One Man's Soul

I heard the news in a hospital room, while holding my newborn cousin for the first time: Michael Jackson, regarded by many as the greatest entertainer of our time, is dead at 50 years old.

I am in shock, along with the rest of the world. Michael was an icon, an untouchable, larger than life. His persona seemed to be based on an energy beyond that of a normal human being, and his music touched people in ways usually attributed to transcendental spiritual experiences. People have been known to faint in his presence. He was the first and only of his kind. He was Michael Jackson.

The swell of emotions we are collectively experiencing reflects the sense of awe that Michael inspired. We are mournful - between his music and the media's obsession, it seems as if we knew him. We are celebrating - a giant has walked in our midst. We are still, both to honor his memory and embrace our confusion - what now? What will we do without him?

But if we are honest, we will realize that we all knew long before now that Michael was mortal.

The last few years of Jackson's life were plagued with controversy, and even at peak fame he was regarded as a bit of an odd bird. From pet chimps and back yard Ferris wheels to horrifying accusations of sexual crimes against children, Michael Jackson held rank as possibly the weirdest super-celebrity of our time. Record sales dropped, tabloids pounced, comedians made jokes and we all laughed, but inside, we were a little sad. Here was a man who was a genius among his peers, yet so deeply disturbed that it seemed he would never enjoy a normal life. Poor Michael.

His death raises important questions about legacy, redemption and reconciliation. I wonder if he had a moment to forgive those that hurt him, to repent for wrongs committed, to let his demons go. I wonder if he was at peace when he passed, if he felt he had lived his best life. Did the good outweigh the bad? How will we remember him, and who was he, really?

We'll never know, but I'll pray for his spirit to rest in harmony with the divine. What I do know is that the impact he had cannot be snuffed out as easily as the frail human form; his legacy is forever etched on the walls of our social structure.

In all the fun-making and lamentation over Michael during the past decade or so, we forgot that he actually made very significant contributions to our culture. He broke down barriers, internal and external, with beats and lyrics. Pop chart-toppers like "Thriller" and "Bad" busted through MTV's obvious color code. Social harmonizers such as "We are the World" brought us together in grand Kumbaya style. And heart prickers like "Man in the Mirror," "Have you seen my childhood?" and "Will you be there?" exposed the complexities of human emotion, begging us to look inside his soul as well as our own.

If we are honest, the view was muddy. And beautiful.


Rest in peace Michael.
June 25, 2009, The Day the Music Died