Joining the Millions

I join the millions in grieving the loss of Michael Jackson. But I also somehow differentiate myself from some of my acquaintances who cannot position themselves alongside me in grief. These are people who tend to address the failings of human beings, recognizing that many situations are the result of past mistakes, and focusing on those mistakes as the contributing force in the superstar's demise. In contrast, I cannot unilaterally subscribe to the idea that judgment is discriminating and that we are the judges. A peripheral glance at the life of Michael Jackson reveals a tortured and confused soul whose appearance masked the despair within. As he removed pieces of himself, perhaps in an effort to lose his identity, he somehow lost much of the essence of his own success and his own goodness.

Yet I have always marveled at the talent and gifts of Michael Jackson, whose career spanned decades, a man whose voice, music, and dancing charmed millions. A man whose success far surpassed his ability to manage himself, and a man whose enormous heart danced openly for others to impair and ultimately destroy. The tragedy is on several levels which I intend to articulate.

His was the tragedy of self-mutilation. How could someone hate himself so much as to systematically remove his nose, alter his cheekbones, add to his pigment alteration, adjust his hair, and prevent his own voice from changing. Was this due to abuse as a child in some form? Was this his way to hide from himself? Self-loathing leads to self-destruction. Was he afraid of aging or did he hasten his own death? His appearance became that of a caricature or an ersatz of pretension. He denied his inner self and manifested it outwardly.

His was the tragedy of money. When zillions of dollars begin flowing, the responsibility should increase. For Michael Jackson, however, the responsibility diminished almost in proportion to the growth of the estate. He spent, he gave, he squandered, he helped, he took, he produced, and he lost. His giving to charities and helping children, his remarkable generosity and genuine compassion has been forgotten and replaced with an onslaught of criticism and greed. Not only did the money not buy happiness, it guaranteed corruption by many people.

His was the tragedy of talent and success. He was so wildly successful at a young age and continued the climb to the top of the entertainment business. But did he ever gain the maturity needed to handle the success? Was he ever really a child or did he miss an important step in becoming an adult? Did he ever get to play, skin his knee, throw a ball, read a Dr. Seuss story, collect baseball cards, play tag, or watch Gilligan's Island? His success undermined and interfered with the maturation process. It created a man who wanted to be a child. The report of listening to classical music while reading Donald Duck comics is a prime example of the dichotomy within him.

His was the tragedy of entourage. The endless hyenas that surrounded him, feasting on his very soul at every opportunity. Erratic and insane buzzards that couldn't wait for the corpse and hastened his demise in a feeding frenzy that took place over many years. His need for bodyguards, doctors, advisors, publicists, managers, helpers, friends, all created a constant sense of humans not leaving him alone. He never had space and he never had a chance to be himself.

His was the tragedy of expectation. As a performer, I have experienced the pressure to be better than last time. It can be debilitating, causing sleepless nights, excessive stress, and the desire to escape or run away from the next event. Jackson had trouble dealing with the next step, the next performance, the next song, and the next expectation of excellence. As a people pleaser, someone who attempts to reach all kinds of people, he could never be satisfied with himself. He probably felt inadequate to the task before him.

His was the tragedy of the soul. The soul is who we are as human beings. The soul is not formed from money, fame, relationships, actions, talent, work, or responses. All of these things grow out of the soul of the person not the inverse. A person's soul may determine the reactions of the person but the events of life cannot and should determine the inner being. Yet what if in fact the soul is altered over a period of time or what if in fact the soul is never formed? In Michael Jackson's case, it seems that the tragedy is one of his inner being. I think I do believe in his goodness and his generosity and the qualities that only occasionally found their way into the world, but I also believe that somehow, someway he lost his soul in the journey. Perhaps this is the saddest event of all. Still, he is missed by me and countless others.