And if that’s true, then it’s also pretty clear that he wasn’t seeking the best spiritual support team to help him better use his significant talents.  I’m not going to go into the controversies about his life (and there are so many it will probably take years to discover the truth behind his extremely private ~ often paranoid ~ personal world) ~  nor into the controversies surrounding his financial affairs.

But what I would like to address are the ways that Michael Jackson led a lonely life, by his own admission, and how the help that might have sustained him was there, but he apparently turned instead to comforts of the moment, some of which may have contributed to his untimely and mysterious death.  His life was all about performing, expressing a message in forms of his own design, and connecting with others mostly remotely — from a distance.

He was a very Aquarian figure — focused on many of the large issues of our times, caring, and completely unique and unusual.  As a star on the international scene, few ever shone brighter — or flamed out so tragically. His life was in many ways very sad; and so was his death.

Let me be a voice for compassion here ~ and remember Michael Jackson as someone with a vision, many Indigo traits, and a voice that kept trying to touch us in ways he could not otherwise.  Michael aspired to touch the soul of the world — and for many of us, his music did that.  He reminded us about redemption, and a higher vision.  He clearly saw into realms that ordinary people never consider; he saw what is possible and tried to tell us about it.   Sometimes he succeeded, even when it shocked us.

He blazed trails courageously, sometimes where angels fear to tread.   He was “in our face” about gender identity and what it means to be male in a world that lags behind those who dare to take us into many kinds of possible futures.  Unfortunately, his message wasn’t always clear or coherent.  Maybe he was working his way up to that.  Now we may never know what he hoped, what he intended, and what his true vision for humanity was.

I’ve heard that there are around 100 unreleased new Michael Jackson songs; perhaps the rest of his message is in them.  I for one hope that his brilliant mind and soul sings through loud and clear on some of them.  Michael was both a cultural icon as well as an iconoclast.

Goodbye, Michael.  My prayers are for you to now find the peace that seems to have eluded you while you were here.  God speed on your path, wherever it leads you from here.

Shooting Star

The first thing I noticed about Sam was his wicked sense of humor. He’d slip a sly remark in so fast I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. And then I would burst out laughing from my belly at the depth of the humor. He once told me he planned to be the world’s first “sit-down” comedian.

That’s another thing about Sam. He didn’t weigh much (in physical heft) but his Light would fill a room or two. Talking with him on the phone, there wasn’t much way to tell that he was in a wheelchair and had been there just about since birth. Or that he has seen more of the insides of hospitals than most people do of their homes. Those facts just were not the ways he defined himself. At all.

Sam took the Indigo assessment several times, each time ranking high. That was not a surprise to me at all, because I felt he was “one of us” from the beginning.

One of the first things he told me was, “There is one word in the dictionary that I will never say.”

Curious, I asked him what that word was.

“Can’t. There is no such thing,” he said. And he meant it.

We worked together on helping him launch a motivational speaker business, on writing his books, becoming an ordained minister, and on ways for him to more fully embrace life on his own terms. There was nothing he would not tackle. Nothing.

He was a guy all about possibility. Mr. Positive. That’s who Sam Emerson was. Even when he was down. But you know what? What got him most upset was not about him; rather, it was his fury at how unconscious the rest of the world still is ~ how shallow we humans still can be, focusing so much on appearances we miss “the good stuff.” And that’s something Sam Emerson knew a whole lot about. More than most, I’d say.

It always seemed to me that there was more Life in Sam than he had body to handle. He had more plans than any one person I’ve ever known. There really was so much “Sam” in him, that I think eventually he just needed more room ~ and chose to leave this dimension behind, in order to find a “container” big enough for his dreams.

I imagine he’s found that now, without the perils of his physical body to hold him back. See, Sam was born with Spina Bifida. His body gave him no end of grief. And yet, he met each challenge with determination and grit the likes of which you’d not find even in a toughened soldier of war.

Sam’s “war” was about staying alive long enough to make a difference. I know he did that and then some. While I imagine the release from the physical world must have been awesome for him, I doubt that he will stay “away” for long. He’ll be back. I think we can count on that, if only for the unfinished dreams he left behind, if only for his yearning to make the world a better place, if only for his untarnished desire to help others even when he himself was so severely defined by what his body would or would not allow him to do.

In a way, Sam Emerson was like a shooting star: so beautiful it makes you catch your breath, and then it’s gone way too soon.

Goodbye, my friend ~ I will miss you so much. And I am happy that you left the tracks of your wheels on my heart. I will remember you with love. Go well into the Light ~ and return to us when you feel ready. We will welcome you back with open arms.

And Sam? Wherever you are, I just want you to know I added a new category in your honor today: Passages. it’s for remembering people who deserve it. You earned this one dude! Thanks for sharing your Light with us as long as you could.