Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for April, 2015

Installment 93

April 15, 2015

Beloved, I know that we have discussed the topic of dreams several times before, but there has been a kinda new wrinkle in this topic for me and I wanted to tell you about it, although I assume you already know. Do you mind terribly if we talk about dreams?

No, not at all. Why … have you been dreaming? [I get a visual image of Michael rocking back and forth on his  heels with his hands behind his back, whistling innocently.]

I knew you already knew about it. Don’t give me that innocent act. Yes, I have had two REAL dreams … both of which involved all my senses visual, auditory, tactile, olfactory. These were real honest-to-goodness dreams … in as many weeks. My regular readers are aware that dreaming is a rather unusual experience for me and they are aware of some of the reasons I have been unable to dream for a major portion of my life. They are also aware that we have been working on this lack since before the trial of Conrad Murray, beginning with visualizing the outcome of the trial working out for everyone’s highest and greatest good and progressing with my afternoon visits to Neverland.

I have had a couple of experiences that I thought were kinda ‘dream-ish,’ but on those occasions, in discussing them with you, we determined that they were visitations and premonitions of immersion in the Oneness from which we all are born into this physical realm of separation and while both were awesome, they did not involve seeing, hearing, feeling, smelling in a physical sense.

Yes, I remember … and what did we say about that?

You told me that labeling these experiences is really irrelevant, that our minds analyze these occurrences in order to evaluate them … or place a value on them … or determine their validity or invalidity, but the heart and soul seeks only to experience them and take joy in them.

Exactly. The value of the experience (by the external world’s measures) is minimal, at best. Regardless of the label you apply … out of body experience, astral travel, creative visualization, dream or *only* imagination … the logical world ignores the experience (and experiencer), at best … or ridicules the experience (and experiencer), at worst. 

Only you can determine the experience’s value to you and assign it validity. In order to do this, you need to experience it fully and openly, with no fear and no preconceived definitions … innocently like a child … and in doing this you can fully appreciate it in joy. Then, resist the mind’s temptation to analyze, dissect, assign value, explain, define, label, stereotype and all the other ways we attempt to dismiss our soul’s promptings. We are very, very good at this.

The only questions that have any relevance in relation to these unexplainable occurrences is: Were you in JOY when you were in the experience? Did that JOY carry over into your physical life? If the answer to both of these questions is, “Yes,” then that is the value of the experience. And let me be absolutely clear about this … there is no greater value in the world than this! This is why we are here to begin with, to experience ourselves as joyful, worthy, fun-loving, playful, beautiful children at play in our sandbox.

So, do you want to tell me about your dreams?

Yes, I would love to. The first one occurred about two weeks ago and I wrote a full account of it in my journal the following day. Not only did I dream, but I remembered the dream in a lot of detail, which, again, is not something to which I am accustomed.

I was hiding in the shadows during the filming of the ‘panther coda’ of the Black or White short film (and it is an interesting sideline that photographs of the panther coda have been posted a LOT since I had this dream). There were a lot of people around … a lot of talking and laughing … everyone was having fun … equipment was being moved from place to place … cameras were whirring … and you were there … very visible (and beautiful, I might add at the risk of embarrassing you.) You were dressed in the black pants, black shirt, white t-shirt, armband, taped fingers, black fedora, locks of hair over your right eye swaying with your movements. There was a very loud fan somewhere, blowing on you to ruffle your shirts … just like in the film. The playback was LOUD and so clear (no transistor radio with one earplug here … we are talking full scale recording studio) … really, really, awesome surround sound system … and I could feel that beat pulsing in my legs and spine. I was hiding so that no one could see me because I was fearful of getting kicked off the set. I just wanted to be near you, so I didn’t want to be discovered, least of all, by you because I was afraid you would be angry with me for invading your filming.

[Michael laughs.] There were always people around during filming. Sometimes, Elizabeth was there. Gregory Peck visited on occasion. Mac’s folks and brother. You shouldn’t have been afraid.

Nevertheless, I was scared to death that you would discover me and have me removed. So, I didn’t move or breathe, hardly … hanging back in the shadows behind all the cameras and speakers and cables running along the floor to power all that equipment. I was kinda afraid to move because those cables were thick and heavy and I was afraid I would trip on one and my jig would be up.

You ran through the entire sequence after which there was a break while the cameras and playback were prepared for another take and you were feeling kinda uncomfortable, I thought, just standing there while all this activity was happening all around you. So, I thought quietly, “Relax, Baby, you are beautiful,” just like I did that February night in 1997 at Elizabeth’s Birthday Gala in support of her AMFAR Foundation. (I remember on that occasion how fidgety you were just sitting there in full view of the audience as they trickled in to find their seats. But after I thought, “Relax, Baby, you are beautiful,” you seemed to relax and sit back against the chair and I wondered, “Did he hear me?”)

Just then, you started looking around to find the source of the thought (or at least that was my interpretation … that you heard or felt my love and encouragement on some level) and you saw me standing there in the shadows.

“Oh, my God, he heard me! Did I say that out loud? Oh, no,” I thought, “he’s seen me. That’s it! I’m dead!”

What? That I was going to have you shot or something? I told you before about my sensitivity to thought and emotional energy. Didn’t you believe me?

No … not shot … just surrounded with maybe six of your beefy bodyguards and carried off, kicking and screaming, no doubt. Of course, I believed you, but it’s one thing to believe something like that and a totally other thing to experience it … to think a thought and have someone look around for the source of that thought is a bit unnerving.

Your thought is energy; your thought of L.O.V.E. is the most powerful and creative energy there is. Nothing can stop it, overtake it, slow it down, cast a shadow on it. It is Invincible. That thought of L.O.V.E. can change the world, as you discovered with our visualizations in the past and as you and your friends are discovering with your new initiative.

Anyway, you started walking toward where I was hiding and I froze. I wanted to run deeper into the shadows or find an escape route, but I was literally frozen in place. I could not move. It was that walk … the slow steps with your hands hovering at your hips and swaying from side to side with every step … usually accompanied by cocky, fluid neck rolls … even your fingers become animated during that walk. Darn thing is a dance all by itself!

[Michael chuckles.]

The thing is none of the other people involved in the filming noticed you walking towards me. How could anyone NOT notice that walk? I mean, it’s classic and breathtaking, frighteningly beautiful! But no one else seemed to notice you walking towards me and, more importantly, they didn’t seem to be able to see me. As you took every step, my heart rose higher and higher in my chest and throat. I was absolutely petrified. However, you didn’t look angry. Your eyes were kind and full of love and curiosity and fully focused on mine, baring me to my soul … and there was a little smile on your lips. My eyes were locked on yours. Your walk seemed to take FOREVER … every step was unconscious grace and determined purpose and you seemed able to avoid tripping hazards from the cables without even being aware of it. It seemed like I was holding my breath, savoring each and every movement of your feet and legs, your hands and fingers, even the way your shirt was blown by the fan.

Oh my, I can still feel it as I am describing it to you, my Anam Cara! Have I told you lately how much I love you and how grateful I am for your presence in my life?

No, but I think I get the drift. After all, you spend every waking moment … and some sleeping moments, apparently … writing to me, writing about me, writing with me, drawing me, painting me. Honestly! You are obsessed! And I am just as obsessed with you. I always love you more.

Anyway, at the end of eternity you reached me and my world turned first black as your shirt came closer and closer … and then white as you gathered me to your chest and your t-shirt completely filled my field of vision. You raised your arms to me, but I still couldn’t move so you closed the gap between us while my heart beat fast enough to choke me. You held me so tenderly. I saw your t-shirt, felt the softness of the Egyptian cotton. I saw little beads of sweat on your neck. I wanted to BE those little beads of sweat! [Michael laughs again.] I smelled your cologne. I felt the firmness, yet gentleness, of your hand as your fingers entwined in the hair at the back of my head, the beat of your heart. I went from petrified to absolute bliss in the space of a heartbeat. All I wanted was to stay there wrapped in your arms forever and ever.

When you released me, you stood staring down into my eyes and your love communicated itself to me as you lifted my chin with your index finger and moved forward to kiss me. Just as our lips were about to touch, I woke up! It was 3:00 AM and I used the restroom and then returned to bed, begging to continue the dream where I had left off … but no such luck. However, the next morning on the way to somewhere with my husband in the car, I remembered this dream in full detail and determined to write it all out in my journal so that I didn’t lose any part of it. The sights, the sounds, the clarity of the playback, your appearance, your tenderness, my fear and my joy are precious to me and not only because this represents the first REAL dream I’ve had in a very, very long time. This is the first Michael dream I’ve ever had.

Do you remember when I told you we would be working on this and that your dreams would return as we progressed?

Yes, I do, Beloved One, very clearly. And that is one of the first thoughts I had upon recalling the dream the following day. “He said we would be working on it together … and here we are.” I do know that I was beginning to give up hope. I mean our original conversation about this topic happened a fairly long time ago … three years, I think … and I was beginning to feel that I was just a person who could not dream.

What’s your hurry? Where’s the fire? You’re right … you have absolutely NO patience. Your world has told you that you need to accomplish daily so when you sit and contemplate your satisfaction with your new art studio, you feel that you haven’t accomplished … and you feel guilty. You have, you know. You’ve accomplished satisfaction and a sense of peace and belonging and total appreciation.

You didn’t put those dream blocks in place  and cement them in securely, I might add, in a day or a week or a month. It took years to become so firmly entranched in … and invested in … being a non-dreamer. It makes perfect sense that they will not dissolve in a day or a week or a month. Just as the Berlin Wall took years to be dismantled, your dream blockers will take a while to become dislodged. [Michael chuckles.]

But can you exlain how this is happening?

Noooo! [Michael laughs out loud.] And there ya go trying to dissect and analyze, again. It doesn’t matter how it is happening. What matters is that IT IS HAPPENING (as I told you it would.) 

I think there are a lot of factors involved in the mechanics of the thing and they are all equally important or equally not important.

If you’ll recall, we started out slowly with visualizations intended to envelope the courthouse in love, but, at the same time, we were also releasing your resentments against Conrad and giving you some peace of mind, returning you to a more positive, less fearful perspective. Which of those two is the important factor? Or are they equally important? 

At the time, you didn’t think you would ever get to the point where visualizing was comfortable and natural for you, but you did. You even employed the very same technique on your own when you cleaned up your art studio … naturally. 

Then, we visualized with the Come Together Initiative … and The Library at Neverland … and Neverland Power Naps during which we discussed so many of the issues that had been holding you back from fully experiencing yourself as the beautiful child you really are, while at the same time, again, releasing resentments and clearing negative outlooks to free you from those burdens so many of us carry around with us for years. Which of those factors is the important one? Or do they go hand-in-hand? Is one more beneficial than the other? Is one possible without the other?

Break of Dawn

Break of Dawn

During this same time frame, you were drawing me and finding joy in your progress and keeping your outlook positive and joyful and your attitude playful. You called it ‘playing around’ and ‘fiddling’ and feeling guilty because you weren’t accomplishing anything. What did I tell you about that? 

That I was developing a new skill set and learning as I was playing. You told me that each drawing or painting was a Conversation … a union … a sacrament that we shared. You told me that you played around all the time in the dance studio and that was how you had become who you are … by playing.

Exactly. In this way, you were becoming re-acquainted with your Inner Child, the one the world had taught you to leave behind so very long ago. You were re-discovering those parts of you that you had lost along the way, just as I did. And because you were ‘in JOY’ while doing all this ‘playing around,’ you had managed to release so many of the resentments and angers and frustrations and ‘poor, poor pitiful me’ feelings that you carried around with you all the time. I mean major things happened during this period of ‘playing around’ that almost totally passed you by. Sneddon died, for heaven’s sake … and you almost didn’t notice. You just let all the anger and frustration and hatred and resentment you held against him go. You just let them go. You didn’t fight against them or push against them or set up wars against them. They just became irrelevant … unimportant … no longer needed.

You discovered that you are not your story … that you are so much more than your story. And that you are given the opportunity to rewrite your story every single moment of every single day.

Did you have any kind of intution about this dream as you remembered it?

Yes, I did. This dream seemed to follow a pattern of waking ‘visions’ that I had had through the years in that I was an observer … a witness … rather than a participator in the action. I seemed to be there to support you … to give you strength and encouragement … to love you through these events. These visions began in 1993 and we have talked about it a lot in previous conversations. For those unfamiliar, I saw you in Bangkok, Thailand, pacing the floor of your hotel room as the story of the first set of allegations broke in the world’s press. I saw your pain, felt your heartbreak … and my heart went out to you to comfort you. I sent my love in prayers and in a seven-word telegram.

The second happened in November 2013 during a meditation while I was laid up with a respiratory infection and ‘playing around’ with some of the concepts featured in the books I was reading (like time being flexible and virtual reality). I saw you in the early morning hours during the trial in 2005. Karen and Bush had arrived to help you prepare for the grueling day ahead and you had fallen to the floor in major distress, repeating, “I can’t do this. I can’t do this.” You all knelt in the guest cottage at Neverland … and I joined you on the floor holding you close … to pray that you would have the strength to show up with dignity. I joined you in those prayers and held you in love. Afterwards, I wrote an essay entitled “In Service to the King” about this vision.

The third occurred during another meditation at around the same time. I was in the room during the photo session at Neverland in 1993, my eyes locked on yours through the entirety of the vision and beaming you love, repeating over and over, “You are not humiliated. You are beautiful and strong and innocent. It is they who humiliate themselves with their callous disregard for your humanity.” I don’t believe I ever wrote about that vision but it, like all the others, was very real. Although terribly distressing, I was and am grateful and honored to have been there to witness and lift you up through a few of the horrors you experienced among us.

In all of these occurrences, it appeared to me that I was there as a witness to lend you strength and to hold you in love. This dream seems to be a continuation of the series of visions. I remember the flap over the ‘panther coda’ so clearly and the misrepresentation you endured and, once again, my role seems to be as a witness and, in this case, to give you my love firsthand, in a way. I feel so blessed and honored to have been a witness to these events.

Yes, I see. These were moments when I drew on your love (all of you) to help me cope and survive the trauma to my soul. That’s an interesting interpretation to put on them. 

Do you remember your first monthly prayer vigil on my behalf?

Yes, indeed, very clearly. It was June of 2010, I think. I had cut out little slips of paper on which I had written brief summaries of events that had, in my opinion, caused your soul trauma and anguish. I tried to meditate or pray for about 20 minutes on those events and then, I burned the slip of paper I had chosen that day for my vigil. It was my attempt to validate you and help heal those wounds.

Yes. Do you think these events were represented in those intentions and slips of paper?

I’d be very, very surprised if they weren’t, Michael. Wow! That’s a connection I hadn’t made.

Star Secret Friend

Star Secret Friend

That is very, very interesting. You asked to be allowed to be with me with your love … to have me be aware somehow that your love was present to help me heal these wounds in your prayer vigil. And one by one these events are being shown to you because you are open and available to them. It doesn’t matter HOW it is occurring. The fact is that it IS occurring and you are witnessing how the love energy of all of you was sensed by the physical as well as the non-physical Michael Jackson. “Fascinating,” as Spock would say.

That is an amazing connection that I had never, ever imagined. Thank you, Beloved … food for thought!

Now, you said you had two dreams. Do you want to tell me about the second?

Absolutely! This one was not as detailed, but it was still visual and auditory … and it happened just last night (April 15, 2015). I was, apparently, looking at houses, for some reason. I say it that way because I have always sworn that I would never move again. My intention is to die in this house and let my kids clean it up … hehehe … serves them right. I truly abhor moving; nonetheless I was looking at houses.

Anyway, the house I was looking at in this dream was your house on the grounds of Neverland in which you kept all your awards and all the gifts from the fans that you collected throughout the years of your career. It was like a 3-bedroom, single story house … and it was just packed to the gills … in every room … every nook and cranny and closet … with STUFF! Your awards hung all over the walls and were scattered on tables and shelves throughout the space and there were boxes of gifts, cards, letters, photographs, drawings, paintings, scrapbooks, stuffed animals everywhere (under tables, in closets, lining the floors, on shelves). And there were little paths like forest trails leading from one room to the other to protect these items that you had saved up for all the years of your career. Baskets, bins, boxes, shelves, tables, walls teaming with STUFF! There were Michael Jackson marionettes hanging from tall shelving units by their crossbars and strings (at least one in your Billie Jean outfit, like mine … I know where that one came from). There were mannequins standing at the windows in police uniforms.

[Michael laughs.] I had some of those!

I know! I could hear soft music playing from outside as I tried to make my way through the paths that had been laid out through all the boxes. And I was able to reach out and explore individual items (like an antique shopping expedition with my husband). It was awesome to witness all the love that was housed in that building! I felt the care that went into the crafting of some of those items when I would hold them in my hands; the energy of that would wash over me when I touched them. I recalled the time and effort so many of your fans would put into the gifts to please you and your joy in discovering that and holding it in your hands.

See? Thought energy … L.O.V.E energy! There’s nothing like it. All you have to do is be open to it and it will rush through you like a tidal wave.

You were not present physically in this dream, but the feeling was that I had been invited, that you welcomed my presence and exploration, and that you could walk through the door at any moment. So, the emotions were joy to be allowed to see this, excitement, a feeling of being a very special guest (because I know that you did not show this house to just anybody) and anticipation of your arrival. It was not a long dream, but any dream to me is a special occasion. This one is no exception.

And, again, did you have any kind of intuition about this dream?

Yes, like the dream and visions before, it seemed that I was there to witness and to re-affirm in my own mind your words about L.O.V.E. being an energy that we can manipulate in prayer or meditation, in art or in writing, in song or in dance or just by living artfully and with mindfulness.

Good. Always pay attention to what your intuition tells you about these events. Often, if you are aware of your intuition, you can save yourself a lot of time and energy in analysis, dissection, and applying labels and values to them. Your heart knows their value to you; no other is relevant.

God bless you. I love you.

I love you M.O.R.E.

 

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: