Compassion for Michael Jackson

When I heard the first news report that Michael Jackson had been taken to the hospital and was not breathing at the time, without thinking, I began quietly reciting the Baha’i prayer for the Departed. These are the words of the prayer: “O my God! O Thou forgiver of sins, bestower of gifts, dispeller of afflictions!
Verily, I beseech Thee to forgive the sins of such as have abandoned the physical garment and have ascended to the spiritual world.
O my Lord! Purify them from trespasses, dispel their sorrows, and change their darkness into light. Cause them to enter the garden of happiness, cleanse them with the most pure water, and grant them to behold Thy splendors on the loftiest mount.”
I was not a big fan of Michael Jackson. As a woman in my mid-fifties, I can say that he was not an icon of my generation. His early days as a winning young singer with the Jackson 5 are more memorable to me than his later work. Yet yesterday I felt a great compassion for him.
I have been thinking about our fascination with media idols. What is an idol except a person, an individual with his or her own unique blend of talents, strengths and weaknesses? When a person shares their gifts with us in a way that moves and inspires us, what is the appropriate response? After they have given us this gift, do we have any ethical or moral responsibility towards them? Can media focus and public acclaim push a person to a point where he or she can no longer be comfortable in his or her own skin? I think so. This is not to say that performers do not seek the spotlight. To be sure, they must. But do we, the public and the media, bear responsibility for what the spotlight of public life has become? Public figures seem to be playthings, beyond the norms of decent respect and normal understanding of what it means to be a human being. We expect them to be outrageous, and ourselves to be able to gawk, villify or deify at will. To what extent is the superstar we see someone who we have created? What internal conflict an icon must feel! In my mind, I keep returning to the point of view that we do have a responsibility to see every person as a person, even the famous. We can acclaim and acknowledge a person’s gifts and talents without robbing them of their basic humanity. Perhaps we have a duty to speak out against the press and publicists treating the famous as playthings. I’m sure the story of Michael Jackson’s life and death is not a simple one. But this simple idea occurred to me – perhaps his heart gave out just before his planned tour because he was ill and tired, and, in his heart, he simply wanted to be a person, after all.

Empty Nest

My house will soon be a big empty nest.  My children will be 1800 and 3000 miles away.  What to do?

My daughter has been gone for a month already, and sometimes it feels as though I have a literal hole in the side of my body.  Something is missing. I ache! Then myy mind kicks in and reminds me that she is safe, she is working hard on projects that are important to her and I can talk to her on the cell almost any time.

Yet, there is a helpless feeling – a useless feeling when the child (now grown, of course) that you nurtured, enjoyed, planned for and worried over for so long, is far away and doing his/her own thing, largely without any help needed from you.

I told someone that I was managing by keeping busy.  She commented that I might be avoiding the inevitable grieving.  I don’t really think so.  I am keeping busy with my projects – the ones that mean a lot to me – the ones I plan to develop and work on from now until I’m too feeble to do so.  A long time, I expect.  I need my work, and I punctuate my grieving with it.  Yes, I weep or feel my eyes fill from time to time.  I think about the past and the future.  My connection with my children is woven in time and will continue.  For the present, I am also weaving a fabric that is my connection to other parts of the world, parts that don’t depend on my lovely children being present.

Baha’i

Belonging to the Baha’i Faith is central to my life and everything I do.  My world view derives from it, and it gives me comfort and optimism.

Hello

this is a test blog.  My hope is that women in recovery can use a tool like this to communicate with each other and to learn skills that will benefit them.