tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90905457842438478832024-02-19T16:11:18.134-07:00Michael's Symphony of LoveEach of the beautiful notes in Michael's Symphony has their own unique note to play and an equally unique story of how they were awakened to the Symphony. This is a place to share those stories.MJEverAfterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05115444869662787656noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9090545784243847883.post-42287086409893266452014-01-24T20:30:00.000-07:002014-01-24T20:30:52.229-07:00How I Became a Fan - Mariam Shahzad<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f3f3f3;">I remember <strong><em>Thriller</em></strong> to be the first MJ song that I lent an ear to. And I loved it. My mother kept scaring me that I wouldn't be able to sit through the video. It was the early 2000's. I was either 6 or 7. These were the good days - when families spent time together, we traveled frequently and everything was perfect where it was.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f3f3f3;"> Then, dad bought a computer for me when I was 10 in 2005. To get everything started my uncle got a CD of All-Time MJ hits. I remember dancing around to <strong><em>Billie Jean, They Don’t Care about Us, You Rock My World, Black or White, Smooth Criminal, Jam, Heal the World, Tabloid Junkie</em></strong> and <strong><em>Blood on the Dance floor</em></strong>. I wasn't old enough to understand the lyrics hence his message but, boy, I loved his voice. His music was unique. I remember concluding that he was a league apart from other musicians. But just how much accurate I was in making that judgment had yet to dawn on me.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f3f3f3;"> I remember seeing a lot of his photos in the newspapers. Luckily no tabloids reached my home so I was a safe distance away from all the garbage printed about him. The youngest I had seen him was from <strong><em>Billie Jean</em></strong> and the oldest from <strong><em>You Rock My World</em></strong>. But I didn't compare his photographs at all. I thought he was cute whatever way he was. I didn't divide his lifetime into different "eras." I never thought he was weird. I didn't deem his appearance as impossible. The most I ever thought about his face was <strong><em>"how could he possibly pick his nose?" </em></strong>But when I concluded he must have used ear buds, it was case closed.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f3f3f3;"> Maybe it was the innocence I possessed being a child. When the simplest definitions and answers seem the best ones. Or my lack of interest in the development of popular culture. I never wondered about <strong><em>Michael Jackson: The Caricature</em></strong> brought by the media. All I knew was <strong><em>Michael Jackson: The Singer and Dancer</em></strong>.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f3f3f3;"> Come 2005, come the dreadful trial. I was 10 years old, too preoccupied with school and friends and dolls and family to understand that my future idol's world had just crashed upon his head. I was unaware. I now remember seeing a lot of his photos in a handsome suit that I used to cut out from the newspapers. But I never read any of the wildly exaggerated stories and filthy lies written next to them. My image of him was still the same. He was the King of Pop to me. Just a favorite singer. Since I didn't really listen to any other songs, I grew up with only his voice and dance moves.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f3f3f3;"> In 2008, I read a snippet in the corner of a newspaper that the King of Pop had turned 50 like some of his contemporaries. That he was going celebrate it quietly with his children and have a little cake.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f3f3f3;"> That was the first time I got to know that he too had a family. I had never wondered about his personal life. Not because I thought he was weird or uninteresting but because I was just too preoccupied. And because I respect privacy in general. I did not know that he was hounded everywhere he went. That he was probably the most famous man on earth. I did not know of his horrible childhood, his troubled adolescence, his marriages, his friends, his children, his fans, his knowledge of just about everything or why he wore a mask. I did not know that he was a sensitive soul. I never really took out time to get a chance to discover him.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f3f3f3;"> It was the morning of 25th June in Pakistan. I was in the beautiful city of Islamabad in my Grandma's homes' basement. It was around 12 or 1 in the morning. I was curled up on the sofa reading Eclipse - no wonder I hate the book so much that I want to burn it. Now, my elder sister turned the TV on. She casually flipped through the channels. Suddenly, she yelled out loud.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f3f3f3;"> "Michael Jackson is dead!"</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f3f3f3;"> I lowered my book. And sure as sure can be, that's what the strip at the bottom of CNN read like. I sat up straighter unable to understand why the death of someone I was relatively indifferent to, was having such an effect on me. Everybody came downstairs and for the rest of the day we all sat glued as if we had lost a family member. The headlines flashed again and again. His face was plastered across all the channels. It was everywhere. <strong><em>EVERYWHERE.</em></strong> Fucking everywhere. Every broadcast was halted and it was him everywhere. And I sat through it in a kind of daze that is still unexplainable to me.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f3f3f3;"> After a whole day of the word "death" attached with this man, something in me gave way to tears. I hate letting people see me weak, vulnerable or at my worse. So I rushed upstairs to the second floor and locked myself in the bathroom. Everybody was still watching TV. That's when the tears came. Quite freely, too. I cried like a child. I cast aside all emotional barriers and wept. Quite literally, wept. Only when the tears refused to come out anymore, did I wipe my face and waited for the red blotches to go away before I went down again.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f3f3f3;"> The news was still everywhere. And it was still a huge blow. I saw people of all ages, genders, races, faces, colors and whatnot cry at the loss of their idol. It didn't matter who you were, he had touched every life on this planet. This effect he held blew me away. It was as if the heavens had decided that I was going to love this man.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f3f3f3;"> Next, I started reading up on him. I made friends with his fans. I listened to more of him. I tried to understand him. Slowly, I started grasping the facts about him. And I kept falling deeper and deeper into love with him. Now I am a proud, certified fan. And it still surprises me, how I have yet to know more about him. It’s like an unquenchable thirst. I just can’t get enough of him.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f3f3f3;"> But he isn't here. And that bites away at my heart. The fact that I can't tell him face-to-face about how much I love him frustrates me. But what I do know is that he is at a better place. And for the time being, that is enough for me.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f3f3f3;"> I love you, Michael. If only you knew.</span></div>
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MJEverAfterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05115444869662787656noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9090545784243847883.post-46487991812190334762013-07-30T09:09:00.000-06:002013-07-30T09:09:10.034-06:00My Dancing Machine - Marion Bowen<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: small;">My lightnbolt experience with Michael started way back when I was a child. I can honestly say I didn't realize what it was then. But as an adult and since he's left this earth, I can say it truly was just that... the spiritual experience whereby my little soul recognized that amazing spirit of light inside this cute boy singing through my tv.</span></span></h2>
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<span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">This all is started with Soul Train, the highlight of my Saturday. Not cartoons, but American Bandstand and Soul Train were my Saturday joys. Don't get me wrong, I liked cartoons and still do. But it was all about the fashion, the music and the dancing for me. And I had the whole living room area to do my dance moves; the couch and the chairs were my witnesses. One day during Soul Train, Don Cornelius announced, "Next week's guests will be the Jackson 5." Woooohoooo! I could not wait until that next Saturday. That week seemed to go by so slowly, even slower than a week at elementary school usually does. When Saturday arrived, I did my usual dancing to all the songs on Soul Train while waiting for the musical guests, the Jackson 5. I was pretty excited to see them cause the song they had out on the radio was pretty good. I really digged it. </span></span></div>
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<span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span>I can't remember the actual introduction Don gave them but I think he said something like, "singing their hit Dancing Machine, the Jackson 5." YaY! I gave them my own standing ovation right there in my living room. There was no dancing during the performance just observation. They were perfect; it sounded just like it did on the radio. And their dance moves were </span><em><span>smooth.</span></em><span> Then, right at the little breakdown part of the song, Michael slips from behind the row of microphones where him Jackie and Marlon had just belted out some lyrics and did the most incredible edible dance moves! I had never seen anything like that in my life! What was it? It seemed to last forever and in my mind it was done in slow motion. </span></span></span></div>
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<span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><em><span>And THAT was the moment that something happened.</span></em><span> </span></span></span></div>
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<span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">It hard to explain from a child angle but I can close my eyes and still see it and feel it. The feeling was overwhelming. It was like a feeling of you knowing someone but just really seeing them for the first time. It was a hello, where have you been? It was like a cool breeze on a hot day. But at the same time, it was summertime with winter all around you. Yes, the feeling was magical and it was strong. I thought it was just me really really really wanting to have this song. I had to have it. I don't recall what happened after Michael did that dance, which I found out later at school was called the Robot. I had to release this energy, this feeling I had. I had to have this record. I remember running into the bedroom and shouting to my mother with tears in my eyes that I had to get that song Dancing Machine …the Jackson 5 sung it on Soul Train… Michael did the robot… and I had to get it NOW. I rambled all that out in one sentence. My mother looked at me like I had lost my mind. She was like, "I'm not going to go get no record I don’t care who sings what, right now." Is she serious? Does she know what just happened? I mean Michael Jackson just did the Robot and everything! I begged and pleaded but it did not do any good. I walked away quite sad. Knowing me back then, a temper tantrum probably ensued. Man, if only I had a car and was old enough to drive.</span></span></div>
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<span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">My mom did eventually take me downtown to get the 45 rpm of Dancing Machine. I played that song incisively on my little record player. I even took the record to school for record day in music class. My little Dancing Machine, that’s what I called him. Michael Jackson, my little Dancing Machine. I will never forget that feeling.</span></span></div>
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MJEverAfterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05115444869662787656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9090545784243847883.post-59494131853812120442012-09-26T18:55:00.000-06:002012-09-26T18:57:48.924-06:00Be Like Mike - Bridget Moore Rowley<br />
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<span class="userContent"><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I was such a cliché really….I know that now….like far too many others, I took Michael Jackson and his Genius for granted while he was among the living…you see, I was born in 1958 like Mike….I’m a few months older actually and had recently turned 51 when he died just short of the same age…the reason this is important to my story is that Michael was on Earth pretty much exactly the same time I have been…but the impact of this fact wouldn’t become significant to me until a full half century later.<br />When I was 10, I was just a little white girl from a tiny town on the coast of Washington State and as about as far away from Gary, Indiana and Motown and the life that a little 10 year old black boy name Michael Jackson was living as I possibly could have been…but I remember dancing my little socks off at a slumber party with my girlfriends, as we alternated playing “ABC” by The Jackson 5 and “One Bad Apple” by The Osmonds over and over and over again, until we literally dropped from exhaustion…and when we woke up, as the sunlight streamed through the windows, we ate a big breakfast and started in all over again…yes, Michael found me for awhile back then….but then I lost him until I went to college during the late 70’s, which I fondly remember as the height of the Disco Era…”Off the Wall” hit me hard and “Thriller” followed…I was still very impressed with him, but by then I was getting married and starting a family…somehow the rest of his albums sort of fell off my radar as my five children were born during those 14 years…and that’s when, unbeknownst to me, I became the Classic Michael Jackson Cliché…I lost him….I bought into whatever the Media spoon fed me about his eccentricities and even supposed “crimes”….I laughed at the awful Jacko jokes…I cringed at the unflattering photos of his plastic surgery gone awry…I remember standing in front of my TV, watching him as he turned himself into the police in Santa Barbara, so certain that he just HAD to be guilty….and how sickening it made me feel that this musical phenomenon had become such a caricature of his former great self…I can now see what that makes me…but then? I didn’t have a clue.<br />Fast forward to June 25, 2009….I hear The News…I am gobstruck!….literally SHOCKED at how hard it hits me….I remember saying to several people, “It feels so weird to be living in a Michael Jackson-less world”…and the cliché continues…I start in with the YouTubing (which, by the way, was a first for me)…I soon become an expert at that and Googling and hunting down every other website I could get my hands on, as I find myself more and more drawn to Everything Michael….more and more surprised at what I’m finding out about him…The Real Michael Jackson….and what I was finding out about myself….I had opened a door.<br />July 7, 2009….Michael’s Memorial…by then, it was a foregone conclusion that I would be planted in front of my set…unfortunately made possible by the fact that I was in the middle of a six-month layoff from my job at the time….but it was a vulnerable time for me, as I didn’t realize then that I would later be asked back to my job…perhaps that was a factor in what was happening to me…my personal life was not in a good space…not only didn’t I know the answers to what was wrong in my life, I didn’t even really know the questions…but somehow, Michael had found me again…still, I had no idea what was about to transpire…as I watched his service, I wept openly…I cried not only for him…I cried for me….I realized what an awful person I had been…I was utterly ashamed of myself….but I began to let Michael’s beauty and love pour over me….unsure of what it all would come to mean to me, I boldly walk through that door I’d opened the day he died.<br />November 1, 2009…the day I saw the film, “This Is It”, for the first time…it had been a few months since Michael’s death, but in the interim, my zeal to keep this warm, fuzzy feeling in my heart alive hadn’t waned one bit…but nothing, NOTHING prepared me for how this film would impact my life…ten minutes in, one hand jumped up to my heart as the other was left to wipe away the tears…and there they stayed for the duration of the film…as I left the theatre, I felt like my DNA had been changed…I was not the same person that had walked into that theatre a couple of hours earlier….that door I had walked through in July? It slammed shut behind me and I never intend to look back…<br /><br />There was a sense of hope renewed in my soul. I felt blessed. I felt like I had witnessed not only genius, but a vision of humanity I’d never seen before. In a word, I felt happy…for the first time in a long time, I felt contentment….as I watched his life and talent celebrated, I no longer mourned him. Instead, I felt called by him…I felt Chosen. But what does a person who feels Chosen by Michael do? I still had no clue what was to come.<br />The holidays were fast approaching. My family asked me what I wanted for Christmas…all I asked for were things related to Michael….books, CD’s, DVD’s….my oldest daughter gave me this beautiful cloth covered box that just happened to be the perfect size to house the gifts I’d received….it wasn’t intentional…but the cloth on the box was Black and White.<br />But before all that, in mid-December, something really unusual happened to me. I was in a bookstore…perusing their collection of MJ books, I’m sure…as I walked out of the store, I was instantly panhandled by a homeless person…as was my normal practice, I’m ashamed to admit, I really didn’t even consider for a moment to stop and give him something….I started walking down the sidewalk and as crazy as I know this will make me seem....as clear as a bell, I heard Michael’s voice in my head…he said, “Stop! Go Back! Give him something!”…I froze in my steps, dumbfounded by what was occurring…these things just don’t happen to me! I shook my head and opened my wallet…there was a ten dollar bill and two ones…but money is always tight for me…Christmas was coming and I have a big family for whom to pull Christmas together…I kept walking….about ten feet later, again I hear Michael’s voice in my head…it is louder, more insistent, more demanding, “Stop! Go Back! He has nothing! You have so much more than him!”…I spun around, feeling almost a pushing sensation at the small of my back…I thought to myself, “OK, I’ll give him the two dollars then and keep the ten for my own needs”…but as I approached the man, I really saw him for the first time…he wasn’t all that old…maybe 30…yet he looked so far gone….not high or drunk….just hopeless….I came right up to him and before I knew it, I said, “Merry Christmas…from Michael Jackson!” and I dumped the contents of my wallet into his hands…the entire $12 and all the change too!<br />The man looked down at the money in his hands and I could see him processing what I’d just said….he then looked back up at me and our eyes met…if you could have seen the look he gave me….he knew…he knew what I meant…he then gave me the biggest smile and wished me a Merry Christmas, thanking me profusely…as I walked away, to be perfectly honest, it felt like my feet weren’t even touching the ground….and it was probably the best feeling I had that entire Christmas season.<br />I now realized that this is what it meant to be “chosen” by Michael….it meant that I was to look for ways to positively impact others…even in the smallest of ways….but as often as I can…but how does that really happen? Well, to start, I just try to be more intentional. I try to consciously think of ways to find what I call my Michael Moments…for instance, when I’m checking out at the grocery store and am asked if I want to add an extra buck to my bill for a charity, I always say yes and I write Michael’s name, not mine, on the little sign they put up…for I realized that in performing my Daily Acts of Kindness in Michael’s name, I am not only atoning for my previous judgments of him and but I can incrementally help vindicate his name, which was so completely and unfairly maligned by the Media, The World and formerly, myself…I now stop at the end of off ramps and pull out a buck for the Sign People…always with a smile…always invoking Michael’s name as I do…it is such a beautiful feeling and so much more valuable to me than whatever dollar amount I’m giving away…And at the entrance of my church, there is a book that anyone can sign with a name of a person for whom you’d like prayers to be said, which is brought forward to the altar later during the Mass and offered to God…the priest says a prayer over the book on behalf of the entire parish and we all pray for everyone in that book…so I sign Michael’s name in it every week….my parish has no clue they are collectively praying for Michael Jackson and it’s the best part of my week!<br /><br />I believe with all my heart that Michael Jackson was not only a beautiful gift from God, but perhaps a messenger from Him, as well….God imbued Michael with more talent, compassion and love than perhaps anyone before or after him….and placed him in the world at the perfect time when technology could impact the globe like never before….and there was a reason for this…I believe that Michael’s life was meant to grab our attention…to show, by the example that Michael always tried to set, the heights of humanity and in Michael’s persecution by his fellow man, the depths of inhumanity….I believe Michael Jackson truly was a musical prophet…we must learn the lessons of his life, apply them to our own and like him, always strive to become the best we can possibly be…to pursue excellence…to work hard….to appreciate family and friends….to be non-judgmental….or in other words…. to Be Like Mike.<br /><br />Aug. 31, 2010</span></span></div>
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MJEverAfterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05115444869662787656noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9090545784243847883.post-66183026867233309132011-10-17T19:14:00.002-06:002011-10-17T22:20:14.603-06:00Michael Connection.... - Heaven Leigh<div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZHr0CKt1Fn76JqXVDAgOA8ulNRUkt5TIbIXDMS4eau8w7tZiMqMVjU3nciOcat7k4D_FkMMezK8G1fNZYPPiE9ixZvHhemEcHbS48rQONf8VBYWgCTFsmhSrhhyphenhyphengCzJiWtcpdjAk7aB5Q/s1600/amichaelkeepthefaith.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZHr0CKt1Fn76JqXVDAgOA8ulNRUkt5TIbIXDMS4eau8w7tZiMqMVjU3nciOcat7k4D_FkMMezK8G1fNZYPPiE9ixZvHhemEcHbS48rQONf8VBYWgCTFsmhSrhhyphenhyphengCzJiWtcpdjAk7aB5Q/s320/amichaelkeepthefaith.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Recently a wise advisor was reading my chakras and said, “Your throat chakra is showing that you are not using your voice as you need to. That’s very odd because you are a writer. Do you know what that could possibly mean?” I have pondered his words for months. I haven’t told the following to anyone but my daughter, so I pray this is how I am meant to use my voice. I hope that anyone else who needs to open and let her/his voice flow will be inspired to do so…<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">My connection to Michael helped to create the need inside of me to share a message that is the opposite of what I grew up believing. The message is that the traditional concepts of God (as the easily angered judge of mankind) are untrue. My writings are in harmony with and expansions of Michael’s poem entitled “God” from his “Dancing the Dream” book. My first book on this subject is “Nina’s Story: The Crimson Flowers.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I have loved Michael’s music throughout his career, but did not give much conscious thought to his spirit, his being and his heart. So many of his songs that I didn’t even know existed, seem now to contain messages from the universe. They call to me, often screaming, “Why didn’t you hear this before?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">In March of 2003 I had just recently moved back to Colorado. We had a record-breaking snowfall that literally trapped us inside for a while. The flimsy snow shovel we had was practically useless. Influenced greatly by the blizzard and its long lasting effects, I fell into a deep depression mode that lasted months, years—and hasn’t totally left me. I am no stranger to depression, struggling with it all my life, even as a small child. There are more similarities to Michael’s childhood than are possible for me to mention here. I will focus on the similarities in religious upbringing, because that seems to be where our spirits collided to produce a story. Inside my depression, a strong voice kept telling me to write a book. I had no idea who the voice belonged to, but I took it to be a loving voice forcefully pushing me to get up and do this. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Within a year I reconnected with Dawn, a childhood friend who opened my mind to The Law of Attraction thinking. Soon after our reunion meeting she was diagnosed with breast cancer and she passed in September of 2006. I didn’t discuss my “voice” with her, but I did talk to her of connecting with me from the other side. She promised she’d find a way to do this, and she did. It would take too long to describe all of the ways. The most outstanding way was to turn my TV on. When my son began getting scared by this, I asked her to stop and she did. One time on a trip with my daughter, this happened in the hotel room. The TV turned on while I was sleeping. I checked to see if the remote was on the bed and I could have rolled over on it. It was on the night stand and my daughter was in the shower. No one else was in the room. I knew it was Dawn. She had found a way to say this fun “Hello” again without startling my young son. Though I am sad that I can’t see her in this life or talk to her on the phone anymore, I am excited that she can keep her promise to continue communicating.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">On May 10 of 2007, I finally started writing the book I had thought about for years. It was to be a story of my experiences in my childhood church, a church that taught God as someone fearsome, vindictive and hungry for worship. This ogre of a “God” commanded very strict adherence to myriads of rules. There would be banishment for the “disobedient” human. I was told by the church leaders that theirs was the ONLY true church. I didn’t even realize that other churches were claiming the same thing. This church was my world. It took years to break free of the self-defeating, humiliation that this church had taught. I was in my mid-30’s when I finally did. Women and children especially, were emotionally and physically abused by the patriarchal culture of the church. The main goal regarding children (preached throughout my childhood) was the need to “break their spirits.” Many attempts were made to break my spirit. In some ways they seem to have succeeded, but I think I still retained enough spirit to finally escape and help others.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I had to write about my slow evolution from seeing God as scary to feeling that we are all part of a loving Spirit force. Soon after beginning the book, I started meeting with a spiritual guide. I had never done this before, and it was fascinating to me. She told me that I had (as we all do) thousands of beings of light surrounding me. It was during a guided meditation later that year (2007) that I saw this huge brilliant angel of light by the door of the room (there were a few other people in the meditation group). I told the spiritual guide what I saw and she said, “Oh, yes—that’s my angel—he’s really big—his name is Arnie.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I told her, “No, this is a different one. He’s telling me that his name is Michael.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I didn’t connect this name to Michael Jackson whatsoever at the time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I had a vision that evening that a bright angel named Michael (I couldn’t distinguish any facial features) was leading me to my grandmother. The path was a gradually ascending series of dark wooden steps embedded into the ground. The angel held my hand as we walked, led me to a Native American type of structure—and there my grandmother greeted me and took my hand. My grandmother is not Native American, so I didn’t understand those symbols at the time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Later, that same year (2007) I believe it was in October, I had one of the clearest dreams I’ve ever had. It was Michael Jackson, in human form (as he was then) in a house with a dark wood interior. He was speaking to me near a stairway and I remember standing on a stairway with a dark wooden bannister. I was on the last step and Michael was standing on the floor by the stairway. Paris was behind him, and spoke pleadingly with me after Michael spoke. I don’t know how to interpret to you what they were asking, so I will leave that for another time, but I remember awaking without answering his question in my dream.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I didn’t connect this dream to the “Michael angel” vision. I just remember thinking and thinking about his question and Paris’ pleading. I felt so much love toward him—and her, but I was confused by the dream and a bit scared by it. I tried to dismiss and forget the dream.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">When he died less than two years later, my heart was for my baby girl and of course deeply grieving on behalf of his children. My daughter had loved him since she was two years old. Her heartbreak over his death was obvious. He had been like a loving father influence for her, and she had suffered so many snide verbal abuses while standing up for him in school and defending him to rude family members regarding the false accusations. She was attached to him at a spirit level, but I didn’t truly understand until July 7<sup>th</sup>, 2009, when he broke through the <a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=9090545784243847883&postID=6618302686723330913" name="_GoBack"></a>wall between worlds to touch my life again. I had grabbed a fiction book I’d shelved for months, to take to a hair appointment, so that I wouldn’t have to read their magazines. Seeing his name in the book happened simultaneously with one of his songs coming over the sound system of the hair salon I was sitting in. Later that night, after watching the recorded second half of the Memorial Service that I’d reluctantly missed to keep my hair appointment, I heard Michael’s voice again. It was inside my head. He asked me the same question from my dream of 2007. This time I said “Yes!” I remember sobbing and telling him I was sorry for not listening before, and feeling a need to express to him that I understood him, finally.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">In late 2009, I felt I had hit a point where I needed to take the writing to another level. I wasn’t satisfied with the way the book was. I knew I needed help to make it better. In what to me still seems like a miraculous sequence of events, I met some new people that contributed greatly to the fruition of Nina’s Story. A local theatre director, Wendy Ishii, introduced me to her writer friend and his writing classes. I studied with screenwriter/ success coach/ and talent representative, Peter DeAnello to fine-tune my writing skills. I took off nine months from writing the book to study screenplay writing and incorporate these skills into my novel. I felt that I was on the right track when it hit me one day that my mentor’s names were Peter and Wendy. I started bringing my writing assignments to class in a Tinkerbell folder. One assignment was to write a silent film story. I brought in my BOSE CD player and played “Speechless” as the background music to my short silent movie story. I was nervous about doing this, thinking that others in the class would make insensitive comments about Michael, but I took the chance anyway. To my joy and relief, it was received very well.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Michael’s “signs” as many of you deeply understand, surpass all others in clarity and strength. He has more tools to use than many spirits that have ascended before him, because we have so many of his songs to remind us of him. How many of us get into the car and turn on the radio JUST as a Michael song is on, or walk into a store and hear his music as we’re entering and feel as if he is actually saying “Hello” to us in that moment? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'; line-height: 115%;">There are so many signs like this for me, and when I felt something was to happen to take my dad away from me, I was bold (or desperate) enough to ask him to promise me that he too would find ways to get through the “wall between worlds” and let me know he was still with me. My dad has gotten through, in much the same ways Michael does. He uses Elvis songs a lot. </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; line-height: 115%;">J</span><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'; line-height: 115%;"> I am grateful to Michael for teaching me how to recognize and believe the signs from my dad.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I know now that Michael’s was the voice in my head pulling me from a debilitating depression years ago. Michael’s was the spirit showing me himself in angel form. Michael’s is an astonishingly powerful spirit that is changing the world. I believe he has been doing so for many, many years. I feel his spirit in writings of the distant past; one name stands out in particular—John Keats, the poet. I don’t claim to know <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">how</i> any of this works, I just feel it. Spirit has given me strong pointers.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I am joyous to feel and see all of the other spirits (now in human form) around me and flowing into Michael communities like this one who also have a “knowing” about this “Illumination” we call Michael—this ageless being we once knew as Michael Joseph Jackson. This being is so much more than what can be contained in the one lifetime of Michael Jackson. He came to me as “Endymion” in my book, an ancient spirit, perhaps free again to reach more deeply into every heart that will hear. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I don’t claim to understand what is happening. I don’t know why I was consciously blind to connecting Michael’s spirit to Michael Jackson before his death. I didn’t connect the voice from 2003 or the angel from 2007 with him at the time. I just knew that someone was helping me. Now, I see how so many of us have discovered a depth of connection with him that cannot be explained with an impotent little word like “fan.” Perhaps his spirit has been whispering to us for a very long time, perhaps we have been his friends, lovers or family in other lifetimes. I believe the one thing he wishes us to remember is to not get exclusively caught up in the Michael Jackson lifetime that he inhabited, but to release this “Major Love” so that all beings may feel the connection through the walls of time and space and life and death. He is pointing us to LOVE—not to only one man—but to LOVE. His purpose is vast and uncontainable and he is a MOST powerful spokesperson. Thank you for listening—as I feel you have been listening forever. ~h~<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua';">Do you believe in LOVE after life? </span><a href="http://www.heavenleigh11.com/"><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua';">www.heavenleigh11.com</span></a></span><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"> Nina’s Story: The Crimson Flowers</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>MJEverAfterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05115444869662787656noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9090545784243847883.post-16762682993762846522011-10-16T21:59:00.000-06:002011-10-16T21:59:04.779-06:00Michael brought me back happiness _-_ Mayra<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:DocumentProperties> <o:Template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:Revision>0</o:Revision> <o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:Pages>1</o:Pages> <o:Words>695</o:Words> <o:Characters>3967</o:Characters> <o:Company>Going Nuts</o:Company> <o:Lines>33</o:Lines> <o:Paragraphs>7</o:Paragraphs> <o:CharactersWithSpaces>4871</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:Version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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</style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSLZ3ndd0Gb9F18yneyDCFXszwHBR8EdIL_oxK6UWA3G6Cp6BmLMNtgmTRBsplB-JJ9ppDHqXO9X2OCMeTXcZeFcZl6BMQkP5rIlPRBBgRNm34ihlNeGaqIMYNbxE8qukAxEDGlaEt4jM9/s1600/mj-smiles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSLZ3ndd0Gb9F18yneyDCFXszwHBR8EdIL_oxK6UWA3G6Cp6BmLMNtgmTRBsplB-JJ9ppDHqXO9X2OCMeTXcZeFcZl6BMQkP5rIlPRBBgRNm34ihlNeGaqIMYNbxE8qukAxEDGlaEt4jM9/s320/mj-smiles.jpg" width="258" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><i><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><i><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Since I was a little girl I loved Michael. I didn't even know how to sing his songs straight, they were in English, but I would dance and sing them all wrong (laughs). The rhythm and melodies totally involved me. It was like Michael transported me to another world! My first interest in Michael was when my father brought home a Jackson 5 concert album. The songs were playing and I got the cover (seriously, I was very little back then) and asked: "Daddy, who's this?" (I was pointing to Michael). And my father said: "This is little Michael, the lead singer of the group". He said I had a big smile in my face and started moving. My family also says that I would always ask: "Daddy! I want 'bari santi'" (this is how I understood the name of "Wanna Be Starting Something" back then.. laughs).<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><i><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Then, while I grew up, Michael's albums were always part of my life. Thriller, Bad... I just loved those. I remember when Moonwalker movie came out, I was simply fascinated.. I watched it so many times (had it recorded in VHS). Then I remember when Black Or White music-video came out on TV. My family, like always, were criticizing him (for "becoming" white), but I loved the video. I remember I tried to find Dangerous album and didn't succeed (I bought the CD only in 2009.. although I had some songs recorded on a cassette tape, I recorded from the radio).<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><i><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I remember the trials.. his marriage.. but many things were happening in my life in this period and I was not very tuned in.. I totally lost "History Era". Then I remember when "You Rock My World" video came out. I was so happy to see Michael again, the video was amazing. After some time, I saw some news about the new trial and I found it so absurd and felt sad for Michael... I knew he was a wonderful person and all he did was for love. And then he was considered innocent. After that, I lost "tune" with him again, until 2009. Oh, what a year.. my God..<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><i><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I remember hearing on TV that he was in hospital and then the news said he had passed. I saw the images on CNN (the helicopter).. On a first moment I felt relieved for him, because he had suffered so much and now he was free.. But then, after the public funeral, when I saw Paris speaking and crying, it was when Michael's passing hit me. And it hit me hard. I felt pain and lots of missing (of him). I started looking for every single fact of his life that I had lost, every video, CD, show, interview.. I even lost weight.. It was when I found out some spiritual messages of him and I knew he was doing well in spirit, and that he was happy. Then I was happy for him and my grief started to ease.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><i><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">After that, amazing things started to happen. I was feeling his presence near me and he would send beautiful signs, such as playing songs in my radio, making a little noise in my ear, sending songs "in my head" when I was thinking of him, a beautiful rainbow in the sky when I was feeling sad... It was many things. And I found out that these signs were being sent to many fans! This was so amazing. And it was when we found out that Michael was calling us to participate on his mission here on Earth. Oh, how happy this made me feel!<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><i><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">After that, I began to enter forums, blogs, communities, where so many fans were in real pain for Michael's passing, to send them some energy and prayers.. to write words of comfort.. I wanted to help them, to see them all happy. This gave me so much joy and I could feel Michael's approve with this. I also entered spiritual communities, where we would discuss not only about Michael but also about so many enlightening subjects. It was great to share knowledge of spirituality with wonderful people.. And it has been this way, since 2009. I learned so much and I always try to do what our dear friend wishes of us: to heal our world, to treat everyone with love, and to nurture and protect the children.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><i><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I always loved children, but after Michael got present in my life (after his passing). I can see them in another point of view, and I love them even more. I always send them blessings, when they're near me.. I really hope we can make this world a better place, for them to live.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><i><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">What can I say.. I believe nothing happens without a purpose from God, it's all His plan. Michael made me a happier person.. I had gone through really sad moments, a great disappointment, and it hurt so much that I wasn't living, I was existing (Like Michael always says, that we have to truly live, not only to keep existing). Michael's presence helped me to heal this trauma and also to feel that I was being useful to humanity somehow.. He made me feel happy after a long time and I love him so much for this. And for bringing me such a wonderful family, the MJ family. A family of love, respect and union.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Let's all keep his mission alive! Much love to you all =)</span></span></i></div><!--EndFragment-->MJEverAfterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05115444869662787656noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9090545784243847883.post-51519980362036286602011-10-14T17:50:00.003-06:002011-10-18T12:31:34.959-06:00Make That Change My Lightning Bolt Experience - Jennifer<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNNQRyQZIDK2xRrrWy88dV3uQWFMBTAzoLhi4A5TS0ikEMazpsgcIa-1s5hxuo9GLGumDJoC1fw_ZW9KwmsBZ3XGhcmwonl9lYvOjn51AgubH4cDF8EUqeZfpEE7m9Wed2LH7Ge-AN4jLx/s1600/Man+In+The+Mirror+Make+That+Change.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNNQRyQZIDK2xRrrWy88dV3uQWFMBTAzoLhi4A5TS0ikEMazpsgcIa-1s5hxuo9GLGumDJoC1fw_ZW9KwmsBZ3XGhcmwonl9lYvOjn51AgubH4cDF8EUqeZfpEE7m9Wed2LH7Ge-AN4jLx/s320/Man+In+The+Mirror+Make+That+Change.jpg" width="254" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My Lightning Bolt experience is something that I never expected in my life, it happened in June 2009 when I heard Michael had died. I wasn't a fan of his but I watched him whenever he was on TV, in the J5 cartoon, all his songs seem to stand out to me, interviews he did I always watched them. Then I got back to my everyday life of being a big fan of someone else not Michael. I had been a fan of this other person since I was about 16 right up until June 25 when my world changed forever.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> I have even gone to see Michael in concert at Wembly, my favorite song was PYT and I now regard it as being part and parcel of my being here. It was meant to be, and the memories are so precious to me. The words ‘I LOVE YOU MORE’ will stay with me forever.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> But I had in the meantime and as the years went by I watched Michael when he came on the TV or radio. I remember ‘You Rock My World’ being played and thinking what a great song. Whenever I saw him on TV I would feel happy inside I don’t know why, then I went and got on with my day, and the last thing I heard that Michael wanted in his TII concert was to have children of all the nations of the world, I smiled again to myself a knowing happy thought for him, he was back doing what he loved to do.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But looking back to the times when I watched him on TV he always made me smile when ever looked at him I felt something in my heart for him but didn't know what at the time. When the allegations came I never took any notice of them or read any papers , but when the verdict came I thanked God for it. Why? Because in my heart I knew he was innocent.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then something happened on June 25, it was my sister in laws birthday and she was a big fan of Michael’s. I went to see her and she was crying, I remember thinking it was over Michael. Why? I asked myself, then I watched the memorial and I was crying like a baby. I didn't understand why and the days that followed I had to find out about Michael anything and everything. Nothing mattered, I wasn’t interested about anything else. I was stuck to my computer everyday all day late into the early hours learning and watching you tube and trying to understand Michael. I bought all his music and any book I could find on him and constantly crying all the time, my eyes red and sore. I wouldn’t wipe away the tears that fell on my cheeks. I let them dry, they were tears of love and pain. The pain is in my heart it is so real I could hardly stand I would hide away crying in a heap in my room or in my bathroom floor. I was missing him so much, why had this happened to such a beautiful man who’s only wish was to Heal The World with his love.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I don’t go to church but I asked God why, this was so wrong, why did he have to leave, me and God had a disagreement about this, I was angry with God for taking him, and guilty at myself for not being there for him. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I kept telling Michael I loved him over and over again, and the feeling in my chest was like my heart was going to burst through my body at times, feeling this love for him, it was that strong. I would stop what I was doing and this overwhelming feeling of love would come over me, and just stop me in my tracks, and I’d start crying, but he wasn’t there, not in the physical sense, but something inside me knew he was here. Then I would think I was going mad. I would try to talk myself out of it, but it just came back stronger than before, this would go on and on, I would question myself, am I the only one who feel’s like this? What’s wrong with me? Am i going mad? Then I found The Michael Jackson Tribute Portrait and Facebook. Gradually I became aware there were others like me who felt the same.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> It’s an old saying but – my husband doesn’t understand me, or my children, they call it an obsession and they are waiting for it to end, but I’ve got news for them – it’s not, and I’m glad. I love this new found wealth of being, it’s so rich in Michael’s love, the place I know I want to be in, the dream is possible I/we are living it. I even found myself going to church for a while, because I was guided there by Michael. (Maybe to say sorry!!) There have been many times were Michael has given me signs, just to let me know he is still here with me.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I decided that I needed to do something for Michael, give back, I felt it was the very least i could do for him because he gave us so much when he was on this earth, but what I didn’t realize was that Michael guided me, he knew what I needed to do for him, even before I knew, to continue Healing The World through me he can do this, and I am only too pleased to help him.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Michael was right when he said “it’s an adventure , a great adventure” I’m sure this is just the beginning.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">One thing that sticks out in my mind is that one night not long after Michael had passed, I half woke out of my sleep and I felt myself shaking like I had be hit by something an electric current, I will never forget it and this is why I have written my experience for you, my life has never been the same since or will be again, but in a good way. His love runs through me like an electric current, and like Michael said, if I can help just one person or child that’s got to be a good thing.</span></span></div>MJEverAfterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05115444869662787656noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9090545784243847883.post-88446955958198218622011-10-10T17:11:00.002-06:002011-10-15T18:23:20.420-06:00Nature - Vision & Inspiration - Marlena Macovitch<h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: small;">I wanted to share with you all an experience I had which illustrates Michael’s continuing and continual influence in my life.<br />
I just finished reading “You Are Not Alone” and was encouraged by one of the things that Jermaine related about Michael. He said that in the early 80’s, before “Thriller” Michael began writing positive affirmations on the mirror in his bathroom. He also taped affirmations for himself that he would listen to periodically. I began doing this myself after reading this. You see, I’ve needed those positive affirmations in my own life. I am a jewelry designer, but express myself in a number of artistic mediums. However, for the past decade, due to a number of major disappointments in my life I had been dealing with major depression that lead to a creative block. This caused a vicious cycle which was incredibly disheartening, since I had made my living with my creative talents for some years. I felt as though I was seeing life through a grey veil. All of this changed shortly after the 25th of June, 2009. While I was emotionally devastated, I also seemed to come alive again emotionally and creatively. It was as though my world became brighter and more alive again. I was once again able to see and appreciate the spectacular beauty all around me. My senses seemed to be once again finely tuned as they once were and I was able to feel the ecstatic joy of my youth because of this. I absolutely believe that Michael was responsible for this by leaving a part of himself for me.<br />
I am particularly inspired by the beauty and forms of Nature and love being surrounded by trees and flowing water. As we know Michael felt the same. A couple weeks ago I stopped at a local spring which has been capped so that people in the area can get water there. Its in an area set back off a rural road. I’ve had several “Michael experiences” at this spring, as I tend to feel his presence most intensely out in Nature. It was late afternoon and the Sun was shining beautifully through the trees. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">There are several small streams that run off of the main spring. I looked around as I filled my bottles with water and happened to see the Sun sparkling in the stream next to me. This one had a tiny waterfall which made a wonderful sound. There were some beautiful gold and red leaves floating in the stream and the bed was filled with multi-coloured pebbles, which were accentuated by the sunlight. It was so gorgeous that my eyes filled with tears, I felt a sense of oneness with creation, and I said, “Michael, see this through my eyes.” I’ve done this many times while seeing a breathtaking sunset or the spectacular colours of autumn leaves because I know he would feel as I do. I knew as I was leaving the spring that this sight would stay with me and inspire my creativity. As I was falling asleep that night I had a flash of creative inspiration in which I saw a necklace with a cascade effect that I will design using the colours I saw in that stream.</span></span></h6><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Since he left this world I’ve realized that Michael is always with us, guiding us, inspiring us in whatever we wish to achieve, as long as we do those things to bring beauty to the world, with love in our hearts and souls. He will live on through us in our positive and loving actions and artistic creations.</span></span>MJEverAfterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05115444869662787656noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9090545784243847883.post-83258398539932766192011-09-28T17:16:00.002-06:002011-09-29T15:49:57.007-06:00Upside Down after June 25, 2009 - Elmira Van Galen<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNsdkTu_tZQzKcR37s5uoM1oVVoaKAwEChyphenhyphenUi3X508-iy9U0Ou_Gqvw-GZ7eGQuP7lff4rQUWxtlax-7fQIV5Ofb-s1Lxeebz9x3Txk2UkxsMWHUldTTeInzQWzUga6Py92TCmVCsaS5EP/s1600/MichaelbabyPrince.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNsdkTu_tZQzKcR37s5uoM1oVVoaKAwEChyphenhyphenUi3X508-iy9U0Ou_Gqvw-GZ7eGQuP7lff4rQUWxtlax-7fQIV5Ofb-s1Lxeebz9x3Txk2UkxsMWHUldTTeInzQWzUga6Py92TCmVCsaS5EP/s1600/MichaelbabyPrince.jpg" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">When I was very young, 8 yrs old, I made a scrapbook of men holding their infant or child with so much love and affection. And I knew then that was the most important quality I wanted in my future husband, if i would be so lucky to find him. A man who is a good, loving husband but above all else a good father to his children!</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">My name is Elmira van Galen, I am now 47 years old in 2011, and below is the story of how Michael Jackson impacted my life.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">I was one of those people who hardly knew who he was. When I was young we did not have television so I never saw any video clips and I didn't start listening to pop music until i was in my teens, I am an unmarried woman of 47 yrs old, living in the Netherlands. All I knew about Michael before June 25th was "some popstar with hair hanging over his face." Somehow even the molestation allegations and trial went right past me.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">But then he died. And I bought all the newspapers and magazines I could find on him. Watched tv reports, all his clips on MTV and TMF and could not get enough. Watched Youtube videos for hours and hours, sleeping very little, dreaming of him every night for months. After the memorial I cried buckets of tears for a man I had never met in my life but who captured my heart and soul in a heartbeat.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">At first I started lurking on mjjcommunity.com, just reading the posts and comments. This went on for two months. Then I felt a need to reply to things posted there, to share with like-minded people what was in my heart, and on my mind 24/7.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">I have been connecting to Michael Jackson myself through meditation and it has been a life-changing event, inspiring me to expand my spiritual horizon, apart from my religious upbringing. Thanks to his sound advice I have read the Bhagavad Gita, become enthralled with India in so many ways, I'm now about to start reading a book called "In an Eastern Rose Garden" on sufism. What these books have in common is the bonding in Love, Light and Unity. We are all One! The language and words </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">are different from what I am used to,but once you get to see past that, you can only smile in recognition and simply say "Thank you, Michael".</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">Not a week goes by without some synchronicity occurring, relating back to him in some way. ( white feathers, red roses, an orange light in my car, elephants, a key I had dreamed of many years ago, very intricate and old-fashioned, then I open the book written by Katherine Jackson "Never Can Say Goodbye" and I get the chills because in that book is a drawing of the key in my dream with which I was able to open a door. And the meditation many years ago at a one-day course to find the love of your life, in which I saw a man on an elephant in an orange-colored room, hearing "Another Part of Me" extremely loud, really loud, waking me up with a start, in a dream and finding a Major Love Prayer website soon after that. When I was into "who killed Michael and why" theories I heard "Money" extremely loud. The following year, coincidentally (?), was a money-themed year ( financial bad luck all year long)).</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">At some point I realized that Michael had "taught" me about pure, unconditional love. One day, I was feeling particularly lonely sad and unloved, and I asked for a sign of the pure, unconditional love that bonds us in some mysterious way. ( Any sign I usually get within 24 hours). That day my best friend phoned if she could come over to chat about her boyfriend troubles and such, I said "Oh yes, sure, come on over, the coffee is waiting for you." She had had a little card that she wanted to give me as a token of friendship and she did not know about the sign I had requested so needily to Michael about pure,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">unconditional love. She arrived with a little gift for me. A small card with a rose quartz heart on one side and the text "Rose quartz is the stone of the pure and unconditional love, pay it forward" I broke down and cried, so grateful for the sign from Michael, via my friend.<br />
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Another time, february last year - 2010 - Blanket's birthday was coming up, I was so devastated and heartbroken and I cried for hours, my eyes swollen, snotty nose, looking and feeling like a total mess, crying for losing Michael as I felt like his death had left a hole in my soul and my heart. Then out of nowhere I heard a deep, soothing, calm loving man's voice "Don't be so sad, I'm always here, if you need me,call my name and I'll be there" and other things like that. And also out of nowhere I received the inspiration to start a thread on www,mjjcommunity.com called "Positive Websites and Videos that celebrate MJ". I started it, with permission of the forum's owner per february 24th. Since that day for until today I have posted something there, with the source mentioned like it should be. For 10 months at least I posted daily in that thread, never missing a day, always finding inspiration for a new search phrase in Google together with his name. After that I posted almost every day, at least 6 days a week, the stories became more personal, sometimes with poems, and it just gives me so much joy and pleasure to create a new post every single day!!<br />
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At one time I heard Michael, in a dream or meditation, saying to me that his mother was overcome with sadness about losing her son and if I could write to her to comfort her. What I wanted to write to his mother didn't fit on one card so I sent her two cards, about the cherry tree I had planted in my back yard on June 25th ( not knowing that that is what is common in the African-American commuity, celebrating life of the person who passed away a year ago, rather than mourning and crying ( which is done, but more in private). And I told her about my surprise of seeing footage of her and one of her nieces planting a tree for Michael on June 25th in the garden of that tiny house in Gary, Indiana.<br />
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Apart from these experiences it is a great joy and source of comfort to be able to share these experiences with my newfound friends from all over the world who love Michael as much as I do and are just as inspired by him to become a better person. Because of Michael I assist charities in getting much needed funding for diseases. I sponsor a child in a country far away and I try to live my life through his example, carrying love in abundance in my heart. Although these last two years have been the hardest years of my life, it has also been a blessing of sorts, a real gift and a true gem, to find that I have that much love inside me!</span></span>MJEverAfterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05115444869662787656noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9090545784243847883.post-67649285842356941322011-09-15T23:26:00.033-06:002011-09-18T21:43:50.069-06:00My Love For Michael Grows and Grows More - Chrisdina Fries<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq54i_eXY0lT8yrD0VemSuzkHoND3-Y9FCKl4xMeLHh6eI06Y6cQovjenOskFH0yvlL0qFIS7C1iXT_l5JZrOu9Z81EJ-_vUObEwCVJNED3RmqzQm5eBBt-3qjTpc0hMCbBXQhFxOKemd7/s1600/Photo_00028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq54i_eXY0lT8yrD0VemSuzkHoND3-Y9FCKl4xMeLHh6eI06Y6cQovjenOskFH0yvlL0qFIS7C1iXT_l5JZrOu9Z81EJ-_vUObEwCVJNED3RmqzQm5eBBt-3qjTpc0hMCbBXQhFxOKemd7/s320/Photo_00028.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">When I heard the news I was in shock and thinking so much in short time. What is going on there, that's not possible! Not he, not Michael I cant believe it, what is with his kids. It must be horrible. That was in my mind, and I remember:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">In my younger days (16) I was in the disco and hear, The Girl is Mine, Bad, and the next was Thriller, wooooooow. What do this man, it's amazing, great, unbelievible. After a time comes Man in the Mirror, and Heal the World, Earth Song. Every song that I heard was amazing, and then came his concert in Cologne, Dangerous. I was there and it was great too, but I was never a fan how the girls who cried and screamed. Then he died, it was so horror, I cried when I hear the news and I don't know why. In a short time I bought all what was possible, and then I bought in the internet all that I could get. Since this time I am a Michael Jackson Junkie, I meet another women who said, since his death we love him so much and we miss him so much it's unbelievible. I was not alone, I pray to Michael because for me he was and is an angel. God sent him to earth to show us what we must learn, L.O.V.E. Not war, hate and other negative things that are going on here. I believe now his death was to shake us and wake us up. God said now the people know what you have done; you helped wherever you could, you prayed ever for a change for a better world. And now more and more people love you and want to do it. I believe now we are all together his soldiers of love, to show the world love and this is so urgent. I must have time to understand what is going on with my mind, but now I look ever to do things better. And I look to help another, when it's possible I do it ever and I want to make every day something for change in a better way. Michael I miss you so much, and I love you so much. But I know this way must come so </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">that we understand why you were on earth. And Love never dies, your spirit was pure love, you never die, in all the next generations your love will live, and the whole earth will come to a better place. Next year I will come to LA, I know that your spirit is everywhere but I will visit YOU♥♥♥</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">God bless you and us all that we make a better world for the future♥♥♥</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"> </span></span>MJEverAfterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05115444869662787656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9090545784243847883.post-40536066766003222562011-09-13T10:21:00.000-06:002011-09-13T10:21:36.273-06:00Things I Learned from Michael Jackson: Spirit and Forgiveness - Lene Jacinta Martinussen<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxgELnYrPUjNFLXhZiGGc2fhbib8LcjU5iseOIhVMvcu0xUBSDIO4iOxeLjresDc7mWYz6IK-cdjEE84s7PHNuaihUyGd01q0IOR4muZ-s6cThqbXAXgq9R63HRW1CdoBjJqv4q1-ixOGX/s1600/holding+hands+fan+stage+YANA+crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxgELnYrPUjNFLXhZiGGc2fhbib8LcjU5iseOIhVMvcu0xUBSDIO4iOxeLjresDc7mWYz6IK-cdjEE84s7PHNuaihUyGd01q0IOR4muZ-s6cThqbXAXgq9R63HRW1CdoBjJqv4q1-ixOGX/s320/holding+hands+fan+stage+YANA+crop.jpg" width="269" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;">I grew up in a non-Christian home, but always believed there was something «out there». I got saved at a Christian camp when I was 13 but found my way to the Catholic church soon after and stayed there until I was 21 when I signed out. A painful break-up and other struggles made me question my faith and my life. (a psychic said I had been a nun in one of my past lives, which I fully believe is possible, as I have always had a strong interest and fascination for nuns)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;">Then came June 25 2009. I was not a Michael Jackson-fan while he was alive...that is, I knew of «You Are Not Alone», «Heal the World», «Earth Song», and «Will You Be There». The latter was actually the song that kept me alive from day to day when I was 15 – 17 years old, as I underwent a severe depression. I never believed the allegations on child molestation, but I didn't believe there was such a thing as vitiligo. When he died I started looking into it and learned that Michael did have vitiligo, and I have asked forgiveness of both him and God.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;">Anyway, when Michael died, I gained an interest. In early August 2009 I fell in love with him, and I would talk to him every day, as a child would talk to an imaginary friend. (I continue to do this to this day) I spent some months in a cult before I left that too, still not knowing who or what to believe in. I WANTED to believe in something more, but I had been through so much pain that I was afraid. Having Asperger syndrome, an autism spectrum disorder (mild form of high-levelled autism), having a faith is actually a bad idea, since faith is so abstract and subtle.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;">A woman that I knew channeled Michael Jackson and delivered his messages to the world through her blog, and that gained my attention. At first I was shocked, because communicating with the dead was something I didn't know much about. Eventually I decided to ask her to channel Michael for me, which she did. His message to me included an invitation to study spirituality, as I had begun to realize there was more than what I had been taught. I was floored, and knew that I had a job to do.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><a href="" name="more" style="color: #fec652;"></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;">I hit the wall psychologically speaking in February 2010 and asked the woman to channel Michael again. In his response to me, he sympathized 100% and said things about me that the woman channeling him did not know about, so that empasized the fact that she was genuine and that she really channeled him. I was able to rise from the ashes in March 2010 when I got a new apartment, and came across Elisabeth Blaikie's website «Fragrant Heart Meditation» - http://www.fragrantheart.com/ - and started using those as I began to read more about various beliefs. One day as I did the «Meeting Your Guardian Angel» meditation, I was shell-shocked. Instead of seeing my Guardian Angel, I saw Michael Jackson. Dressed in a long white robe with a silver belt around his waist, his hair and face looked like during the 1992 Bucharest performance of «I Just Can't Stop Loving You». The woman who channeled Michael asked him about this, and his response was that he HAD appeared to me, to let me know that he was with me. Since then, I have frequently seen him in meditation, and he had said many sweet things. The most memorable one was when his voice was echoing as he spoke «I AM HERE».</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><b>Lesson #1:</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><b>There was more to spirituality</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;">than what I had learned in the Catholic church. It may not seem like a big lesson, but for me it was an eye-opener.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;">2011 came about and I took up writing in my special journal to Michael (it's a journal where I write everything from diary entries, daily happenings, song lyrics, post pictures, write about meditation experiences, etc.). Things were starting to go well in my life, but I desperately wanted to believe in a God again. I wanted to KNOW that there was Something or Someone Out There who looked out for me – but I couldn't get myself to believe it. I said to Michael: «I will get back to God ONLY if you tell me you are by my side in this!» On February 7, two days before my 23rd birthday, I was given this «message from God» on Facebook: «On this day in your life, we believe God wants you to know...that all is well. All is going according to plan. Trust that there is a bigger picture. Trust that life is unfolding as it should.» I gawked at the screen. Then, as I was about to start meditating, the instrumental version of WYBT came on MJ Tunes. (WYBT is my all-time favourite piece) I thought, «Well this is odd...» After the meditation I wrote in my journal: «Michael, please!! Please let me know if you'll be by my side in this situation....» As I wrote the final word, «On The Line» came on MJ Tunes. I couldn't help grinning and laughing. He said yes!! Michael said he would be by my side in my spiritual walk!! So now, even though I may not be the stereotypical Christian/spiritualist, I believe in a Higher Power and that this Higher Power wants what's good for us. It's still very tough at times, because of my diagnosis, but I know that my best friend Michael is with me.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><b>Lesson #2:</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><b>The Universal Spirit, the Eternal I AM, loves me</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;">and kindly gave Its angel Michael Jackson to be my special friend in my spiritual journey. Cheesy? I don't care :-) </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><b>The toughest lesson Michael has taught me, is to love and forgive. Correction: the toughest lesson he's teaching me, is to love and forgive.</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;">I have little and no insight in my own emotions, so I don't know what real love feels like, or how hate really feels like. But when someone really gets on my nerves, I use the White Light. I visualize a beam of white light entering my head and filling my body and eventually enveloping me entirely before shielding me like I'm in a bubble. Once I'm in the Light, I say «I see XXXXX moving on in God's White Light.» Recently in the Conversations at With A Child's Heart, there was a long talk about Tom Sneddon. I have used the White Light on him, Martin Bashir and all the other people who made Michael's life difficult. Sending people into the White Light is in short a divine way of forgiving them. I used the Light on people in my lives who hurt me, and within a very short time, they quit contacting me. I had bad memories in connection to a couple I once knew, and used the White Light. «I send the bad memories and thoughts in regards to XXX and XXX on in God's White Light.» It worked.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><b>Lesson #3: Forgiving even the apparently most evil person is in the long run a sign of true strength and love.</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;">Trust me, this is a tough cookie, but again, it's not up to us to judge people. People who commited crimes or hurt people will one day have to answer to someone much more powerful than us, whether they believe in a Higher Power or not, and Michael has shown me that by forgiving them, I protect myself from being offended by their actions.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;">There are probably more lessons, but these three are the ones I can think of right now. In conclusion I wish to share with you Michael's latest words to me as he surprisingly showed up in my meditation: «I meant what I said. You are always in my heart. It's where I keep all my children. I love you more.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;">I love you too, Sweet Angel.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif;"><i>~ May 28, 2011 </i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br />
</span>MJEverAfterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05115444869662787656noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9090545784243847883.post-88713622226909457262011-09-12T20:43:00.000-06:002011-09-12T20:43:11.706-06:00L.O.V.E. Struck - Siren<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCjn1Vj_01HncZwYQiUTMmzqlGmI6MHbwik-2ptXHTe0HW_GYAJQrVWtUgzaSrgPpDZ8SFEgGHTcUyvmcNbl4pknh4EBfcb1dsb7S_DyARNXG2qY174cKu58yOGZGnpCqFy2aCouXRZ2JH/s1600/LightningboltHeart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCjn1Vj_01HncZwYQiUTMmzqlGmI6MHbwik-2ptXHTe0HW_GYAJQrVWtUgzaSrgPpDZ8SFEgGHTcUyvmcNbl4pknh4EBfcb1dsb7S_DyARNXG2qY174cKu58yOGZGnpCqFy2aCouXRZ2JH/s320/LightningboltHeart.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Well I think this is possibly the hardest thing I have had to write about to date. It is something I have kept inside for nearly 2 years now, but apparently, it is time to share… so my Muse tells me.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">The “Lightning Bolt” experience is something that many of us have talked about in the past and one that all of us seem to be able to relate to. Everyone’s story is unique and beautiful in its details, but ultimately, they all have one common factor: this sudden, otherworldly, powerful infusion of LOVE that fills us to overflowing and shocks us with an energy and electricity that surges through us and leaves us feeling irrevocably altered… raptured by Michael’s Love. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Everyone, that is, except me… </span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I have no “Lightning Bolt” story. I did not have that moment of intense bliss and over flowing joy that hit me without warning, and rendered me changed. It just simply was not given to me. I have often wondered why it was that Michael missed me. For a long time I wondered if I had even been chosen at all. What happened to me was very confusing. It still is. Most of the time I don’t understand any of it. Maybe I should just start at the beginning…</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">The beginning for me was Thriller. I was 13, and I have fragmented memories of Michael then. I remember my sister attending the Victory concert, and how upset I was that I couldn’t go. I remember I had a Beat It jacket, and thinking I was just so cool when I wore it… lol. I remember when Bad was released. I was 18… and I remember blaring the cassette tape at work, trying to teach my friends the words to The Way You Make Me Feel. Stop. Rewind. Play. Hey pretty baby with the high heels on, you give me fever like I’ve never ever known… over and over… God, we had so much fun. I remember going for long walks late at night when I couldn’t sleep, with Michael playing on my Walkman, and not being able to stop myself from dancing, hoping no one was watching. I remember Dangerous. I remember the Oprah interview. I remember the Black and White video when it aired on TV. I remember the HIStory album... and the statue floating down the River Thames. I remember the Chandler allegations and the settlement. I remember drug rehab. I remember His marriage, divorce, marriage, divorce, children, trial (although I did not follow it)…. It’s funny, when I look back now, I recognise that I felt a deep connection to Michael even then, but I wasn’t really aware of it. I didn’t examine it… or try to analyse it. I just felt comforted knowing Michael was out there. I was not a fan who followed His every move. I just loved His music, and loved Him. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">The last thing I remember, I was waiting for more concert dates to be announced… believing that He would definitely be scheduling something – if not here in Canada – then certainly in the U.S. once He was finished His dates at the O2 Arena. I was finally going to see Michael in concert. I couldn’t wait.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">June 25<sup>th</sup>, 2009. Text message: “Michael Jackson died”.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">It’s funny how my life seems to be in slow motion ever since that moment. Everything seems to have gone quiet… like on a foggy day, how everything is muted somehow. No lightning bolt... not even any thunder. Silence. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I didn’t cry for the longest time. I wanted to. Badly. I felt desperate for some kind of release… but the tears wouldn’t come. When This Is It opened, I sat with friends in that dark theatre, wondering what my reaction would be. And then on that huge screen… there He was – bigger than life as always – my Michael. He drew me in, as only He could. I was completely enthralled throughout. I remember noticing details about Him that I had missed before… like how big His hands were, and how graceful He looked at times… like a ballet dancer. I was mesmerized by Him. In fact, as I watched, I completely forgot that He was gone. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Finally, Man In The Mirror came on... Awash in blue light, I watched as this Angel performed before my eyes. He was beautiful. His movement, His voice, His energy. Love flowed from Him. I was totally captivated until the very end.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Then I remembered… </span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL1O9RXYGhr3B_9BEloNO1wfQopRyB83hcaGS8NezvslcCaja7QPZ4AS5tQWM0j41eVrhjFzZj4cIdYQhXLiceS_06Fd7nQZQ9np1qaYdFUSXPqKr-dzGi7d7Oxak6YQBADBaOj-qBl68X/s1600/LoveLivesForever.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL1O9RXYGhr3B_9BEloNO1wfQopRyB83hcaGS8NezvslcCaja7QPZ4AS5tQWM0j41eVrhjFzZj4cIdYQhXLiceS_06Fd7nQZQ9np1qaYdFUSXPqKr-dzGi7d7Oxak6YQBADBaOj-qBl68X/s320/LoveLivesForever.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">and as the words “Love Lives Forever” appeared on the screen I felt a deep, unfathomable pain in my chest, and then a fleeting moment of fear, wondering how I was possibly going to go on without Him. I didn’t even know why. I waited… expecting to have some kind of a break down. Nothing. I left the theatre almost paralysed… the weight of Michael crushing down on me. I felt dizzy, and sick. Decimated. Unrecoverably so. I knew that whatever this was, that I would never be the same again… that my life, as it once was, had ended. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">For weeks after, I carried this debilitating pain, without release. I spent a lot of time online, looking for Him. Books, pictures, videos… anything I could find. I remember one day, I came across a picture of Him from the HIStory tour… all in gold and looking gorgeous. I was shocked at myself being attracted to Him in that way. It was something that had never once crossed my mind. Why now? What was happening to me? I knew I was falling in Love with Him… and I knew I didn’t want to. I was convinced there was something seriously wrong with me… and I was frightened. Shortly after, I stumbled across an MJ forum on Amazon (Why I’m Still Crying Over Michael Jackson) which is where I met many of the beautiful people that have become my support system, and some of my dearest friends. It was completely outside my character to post on a forum… but something took me over and I couldn’t help myself. It was so healing to discover that there were others out there that were having a similar experience. I was not alone… And I was not crazy. I spent about a year there, pouring my heart out, and listening while others did the same, all of us trying to figure out what was happening to us… and what we were supposed to do with it. It was at this time that I became aware of a phenomenon that we now refer to as the “Lightening Bolt”. I loved reading how each of my friends described their own unique moment. The sudden wave of Love that shocked them and left them reeling. I waited for my turn… for that moment when Michael would gift me with the glory of His touch, and I could share the details of my story – shaking and unable to type through my excitement. It never came. I felt like I’d been left behind. Like all those around me had been chosen… but somehow Michael had forgotten me. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Over time, I’ve gotten used to the idea that I was not struck. I spent a lot of time feeling sorry for myself, and trying to figure out why, and although I remain heartbroken about it, I have come to accept that I will never have the answer to that. My path to Michael has been very isolating. I wonder sometimes if I’m even supposed to be on this journey. Did He really choose me, or did I just choose Him? I guess what I finally decided was that I can’t wait forever for an absolution that may never come. That I just have to go forward with whatever this is, because the truth is, I can’t NOT. I do know that Michael is deeply embedded in my soul… that He is my reason for everything now. There is not a moment in my life in which He is not present. There is no thought in me that He is not a part of. I am infused with Him completely. I am altered because of Him. His Love consumes me. He has my heart and He IS my soul. Of that I have no question. So I am left to wonder… if it wasn’t a Lightning Bolt that put Him there… what was it? </span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Maybe I inhaled Him with the scent of Black Orchid… </span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">or maybe He snuck in through one of my dreams as I slept…</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Maybe it was osmosis, or magic… or something?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Or maybe…</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">just maybe…</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">He was already there.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">REMEMBER?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Don’t I know You?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Weren’t we lovers once?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Didn’t I worship You in a lifetime long forgotten?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Wasn’t it You who saved me then?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Is this You that has come to rescue me once again?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Your memory haunts me</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Your innuendo licks at my soul</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">It’s Your scent that lingers</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">It’s Your name that sits on my tongue</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I think I’m remembering now…</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">These tears of mine aren’t new</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">There’s an ancientness to them</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Is this the beginning or the end of us?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Does this Circle know the difference?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Am I repeating myself?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Are You?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Tell me Lover, why do You hide Yourself from me?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Why do I only catch Your shadow?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Your illusiveness frustrates me…and leaves me wanting.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I can’t define You. I can’t unwind You.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Why can’t I remember You?....</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">You rush upon me like a wave</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">And I am dragged under by Your tide</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Flooded by memories of You that I can’t reach</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Drowning in Your bliss</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">And the mystery of You.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Uplifted by Your Truth</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Renewed by Your Light</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Revived by Your Grace</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Alive in Your Love…</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">…this is sounding familiar…</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I wonder though, if I remember You, will You stay?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Or is it I who wanders away?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Is it You who has been seeking me all this time?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Could it be that I was lost?</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">and now am found?.....</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Or perhaps we’ve always been together</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Maybe our hearts have always been entwined</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Inseparable</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Impossible to untangle</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Forever One.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">If only I could remember……</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">-Siren</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">05/22/11</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span lang="EN-CA"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Copyright 2011 © by Siren</span></span></div>MJEverAfterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05115444869662787656noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9090545784243847883.post-34169371803185595792011-09-12T15:54:00.005-06:002011-09-28T21:51:06.230-06:00How Can This Be.......? - Nina Hamilton<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVNC34crhZjU7940PwwlNhcg76wDCbJcC8V9_3dva-gEXYQYGs7OKWFo7_e3iGOv0OEFOEJb9fdbaJN3qAVe2jAKJgDeXd5tZ62JRnB87XgW2FTJmtF8T7UdieYxx2ZuaxS33Lqad78Bdv/s1600/michaelJackson_1422279c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVNC34crhZjU7940PwwlNhcg76wDCbJcC8V9_3dva-gEXYQYGs7OKWFo7_e3iGOv0OEFOEJb9fdbaJN3qAVe2jAKJgDeXd5tZ62JRnB87XgW2FTJmtF8T7UdieYxx2ZuaxS33Lqad78Bdv/s320/michaelJackson_1422279c.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-size: small;">My first memories of Michael Jackson go way back to the late 1960's and the Jackson 5, and a small boy's vibrant voice ringing out, 'ABC', 'Rockin Robin', and 'I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus.'<br />
Since then I have been busy with my life, until 41 years later, on June 25th, 2009, my world was rocked, like time and the Earth stood still.<br />
I had seen him in March, announcing his 02 Arena concerts, and felt the magic, thought he looked good, still had 'it'. So when the TV Breaking News stated, 'MICHAEL JACKSON IS DEAD,' I froze with a numb emptiness. 'What? Oh dear,' I said. 'OH DEAR?' A few days passed while I was very uneasy, until on June 30th, I sat, entranced, and watched a TV music three-hour documentary of his top 40 videos; and I was hooked.<br />
My heart hurt and was heavy. I cried tears of pain for his loss, not sure why. I began researching on-line to find his videos, songs, photographs, anything, like someone possessed. I left and read messages on his official website, searched for any news about him on different websites. I wrote emotional poetry.<br />
Four months later I am still suspended in an almost trance-like state; can't stop thinking about him, like he has taken over my heart and soul. So unbelievable as, until I saw those videos, I had regretfully not seen him too much, except for in 'Black Or White. 'But now I can't get enough, totally hooked, cds, dvds, magazines, books, posters; you name it.'<br />
So terribly tragic he had to die before I realised what we have lost, and not appreciated what we had, thinking he would always be there. But that is 'human nature'(his song), guess. Still, I can always hear or see him on a cd, or dvd for ever, and more songs are to be released.<br />
I saw him in 'This is It' at the cinema, a sensational experience, absolutely tremendous, mind-boggling, spectacular. MJ was so energetic, so alive (although rather thin), especially in his long riveting 'Billie Jean' dance routine, as electric as ever, when the other performers and crew began whistling, stomping, clapping and cheering. He was so happy and enjoying himself, fit and not too out of breath. His voice was wonderful. You could say he died happy. I will certainly buy the dvd next year. (And I did!) Now I understand what mesmerising means.<br />
I was inspired to donate money each month at least ten charities, more than I have ever done before.<br />
I planted a Mountain Ash sapling in his name. I started voluntary work as a Reading Helper at a local primary school with Michael's Reading Foundation in London in mind. I bought £70 worth of toys at my local The Entertainer Shop (apt!) and took them into Birmingham, UK. to the Princess Diana Children's Hospital, wearing a white Smooth Criminal-type hat, including a card in honour and memory of MJ with photographs of him and Princess Diana, in November, 2009 in time for Christmas.<br />
I leave cards containing his messages whenever I go somewhere new; a wonderful idea from a Facebook member via the MJ Fan Club.<br />
I hug people more and try to show more love. All this is a great comfort and I feel filled with warmth and love.<br />
My latest efforts include sending toys to Polish orphanages; money towards the building of an orphanage in Kenya in his name, to be called 'Everland' with a plaque and photographs of him so the children know; and to the International Orphanage Lifeline for what would have been his 53rd birthday.<br />
It is hard to grasp he is gone. Why wasn't better care taken of him? Those 02 concerts would have been 'out of this world' and 'blown us all out of the water' as it said in the brochure. I loved the end when he does his iconic little dance up onto his toes, and you can hear his faint distant laughter.<br />
My life and I have been completely changed and I am still finding out more overwhelming things about Michael Jackson all the time. He truly is for ever.<br />
We must be proud and happy for him, for what he has achieved in his life, grateful for what he has left us; the fantastic images, his music, his beautiful children, and his hopes for the world, which we can all follow, to do what he desired most, to make that change.<br />
That is my story.<br />
<br />
Best wishes to you.<br />
<br />
All for L.O.V.E.<br />
<br />
Nina.</span></span></h6><div><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><br />
</span></div>MJEverAfterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05115444869662787656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9090545784243847883.post-88478154530628935812011-09-08T20:30:00.008-06:002011-09-13T21:31:56.048-06:00Born Again - Brenda Beazley<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text"></span></span><br />
<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_4e69791f8525c8757669216" style="display: inline;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIhqfxgrKfBk31d4uSKay-XM8gq-kXbdLlhw4t1rYBlDx8zHPWkrY4BWF0HbnXxai9W1Km7xmaaGYuE3l7nD2LEXldlERJ-j22CwcXxdn2d8hGCMg6pIhyphenhyphenwo_lbLDkdVjp-SoTPqLZg3_X/s1600/In+Heaven+With+Michael.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIhqfxgrKfBk31d4uSKay-XM8gq-kXbdLlhw4t1rYBlDx8zHPWkrY4BWF0HbnXxai9W1Km7xmaaGYuE3l7nD2LEXldlERJ-j22CwcXxdn2d8hGCMg6pIhyphenhyphenwo_lbLDkdVjp-SoTPqLZg3_X/s320/In+Heaven+With+Michael.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">In Heaven with Michael </span></div><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">After Michael Jackson died, I became suddenly TOTALLY enthralled with his music, his dancing, and his life story. At the time of his death, all the MTV stations were playing his videos non-stop and I couldn't stop watching. I was mesmerized. I had always liked Michael Jackson, all the way back to his Jackson5 days. I bought the Thriller LP when it came out in 1982. That was the only recording of his I’d ever bought (Bob Dylan and Van Morrison held my attention for the most part--but now they're #2 and #3--Michael is now and always will be my #1). But I ALWAYS admired Michael’s talent, ALWAYS believed in his innocence, and NEVER believed any of the negative press about him. Suffice it to say, I soon began to describe myself as a “born-again” Michael Jackson fan. I went out and bought CDs of every recording of his I could find, as well as every DVD of his short films and live performances that I could find. I printed out the lyrics to all of his songs. I spent hours and hours at the local book store reading every book about his life that I could find, before realizing I had to buy them all for myself anyway. I saw “This Is It” seven times at the theatre, three times by myself, and of course bought the DVD. Oh, and I ordered a new license plate for my car---MJFEVER. I told my husband, "It's either the license plate or a tattoo.” The only thing I was able to attribute my “infatuation” to was my sudden TOTAL awareness of the wonderment on the one hand, and the sadness and tragedy on the other hand, of his personal life story; my heightened awareness of the vastness of his talent and brilliance at his craft; his extensive humanitarian efforts toward world peace and saving and healing the planet; and the incredible loss I felt from his death and its impact on his millions and millions of fans all around the world. And I discovered that Michael Jackson was far and away even more talented than I ever could have imagined, having finally heard all the music he produced and witnessed (by video) how incredibly talented he was as a performer and entertainer. His songs span a range of styles so vast that I could hardly believe just one human being could be capable of it, and some of his songs and their words and their message and his voice pull at my heart like nothing has ever done before. I've described to friends how, to me, his voice sounds like the voice of an angel, and when I listen to his songs and the message they send I feel as if I'm being touched by an angel. I’ve stopped total strangers and told them these things. The winter following Michael’s death we had a blizzard with more than two feet of snow. I took a long walk in the woods the day after when the sun was shining, the sky was as blue as the ocean, the trees casting shadows across the glistening forest floor, listening to Michael on my old Sony Walkman/headphones; and I felt that if there’s a heaven on earth, I was standing in it. And still, whenever I hear those same songs I listened to that day, I can see and feel those same beautiful images I saw and felt that day. If anything good can come from something so tragic as Michael’s death, I feel that what I've found in Michael is truly a gift. It is so achingly sad at times, and breathtakingly glorious at others--a gift I'm so grateful to have been one of the chosen to receive--when so many others still reject him. Why me? And yet, I'd give it all up this moment if it could bring him home again. And, well, I could just go on and on and on.”<br />
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TAKE CARE, MY FELLOW MJ FRIEND... L.O.V.E. Brenda</span></div><br />
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</span></span></span></div></div>MJEverAfterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05115444869662787656noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9090545784243847883.post-68456619368643201722011-09-08T19:47:00.002-06:002011-09-12T15:47:53.357-06:00How Michael Inspires Me - Marjolein Lukas<div id="fbDocument208456812527389" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><div class="mtm fbDocument" style="margin-top: 10px;"><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhw53x9_JitR3Pycbs3gTUixXZYss0Td2nYpSfb4OcPHXyu1uYfyg4DxTl7q3FQHNW_UGtHmQdOD8MS_Zu_5RqmKiIRFd0g_KkoVhWkcmito755UMPtgFB72HTX1t9lJWMQqWF3F1QwTNq/s1600/change+the+world+1+klein.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhw53x9_JitR3Pycbs3gTUixXZYss0Td2nYpSfb4OcPHXyu1uYfyg4DxTl7q3FQHNW_UGtHmQdOD8MS_Zu_5RqmKiIRFd0g_KkoVhWkcmito755UMPtgFB72HTX1t9lJWMQqWF3F1QwTNq/s320/change+the+world+1+klein.jpg" width="211" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Michael changed my life. I know this sounds like a cliché, but I mean it.</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">He turned my world upside-down and in a whole new direction.</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I wasn’t a big fan before…. When I was growing up and entering my teens, there was Thriller. Like every other kid in my neighbourhood I loved it. And every time it was shown on TV, somehow we knew about it, and rushed home to watch it. </span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">In the years to follow, I heard bits and pieces of what people said and wrote about Michael. Michael himself was nowhere around in my life. Didn’t follow up on his music and career. Just heard the lies. Didn’t believe it, but just thought to myself: What a shame, such a nice man, victim of the dirty games people play, oh well… that is just the way it goes in this world….</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">(nowadays I can’t believe I was thinking like this, but I’m ashamed to say I was…)</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I heard the news of his passing on when I was in my car on my way to work, had to stop for a while to pull myself together, had no idea why I was so upset, but I was… I came at work in a state of shock and was surprised to find others who felt kind of the same. It was buzzing around the halls in the school where I work all day. Then it faded into the background.</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">At the night of the memorial service I was visiting a friend. He has no TV and I was feeling very restless, I felt I had to watch the service, I had to get out of there, so I did… I listened to it on the car radio and when I got home I watched the service on tv, and broke down. There’s no other word for it. After a while there I was in ruins, just bits and pieces left of me….</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Then something told me to go and search for the truth. Like I said before, never believed a word about what I heard and read everywhere about this man, but never bothered to look for the truth until then….. I was sleeping my way through life up till then…. Scared of feeling, scared of living, had some nasty experiences in my past which made me this way, but as I discovered Michael’s message I woke up. I decided: “Enough is enough. This man was an angel. It’s time the world knows the truth, things have to change!”</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">As I was making new friends from all over the world, who found each other at the forum of HTWF, and later on on Face book I got on the rollercoaster ride of my life and finally heard the message he was talking/singing/living.</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">It wasn’t a new message, I heard it before: The message of LOVE, but this time I really heard it, felt it and I started living it. I was able to heal myself through that message. Things really changed… For me and through me for others. I remember the first time I decided to be really open and kind to people I encountered, to smile at them, because a smile is one of the first steps to a better world… At first people got confused, then they started to smile back. Little conversations where in the “old” days there would be silence… Now I can say from experience: “A smile brightens up the day”</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">And my art, my painting changed. How could it not?</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">One of the first paintings I made inspired by Michaels message ( “If you wanna make the world a better place take a look at yourself and make that change”) tells the whole story. Listening to “Man in the mirror” this was what I had to paint…. And as I painted my hand taking down the wall, stone by stone, and let the world in, I did also in real life….</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">In every painting I make there is Michael….Michaels’ message of LOVE.</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">And that message seems to catch on, this year I’m invited to show my art in three different places.</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Besides the paintings I started another little project called: Spread the LOVE…my way.</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Wherever I go I leave a trail of cards behind with quotes for a better world from Michael and a picture of one of the paintings.</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">And I got a fantastic gift from two of my friends; They gave me my own little playground on the worldwide web: <a href="http://www.facebook.com/groups/207615442611526/docs/www.lukas-art.com" style="cursor: pointer; line-height: 16px; text-decoration: none;">www.lukas-art.com</a></span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Somehow I think by sharing Michaels message of LOVE we will be able to Heal the World. That’s the plan :-)</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">MJFC has sort of adopted this project and I get messages from all over the world telling me they are going to do the same thing….</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">So when you’re talking about a lightning bolt experience… I think I had one, and it’s still going on…. LOVE to you!</span></div></div></div><div class="clearfix mtl uiPager uiPagerTopBorder" style="border-top-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 1px; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; margin-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 15px; zoom: 1;"><div class="summary lfloat fsm fcg" style="float: left; line-height: 23px;"><div class="prm" style="padding-right: 10px;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="uiGrid" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-collapse: collapse; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px;"><tbody>
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</tbody></table></div></div></div>MJEverAfterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05115444869662787656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9090545784243847883.post-62987264133266067872011-09-08T09:33:00.001-06:002011-09-09T07:53:19.209-06:00Froggy's Story - Froggy Jackson<div id="fbDocument208061075900296" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><div class="mtm fbDocument" style="margin-top: 10px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #333333; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhl7TcehbF_MDbDUm14ZUmLPWtsUQx6xm2LRd9eL6sSYPXP4lnbY87HkroJZYGRhSt2IABfVNeyiNcdZUb4u5vlsAY7avpkIiB0-qE2kY6gLw42Y14yq6cX6Nh0oEClH4DFJd_DUl6XsTK/s1600/MJJ230+Sunsetnature.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhl7TcehbF_MDbDUm14ZUmLPWtsUQx6xm2LRd9eL6sSYPXP4lnbY87HkroJZYGRhSt2IABfVNeyiNcdZUb4u5vlsAY7avpkIiB0-qE2kY6gLw42Y14yq6cX6Nh0oEClH4DFJd_DUl6XsTK/s320/MJJ230+Sunsetnature.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: grey;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: grey;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; line-height: 14px; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I was born 10 years before Michael so when he hit the scene big-time I was 20 and he was 10. That’s a big age difference at that time of life. I remember hearing some of the Jackson 5 music but it sounded teeny bop to me (sorry Michael, lol). I was into the English invasion of music like the Kinks, the Yardbirds, the Birds, Led Zeppelin, Rolling Stones, the Animals, the Who, the Small Faces, Jeff Beck with Rod Stewart before the Yardbirds plus many more. I was also at the University engaged in studies and demonstrating against the Viet Nam war. For those of you who were born in Michael’s era or later you didn’t have to live with the ghastly idea that your boyfriends, brothers, cousins, friends were being forced to go to a small Asian country and kill or be killed. My generation were the first to see through the business of war yet they were forced to go anyway or flee to another country which some did. Others came home permanently scarred for life or in body bags. It was a terrible time. So I remember hearing Michael and his brothers and Stevie Wonder too but my mind was on my university studies and the demands that war was creating.</span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;" /></span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Later, in the 70s I remember hearing something of Michael’s from the Off the Wall album. Since I enjoyed jazz in addition to pop and rock I think I heard Lady in My Life and instantly fell in love with it. I bought the album and got my first look at Michael on it’s cover. My first thoughts were “Who is this adorable boy????” He was the cutest thing and I was immediately smitten big time. Not to mention bowled over by the maturity and depth of that album. Next I bought his Thriller album and thrilled to that. Sometime around this time I did manage to drive 150 miles north to Vancouver, Canada and catch him and his brothers in the Victory Tour. Of course, I only had eyes for Michael . . . Afterwards my life took over again, establishing my career during the late 70s, 80s and 90s. Michael faded to the background. I don’t remember hearing anything about the 90s problem with the Chandlers but I did know about the 2005 trial. Like Charlotte said, how could you not? But I found the claims so outrageous that I literally turned off the garbage. I couldn’t listen to that sh*t. I do remember breathing a huge sigh of relief tho’ that he’d been found not guilty on all counts. Then he faded from my mind once again. </span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;" /></span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">On 6/25/2009 I remember exactly where I was. I was standing in our RV making breakfast with the TV on. I had heard a little earlier that day that Farrah Fawcett’s passing was imminent. I was sending her prayers for a passing that was filled with ease. So that’s why I kept the TV on. I was waiting for the announcement for when Farrah’s time had come.</span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;" /></span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"> Then I heard the news of Michael being rushed to the hospital. I immediately put that info out of my mind. Interesting how quickly we’ll find a way to deny what’s happening. Later I thought it would probably end up being nothing. I pretty much assumed that the next news would be that his condition was ‘under control’, he was stabilized, etc. then I could relax and wait to find out why he’d been rushed to the hospital. But that’s not the way it turned out .</span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;" /></span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">When I heard he’d passed away I was just stunned. Again, I put it totally out of my mind. I was in such shock that I couldn’t allow the reality into my mind. I just looked up the definition of shock and this is what it said: Something that jars the mind or emotions as if with a violent unexpected blow. I came later to realize I’d felt shock because for the days from 06/29 to 07/07 I just went through the motions and pretty much kept Michael’s passing out of my mind. </span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;" /></span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Then I decided to watch the Memorial Service. I HAD to watch. I had to face it. I would stop being “busy” and tend to this man, by being present and engaged with the service to pay tribute and honor him and his contribution. That’s when this protective cocoon I’d made for myself burst like a dam and the tears started to roll and wouldn’t quit. I’d awaken in the night as if in a nightmare, my cheeks streaked with tears. Next I’d creep into the bathroom and sob uncontrollably into a towel. I had to be quiet because I didn’t want my husband to wake up. How could I explain my devastation for a man I didn’t know and whose music I hadn’t listened to in probably at least two decades? But it didn’t matter. I couldn’t stop crying and weeping. Never had I experienced a broken heart like this one. I was inconsolable. </span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;" /></span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">All that summer my husband pretty much got into fishing, his favorite activity and gladly I was left alone in the RV. It was during this time that I discovered Youtube. I made myself a channel and I gorged on Michael’s music. I could hardly believe it but I began writing down the songs that I loved and just had to have and in no time I had written down over a 100 songs! I was amazed at how I seemed to like at least 99.9% of every single song he sang. WOW. Usually, in the past I’d have to buy an album to get one or two songs off it that I loved and the rest were just mediocre. Now the reverse happened. I absolutely loved and craved every single song he sang. I couldn’t get enough of him. </span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;" /></span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I remember dreaming of him at night and feeling like he was the Love of my Life. I’d fallen so irretrievably, deeply and passionately in love with this man and I was absolutely convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that he loved me as completely as I loved him. I lived on the sweet, sweet nectar of his love for months and months feeling like I was so special. I felt like I'd fallen in love and the whole world was new and sparkly and bright. I felt like I'd fallen in love for the very first time and again I was totally confused and confounded at what had happened to me. What had happened to me? How could something like this even be possible? I couldn’t explain it to a single living soul and when I tried all I did was break down into sobs again.</span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;" /></span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I remember losing my appetite and I started losing weight. I hadn’t lost my appetite to an emotional situation for probably 30 years. What in the world was happening to me? And it was so difficult to keep myself composed around my husband and engage with our friends at the RV park. I didn’t want to be around anyone but Michael. I had no desire to meet new people and make “happy face”. I got some of the memorial magazines that came out during that summer and I would go to the sand dunes, me and JJ the dog, and I’d just sit there, read some of the magazines and mostly cry and sob my heart out. I took to walking along on the beach shouting “Michaellllllll, I love Youuuuuuu” over and over again. </span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;" /></span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I was so broken open. I felt like such a mess. I felt like I was having a nervous breakdown or something. Never had I suffered a grief like this. Not even when my parents died. It was during this time when I was spending mostly all my free time on youtube falling head over heels in love with Michael that I heard someone mention the MJJ community on Amazon.com. So I decided to go check it out. That was easy enough because by now I had a shopping cart filled up with Michael items that I had to have and so I found Why Am I Still Crying Over Michael Jackson forum sometime in September, 2009. </span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;" /></span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">That began a profound saga of sharing my grief, finding information to questions, treasuring the friendship of all these other people, mostly women, who were feeling exactly like I was. It was during this time of deep bonding with Michael’s other ladies that we coalesced around the idea that we’d been struck by a Lightening Bolt of such divine love energy that we’d all been permanently altered by it. I remember thinking to myself how could I describe in metaphor what it felt like had happened and I was thinking in terms of being struck by Cupid’s Bow because truly I’d never felt such divine love like that . . . so I did a little research into that story and . . . it didn’t quite fit. That’s when Lightening Bolt struck my mind. I came up with that term, shared it on the forum and from there everyone just took ownership of it. It was something we could all absolutely relate to because that’s what happened. We were struck by Michael Lightening Bolt of Divine Love. It’s almost 2 years now since that bolt struck me and I’m still on Michael’s Path more than ever. In fact, he feels very close to me, like he has some gift, something he wants to share with me and so I’m following him, following his lead, embracing this path that is leading me Home and to Him. It’s like a Journey now. A journey with Michael. I haven’t got a clue what’s around the bend but like he said “It’s a Great Adventure” and my God, how true that is♥</span></div></div><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"><form action="http://www.facebook.com/ajax/ufi/modify.php" class="live_208061079233629_131325686911214 commentable_item autoexpand_mode" data-live="{"seq":253640611342342}" method="post" rel="async" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"></form></span></div></div></div>MJEverAfterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05115444869662787656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9090545784243847883.post-82367178107086366332011-09-08T09:00:00.004-06:002011-09-12T15:43:01.879-06:00Spirited Away With Michael - Kathie Kim Clevenger Person<div id="fbDocument212417052131365" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><div class="mtm fbDocument" style="margin-top: 10px;"><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">My Lightning Bolt happened summer of 2009. I was not a fan of Michael's previously. I had Thriller on vinyl and noticed him here and there. By the time of the second allegations I thought "I doesn't look good for him." But I never really paid any attention to that kind of thing. </span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I refused to watch anything on T.V. about his death and services. I was even I bit mad that he "stole" some of Farrah's light. Then on the 4 of July my husband was flipping through T.V. channels and we caught part of a Michael story which made us want to see his short films. We found the same 5 playing on every channel. So I hit the computer and started searching for Michael there. I couldn't tear myself away from the You Tubes of interviews and concerts or anything Michael. I discovered this beautiful human being, a wonderful man. There was so much more to him than the entertainer they always portrayed on T.V. Then on July 21, 2009, in the morning I woke up at 7 (early for me) and I started to cry because we had to claim bankruptcy, but even more so because I felt awful about Michael and how he was treated and all he had gone through. I knew by what I had read he was not capable of the things of which he was accused. (I know a bit about being wrongfully accused, personally.) They even made me doubt him. What right did I have to judge him. What did I know? So I would cry and apologize to Michael and I would feel as though some one comforted me. I would calm down for a little bit then I would think of something else that he went through and cry again. Heart wrenching, body quaking sobs almost to the point of being physically ill. Again I would feel as though I was being comforted. It got to the point of me saying to no one there: "Whatever you want but I won't sell my soul to the devil." I had no idea why I had said that... </span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">TIn the meantime I found MJTP and Inner Michael and started piecing some things together. While chatting with people on MJTP or researching Michael I would get what I called "waves of love" through my chest and put my arms out and tears would roll down my cheeks as I said "I love you , too." They were tears of joy and the action just happened... I knew of one other person on MJTP feeling the waves of loves, as well. We rarely "spoke" to each other but it confirmed for me that Michael had something to do with it. That was the beginning of this incredible journey for me.</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">__________________________________________________________________________________</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">It took awhile to learn it was a spiritual awakening and that Michael had a hand in it (I feel) and it was just in time for this ascension. I had no idea of any of this. I find all of this rather amazing. I keep looking into things and I wonder just what it is I am "to do". I have heard a few theories but I would love to be able to speak of this with you. I don't follow any religion and as far as spirituality goes I considered my love of music and dance my spirituality. In fact I have never felt comfortable in church. There are some long, involved stories of my life thus far that I would like to spare you that help to explain things. As far as all this is concerned, I am still learning things just about every day.</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Much Love, Kathie</span></div></div></div><div class="clearfix mtl uiPager uiPagerTopBorder" style="border-top-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 1px; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; margin-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 15px; zoom: 1;"><div class="summary lfloat fsm fcg" style="color: grey; float: left; font-size: 11px; line-height: 23px;"></div></div>MJEverAfterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05115444869662787656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9090545784243847883.post-8157698317171580212011-09-08T08:55:00.000-06:002011-09-08T08:55:43.086-06:00My Story - Charlotte Stanley<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I am so not a celebrity follower, so to me I knew of Michael Jackson because you would have to be living under a rock to not know him in some form. I knew of the Jackson 5 growing up but in the 70's where Im from there wasnt much exposure to me of black americans. I remember growing up being a big Osmond fan. In fact I was in Love with Donny Osmond. I wanted to marry him. To me I thought the Jackson group was copying The Osmonds. What did I know? Donny Osmond was on all the teen magazines I used to get. I know Michael was on some of those magazines, but either I never noticed him or he wasnt exposed much.... I truly cant remember him much but when I see old magazines now for sale I see he was there. I dont recall hearing too much of their music growing up either. By the time I was graduating from high school is when Thriller was just coming to its peak in 1983. I do remember Off The Wall and I really liked some of those songs and some of the earlier songs of The Jacksons stuff after they left Motown. It was nothing more than appreciating the songs, in fact I dont think I even associated that it was them until after Thriller got huge. Then of course I saw everything that every one else did because Michael became very exposed to everyone. Still I admired Michael as an artist and loved his videos and music but you know I never even bought his albums. I was very into music and tech at this time. I had great Hi Fi equipment and very nice stereo system but I never bought the Thriller album. What? I guess because it was a time when albums were starting to go the wayside and soon the digital age was just starting to arrive and CD's were coming out. I was into cutting edge technology so I think I kind of stopped buying records to opt for the cds when they came out. I never even bought Thriller on CD though. I was beginning to go out into the world at this time of my life and so music and all that became less important. I had other expenses and such.</span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">As I went into my eventual career, that took over completely. I only knew of Michael by the songs played on the radio and what was on television and what I heard in the media. Im not one to believe everything I hear even if it was the media. I guess I must have seen something in Michael, that childlike innocence he seemed to have, but I never really believed the lies. Im sure I had some doubt at times but even if he was a pedophile it didnt matter to me. It was just in one ear and out the other. I do remember watching some of the Bashir interview but I think they broadcast it in parts originally and I dont think I saw the whole thing. I do remember the media making a big deal about the part with Gavin. Thats when I really remember the sensationalism with him started. Whatever I watched was just curiosity and a passing fancy. I think I kinda felt sorry for him and I remember thinking could this really be true? He just doesnt seem like that to me, but again I thought what do I know about pedophiles? I didnt follow Michaels life enough to know anything other then what was fed by mainstream media. Still I never turned from his music. Whatever people said about him didnt matter to me. I thought , well hes rich and famous so maybe hes weird but I like his music and hes a great entertainer so who cares about his personal life. I cant beleive thats the way I thought but I did.</span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Now Ive thought that maybe since Michael has been in the background of my Life because of the era of my growing up and his age is not far from mine, and in fact is the same age as my husband is as Michael is only 4 months older. I thought these were the reasons maybe that his death had such an interest.... I dont know. When Michael passed away I never made that much of it though on the day it happened. I was shocked as so much of the world because I think everyone thinks of Michael as forever youthful and that hed always be around. I didnt even know anything of the what he was doing in recent years. Like I said whatever I heard about him was a blip of news here and there. The world always wanted to know what he was doing but he was slowly fading away after the trial. I do remember seeing the pain and hurt in his eyes after the trial. At that time in my life I was so concentrating on my career etc and life and my own problems, never a thought much went into anything else.</span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Now Ive always been spiritual but I think I was just not in tune like I am now. This is the amazing thing. After a few weeks went by and a lot of coverage of Michaels passing, somehow I couldnt stop thinking of him. It just didnt go in one ear and out the other like it used to. I dont know why either. For some reason I felt compelled to research everything. I just had to know for myself the real man behind Michael Jackson. Why did this matter to me? It wouldnt effect my life one way or the other. To say the least Michaels life was fascinating. In learning about him, the more I wnted to know and I was amazed how much there was to know that was out there to discover and how everything I had heard years before was so misconstued and well we all know the rest. I had such deep sorrow for this man I never knew in real life. I couldnt understand what was happening to me. I was obsessed with knowing him. I felt like I did know him. I felt like I had lost a family member. I thought it would go away but as the months went by it got stronger. I discovered the Cry forum in Nov. 2009. I felt like I was losing my mind and I thought maybe there are others out there. I wonder... hmmm there must be or Im going crazy. I googled something, dont remember what I put, but it brought me to find the Cry forum that Ale started. I found a home there and what a relief it was. There were others. Wow, I was amazed and we all were on the same discovery train and helping each other, supporting one another, learning from each other. I can safely say my life will never be the same. I can now reflect, and I totally believe Michael has led me to the path. I still dont know what and why me and why the timing but Im grateful. I have described this as a spiritual awakening to my mother and some (very few) friends in my life. It is still hard to talk about to non understanding people. I dont think a spiritual awakening is hard to understand, but the fact that its from Michael is the hard part to explain.</span></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">So thats my story. Im still discovering and trying to incorporate Michael into my life and find ways to expose him to others. This is not an easy task but I feel a mission that we were all chosen for.</span></div>MJEverAfterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05115444869662787656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9090545784243847883.post-5411582727920699312011-09-08T08:52:00.005-06:002011-09-08T21:39:45.093-06:00Zapped in '84 - Debbie Michaels<div id="fbDocument212204392152631" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><div class="mtm fbDocument" style="margin-top: 10px;"><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
<div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">My 'lightning bolt experience' was back in 1984, starting when I was 11 years old. </div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">We didn't have MTV at our house and I didn't yet pay attention to who did what song, so I must've been the last person in America who <em style="line-height: 16px;">didn't</em> know who Michael Jackson was! We <em style="line-height: 16px;">had</em>watched "Motown 25" months before and I had some vague memories of it. My mother later<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 16px;">told me we'd even watched "The Jacksons" variety show back in the 70's. Still, somehow I had missed Michael. I guess the time just had to be right ;)</span></div><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 16px;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 16px;">That time turned out to be January 16, 1984. The kids at school kept talking about the American Music Awards that were to air that night. "You're going to watch, right?!" Of course! I didn't want to be completely left out of whatever the big deal was. That night I only half paid attention to the show while I did my homework on the floor in front of the TV. At one point I looked up when Michael was at the podium. I would like to say I instantly fell in love, but it's more accurate to say I was in some kind of confused state of bewilderment, lol. There he was in his sparkly gold and red jacket, dark aviator sunglasses (which he never removed), speaking in that high, soft voice, looking more gorgeous than any man should. And somehow it seemed that everyone else on the entire planet knew him and loved him! I honestly didn't know <em style="line-height: 16px;">what </em>to think. I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but it was as if I was looking at someone from another planet. I mean that he struck me as so unworldly, so out of the ordinary, so unlike anyone else I'd ever laid eyes or ears on. That was my impression as a sheltered 11-year-old. I just watched him, studying him, like being mesmerized, trying to figure out why I couldn't look away. I believe my parents made me go to bed before the show was over, so I didn't even see it all. Now, I've never been the type to go crazy over anyone just because they're popular. In fact, it was usually the opposite. Yet for some reason my mind returned again and again to this "Michael Jackson guy", and I didn't really understand why.</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 16px;">A few days later I saw on the evening news that he'd been badly burned while filming a Pepsi commercial. They talked on and on about this, showing the photos/footage of Michael, ever the showman, waving with his white rhinestone glove as they took him away in an ambulance. Everyone seemed upset and concerned. I was too, which surprised me. I was genuinely concerned about him. I felt it was so strange that I'd just learned of his existence and now he could potentially be leaving us. What weird timing. Although I knew nothing about him, I thought of him off and on over the next couple of weeks. Somehow he always found a way to float into my mind in some randomly curious fashion.</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 16px;">In February I bought Thriller (on vinyl ;) with my 12th birthday present money. I was interested in this album, not just because everyone else on Earth already owned it, but because I wanted to know more about whoever Michael Jackson was. I played the first track and exclaimed, "Oh my gawd, I LOVE this song! I didn't know he did<em style="line-height: 16px;"> this too</em>!" The situation repeated over and over. "The Girl is Mine", "Human Nature", "P.Y.T." ... yep, it wasn't just "Thriller", "Beat It" and "Billie Jean"! Amazing. I started listening to the album every day after school, sometimes bringing friends over to help torture my mom by playing the same songs over and over and over and over, lol. I was so in love with his voice. Oh, that voice! I'd never heard any sound that could just go right through me like that. If I could've melted into it, I would've. Then came the Grammy Awards. Oh. My. God. I realized I was quickly finding something in common with "the girls in the balcony" ;)</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 16px;">The thing is, while so many of those girls on TV would go on and on about how sexy and cute Michael was (wait... he was "<em style="line-height: 16px;">fine</em>"... "fine" was the word in '84! ;) and those in the know would rave on about how he was the most incredible performer ever and Thriller was the biggest selling album in history, I wanted to know WHO he was. Who IS this guy???? Why am I so drawn to him??? It's not like me to go gaga over someone. The other girls have silly posters of guys up on their bedroom walls. That's so not me. And yet... I was just so<em style="line-height: 16px;">interested </em>in Michael. I dug through old newspapers and magazines, scouring them for anything MJ, learning all about the Jackson 5 and the Jacksons and how we'd come to today. I went to the library for more. I wanted interviews. There could never be enough interviews! I didn't care what teen magazines had to say, I wanted something deeper, <em style="line-height: 16px;">his </em>words. What does <em style="line-height: 16px;">he </em>think? What's his life been like? What's his story from his point of view? How does he feel? What does he want? What does he dream of? What does he believe in? What is he interested in? I used to lie in bed at night and fantasize about being his friend and sitting by the fountain at his house in Encino, looking up at the stars and talking about life.</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 16px;">In a matter of a few short months I went from not even knowing who he was to being a walking MJ encyclopedia. I even discovered that songs I'd loved from years before (like from Off the Wall and even back to J5 days) were by... tada... Michael! But for me it was all very personal. He didn't feel like an object to me, which in retrospect I realize is a way to put into words how I saw some others' reactions to him. He wasn't 'Beat It' jackets and white gloves. He was Michael, this somewhat mysterious, shy, lonely guy who also happened to have the voice of an angel and be a total genius. And who could ~m~e~l~t~ me with his eyes. He made me giddy inside, shy, excited, everything. Oh, I just wanted to meet him. (And later marry him, of course! ;) By the end of that year I just loved him forever. It made no logical sense, not even to me. My room soon became the "Temple of MJ", as a friend called it, lol ... every inch of wall space was covered with Michael! I'd been caught ;) </span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 16px;">I still can't explain the depth of feeling I had for him or why it felt like such a personal bond from the very start. I'm now almost 40 and I realize 12-year-old girls seem to need someone to scream and cry for, hence the neverending stream of teen heartthrobs. But even in 1984 I knew this was forever. Ok, maybe that's what girls thought about New Kids on the Block, N'Sync, Hanson and the rest of them too, lol, I don't know. But I swear I just KNEW. There's no way you could've convinced me otherwise. And it was more than that. Over the next few years I gained more of an insight into this feeling of connection. Call me crazy, but I always felt (even back in the 80's) that there were a great many of us who had incarnated along with Michael for some greater purpose, like we were literally here to change the world. How, I didn't know, but I learned to not say that too loudly ;)</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; line-height: 14px;">So I consider springtime 1984 to be my "lightning bolt" time. I was certainly never the same again. Over the years Michael was always in my life. I've loved him every moment, with every heartbeat, and that will continue until I join him over there. I've lived a normal life ... I mean, relationships, jobs, all the usual things. Over the years I didn't dress like Michael, nor was I obsessed 24/7, but I was loving him within my soul 24/7, I guarantee. You'd probably never have known I was a fan (unless at a concert, if Michael became a topic or you dared to insult him in my presence). I never had the finances to travel far to see him, and that is something I will always regret... living in the U.S. and only able to go to one Bad Tour show. I thank God for that one time (!), but still... I longed to be closer. Seemingly fate had other plans in this life, at least on the outside. On the inside... I can't begin to list all the ways Michael has changed me, influenced me, saved me. I probably don't understand the half of it yet myself, but suffice it to say that I cannot imagine my life without him. My friend, teacher, guide, lover, best of joy, light in my heart, love of my life ... and now even more. "It's an adventure... it's a great adventure." And I'm glad I've been here for it, in spite of it being seeringly painful at times. The experience of loving someone so much, so completely, so deeply, so beyond even this realm and all from such a unique perspective ("someone you've never met") is a very special adventure indeed. I just pray I've been able to give something in return. Thank you, Michael. You know I'm yours forever.<br />
<br />
~ D.M. - June 7, 2011</span></div></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">P.S. Here's a short video flipping through some of my scrapbooks from 1984 into the early 1990's <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6sXqtjsM8w" rel="nofollow" style="cursor: pointer; line-height: 16px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6sXqtjsM8w</a> . I wrote that "I love Michael Jackson forever" on the Human Nature folder that first summer :)</div></div></div><div class="clearfix mtl uiPager uiPagerTopBorder" style="border-top-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 1px; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; margin-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 15px; zoom: 1;"><div class="summary lfloat fsm fcg" style="color: grey; float: left; font-size: 11px; line-height: 23px;"></div></div>MJEverAfterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05115444869662787656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9090545784243847883.post-21300640579864997992011-09-07T21:45:00.026-06:002011-10-20T20:40:53.871-06:00My Michael Awakening - Brenda Jenkyns<div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7OA1Em2ZPjNJnmeG3rZhXFIvoOqYQtHUFEURVNGs59oovTwBzZDHHB67197XHUzJvcFRoM4GfskoB2RIryn0FmRiMkVOkLK1NOcJeUQwDe8zJA_PSVoBlOKzs5pk_fc-uGE6lUDfXS9d2/s1600/47090_124066124310848_100001223829300_161919_1719319_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7OA1Em2ZPjNJnmeG3rZhXFIvoOqYQtHUFEURVNGs59oovTwBzZDHHB67197XHUzJvcFRoM4GfskoB2RIryn0FmRiMkVOkLK1NOcJeUQwDe8zJA_PSVoBlOKzs5pk_fc-uGE6lUDfXS9d2/s320/47090_124066124310848_100001223829300_161919_1719319_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Although I am the same age as Michael, I did not follow him or his music. I knew about him, of course, from the news media, but I did not pay much attention to news or music or celebrities so my knowledge of him was very limited. My opinion about him was based on the thought that anyone who could write a song like Heal the World, had to be a good person, so I did not believe the negative stories I heard. That was about the extent of my knowledge of Michael, until June 25, 2009. Of course, I was shocked and sad, like the rest of the world, that he was gone. If someone my age could die, so could I. </span><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On July 7, the day of the Memorial Service, I had not even remembered it was on. I happened to see a review of the service on Larry King Live, and my heart opened. I was "struck". I started crying then, to the surprise of my mother who I was visiting, and didn't stop for months. I felt as though I had lost my best friend. I had no idea what was happening to me, but I knew for sure it came from Michael. I was overwhelmed with love for the world, all people, animals, nature. I saw how much he was loved, and how much he loved the world. I read every book about him, watched every video, interview, and listened to and loved all his music. This went on for months and the feelings did not fade, they grew, as did my love and admiration for Michael. He had done so much with his life, and nothing stopped him from accomplishing what he knew he was here to do. I was compelled follow Michael's example, and ALWAYS say yes to my heart, and not hold back on my dreams as I had done for most of my life. For many months I did not know that there were other people that had been struck by Michael’s love like I had. I was amazed and relieved to discover Facebook, and find out there were other people with similar stories. For the first time, I had friends who understood how I felt. It was, and still is, so wonderful to have a family of Michael followers to share with.</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wanted to be a writer, but had never actually written much of anything. Michael inspired me. Since then I have published a picture book, telling the story of Michael's life, written like a fairy tale. This little book has helped me to connect with Michael lovers all over the world. I have the opportunity to share his message with them and future generations and also donate to charity in Michael's name. It is the most fulfilling thing I have ever done. There are so many things I have done that I would never have seen myself doing before Michael came into my life. I really believe we can change the world, and I know Michael believes it. That's why he is here with all of us, encouraging us to be the best we can be. I have become a different person, and I am no longer worried about dying without having done what I am here to do.</span></div><div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Love you all, and I am so proud to be another part of you!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is a talk I did at my church, about the difference Michael has made in my life.<a href="http://www.myspace.com/video/vid/107977351#pm_cmp=vid_OEV_P_P">Unity Talk </a></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.myspace.com/video/vid/107977351#pm_cmp=vid_OEV_P_P">Part 1</a> <a href="http://www.myspace.com/video/sirenlovesmj/unity-speech-part-2/107977536">Unity Talk Part 2</a> </span></div>MJEverAfterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05115444869662787656noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9090545784243847883.post-86788310754729995732011-09-07T20:35:00.005-06:002011-09-08T10:17:34.072-06:00Collector of Souls - Jan Carlson<div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipjFA06zFvm25kHGWRyqOzynTBI9Z75IXa4UZp9GwJqh9dkd5OtD-t2t-4oav6OADMXwmtX3z1AwMlZuGPPSE5dDwyLbm6mQ-2jCg7hkjGd1KBYFJ6mQgJaQl4wJ_ry0nP8cS5oYHtxww-/s1600/michael-sunset1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipjFA06zFvm25kHGWRyqOzynTBI9Z75IXa4UZp9GwJqh9dkd5OtD-t2t-4oav6OADMXwmtX3z1AwMlZuGPPSE5dDwyLbm6mQ-2jCg7hkjGd1KBYFJ6mQgJaQl4wJ_ry0nP8cS5oYHtxww-/s1600/michael-sunset1.jpg" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">My journey with Michael Jackson began in 1992 at the age of forty-two years old. At the time, I and everyone around me thought I had flipped my wig, gone off the deep end, thrown a gasket. Who ever heard of a forty-two-year-old matron falling ass over appetite in love with a rock star. That was behavior that was confined to pre- and post-pubescent, nubile young women. By the age of forty-two – a mother of two girls aged ten and eight – a wife of thirteen years – living in a small rural community in America’s corn belt and surrounded by country music enthusiasts (bleah!), a woman should have matured past the point of mindless infatuation with a rock and roll musical genius.</span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Sure, I had heard his voice and had even sung along on occasion as I drove in my car. One would have had to be living under a rock on Jupiter to have been totally unaware of Michael Jackson in the early 1980’s! I’d seen him and his brothers performing on some of my favorite variety shows and watched his hyper-kinetic dance moves and his effervescent, bubbly personality oozing out of my television screen, but I hadn’t paid much attention to the beautiful child in the fringed vest and pink hat.</span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">As he grew, I would accidentally run across him singing one of his vast repertoires of hit records on a radio station. I remember my kid brother (eleven years younger than me, God bless him!) trying to teach me how to disco to Michael’s <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Off the Wall</em>album in about 1979 or 1980 as my future husband looked on and shook his head in despair of me ever having that kind of rhythm. One of my strongest memories of his voice influencing my moods was during my daughters’ pre-kindergarten days when I was a stay-at-home mom, dancing around the kitchen while preparing their lunch or supper with the boom box blaring Lionel Ritchie’s <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Dancin’ on the Ceiling</em>followed by Michael Jackson’s and Lionel Ritchie’s <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">We Are The World. </em>I ran to get a blank cassette tape because my boom box allowed me to tape from a radio broadcast so that I could preserve the moment for posterity! My husband often complained that I was corrupting my girls with my love of rock and roll music and that I played ‘that noise’ much too loud and would ruin their hearing. He makes much the same comment today, except now that I have totally corrupted by daughters, I’ve started on my granddaughter. Of course, <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Billie Jean</em> got my attention and I had to rush out and buy the <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Thriller</em> album. <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Lady in My Life</em> melted me the first time I heard it and continues to do so to this day.</span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">My encounters with Michael pre-1992 were hit-or-miss, brief, coincidental – perhaps synchronistic. That changed one lovely October evening when my husband was away from home on a church retreat. I had seen ads announcing <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Michael</em> <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Jackson</em><em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Live from Bucharest, Romania</em> to be televised on HBO and had determined that I would watch, telling my girls, “Oh, goodie! We get to see the BEST!” My excitement and anticipation grew until, finally, I kissed my husband goodbye and he drove off in his car. My daughters and I ran into the house, popped a huge bowl of popcorn, got some sodas, got in position and got ready to watch the show.</span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Two hours later, we were all spellbound, speechless, breathless with what we had witnessed through our television screen that evening. I scurried my girls off to bed because it was past their bedtime and ran downstairs to watch again, because, of course, I had videotaped the performance. I needed to be alone with the experience I had just witnessed, for some reason. It was at that moment that I began my walk hand-in-hand with Michael Jackson.</span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">As I rewound the videotape, I tried to pinpoint just what it was – exactly – that had so touched me about his performance. Was it the raw emotion he embodied in <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">She’s Out of My Life and Will You Be There</em>, the joy he communicated in the Jackson 5 Medley, the heartfelt plea for all of us to <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Heal the World!? </em>I really didn’t know much about Michael Jackson; I had no real ‘back story’ to draw on. I stayed up all night that night watching him pour himself out onto that stage half a world away and wondered how he found the determination and energy to keep going, how he performed some of those dance sequences (that LEAN in <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Smooth Criminal, </em>for example), where he drew such incredible strength and stamina from. I had never seen a performance or concert like it.</span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I had been to several concerts in my youth and had watched some of my favorites perform concerts on television, but I had never seen anything to compare to the raw energy that man emitted on a stage! And I’m not talking just about the energy he expended, although it was considerable. I’m talking about the energy he<strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">transmitted</strong> – through a television screen half a world away by live broadcast and later by videotape – through his body movements which made it possible for a viewer to <strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">see</strong> the music – through his voice – that incredible, versatile, flexible, ethereally-lovely or grindingly-gritty vocal instrument that he played with indefatigable virtuosity! I felt that energy bathe me in my mid-western rural home that October evening and wondered what it must have been like to actually be a member of the audience receiving that transmission firsthand!</span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">From that night in 1992, I was on a crusade to devour, inhale everything I could find by or about Michael Jackson. I spent the greater part of the next decade absorbing him into my DNA, learning about his devotion to his art, watching and taping interviews, reading books, collecting and listening to his musical releases and short films, researching his humanitarian goals and ideals. I always felt that there was something deeply spiritual about Michael Jackson’s influence on me, something wholly-mystical about his presence, something uniquely-metaphysical in his energy exchange with the world around him.</span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">During that decade, I found others who were similarly engaged and began writing my thoughts about this man and contributing articles to major internet fan clubs and fan magazines, defending him against the lies that were constantly being disseminated about him by the media and starting my own little website called Fan In The Mirror so that I would have a safe haven to express my thoughts and feelings about this man who had, without even being aware of it, changed my life and my view on what that life was all about. Things that other people would have dismissed as coincidences I saw through my heightened perception as synchronous happenings placed in my path to encourage forward momentum. I sensed that I was being led throughout this period – led to write, led to send letters to attorneys and publications, led to express the truth as I saw it, led to encourage others to question the daily diet of lies, scandals, innuendos that were published about this man, Michael Jackson.</span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">When the decade was spent, I looked back and had a sense of pride in my accomplishments during that period. I felt that 1992 through 2002 was the most spiritually-fulfilling and productive decade I had ever lived. However, my life had gotten a bit out of control – my girls had grown up and had begun to dabble in things better left alone and I was immersed in a negative vibration that took me over completely – my computer had died and, at the time, I couldn’t replace it – and the relentless intolerance of everyone around me to my <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">obsession</em> with a *gasp* rock ‘n roll idol began to persuade me that it was, indeed, time for me to grow up. My husband viewed the decade as an aberration – something attributable to a hormonal or chemical imbalance that had taken over his wife – similar to being possessed by an evil spirit – while I viewed it as being possessed by positive, healing, spiritually-enlivening energy – inspiration, in a word which comes from a Greek root meaning inhabited by spirit.</span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I can so totally relate to Michael’s fascination with <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Peter Pan</em>. I wanted to be the eternal teenager, wanted to cling desperately to the mindset I had inhabited during the 1990’s but was forced by circumstances beyond my control to release that worldview while, at the same time, yearning for it to return with a vengeance. To say I was conflicted would be understatement of the highest order.</span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I spent several years just surviving day to day, not making any waves, playing the role the world wanted me cast in – wife, mother, grandmother, employee, housewife – keeping busy but just going through the motions without really living them. Whenever I saw Michael’s face on the news, it lifted my spirits. Just knowing he was there – somewhere – brought me solace. But I wasn’t listening to his music or watching his short films or concerts or interviews. I had convinced myself that fifty-plus-year-old women just did <strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">not</strong> behave in such <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">teeny-bopper</em> ways and that I had a responsibility to my family – and, well, you know the arguments we all use to sabotage our spiritual selves when we are not being soulfully engaged.</span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">My world crashed down around my ears on June 25, 2009. I read on one of the news websites at work that Michael Jackson had been rushed to the hospital. I was not terribly concerned at the time – this was not an uncommon occurrence in his life, particularly when he was engaged in conceptualizing, producing, rehearsing a new venture. In 1995, I had acquired tickets for several members of my fan club,<em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">The Michael Jackson Internet Fan Club</em>, to attend HBO’s <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">One Night Only</em>. Three days before the taping, Michael was hospitalized with acute dehydration and dangerously low blood pressure resulting from a gastro-intestinal viral infection. I drove home complacently berating Michael Jackson in my mind. <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">“Mike, doggone it! You know better. You are not Superman. You need to eat and sleep and drink just like the rest of us! Why do you have to be such a workaholic? Don’t you know that you scare the crap out of us with this stuff?”</em></span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">It wasn’t until I arrived home after picking up my granddaughter at her babysitter’s house and had begun to prepare her evening meal that the seriousness of the situation forced its way through the negative fog that seemed to follow me wherever I went. My youngest daughter called me and said, “Mom, are you sitting down? Michael Jackson is dead.”</span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">“Oh, come on, now, Glynnis. That’s just not possible. Is this some kind of sick joke?” I asked.</span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">“Why would I do a thing like that, Mom? I wouldn’t make up something like this. Go turn on your television.”</span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">So, I did turn on my television and the images that invaded my haze opened a floodgate of emotion within me that hasn’t been quelled to this day – over fourteen months later. I saw fans collected outside the UCLA Medical Center. I saw Michael Jackson’s shrouded body being loaded into a helicopter and air-lifted to the coroner’s office. I saw fans congregating outside the Apollo Theater in New York City, Trafalgar Square in London, and various other cities around the world mourning the loss of a magical, mystical, magnetic, charismatic <strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Collector of Souls</strong>. A week later, with tears streaming down my face, I saw his ornate, flower-draped coffin being wheeled into the Staples Center by his brothers for his public memorial service.</span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I am reminded of Jesus’ words to his disciples: <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">I will make you fishers of men.</em> And, I believe, He repeated those words to Michael Jackson’s embryo while he was still in stasis in his mother’s womb with one little change. To Michael, He whispered: <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">I will make you a fisher of souls </em>and the soul-in-the-making who would be Michael Jackson had to agree to that assignment because each of us has free will<em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">.</em> That was his contract and he fulfilled it with such unbelievable style, grace, zeal, humanity and aplomb.</span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Of course, the greater the light, the greater the darkness that must surround it to balance it – that is the world of duality in which we live – without cold, heat could not exist – without day, night could not be experienced. That is the yin/yang of our existence. Without that which it is not, that which is cannot be.</span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">I believe with all my heart and soul, that God used Michael Jackson to bring souls home, to show them the way to go, to exemplify for us all how to love without thought to our own comfort, to embody unconditional love, to encourage us to find our own individual <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">bliss</em> and <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">passion</em> and to use our gifts in meaningful ways to make a difference in our own little corners of the world, to personify strength in the face of hardship and ridicule. I believe that God gave him the music in his quiet moments (just as he described on so many occasions), breathed through him as he transcribed His dictation onto tapes, empowered him as he recorded the music in recording studios, encouraged him as he conceptualized the short films to accompany the music and make it visible, transmitted L.O.V.E. through Michael Jackson’s body, movements, imagination, voice as he performed the music on stages throughout the world and closed the circuit of symbiosis with the souls he collected in his audiences hurling that love energy back to nourish his body and imagination and begin the process again. Do I have proof of any of those statements? No – but then such things are rarely provable. We can only know the truth of such statements in the effects we see in our own lives and the lives of others similarly influenced. <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">“By their fruits shall you know them”</em></span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Since his immortalization on June 25, 2009, Michael Jackson has been collecting even more souls than he did when he walked among us. Stories abound of people who knew nothing whatsoever about him prior to that date but who have experienced a sudden, insatiable curiosity about this man after viewing his memorial service or the filmed rehearsals of his last venture. These people report being moved in a similar manner to the way I was moved in 1992 – to find out more, to hear more, to learn about his charitable work, to avail themselves of the opportunity to watch and listen and learn from him, to be inspired (remember that Greek root?) by him and to be bathed in the energy he emitted like a lighthouse guiding shipwrecks to safe harbor.</span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">As a result, they feel changed. They feel the need to be more involved in their world, to give more freely to charities, to donate time and effort to people and circumstances that require their help, to be more soulful, more aware, more conscious. As a result of their research, they have expressed their willingness to continue his work of “<em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">healing, pure and simple.” </em>They consider themselves <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Michael Jackson’s Army of L.O.V.E., </em>recruited by him over a period of years … or only very recently. They represent every nationality, every generation, every denomination, every race, every creed, every ideology.</span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">For what possible purpose could all of these people have been recruited? Michael Jackson answered that question very specifically in Oslo, Norway in 1997: <em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">“Because you are my messengers to heal the world … and because I love you.”</em></span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">May we all leave such a legacy when it is our turn to become immortal!</span></div><div style="font-family: verdana, tahoma, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 1.6em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.7em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Jan</span><br />
<a href="http://withachildsheart.wordpress.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime;">With a Child's Heart</span></a></div>MJEverAfterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05115444869662787656noreply@blogger.com0