the one-sided, myopic, earthbound view in which you are currently imprisoned before you can have the faith necessary to bring that perspective into your reality. We need to get your earthbound caterpillar eyes to see another way of looking at life. Since your earthbound caterpillar vision is not acute enough to see so far above your heads, we need to awaken your spiritual sight … your imagination … to envision me reaching for you … to awaken in you the desire to reach for me.

The next step is for us to quicken your faith in that other view of life, in your ability to climb high enough to touch me and in my ability to reach far enough to touch you. Some of you … I won’t mention any names, here <ahem> … but you know who you are … are stuck here! You just insist on losing your balance and falling off that chair! You are faith-filled, beautiful, almost-butterflies when you are writing or dancing or listening, but then you let the world intrude itself into your journey … and you allow doubt to bring you crashing back to Earth. But, remember, you can only fall as far as my arms.

Yes, that’s it. I want you to stop and consider something for a moment. How do you think the caterpillar reacts when it is all wrapped up inside its nice, comfy cocoon hanging by a silken thread from a tree branch and the metamorphosis begins that will transform it into a butterfly? Is this a joyous, carefree time in the caterpillar’s life cycle?

Gee, Baby … I don’t know. I guess I’ve never thought about this before. Is it?

Uh … no! [Michael chuckles.] Not at all. Once the caterpillar is safely tucked away in its nice, comfy cocoon, imaginal cells begin to form. These imaginal cells are all about “rockin the boat.” They are the seeds of transformation.

The caterpillar’s body interprets these imaginal cells as a disease. It doesn’t know that they will form wings and a new body … and transform its life into one of freedom … and bliss … and floating on air currents … and integration, wholeness and creativity. All its body knows is that there is an “unknown” that has invaded its cocoon … a foreign body has attacked it … like a virus … and it is wreaking havoc in there. The caterpillar is very invested in remaining a caterpillar … in maintaining the status quo … because that is all it knows. To the caterpillar, the attack heralds death. And that is true. It is death to the caterpillar, but birth to the butterfly. It’s not really death; it’s transformation; it’s metamorphosis. 

The caterpillar body tries to fight off its attacker, but no matter how hard the caterpillar fights the foreign imaginal cells, they continue to proliferate, and become emergent imaginal cells, transforming the caterpillar against its antibodies … against its better judgment … against its will! Until, at the end of the struggle, the butterfly emerges to dry its newly-acquired wings in the fresh air, a totally transformed creature … not dead, but a new-fully formed, bewinged creature, whose view of the world … and experience of it … is totally new and entirely different.

This is a very good metaphor for what my beautiful, almost-butterflies are experiencing now in the world they see around them. 

You are all the imaginal cells of this new, transformed consciousness. Many of you were around in the 1960s, a time of birthing new social movements and birthing is always a painful and laborious process. It was a time of experimenting with leaving behind some of the structures and attitudes that had held sway for so long. Established authority doesn’t like that. If you recall, the “establishment” fought the wave of new thought, often extremely violently. The caterpillar body is extremely invested in remaining a caterpillar just as the “establishment” is extremely invested in remaining in power and subverting this tide of metamorphosis by any and all means at its disposal.

But the imaginal cells weren’t really ready when they first awakened in the 1960s; they became aware that change was needed, but they didn’t have the experience, knowledge or skills to make the sweeping changes that were required to effect the transformation. So, a couple of decades later and those imaginal cells have acquired the experience, knowledge and skills to effect radical change, starting in their own little, comfy cocoons.

The thing that neither the caterpillar nor the establishment acknowledge or even recognize is that the whole purpose of the caterpillar is metamorphosis. Transformation has been built into its genome. Resistance is futile. In a similar way, the whole purpose of humanity is integration and full and conscious evolution. It’s built into humanity’s genome. Resistance is futile. So, just “give in to me. Love is a feeling. Give in to me. Give in to me.”

Installment #96

August 1, 2015 to August 26, 2015

Hello? Anybody Home? “Car 54, where are you?”

Michael! Ah … there you are! LOL! Nice lead in! Not too many people will remember that one! Where have you been? I’ve been worried.

I know! And what have we said about worrying? I can feel your fear and I respond by sending you thoughts of reassurance in the music, but you seem to have been a little distracted lately.

Thank you, my beautiful one, for always being here. I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am.

Yes, this has been a strange summer, in a way. First of all, I didn’t make plans to go on pilgrimage this year to celebrate your Continuation Day in Los Angeles and Neverland and, as the day approached and passed, I kinda regretted that decision. I missed being there dreadfully. However, as things turned out, it seems that it was a propitious decision because circumstances conspired as the summer progressed into a need for me to have minor surgery very closely following the dates involved. So, although I was very disappointed to have to miss visiting Forest Lawn and Neverland and being with friends who share my love for you, it worked out to be a very good thing that I wasn’t away from home when the condition cropped up that required attention.

Yes, just another example of how the Plan provides for everyone’s highest and greatest good. You needed to take care of the situation before it turned into a much larger problem. The surgery went well, didn’t it?

Oh my gosh, Beloved, so much better than I could have ever anticipated. I made up my mind to let all the worry and anxiety that would normally accompany the necessity of surgery go and just turned the entire situation over to you. There was literally no pain at all. Not only did I not experience any pain in the weeks leading up to the surgery, but there was no pain following the surgery. I couldn’t believe it. The general anesthesia was a dream and there were no side effects whatsoever. I was a little anxious because I was sedated with a cocktail of drugs which included propofol and, of course, that brought up thoughts of you. I shouldn’t have worried. It went surprisingly well and my recovery has been ideal in every way. I have felt you near me through the entire experience and I am so grateful.

However, the surgery and recovery period have necessitated me taking it very easy for the last approximately six weeks and when I am distracted like that I become a little worried that our ongoing Conversations will suffer.

No, they won’t! I’ll just wrap you in my love until you have taken care of the things that require your attention and we’ll jump right back in as soon as you are ready. I need you to remember that I am never hiding … I am always here and you never have to worry that I am far away. You have … due to circumstances beyond your control … just been a little distracted. That happens. Life happens. We’ll pick up where we left off because we are forever and we are ONE.

However, let me guess … since then you’ve been getting yourself all anxious and tied in knots again. You’re afraid that I’m tiring of always being on call. You’re thinking that I have much more important things to do than to be available to you for these Conversations … much more important people to visit … much more talented artists and writers to inspire. You’re fearful that 100 such dialogs is surely the limit so you’re hesitating to start as the numbers approach that limit, hoping to stretch them out to avoid the day when they stop. Am I right?

Yes, you know me too well. I cannot deny that those thoughts have crossed my mind a time or two and I can’t hide anything from you, Beloved; nor would I want to. However, in my defense, I have also been drawing you a lot and reading to you and talking with you in my journal and in my mind constantly. I’ve just been having on-going, informal discussions with you, augmented by little musical miracles, but not formalizing them in any coherent way.

Well, we’ve got a lot of things to talk about, then, don’t we? So, let’s get started. 

Okay, my first order of business is a request. Do you take requests, Beloved?

Sure. What do you have in mind?

 I would like to officially request that you come back here and run for President!


[Michael laughs out loud.] What?!?!

I think we need a viable candidate for President and you are my choice as the most viable candidate I can think of. You’ve got my vote in the bag and I suspect that I am not alone. The political arena is beginning its run up to the Presidential elections and the field of candidates as far as I can see is a joke. I mean … Donald Trump?!? … really? Is that the best the country can come up with? I’m sorry. I know he’s a friend of yours, Baby, but … the man seems determined to put his foot in his mouth everytime he opens it.

You are so funny! Serious up, here!

The first thing we have to address is this anxiety and fear … AGAIN. Because you obviously have not been hearing my rebuttal to all your arguments … or, at least, you haven’t been understanding them and internalizing them … and, therefore, experiencing them in your daily life. 

Do you remember when we talked about Foreverland and how the purpose of the Healing Hall was to help souls remember the gift they were intended to share with the world … the thing that makes each soul whole and complete?

Yes, I remember that discussion very well. You explained that after its time in the Healing Hall each soul would know what its joy was … what fulfilled it and made it complete.

Yes, and you said that you thought it would have been very difficult for me to discover what that one gift was because I was blessed with so many. How did I respond?

You said [reference Installment #45 – October 9, 2011 through October 16, 2011]:

No, it was really very easy. When my time in the Healing Hall was completed, I remembered that my wholeness is only to be found in all of yours. My passion and fulfillment is to serve my Earth mission to heal the world through all of you. This is my joy … my bliss … my passion … just as it was during my physical manifestation.

All the things you mentioned were a means to an end. I love them all, don’t get me wrong. Creating music gave me such joy and recording it and putting it out there for all of you in the most perfect way I could was so fulfilling. I could pour so much love into the creative process … from catching the gift as it fell into my lap … to shaping it and molding it … to finding just the right sounds and instruments to enhance the recording … to layering the vocals and ad libs until they were just right … to cutting and editing and mixing. At each step of the process, I was motivated by LOVE … for the music … love and gratitude for the gift that God had given me in the music … love for the process … love for the audiences who would ultimately receive it and accept or reject it according to its relevance in each individual’s life at the moment of hearing.

I always knew that music is the universal language. I always knew that it has a power that few other things have; it can grab your attention and take you into a whole different mindset. It can calm the anxious; it can raise enthusiasm in the apathetic; it can ease the fearful; it can unify thousands upon thousands of strangers into a community, holding hands and swaying to the rhythm together with smiles on their faces. I had faith in that power that music has to speak to each person on the planet in his or her own language. Music is the Tower of Babel before the confusion of speech is depicted in the Bible.

It was never about the numbers for me; it was about translating Divine Union into rhythm and harmony, orchestration and vocal expression. It was about touching your hearts with love … my own love … and God’s love because She was the one who gave me the music … and conveying that emotion in as true and perfect a manner as was humanly possible … in a way that was worthy of God’s investment in me. It was about bringing you the same kind of joy … to help ease your troubled hearts and souls … as I experienced in making it. It was about letting you check your problems at the door and escape with me into a less serious, more imaginative world. Music was my vehicle to take you away; it carried my love. It carried my soul.

The same is true with every one of the things you listed above.

Dance and chorography were the physical expressions of my love … and God’s love … spoken in the language of bodily movement. It was as much a gift as the music and my gratitude for it was just as boundless. There is a centuries-old movement of Spiritual Mastery whose devotee’s ecstatic mystical union with God is expressed in twirling and body postures and drum beats, otherwise known as dance. One of my favorite poets, the Persian poet, Rumi, was one of Sufism’s founders. So, there is a long tradition of mysticism and dance being expressions of the same intent … one in purpose. Almost all cultures from Africa to American Indian to Polynesian to Oriental celebrate ritual with dance! I didn’t invent it. But I was blessed to use this language to convey emotion as fluently as I used music and harmony; it was my vehicle. It, too, carried my love. It carried my soul. I was never as articulate or comfortable with spoken language as I was with music and dance.

… The films and performances were my love for the music and dance and audience … and my gratitude for the gift of vision … made manifest in both a live setting and in the more relaxed environment of your own home. In the performance venue, my imagination was restricted by physical limitations … those nasty laws like physics and dynamics and gravity and my own human frailty … but in film it could soar and I could take you all with me … virtually … on imaginary trips to ancient Egypt and fantastic amusement parks and intergalactic spaceships and 1940s speakeasies! Film was a perfect medium for me to help you all escape the hatred and bigotry and war and diseases and drought and famine … all the terrible things we read about in the newspapers and watch on television. I was so looking forward to experimenting with the film medium and taking us all on great adventures.

… I wanted to create the biggest selling album in the history of recorded music because being the biggest selling artist would give me a powerful position from which to speak to everyone on the planet … to cross barriers that divide us and bring us all together in joy and knowledge of our Oneness. I wanted all of your attention, regardless of where in this world you were located or your age or your ethnic background or your race, so that I could reach the most hearts with my love and gain an unassailable position from which to begin to ask all of you to heal the world, beginning with yourselves and extending to include all six billion citizens of our world … one inch and one heart at a time.

This was always my purpose. It underscored every breath I took while I was with you in a physical manifestation. It continues to underpin every breath I take now. The only difference is that now, there are no physical barriers to keep us apart … no time or space or distance or economic divisions to my touch upon your hearts … no bodyguards needed to protect you or me. Now, I can be with you in ways that I never could before. And it is such a blessing.


Yes, let me just add that this is a perfect description of my heaven. So, in a very real sense you (each and every one of you) are my heaven … both individually and collectively. You are my Kingdom of Love just as you were during the manifestation of my physical life. Each one of you contributes to my experience of heaven and the love we share draws us into a Vortex of Love where we sing and dance together through any and all of the mediums you use to express this awareness …  these Conversations … or art … or visualization intiatives … or music … or dance … or charitable outreach … or any combination of the above … or whatever way you are moved to express it. There is nothing more important to me … never has been and never will be. We are ONE … and I love you all MORE!

Would you deny me the pleasure of these dialogs … the joy they bring me in repeating my message to reinforce and strengthen our oneness … the fulfillment and feeling of connection they bring you … the inspiration they bring to your readers … because of your feelings of unworthiness?

Deny you pleasure or joy or fulfillment? Never, Beloved. I would deny you nothing. You know that!

Good! Yes, I do know that.  I’m sorry to be so blunt, but we need to put these fears and anxieties to rest … finally … or we’ll still be going through them at #200 and beyond! (Which is okay, too … I have nothing better to do!) 

We are FOR-FREAKING-EVER! Got it? 

Yes, my Beautiful One, I got it.

Good. Now, despite my directness, please understand, I recognize … and validate … how your view of yourself became so distorted; mine was distorted in many of the same ways. We’ve talked about many of the things that contributed to this “fun house mirror” image of you your ego has built out of thin air and other people’s judgments and distortions which are now, and always have been just more hot air. We’ve talked about the stories you’ve told yourself all your life. All of these are just thoughts; they have no reality except in your mind. They have no power over you unless you give them that power … unless you believe them and allow them to define you and stop you from being who you really are. I told myself similar stories … that I was unlovable … that I was worthless … that I was ugly … that I had to earn what was mine all the time by being perfect. 

L.O.V.E. is who we are … you … me … all of us. And we dance and sing together in the joy of our Kingdom of Love, which is the only reality that matters. 

It took my time in the Healing Hall to finally understand that none of those stories I told myself were true. None of them. You have an advantage. You don’t have to wait that long. I’m here to assure you that none of those stories are true. None of them. They are figments of your imagination … mirages that vanish in the light of Love … nightmares that dissolve in the light of the awakening Truth of who you are. You are in the process of investigating … and discovering … and remembering … and creating … and experiencing who you really are. That is the whole purpose of life.

The only story that has any relevance NOW is the one that you are writing and editing and being and experiencing NOW … and that includes us … you and I … and our oneness in our Kingdom of Love. I am so grateful for the connection we all share in our love dimension … both individually and collectively.

So am I, Michael, so am I! May I just interject here that I am working on dismantling and storing away another one of the longest-running chapters of the old, tired story I have told myself all my life?

Of course! Which one is that?

Well, I’ve always told myself that plants basically don’t like me.

They don’t like you? [Michael laughs.] What in the world gave you that idea?

Well, Michael, I’ve never been able to grow a plant of any description and keep it alive for more than a week, at most. Either I drown them or they don’t have enough light or my cats eat them; somehow they just never survive. So, I’ve always told myself that plants don’t like me … that I don’t have a green thumb at all. I can handle silk flowers … they last a little longer … but I’ve always steered clear of real, living plants (although I really do love them) because I didn’t want to kill them.

However, the other day, my husband and I were out and about and, knowing my love for the scent of gardenia, he ran across a lost-looking, abandoned little gardenia tree on the clearance rack (75% off) at a beautiful nursery we stopped at and bought it for me. It’s only about two feet tall and its foliage is pretty sparse, but I am determined that this little tree is going to help me rewrite my story regarding plants. It’s going to get the royal treatment.

The royal treatment?

Exactly! First of all, I checked with the nursery and was told that my little tree needs “bright light, but not necessarily direct sunlight.” Well, that’s a perfect description of the light in our new little art studio which receives beautiful, bright light most of the year (if there is any sun at all) because of its northern exposure. I am planning on talking to it, reading to it, misting it with water regularly, and playing it beautiful music like you did at Neverland. It’s an experiment on a very small scale in nurturing one little abandoned gardenia tree back to health using the same methods you used in your beautiful garden … as well as rewriting part of my old, tired story.

Excellent! Good for you! All living things respond to love and encouragement. No exceptions. Tell it how beautiful it is … visualize it growing taller and filling out and blooming with bright, fragrant blossoms. It will respond to your love and encouragement.

That’s my plan, but if you’ve got any little gardenia fairies laying around in Foreverland doing nothing, you might send them my way?

Gardenia fairies won’t be needed. It’s just like anything that causes you conflict. Apply a bandage of love, visualize it growing beautiful and strong, and stand back and be amazed at the miracle of life! All it needs is a little love. Now, what else you got?

Well, the summer is upon us along with all its reminders and memorials, which has gotten me to thinking again about all you endured in your time with us … and questioning why your life had to be so difficult.

And you’ve gotten yourself all wrapped up in thoughts of how unfair it all was, right?


So, your self-doubt and your undue attention to the judgment of unfairness has spiralled you into negative emotions?

Well, to a certain extent … but not entirely. I’ve been able to apply the brakes and slow that speeding locomotive down a bit. I’ve been doing a lot of reading to you … as well as to a friend who is laid up … and some of the readings have contributed to a partial, imperfect understanding … kinda changed my perspective to encompass a broader view of things … so that I wouldn’t slide down that negative spiral.

Very good! Excellent! I’m proud of you! Can you be more specific?

Well, in a book entitled “When Everything Changes, Change Everything” by Neale Donald Walsch, I found the following passages which pertain to the above:

“…What about the unthinkable plight of people who have endured unimaginable suffering in their lives?”

In which category, I include you, my Beloved. And the answer Mr. Walsch offers is:

“Everything that happens is happening for the highest evolutionary purpose – and it is notable that sometimes a soul reincarnates at a time and for a purpose that serves the agenda of another [or a whole group of others … or all of humanity collectively] …

Please note: the bracketed comment above is mine. Here, I am making the assumption that “highest evolutionary purpose” includes the highest and greatest benefit in an evolutionary (rather than a human) sense not only to the individual soul in question but also to all of the souls (lives) he or she touches during that physical life and, perhaps, beyond. Because we are all committed to a human experience, it is difficult for us to perceive that something that appears on the surface, human level to be a gross miscarriage of Divine justice could actually contribute to the evolutionary expansion of the soul in question and by extension all the souls it touches during its physical manifestation … and all of humankind.

Yes, that is true. Unless one is very “tuned in” to his or her soul’s agenda during a particular life, he or she could perceive the circumstances and occurrences experienced as cruel and entirely random, as I did at times. That’s why it is so important to remain “tuned in” on a daily basis … in touch with your spiritual essence. It’s like a radio station that fades out and becomes full of static as your car reaches the boundaries of its broadcasting radius. If you are entirely focused on the material reality that surrounds you and don’t acknowledge or pay attention to the spiritual essence that forms and creates your reality, your reception becomes full of static. But if you acknowledge and focus on your spiritual essence for a few minutes every day, even in the midst of your material reality, you can eliminate the static and stay within the broadcasting reach of the radio frequency.

Our society is entirely focused on the physical, tangible, material. The spiritual genesis of that reality is thought of as “airy-fairy, pie-in-the-sky idealism.” We are here to change that. We are here to change the world!

“…It could be said of many other masters and avatars and saints, some known and some not known, but easily recognizable by their actions, by what they have given and what they have sacrificed in order to serve the sacred and holy agenda of others.”

Mr. Walsch cites many examples of souls who have lived their physical lives in service to others, including Buddha, Jesus, Mohammed, Paramahansa Yogananda, Mother Theresa, Mahatma Gandhi, Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King, Jr., etc. I have always listed you among these avatars and saints who gave of themselves so generously for the betterment of humanity, and I make no apology for doing so again, here. To me, you are the perfect embodiment of this principle.

Awww! God bless you. I love you MORE, you know!

“Here is what I now understand: Some souls co-create experiences that are clearly (on a human level) hurtful and damaging to themselves. Nobody can know why they are doing this.

“…Maybe they have come to allow other souls a chance to experience themselves in a particular way.

In my opinion, based on my experience and those experiences of many of my friends who share our Kingdom of Love, this statement rings so true of you, Beloved. To so many of my friends and most of my readers, you have brought us back to ourselves … and sometimes selves that we never knew we could claim as ourselves … in ways that we cannot fully comprehend even now.

In my case, you have served as a catalyst for me experiencing myself as so totally different from what I could have ever imagined … an author … artist … a traveler who occasionally hops on a plane and walks in places you walked … a person who awakens every morning with a prayer of gratitude on her lips for a life she never knew was possible. We experience ourselves as different … changed … almost unrecognizable in remarkable ways because you came into our lives and allowed us a chance to “experience ourselves in a particular way” … as more than we had ever imagined was possible for us. The almost uncontrollable urge we all have to express this love that has taken over our lives has led us in unforeseen directions resulting in spectacular experiences … and we are so grateful.

Tired of Injustice

Tired of Injustice

I am glad you said it that way … “a catalyst.”  Would you look up the definition of that word and put it here, please?

Of course, my dear. Catalyst is derived from a Greek word (gotta love those Greeks, huh?) which refers in Chemistry to “a substance  that increases the rate of a chemical reaction without itself undergoing any permanent chemical change” or “a person or thing that precipitates an event.”

Thank you. Notice it says “a person or thing that precipitates an event.” A catalyst doesn’t actually perform the action and is not the event itself. It precipitates. It provides conditions that make the event possible and, perhaps, even probable. A catalyst makes an action or event more likely by facilitating it in some way … and, possibly, anticipating the action or event.

As we’ve talked about before in these dialogs, I didn’t change your life, your perspective or anything else; you (all of you) changed your life. Those definitions were always there inside you awaiting your recognition. They were embryonic possibilities awaiting your focus … your attention … to bloom into radiant flower very much like your little gardenia tree. All I did was love you all from the bottom of my heart for my entire life. You were my foundation, my Rock of Gibraltor, my strength. You were always there … when I was joyful and when I was sad … when I was afraid and when I was on top of the world. You were the one constant that I could always depend on. 

Everything I went through both good and bad happened for a reason, as I’ve said so often before. Of course, you have to realize that those are judgments. In truth, it was all good because it was all part of the Plan and God doesn’t DO BAD! Get it? BAD?!? Hahahaha. 

[Michael is thoroughly enjoying his little joke!]

No pun intended, right?

Oh no, not right … that one was entirely intended! [Still laughing!] Laughter is good for the soul! But back to what I was saying.

There is a purpose and it is beautiful. Even the things that you have judged as “bad” or “unfair” produced ripples in the quiet pond, some of which may have swept you or someone you know closer toward the shore of awareness … or caught you up in a tide of curiosity that urgently compelled you to investigate even though you didn’t understand what was happening at the time. That’s why Jesus said, “Judge not and neither condemn.” None of us can judge because none of us has enough information to judge. What looks to us as “unfair” from our perspective may be the ripple that brings meaningful change into someone’s life … or a lot of someones’ lives … or advances evolution in all of humanity.

When we met in love … whether it was early or late … you realized my love for you … it resonated within you … and you recognized your love for me. That recognition was seeded in the field of our Kingdom of Love. It had its genesis in the invisible realm, but it needed physical expression. That kind of love urgently needs to be expressed, shared. The followers of Sufism twirl and dance; Michelangelo paints and sculpts; I sang and danced to express and share it. So, all of you came up with your own individual ways of expressing that love and each and every one of them is beautiful. You focused that love in various ways and brought those expressions into the world of physical, material reality. 

It’s not really me; love is the catalyst (which shouldn’t surprise any of us because love is the catalyst for all of creation, from the tiniest microbe to the largest galaxy.) It’s all love made manifest.

So, you have all brought yourselves back to your SELVES through love, the Creator of the Universe. In other words, you have remembered who you really are and have found unique, enjoyable, and fun-filled ways of being that in your daily lives and the results have been spectacular. I had very little to do with it.

“Maybe they have come to provide “players” or “actors” for some larger “scene” in the whole drama of life, the acting out of which will permit huge numbers of humans to come to a singular realization at once.”

Because you lived your life on such a grand scale, it has had repercussions on a  scale that surpasses just the individual lives your soul has touched as you took the worldwide stage by storm. On a less individual, more collective level, your life and the beautiful way you lived it has brought an awareness of social and human problems that is still being felt in various ways on a global scale. “Huge numbers of humans” are returning to your messages in academic institutions, in concert halls and dance schools, examining your music with an eye to decoding the symbolism you used in your short films and deciphering your warnings regarding many of the social issues that you treated in your art.

For example, racial equality (which you treated in “Black or White” and “They Don’t Really Care About Us” among others) which the United States of America has deluded itself into thinking is a non-issue that was laid to rest during the 1960s is once again raising its ugly head. Recent headlines concerning a number of innocent, unarmed youths of color being gunned down by armed police officers are proving your art sadly prophetic. This country has been patting itself on the back for decades, congratulating itself for clearing that hurdle when, in fact, we have only been paying lip service (by eliminating certain words from socially acceptable discourse) to the racial equality modality. Your life held up a sobering mirror to that particular fantasy.

A new movement called Black Lives Matter which has grown out of these youth killings has adopted your song “They Don’t Really Care About Us” as its anthem. In at least one case of love replacing racially-motivated hate, riots in Baltimore following the shooting in that city were quelled by a young man with a loud speaker blasting your music and dancing in the streets to many of your songs, including “Beat It.” When he showed up, he was alone in a very volatile and unpredictable situation. However, as soon as he turned on the loudspeaker and your voice was recognized, he was joined by many of the rioters who had been looting and vandalizing property before he arrived and a very tense situation was turned into a “block party” with everyone singing along and dancing with Michael Jackson.

Now, that’s what I’m talking about! That is what music is for … to bring people together … to let them escape for a little while all their cares and problems. Music calms the savage beast in the human spirit. I love it!

Well, you can clearly see why I made my request above. There isn’t a candidate that I can think of on the current political scene that can do that! No one can unify angry, disillusioned people into a community dancing and singing with joy instead of being hell bent on destruction. Now, back to my first point of discussion. Are you going to get your gorgeous self back here and run for President?

No! We’ve talked about that before, too [reference Installment #37]. But it wouldn’t hurt for you to begin visualizing now for an alternative to the candidate field currently being offered. The right person is out there, rest assured. 

This is a very important time in mankind’s … and the planet’s … history. Our beautiful Earth is being bombarded with loving and healing energy from the celestial spheres … energies to help humanity awaken to its responsibility (ability to respond) to the conditions contributing to the turmoil so evident and observable everywhere. 

Science is discovering that the reality you see on the visible, material, physical level has its birth on the subatomic level in the realm of the invisible. It is all rooted in what quantum physicists are calling “The Field” and religion has called “spirit.” It’s all the same thing. It’s all energy … invisible energy vibrating at denser or more refined frequencies. In this, science is moving closer to religion; the two supposedly polar extremities are becoming closer and closer to integration. It’s no longer a matter of black or white, hot or cold, science or religion. It is both/and. And we can all help to bring about this awareness by first looking at ourselves and “making that change.” 

By remembering our true nature as having been born in the realm of the invisible, we can broaden our perspective by examining the judgments we have made in the past and realizing that “it doesn’t matter if it’s black or white.” We can stop judging ourselves, our neighbors, our countries and our world and make “a little space to make a better place.” Gentleness and compassion with ourselves produces more understanding, gentleness and compassion when we deal with our neighbors.

We are on the road to great rememberings and a viable candidate is part of the Plan at this important time in the evolution of mankind. Have faith in that. Instead of worrying (which is the battle no one wins, remember), visualize happily casting your vote for a leader who will be the answer to your prayers. Then, sit back and be amazed!





Awakening the lightning, slumbering deep within
It waits …
It knows not for what
While we sleep the featureless sleep of the unconscious
Sedated by the just good enough
Insensitive minds
Drugged by complacent mediocrity
Dreamless in self-righteous judgments
Compassionless in our apathy
Motionless in our unawareness
Loveless in our blind attention on mindless chatter
We drift
Afraid to live, but scared to die

Until …
In one blistering, glorious moment
The darkness is pierced by a single beam,
Pulsing just once
Across the minefield of our defenses
A no-man’s land
Bordered by barbed thought to keep love out
Stretching from a past, filled with cold regret
To a future, warning, “no, not yet.”

Quicksilver …
You flash across our cloud-draped skies
Hung in funereal mourning
For what we don’t even know we’ve lost
Eyes focused in a present moment we have no comprehension of
Jaw set in bold, challenge, “Awaken!”
Body relaxed, flowing … yet tightly coiled
A feline grace, readying to pounce
On an unsuspecting mouse
One tiny, precious beacon
In a sea of lost humanity
Savoring the build up
Anticipating an intense release of energy
Crackling earthward
To ignite the lightning rods of a million hearts

In that flash, we see pain
We have lived over and over
In that flicker, we embrace
Joy we have never known
But sought desperately
The thunder of your storm alerts us
In your presence, we dance at last,
Joyfully abandoning our difference
Happy to finally be released from invisible bonds
With which we have shackled seldom dreamed of ambitions
We sing
Our muffled voices stilled no longer
We flock to you
Our point guard and Wayshower
Our Pied Piper
Who dances before us
And whose song drifts back to us
In tidal waves

We turn as one
Soaring into a tomorrow
Vastly different from yesterday
Yet fully present in this moment in our expanded awareness
Featureless no longer,
Our slumber is filled with golden landscapes
Vibrating with color
Undulating in soft, summer breezes of love
Dreamless no longer,
Our sleep is peppered with vision not yet born
Awaiting only our attention to become reality
Sedated no longer,
We strive for the unattainable
In a vast, fathomless ocean of what is possible
Apathetic no longer,
We reach out from our prisons to hold hands with our world
And find bars insubstantial
Boundaries offering little resistance to our achievement

Because your lightning flashed across our lives
In one, blistering, glorious moment

Awakening …

@ J.C. 7/13/2015


The Seer

You are the Love Song
Playing always in my heart
A beautiful melody bringing laughter and tears
Joy and sadness
Its beauty captivates my soul
Its magic moves my body
Its rhythm, the ever-present pulse
Pushing delicious liquid through the veins of my moments
Branching into every part of my being
Making them whole
Leaving nothing untouched by its sweetness
Would I savor the sweetness
Leaving the bitterness on the plate to be discarded, forgotten?
No …
For its bitterness is also you
I would taste it all
Every morsel, every drop
Is your sweet song
Peace and pain inseparable in this tune
Intricate harmonies wind themselves in a web of unearthly splendor
Delivering both within the tapestry
Delicate, complicated syncopation
Weaves them together
Bonds them each to the other
They are ONE and the same
Joined in an unbreakable sacrament
Yet …
Only the most elementary lyric
Could speak of such beauty




May 28, 2015 through June 15, 2015

Since I will not be attending the events surrounding the Sixth Anniversary of The Day the Earth Stood Still in Los Angeles and Neverland this year, I felt that all of us “stay-at-homes” needed a little distraction. Of course, I do realize that we all have our own ways of memorializing … and celebrating … Michael Incredible Jackson. Mine will undoubtedly include (but not, by any means, be limited to) my customary month-long, nightly prayer/meditation vigil, a ritual observance I began in June, 2010 (described in Installment #21, March 26 through April 2, 2011) and which I have continued in each successive June when I am not physically “on pilgrimage.”

Nevertheless, I feel, our inability to participate in the communal events occurring in California (for whatever reason) while we all, at the same time, long to be there and part of it all with all our hearts, fragments our wholeness, divides our attention and keeps our inner worlds in turmoil. These conflicting emotions and thoughts cause us anxiety and stress. So, I thought a little distraction … for a few moments, at least, might be a good idea. Maybe, just maybe, we could, instead … uh … take our minds off being physically homebound by engaging our imaginations in a joyful, playful, innocent, open “pilgrimage” … allowing them to soar free to the sacred places we so dream about … above divisions and conflict.

I have decided that  … drumroll, please … cue the soft, relaxing music … perhaps, an Imaginary Interlude would be welcome. Buckle your seat belts, please, dear readers; some turbulence is expected.

As regular readers will no doubt recall from the end of Installment #94, I had just learned that the claim against Michael’s Estate filed by Wade Robson had been dismissed by Judge Beckloff and I was in MAJOR celebration mode, particularly in light of the over two years of increasingly horrifying and sick-making sensational stories leaked to the gutter press and our prayers and visualizations covering the same span. Since I am usually home alone, my celebrations are by necessity fairly staid and frequently consist of finding ways to include Michael. So, it will come as no great surprise to anyone to learn that I decided to visit Neverland Valley Ranch with the help of my Neverland CD of nature sounds. What follows is a description of that visit on May 28, 2015.

As the natural symphony of birdsong and water rushing over rocks in its path began to play, I was instantly transported to Neverland Valley Ranch. The ease of my passage shocked even me. I found myself standing on the beautifully manicured lawn at the rocky escarpment beside Ryan’s Bridge so quickly that I stood, disoriented for a few moments, taking in the beauty and tranquility of this feature of Neverland’s scenery. From this vantage point beside the bridge, incredible vistas designed by an artist of incomparable skill stretch in every direction, all painstakingly carved out of and grafted onto the land and backdropped by the mountains in the distance, in such a way that they appear to have occurred organically as a result of nature’s exuberance rather than plotted and planned by human hands, each scene more beautiful and colorful than the last.

During my regular visits to Michael’s ranch, I usually take a few minutes to breathe deeply and set my intention to release my hold on what is commonly referred to as reality … to be open and innocent … to reserve judgment and let go of my mind’s need to qualify, identify, classify, explain, categorize, judge, label or, in any way, dissect the experience. Since I was in celebration mode, this was especially true during my visit on May 28, 2015.

As I steadied and quieted my breath and mind, I was able to very clearly visualize my surroundings. [Note to the reader: the clarity of the sensory experiences described in this Installment was awe-inspiring. It was like sitting in an IMAX theater watching these scenes unfold in full technicolor and Dolby surround sound.]

As many of my readers know, this visualizing thing is still fairly new to me. I used to think I couldn’t visualize or dream, for that matter, until Michael showed me during the trial of Conrad Murray, that I can, indeed, be fairly successful in this new exercise of visualization. I have been taking full and unabashed advantage of his tutelage ever since. Personally, I have found these visualizations entirely beneficial as my skill in creative visualization has increased and I recommend them highly to all my readers. However, nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to witness. The clarity of sight … sound … olfactory … tactile sensations I was about to experience still leave me breathless.

I turned around very slowly to fully savor the sights and smells and sounds in every direction … the flower beds, all planted with riotous color, redolent with the scents of flowers and fertile earth and bordered in natural stone … the coolness and softness of the lush carpet of lawn extending as far as the eye could see on my bare feet … the majestic, gnarled trees forming a canopy above the plantings through which various breeds of bird flew, singing and rejoicing exuberantly … the water sparkling like diamonds as it falls over the rocks at the side of the lake … the mountains in the distance lit warmly golden by the afternooon sun … the main residence and guest cottages behind me and to my left with their mullioned windows and dark wood, Tudor-style beams, shaded by tall trees and lushly planted in wonderful garden settings on every side … the fountains and water features lending their magic song to the symphony  of the garden settings … the winding pathways of natural stone leading into, around and through each lovely feature … the rocks directly in front of me with the bridge to the right … and the lake flowing under the bridge to emerge beyond it, opening into an ornamental lake with water spouts climbing into the sky and swans floating motionless on the surface.

The place just teams with life and overflows with the force of love. It is a place in which organic, natural beauty is completely harmonized with artistic ingenuity, man-imagined, designed and crafted beauty. The product of one man’s imagination … Michael Jackson … and it shows what humanity is capable of creating by working hand-in-hand with nature rather than against it. It is a place of joy; it is my place of joy. Every blade of grass exudes it, every flower petal and leaf breathes it, it rises from the very ground to create an atmosphere of pure love energy. The man who created it poured his soul into every project he undertook and that soul is reflected in every inch of the 2,700 acres. It is here that that man painted his life like the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel and invited all comers to participate and enjoy his vision. Every vista … every scene … is a masterpiece of planning and execution and each contributes to the serenity slowly filling me with every breath.

I completed my slow revolution and began to spin faster and faster, my arms outstretched to embrace this place and the beautiful soul reflected in every feature … with my head thrown back to view a nearly cloudless, blue sky. I recognize it … remember it as if I had been here before and it welcomed my return. It is truly the home of my heart and soul.

Feeling a little dizzy, I stopped revolving and turned toward the bridge where I saw Michael approaching on the opposite side. As he stepped onto the bridge, he was our beautiful Beloved as he appeared in This Is It … tall, lean with his smile lighting his eyes … but step-by-step he became younger and younger … shapeshifting before my eyes into the trial years … the Invincible years … the HIStory years … the Dangerous years … the BAD years … the Thriller years … the Off the Wall years … the Jacksons years … each more beautiful than the last … until he reached the side upon which I was standing as a 10-year-old boy with closely cropped hair, beautiful mocha-colored skin, deeply penetrating eyes and a great, big, mischievous smile on his face, setting the tone of this visit firmly in the realm of the “inner child.”

I knew I was in for some F-U-N! While no words were spoken, the feeling was:

“Clap! Clap! Anybody here like games?”

I was not surprised to find myself, too, morphing into that 10-year-old child I never really got the chance to be due to circumstances beyond my control (and described in several previous Installments, so I won’t bore my readers with those details here.) Suffice to say that Michael has schooled me in revisiting that innocent, playful girl on occasion … and she and I are becoming much more fully … and happily … acquainted. What I did NOT know … and could never have imagined … was exactly HOW MUCH magical, mystical fun was going to be squeezed into this hour-long visit. I mean how much F-U-N can one possibly compact enough to fit into one, tiny little hour? I was about to find out!

While many of my afternoon “power naps” in Neverland are replete with meanings and significance that send ripples radiating outward toward the far-flung shores of the rest of my life in various ways … or lengthy discussions of long past but never-quite-forgotten events that help me broaden my perspective … I got the feeling that this visit was going to be different. After all, during our discussion in Installment #94, I had asked Michael to accompany me in my celebration and he appeared on this occasion to have every intention of showing me a celebration to end all celebrations. I would not be disappointed.

When Michael reached me, he grabbed my hand and ran to the rocky escarpment by the bridge, his clothing landing in little piles along the way, and dove into the water from the rocks. Finally surfacing, he turned back toward me, his head rising up and down as he treaded water, and waited for me to dive in after him. We swam and dunked and splashed each other, laughing hysterically the entire time. Then we slid down the rocks nearest the water (made smooth by the water rushing over them and leaving a slick surface behind) with him leading the way and me following in his wake, splashing once again into the lake only to run up the bank and slide back down.

The afternoon sun was warm, the sky a clear blue and the water was cool, tingling against our bare skin; it was a perfect California afternoon, the droplets sparkling with little diamonds in the sun. Occasionally, we would leave the lake and dry ourselves in the open air, lying on our backs under the trees, two beautiful, innocent, uninhibited children holding hands … with no pasts to cloud our happiness, no shame to mar our enjoyment and no future to worry about. We were free to do nothing more than fully live these moments … NOW.

We did manage to take a few moments from our carefree romp to remember our “Change the World” intention for the day and sent the light of love to the corporate global media lying beneath a massive tree with our hands linked, our fingers intertwined and listening to the natural symphony playing out all around us.

Gazing up at the perfectly blue sky through the leaves of the tree, a cloud … wispy and amorphous … floated past where we were lying, soaking up the sun. At first, we tried to imagine a shape in the cloud with varying degrees of success, and we giggled over our unsuccessful attempts. Eventually, Michael laughed and said we needed to make things a little easier; we graduated from imagining shapes to creating them.

We reached up and stopped the cloud’s passage to mold and shape it … as if it was Play Doh … into magical animal shapes. Unfortunately, since we were still holding hands with our fingers tightly woven in a tapestry of togetherness, while my right hand was shaping a rabbit’s haunches, his left hand was shaping an elephant’s trunk and floppy ears … so we ended up with some fairly interesting and hysterical hybrids, which would slither, slink, slide or gallop off across the sky, making room for the next cloud to float past to be shaped and eliciting peels of laughter as it exited stage left. As we got warmed and dried by the sun, we jumped up and dove into the water again for more swimming and sliding, dunking and splashing … and, of course, more peels of laughter rang out to enrich the entire atmosphere with joy.

Eventually, we swam under the middle arch of the bridge to play in the ornamental lake, being scolded by a pair of swans for disturbing their peaceful playground, which just sent us into more gales of laughter. Swimming up to the dock where a swan-shaped boat sat moored, we jumped aboard it, cast off the lines tethering it to the dock, and lay on the seats, facing in opposite directions and just let the small craft drift wherever the current took it. We continued our game with the clouds, shaping them like clay with the added hysterical-laughter-producing effect that because we were facing in opposite directions, either my side or his side of the animal was upside down. Have you ever seen an eight point buck standing on its head with the wings and tail of a peacock? Uproariously funny!

When we got hot, we jumped back in the water and swam, tipping the boat as we climbed back on board soaking wet and taking up our positions on the seats again. Of course, all this tipping resulted in the bottom of our little ship filling with water to the level of the wooden seats, but instead of sinking, the craft just overflowed its sides and stayed afloat with colorful little fish being dumped in both directions over the sides and jumping over our bodies, lying on the seats, still joined by hands and fingers.

Michael grabbed a wispy cloud and fashioned a ring to hold up for the fish to jump through … and, surprisingly enough, they did. Furthermore, they seemed to enjoy jumping through his ring. So, he grabbed another one, fashioned it in a ring and handed it to me … and we had a regular “fish circus act” jumping through his hoop, back into the water in the bottom of the boat  and then through mine. Who knew you could train little, tiny rainbow-colored fish to jump through hoops? It seemed … at least, in this moment and in this place … that anything was possible.

Suddenly, he sat up on his seat, released my hand, cupped his hands and submerged them in the water to form a little lake and lifted them to me, his eyebrows raised in challenge. He offered his hands and what they contained to me. I, too, sat up with my knees touching his, covered in water and took the contents into my cupped hands. There, in my hands, was a small, brightly colored WHALE the size of a guppy, breaching in the bowl of water he had gathered from the bottom of the boat. I looked deeply into his eyes in the wonder of it and we both just laughed. No explanations were considered, offered, necessary … or possible. And the wonders and laughter just kept on coming.

When we got tired of playing in the boat, we swam to the edge of the lake in search of ice cream, leaving the boat to be buffeted by the gentle currents created by the water spouts, and ran willy-nilly toward the arcade room, dripping ice cream along the way. I understood, somehow, that he was unable to contain his excitement to show me a new game he had just received called “Black Holes” and he wanted it to be a surprise. Coming up behind me, he put both of his sticky, ice-cream-covered hands over my eyes as he steered me inside.

I knew he wanted me to be impressed … and I did try to act surprised when he removed his hands … but it didn’t look like much from the outside, except it was BIG. I mean, this game was huge, occupying the entire middle of the floor of the arcade room, leaving little room for the rows of pin-ball type games in single file along the walls, and extending all the way up to the landing on the stairs of the two story room … just below where Captain Hook was being chased by Peter Pan around the cove-like ceiling. It was big enough for two of us to sit side-by-side in the capsule-shaped cabin with plenty of room left over. Fortunately, we were still children so my hips fit comfortably next to his on the bench as he closed the cabin door to start the game.

Immediately, we were plunged into a black, tunnel-shaped funnel and ejected forcefully out the other end into a magnificent starfield with millions of stars interspersed and joined by a bluish cloud. The capsule seemed to be able steer itself through the starfield at a leisurely pace, but could also be steered by a joystick-looking protuberance located between us and Michael took great pleasure in steering us around clusters of stars for an upclose and personal look. By using the dials and buttons, he could lasso the stars, gathering them together as if he were herding cattle, and fling them out into the beautiful blue cloud with ease, creating new configurations and constellations. We could, if we chose, reach out and touch the stars with our hands or pop them like bubbles blown from a child’s wand dipped in soapy water. It seemed like we spent hours circling around this first starfield with the beautiful, blue light swarming around us. We were in no particular hurry.

The fact that these visualizations were so clear and beautiful and visually stunning is one that I have to attribute to something other than my “novitiate level” skill at visualization, which, while I admit is improving, has in no way reached this level of detail and clarity. I was being majorly helped here by the pilot of the vessel … and my ever-generous and solicitous host. I understood that. While my body was resting in my recliner on the dark side of the moon, I was being taken on a tour of galaxies and nebula light years beyond my poor ability to imagine.



As we neared the center of the starfield, the capsule accelerated towards another circular tunnel and we were deposited into a new and different starfield joined by pink and purple wispy clouds with bright, white, strobing lights at the center. The capsule slowed, once again, to allow us to explore to our hearts content, playing with this starfield as we had with the first. We drifted our hands through the swirling pink and purple gases, leaving trails and ribbons of brightly colored “tails” in their wake which appeared, at times, like peanut butter and jelly swirled together in ribbons and at others like cursive handwriting spelling out messages like “I love you” and “We are forever.” Michael was all wonder and awe as his curiosity soared and he steered us through clusters of stars and clouds that seemed neverending.

Through another Black Hole tunnel, the starfield resembled a revolving disc with trails of brightly-lit, white clouds that were almost milky in viscosity and we rode the farthest reaches of this galaxy which so closely resembled the Milky Way in which Planet Earth is located as if it were a carousel, spinning in joy and trailing stardust; through another, we were surrounded by galaxies and universes extending as far as the imagination would allow. There seemed to be an infinite number of these starfields, each different and unique and beautiful. And we explored them all.

“Black Holes,” the game, seemed to have no time limit, as indeed the entire fun-filled afternoon of swimming and playing with clouds and “circus acts featuring fish” and laughter seemed to stretch into eternity. But eventually, we exited the capsule and the arcade still holding hands as one would with one’s best friend.

However, as we left the building and entered the sunlight outside, we were again our adult selves … Michael as we have all seen him, beautiful and in command in This Is It … the director and lead actor in this 4D, technicolor movie … and me as I am today. We ambled down the walkway to Ryan’s Bridge hand-in-hand as “You Are Not Alone” began to play and he began to sing along. Together, we danced beneath the massive tree that had held our Play Doh cloud animals and nurtured our “inner children” as he swung me around, kneeling in front of me … chivalrous and gallant … only to rise again, swing me around and kiss me on the forehead.

I awoke just as my 60-minute CD of birdsong and water tripping over rocks in its path was ending. We had squeezed as much fun and frolic, laughter and play … and love … into one afternoon as any two children could have possibly imagined … and, more amazing, it all happened in one hour. Sixty minutes … one tiny little hour!

I admit to being a little sad to awaken back into this reality, but my sadness was completely overcome by my joy and gratitude and all were leaking from my eyes. I put in disc 2 of my HIStory CD and danced again with him with the strains of “You Are Not Alone” filling the space in my little Sanctuary.

When I had invited Michael to join me in my celebration, I had no idea … none whatsoever. He had shown me a celebration to end all celebrations. No one and nothing could have topped this one.

To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an Hour

He had led me to EXPERIENCE the meaning of those famous words by William Blake (and he had experienced them with me) … rather than just to know them. These words have been used to portray Michael’s sense of wonder and awe by Howard Bloom. It was an apt portrayal. Experiencing them with him is something that will stay with me forever.


Postscript: When I tried to rise from my recliner, I was sore … as sore as I have ever been from an afternoon of physical exertion … like swimming, for example … hmmm!

Post-postscript: I pray that all of my beautiful friends travel safely in the light of love, gather joyfully and peacefully in Michael’s honor, and walk softly in his sacred places. He will be walking among you … yes … but he is also holding all of us who travel in our imaginations closely. In His Love


May 26 through May 29, 2015


I am so, so sorry.

Huh? Why?

Well, I kinda have some bad news to report and I am so hoping you won’t be angry. I don’t really know how to tell you.

Usually, the best way is to just say it and get it over with. Do I need to sit down?

Uh … I’m not sure … okay … you remember my DVD player?

The psychotic one?

Yes, my dear, that’s the one. You asked me to never get rid of the psychotic DVD player.

Yeah! I remember. That thing is so responsive.

Michael, I’ve had to get rid of the DVD player. I’m so sorry! In my defense, it had developed either a bad wire or one of the channels was going out or something. I’m not totally sure exactly what was wrong with it, but during playback of either movies or compact discs, I would entirely lose a channel … the entire “surround” effect would just disappear. I tried everything I could think of … reconnecting the speaker wires … re-establishing the connections to the television set, etc. … but nothing I did repaired the problem. So, I have had to replace the DVD player.

[Michael laughs out loud.] Geez! Don’t scare me like that! I thought we had a serious problem here. Don’t worry about it. When something isn’t working for you, you need to change it. I’ll just turn on whatever you replaced it with. I know how to get your attention when I want it.

Yes, you sure do! Oh, Baby … I am so relieved. I thought you would be disappointed and I never, ever want to disappoint you. I was hesitant to tell you.

No, I’m not disappointed. This is just another example of how you just insist on “worrying” … and tying yourself in knots … about anything. Worry is the game nobody wins.

Fought in a battle where nobody won
Left ourselves a mountain to be overcome
You can’t run away
The past is said and done
I need us to carry on

Oh my gosh, Michael … that song … that song! Do you remember when we discussed the Symphony in the Key of Love and you compared the effect of our childhood experiences to hearing the Symphony through various kinds of audio equipment?

Yes, I remember.

I just love that analogy so much. You said [reference Installment #3, November 18-25, 2010]:

Okay, so … if we are the symphony … our childhood is the instrument through which we hear the music … the filter through which the music flows to our sense of hearing. Every note of the entire composition is filtered through this instrument.

You don’t have to be a musician to understand this. Anyone who has ever bought a radio can relate to this … different instruments transmit a different tonal quality. For example, a transistor radio with one earplug gives a mono or one-track reproduction of the symphony. The bass is muted; the treble is dampened and both are condensed into the midrange. So we are not hearing the symphony’s fullness through that instrument. We are getting an estimate of what the entire composition sounds like rather than a clear and true reproduction. A computer’s speaker system is similar in a way; it does not give the listener an accurate reproduction of the entire symphony because the quality of the speaker system in a computer is poor to mediocre.

A decent stereo gives better audio quality because it can separate the midrange from the bass and treble and give a truer reproduction of the tonal quality of the entire production. But we aren’t there, yet, are we? A Dolby-enhanced system gives an even truer reproduction, especially when it includes a separate woofer or bass speaker to truly give depth to the bass sections. A recording studio is the truest, most accurate reproduction of each individual note in the symphony because each line can be adjusted or modulated to give the listener the effect of being in a concert hall, but it’s kinda big and wouldn’t fit in everyone’s home.

So, each person who is listening to the same symphony is hearing the symphony through the filter of the system or instrument through which it is being played. Therefore, each listener is hearing something different … from a rough estimate to a true reproduction of every instrument … or having a different experience of the entire symphony. Right?

Yes, I remember.

That conversation (Installment #3) went on to describe how we all experience life through the filter of our childhoods and how our every thought, word and action is impacted by the judgments and definitions and labels we absorb from our experiences of childhood. We carry those judgments and labels throughout our lives. In other words, our childhoods don’t really “end” when we are 18 or 21 because we continue to see ourselves … and life … and God … and everything … in the way we were taught to view them.

Exactly! We are all born into a societal and cultural story. That story is inculcated into us through parental, educational, religious and secular authority figures from the moment of our birth into this physical life. We absorb it almost by osmosis. We are taught very early on not to “rock the boat” … not to “upset the status quo” … not to “disturb the adults” in our lives … and, for heaven’s sake, “never upset the apple cart.” 

As we grow into adulthood, we are a reflection of our experiences throughout our childhoods because they have shaped and molded us to interpret everything we experience from the perspective of those judgments and definitions. We reflect both the “good” and “bad” influences of the stories we have been told by those authorities … and those we have told ourselves … throughout our childhoods.

Many of us continue to tell ourselves those same stories with little change throughout our lifetimes, accepting them as the truth of who and what we are. You did, didn’t you?

Yes, I sure did for a very long time … until I didn’t.

Right! And I did … until I didn’t. But we don’t fulfill our purpose if we continue to tell ourselves the same stories about life and about ourselves over and over again, whether they are true or not, do we? We just keep repeating the same mistakes over and over again … both personally and collectively. How often have we heard the phrase “History repeats itself?” However, we never hear anything about how to stop that repetition; we’re taught that that’s just the way it is and there’s nothing we can do about it … and we accept that … unless we don’t.

Are we just here to “blend in” … to “get by” until the end? To many, that is the goal and purpose of life. Not making waves is all they ask of the life they are living. Any challenge to their accepted concept of life is unthinkable, intolerable, dangerous and needs to be “put in its place” … if not outright killed. If we believe those voices that we hear in our heads telling us that we are imperfect, not worthy, ugly or whatever … and we really can’t ever aspire to be anything better than imperfect, unworthy, ugly or whatever because that is our nature … what’s the point of life?

We’re on a mission for the everlasting light that shines
A revelation of the true enchantment of our minds


How do we change the world if we just accept and retell the old stories that have made it what it is to begin with forever and ever and ever? 

Or are we here to evolve, to grow, to challenge ourselves to improve our performance in the play of life … and to develop new stories that paint a truer picture of who and what we are … NOW? If we examine those stories we have accepted without question for most of our lives and decide that they are not working for us anymore because we are interested, perhaps, in expanding our ideas of ourselves … or developing a new skill like … I don’t know … let’s say … drawing and painting … or writing … can’t we change those stories to include our new interest and to more clearly refine our definitions of who we are and what we are capable of … NOW? If those old, tired stories from our childhoods don’t define the person we wish to be in the present moment precisely enough, do we not have the ability to choose to question those previous definitions and arrive at a fuller and deeper understanding? 

It’s just like your ‘psychotic’ DVD player; it wasn’t working for you anymore so you replaced it. I assume that what you replaced it with works better, right?

Oh yeah! I replaced the ‘psychotic’ DVD player with something that is fairly new on the audio technology scene called a “soundbar” that sits in front of the television set. It is about three feet long and about 1 1/2 inches deep and high and it has a wireless subwoofer that sits on the floor at the back of the room, so it simulates a five speaker surround sound system, but there are no speaker wires snaking all over my little sanctuary.

The thing is that I have been playing with this thing ever since my husband bought it for me for Mother’s Day a couple of weeks ago. I have never heard music so clearly, with the possible exception of the In The Studio seminar I attended in Los Angeles last year by Brad Sundberg. He played a lot of your music on some absolutely fantastic (and expensive) speakers and the clarity of those speakers, even at the “are you nuts” level, (approaching the decibel level at which you liked to listen to a playback in the studio) was amazing. Absolutely NO distortion in any of the frequencies. The song Childhood played on those speakers … and the video of the recording session that accompanied it … were an emotional experience that I will never forget; your exuberance during the recording of the song changed my whole understanding of that song forever. Previously, I had envisioned it as a melancholy song (as, indeed, it is depicted in the short film release), but while you were recording it, your emotional timbre was anything but melancholy; it was exuberant, triumphant, joyful and you were literally uplifted by the orchestral accompaniment … it was visible and palpable. Anyway, back to the topic.

This soundbar approaches that level of clarity (at least in my little Sanctuary); your voice played through this thing is indescribably delicious.

[Michael laughs.] Indescribably delicious … I love it … wasn’t that a candy bar? First, I’m a ninja butterfly-whisperer, then robins … and now, a candy bar! I’m slipping.

[Jan laughs.] Yeah, a Mounds bar, wasn’t it? I think. Anyway, when I first got this thing, I had to play all of your albums sequentially; it was like hearing your music for the first time. We are not talking about a transistor radio with one earplug here, Baby … or even my previous five speaker surround sound (which I thought was pretty good quality but which I have since discovered really wasn’t all that good at all. I’ve been told that they don’t put really good quality speakers in those systems. Who knew?)

We are talking studio quality reproduction of every little thread and nuance in the tapestry of your music … your beat boxing percussions in the background that so often form the foundation of your music are clear as a bell through this soundbar … your intricate, double and triple tracked harmonies are breathtaking, a rhapsodic rapture to which I could easily become addicted … your heartbeat in Smooth Criminal sounds like I am wearing a stethoscope … your pure, nearly unaccompanied voice in Childhood and Be Not Always and the a capella versions, from I’ll Be There through Xscape are nothing short of swoonworthy … well, the list could go on and on into infinity. Suffice to say … I am in audiophile heaven over here! I had absolutely no idea of all that I was missing in your recordings and short films.

There ya go. You don’t determine that something isn’t working for you and go out and get something that works less well; normally, you want something that works better … that allows you a fuller or deeper experience of the music, in this case … an improvement over what you had before. Yes, you were satisfied with your surround system while it lasted, but no technology lasts forever. How long did you have that system?

Gee, Baby … I don’t know … maybe ten years? That feels about right. I had had that system for a couple of years on the day the earth stood still … and that was six years ago.

Ten years? Wow, that’s really good! I mean that’s a really long time for something like this. In the years since you purchased and set up your surround system, technology has marched on. It has changed the entire field of audio technology in that time. IT HAS EVOLVED!

We have talked in great depth about Earth Song before [reference Installment #37, July 30 through August 6, 2011]  and the years that I worked on it. During those years of work, from the initial inspiration to the final outcome, the audio technology EVOLVED; it actually changed so that I could get the depth that I wanted to hear in the playback. I think you called it ‘apocryphal.’ When I started on the song, apocryphal just wasn’t possible, regardless of the fact that that was the way I was hearing it in my head. However, by the final release, the audio recording technology had advanced to make what was previously impossible possible.

Okay … so when something doesn’t work for you anymore … what do you do?

Well, I guess you could ignore its failings and cling to it out of desperation. I did that for several months, but I’m not terribly good at that option, especially as it relates to your music. You can try to repair it and return it to its former satisfactory status, but, in this case, I was told that repairing that system would be much more expensive than just getting a new one. Or you can replace it.

Exactly! Now … let me ask you this. When you are faced with a choice to replace something in your life, do you replace it with something that is exactly like what you had before to the letter? Do you regress and replace it with something older, less advanced, with less functionality? Or do you look for something that will do MORE than what you had before, BETTER than it did it?

Well, I usually opt for the best that I can afford unless my husband is with me when I am looking. In that case, he pushes what I can afford further and gets me AWESOME! [God bless him!] I usually want MORE and BETTER and more inclusive.

You are too easy! [Michael laughs.] And I love you!

Yay! I get to say, “I love you MORE!” this time.

That’s okay … I love you MOST! 

But back to our discussion. Quit trying to distract me.

That’s called EVOLUTION. Your taste in audio equipment has evolved. In addition, technology has evolved to allow you a deeper and fuller understanding of the music.

Life is the same way; it evolves. So, as adults, we look back on those judgments, labels, definitions that we acquired during our childhoods and we are faced with the same choices if we determine that they are not working for us anymore. 

We can, as you said above, “ignore their failings and cling to them out of desperation” and a lot of people choose this as the wisest path because they don’t want to “rock the boat” much less “upset the applecart.” It’s much safer to stay rooted in what we know, have accepted and are comfortable with than to stretch that comfort zone to include new information. The old stories were ‘good enough.’ Why fix what ain’t broke? 

However, they weren’t working for you anymore, so you tried pursuing your new interests and releasing your old resentments and, in the process, wrote a deeper and fuller understanding of your story by including new, more current information. You didn’t throw the whole thing out; there was no throwing the ‘baby out with the bathwater.’ You just stretched the confines of your story a little bit (because they were too limiting) to include new information you had acquired as a result of your experiences in the last couple of years. But as a result of your expansion, your story has changed and you are not telling yourself the same ‘broken’ and ‘wounded’ story you had grown up with. Your personal story has evolved into a truer, more refined definition of who and what you are … NOW.

Gnosis - An intuitive knowledge of Spiritual Truth Reproduced here by permission of commissioner

Gnosis – An intuitive knowledge of Spiritual Truth
Reproduced here by permission of commissioner

The same applies on a societal, collective level. We have been telling ourselves the same cultural story for thousands of years … generation after generation after generation. And we are repeating history with every generation … more killing … more wars … more devastation … more children dying … more planetary upheaval. Our stories have not evolved and kept pace with our evolution in technology, medicine, invention, science. We are trying to apply 1st Century solutions to 21st Century problems. I repeat:


If this statement weren’t true, why educate ourselves … why improve our technology … why increase our understanding of medicine, develop vaccines, eradicate diseases … why attend churches, develop faster communication and more efficient transportation? Why set our aims higher, travel to the moon, explore outer … or inner … space? If we’re not allowed to question the stories we’ve told ourselves … what we’ve believed in … and what we’ve accepted and been satisfied with … as true for thousands of years, there would be no point in rising above the level of cave dwellers. What would be the point?

The drive toward evolution was implanted in the human being at its creation, and each and every one of us has that chip in our genetic code. We strive to improve our standard of living, our education, our understanding of science and mathematics, our knowledge of the way the world works, the way the universe was created, the way our bodies work, the way our minds work … just as you tried to improve your audio technology.  The one thing we do not allow ourselves to question is our understandings of God; challenging those understandings will start a war or get you stoned real quick. 

However, when we refer back to the cultural story we have all been indoctrinated with, the story we find is antiquated, outdated and just plain doesn’t work anymore (and really never has, when you get down to it). Look at the world! You don’t have to look very hard for the proof of this statement.

Nevertheless, most of the world ‘ignores its failings and clings to it in desperation.’ We make anyone who challenges the stories we have told ourselves for thousands of years wrong … anyone who questions them bad … anyone who lives a life of pointing out their failings a freak.

Now, I suppose you could have done that with your DVD player. After all, calling a piece of technology wrong, bad or a freak would probably have relieved the frustration you felt with it as you clung to it in desperation out of respect for my request to never get rid of it. However, you and your appreciation of the music would not have evolved. By replacing it, you’ve expanded your understanding of the music and gained a fuller and broader experience of it. Just by making room to include your newly evolved sensory perception of the currently available technological advances and exchanging the old, outdated system with something that more closely aligns with the evolution of your sensory appreciation, you have “made a little space” for the evolution of your experience of music.

The same is true of life. We are not our stories. We are the authors and editors of our stories. We are not the ‘dramas’ and ‘plays’ we have carried with us since our infancy … and the human race’s infancy; we are the actors and directors and screenwriters of our plays and dramas. We have the ability to stretch the stories we have been told for milleniums to make a little space for a more accurate portrait of ourselves … our world … our beliefs … our God … according to more currently available information. As a matter of fact, that is what we are here to do. We ARE here to change the world.


Oh my GOSH! THANK GOD! THANK GOD! THANK GOD! Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition!

Michael, may we shift gears a little bit here?

[Michael jumps a little at my exclamation … like he’s startled.]  Of course … what’s up?

My Dear One, I awakened this morning (May 28, 2015) to be greeted by the news that Judge Beckloff has handed down his ruling in the case of Wade Robson’s claim against your Estate. The Judge ruled that his case was dismissed based upon the expiration of the statute of limitations. The rule of law has triumphed; precedent remains intact. This ruling is an answer to my prayers for the last two years … many, many meditations and visualizations and I am ready to dance in the streets … uncork that magnum of champagne … and “bathe in the moonlight!”

[Michael laughs.] God bless you! Go bathe in the moonlight!

Only if you come with me.

You do drive a hard bargain! Deal!


Soul's Embrace

Soul’s Embrace

Soul’s Embrace

My heart flies to you to rest upon your breast.

Fleeter than a hummingbird, softer than a dandelion tuft

Yet more sure in flight than a heat seeking missile

I bond with you more tenaciously than a babe at its mother’s breast.

Though my eyes wander, my heart never strays

For you are the milk of my becoming

The marrow from which my platelets are born.

Your song is the beat that pumps my heart

The sighs in my silences are filled with your music

Within your eyes I find a world of vision

Your fragrance inhabits my every breath.

When fear or uncetainty threaten, I run

To crush myself against your breast

And you paint me in vibrant hues

As just another part of you

Only in our Soul’s Embrace am I content

We wander, hand-in-hand

Through heavenly fields of wildflowers

Where desolate, cold winds of winters of separation are forgotten

Resolved in everlasting blossomings of remembrance.

Angry, gray clouds transform into riotous exuberant color

To delight all our senses in waves of splendor

Assaulting the battlements of self-protection

With the battering rams of joy and discovery.

As I discover you

I discover me

There is only WE

And I rest in our Soul’s Embrace.




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