On Michael Jackson and Child Abuse

On Michael Jackson and Child Abuse
by Orandon Marie
This article is written by me and published for Jamie, c) 2009

Many adults in my generation have come from families where there was child abuse. And we're aware how many of our parents from the previous generation were also abused in childhood. For some, this may have come in the form of spankings and beatings; while others may have had to deal with sexual abuse, and others still have had to endure both.

People never really talked about these problems in the '60's and '70's. Yet as kids we'd witness children coming into grade school with dirty hair and clothing, nerve-ridden, and generally shaken from neglect or abuse. There are no other words for it - when someone is hurting, something is going on at a very deep level. Children are basically innocent creatures. I believe they are real victims in this world when they are not cherished and loved.

In the early '80's, a film was made based on a book by Christina Crawford, called "Mommy Dearest". Today it is considered to be a cult movie. Back then, the topic was controversial and shocking. It is a story about the famous Hollywood actress, Joan Crawford, and her relationship with her children. Christina was Joan Crawford's adopted child. She wrote about her mother's mood-swings and the severe beatings she and her brother got as kids. She opened the topic up to the general public, shocking people into the realization that we, too, had our stories... Which continue to haunt us and shape up in every-day life.

You see, the problem with child abuse is that it stays with a person's soul.


Memories from childhood can take a person back within just a few minutes... To a place where there is no time. Or things felt in childhood actually become timeless; yet because we still remember, we still tend to hold onto the pain in an effort to try to understand it and clear it. Neurology is showing how we do this physically, gripping our bodies. Being hit and slapped, punched and kicked - thrown into walls, throttled and yelled at... Called names and belittled - these things are purely done for dominance and control. There is no other real purpose, except to intimidate a child as if he or she were an animal. Or worse.

If child abuse is a consistent factor in a young person's life, chances are the abuser does not see the child as a person, but as a thing.

During the '90's and into 2000 and beyond, psychologists and social workers have been educating the public on the need for healthy boundaries. Personal boundaries begin early in childhood, with doing things like teaching kids to say "please" and "thank you".

Somehow I notice there seems to be a generation who apologizes for their very existence with a constant "sorry". Sorry...? For bumping into you; sorry for need to walk past you; sorry for tripping and getting in your way; sorry that my existence affects you? has an impact on you? I wonder if "sorry" is good enough? "Excuse" or "pardon" is sufficient. What is "sorry"? How can I make things better? How can I make difference? These are all variations of the same social skills so many people lack... Is it because of a background of wounding and pain?

Many are easy to take offense, or are thoughtless and accident-prone. It's because they are not in their bodies; they are spaced-out.

The reason for this is: a person can disown the child-self, or their inner child. Perhaps, through abuse, the inner-child energy is just "floating" around the body but not in the body. It's "sorry".

Are we timeless? While the rest of our being is functioning in time, there are aspects of ourselves that are working to try to understand things in other dimensions. Those aspects would be our souls, or the child-self, and our Higher Power, the spirit. Indeed? Our brains are the last organism of the body to compute what's going on.

The child-self is timeless, able to remember things all from the past, including past lifetimes. The child-self has an understanding of about a 3-5 year old. Talking to the child-self out loud with affirmations is one way to bring in some healing. (A great website: vital affirmations.com) Affirmations are like prayers, helping us to bring the child-self back into our bodies, allowing us to learn how to choose, make choices, have fun. The child part of ourselves needs to feel a connection with Higher Power.

I think Michael Jackson was able to find that in music.
In this way he could keep a connection
which will sustain his spirit for many years to come.

Michael Jackson, in March of this year - 5'11", 112 lbs, in his pajamas.

I think no matter what, Michael Jackson was dying. For one thing, he had entirely lost his appetite. He was 5" 11', and weighed at 112 lbs; he was starving his heart. (Please check out my heart blog: helpourheartsjesus.blogspot.com) The heart needs sustenance in order to live. Many people who have childhood abuse issues can be anorexic or bulimic. However if a person is also addicted to opiates, this will suppress the appetite. Michael Jackson reached a point in his existence where he chose to shut down his brain. That's what these drugs do.

Michael could not seem to differentiate between his feelings and the feelings of children. His boundaries were confused. He may have been able to feel the pain of others in a sort of psychic way... However, abused people cannot separate themselves from others - they tend to take on the pain of others and make it their own. This is why people need to get professional help.

If they are not being honest with themselves about the things going on in their lives, they will have out-of-body experiences, be spaced out, act severely self-conscious and inhibited and shy.

Professional psychological help can assist a person to learn how to speak in terms of self and other, not "we", and not put things in general terms in regard to force-teaming with others. Patients can become overtly dependent on their doctors; they may have trouble separating themselves from their need to have the doctor. Telling the truth to the doctor is one way to establish a link of trust, something very few patients of abuse have in their lives.

Telling the truth is a key, both in personal and public lives. In this process the person can begin to establish integrity in his or her life. We deserve to be with people who are calm, gentle and loving. We deserve to give that to ourselves as well.

Michael allegedly left more music behind...

Michael Jackson spent the last few years of his life doing endless self-promotion, as everything was being ripped away from him. He had turn to the Muslim community for help and financial assistance. He had to leave the U.S. Apparently he continued to write songs. He has allegedly left as part of his legacy a collection, approximately 200 songs on record in his studio.

Look to the Light, Michael Jackson!

What a grievous month! Starting with the "accidental" death of David Carradine, the "accidental" occurrence when I told my (now former) boss to f-off... And now my Michael Jackson.

Sure, his death was an "accident" - NOT!

Of course, when any famous musician dies, it is always a conspiracy. I don't know why that happens. A kind of denial sweeps over the public. These are not just human beings we are enjoying - they are "stars". They are immortal. So when a death happens, yes, we want to celebrate their lives... But there is always the painful reality that gets revealed - ten year's, twenty year's - and then thirty year's later - the really-really-ugly reality and truth. Because, you see, by giving the dead lots of time to be dead, we are giving the dead some respect. I find that ironic, don't you?

Certainly everyone felt Kurt Cobain's death was not an "accident". The death of Jimi Hendrix was not an "accident"; Jim Morrison was destined to die, but was it by "accident"? We think not; indeed he may have been murdered but we'll never know. And Elvis? That was no "accident", but how do we even know for sure if he's dead?!

It really hurts when you grow up with someone, watching all the "accidents" happen. That's how life is.

Certainly Michael's life has been no ball-game over the last 10 years. In the last 3 years, he had to witness all his personal property go up for auction, move out of the country, get slapped with lawsuits from every angle, and... Is it no wonder he needed pain-killers? It was either that or start telling the truth.

Michael Jackson was never good at lying.


He was just too tender-hearted of a person to pull it off; so I think that fact was slowly killing him, like torture. As Mark Twain once said, "You can't pray a lie".

It is stunning to look at the old, original videos of Michael as a young child, and see how he is performing for his Dad. In fact, his confident posturing, gesturing, the little gold rings on his fingers seem to shadow his own father... The eager look of desire for approval in his eyes. You see, Michael changed as he got older; and then he changed by torturing himself, since he had no one, really, to tell the truth to. He tried, when he wrote MOONWALK - he tried to get there, and then he gave up. I am sure that book was heavily edited.

But growing up, we thought Michael was gorgeous and beautiful. Eloquent, sexy and talented. All the girls in high school were nuts for Michael Jackson! He was all those things you look for in a boy - pretty, seeming to have his shit together, energetic, funny, bright, shy, intense, expressive, gentlemanly. He was just the kind of guy you wanted to hold and kiss for hours. The boy you wanted to go to the prom with. We were glad we never heard stories of him getting too cozy with anyone but Diana Ross - he left so much to our imaginations! Especially when he was performing songs like Dancin' Machine, I Wanna Rock w/You. Between him and all his brothers? He was enough to make you pass-out - - right in front of the TV.

Michael became intensely shy... He talks a little about this in MOONWALK. He said he felt that he was under a lot of pressure to keep producing songs and performing. I think it was more than that. Child abuse does strange thing to people.

This is not the time to go into it; suffice to say, Michael really needed to individuate himself, break away from the stronghold of his Dad. Already by this time Michael was dealing with some emotional baggage he couldn't dismiss. He became accident-prone, on top of things, and tripped and broke his nose on stage when he was 18. (That was the first nose surgery.)

You know, we, his fans, just thought he looked more handsome with his new nose.


His father told him - "You didn't get that nose from me."

Please forgive me for being anything like you, Mom and Dad. I didn't know I had to be perfect; I didn't know that was my job in life.

The other day a friend told me - "Orandon, artists don't take shit jobs. Why would you take a shit job? Why would you ever do something like scrub floors? That would be enough to piss anyone off!" Well, I don't think there's a specific job description for Rock 'n Roller - some of the most sensitive artists on the planet, and Michael Jackson was no exception. Was he special? Let's just say he'll be irreplaceable.


What great artists do is learn how to mimic, until they are able to discover their own style. The shit-work would be in, teaching yourself how to please your Dad, as he's swatting you with a belt; forcing yourself to move around a stage, dancing and hitting the high-notes like Little Richard; learning how to stretch the truth and tell a yarn in front of the public, on camera; being coached by your managers and producers to believe you are entitled; finding yourself very sexually confused and still a virgin at the age of 18; girls are throwing themselves at you, and you don't even know if you like them (except for friends); and finally being told, you're entitled to spend money, indulge yourself and work under pressure since you've been supporting your family from the age of 5.

Yes, I feel a little bitter when it comes to Michael Jackson's life. It's like having something ripped out of me... Something which only, in the end, leaves a giant black hole of loss! Great loss, that I will hopefully accept some day. But today? I can't accept it - it hurts too much. This is what happens when you grow up with someone; he affects you. You remember his presence during both the good times and the bad. You see yourself getting older too, but possibly learning from the mistakes and wounds of your friend, and choosing grace and kindness.

I want to feel relief at the thought that perhaps, finally Michael Jackson will have some true peace in his being. His soul needs our prayers.

n

So because I am still dealing with my grief, this is all I can say for now.

I was super-pleased to learn we have Michael's glove and sequined coat here in Seattle, at the Experience Music Project, a museum for rock star memorabilia.

It was fun to go down to the Space Needle, watch the little kids dancing in the giant fountain to Michael Jackson's songs... The 11-year olds were working on the Moonwalk. Then, at EMP, this sweater was on display with the glove. Cute - it is in fact a ladies sweater, loosely knit with no buttons - fragile looking! The glove is also knit, probably these were both made in China.


It was sobering to be in the room with these items, watching Michael perform on a giant-sized screen. (Even with that performance he was critical of himself.) The songs were - I Want You Back, Never Can Say Goodbye, I'll Be There, which he performed with his brothers before leading into Billie Jean...

Watching him wave the glove across the screen over our heads, somehow I felt as if it was a cry for help.

These days, fans can do outreaches online, make our thoughts known in ways we couldn't do for Michael Jackson 20 years ago.

I wish for him to see God's light, and be in it.

Right now, I doubt that Michael's soul is aware that he has died. When people are addicted to narcotics, it is impossible to tell the difference between sleeping, dreaming and waking.

So I think his spirit was willing - he was in the process of talking himself through the motions of doing this one last tour in July... The spirit is willing, but the body can only take so much pain.

His spirit has been passing over us, watching all the colors and sounds of our celebrations and ways of saying goodbye, then returning home, to try and figure out what has happened.

Where did my body go? Why can't I open my eyes?

Michael Jackson, 1958-2009
May you see yourself in the eyes of those who love you,
and may you find God's light and love, quickly.

Michael Jackson, 1958-2009

God Bless and Keep Your Great Spirit

The Story of Life, lyrics by Jimi Hendrix

The Story Of Life

The story of Jesus
So easy to explain,
After they crucified him,
A woman, she claimed his name.

The story of Jesus
The whole Bible knows
Went all across the desert
And in the middle
he found a rose.

There should be no questions,
There should be no lies...
He was married ever happily
after
All the tears we cry.

No use in arguing
All the use to the man that moans,
When each man falls in battle
His soul it has to roam.

Angles of heaven -
Flying saucers to some -
Made Easter Sunday
The name of the rising sun...

The story is written
By so many people who dared,
To lay down the truth
To so very many who cared
To carry the cross
Of Jesus and beyond
We will guide the light
This time with a woman in our arms.

We as men
Can’t explain the reason why
The woman’s always mentioned
At the moment that we die.

All we know
Is God is by our side,
And he says the word
So easy,
yet so hard.

I wish not to be alone,
So I must respect my other heart!
Oh, the story
Of Jesus is the story
Of you and me!
No use in feeling lonely,
I am searching to be free!

The story
Of life is quicker
Than the wink of an eye...
The story of love
Is hello
and goodbye
Until we meet again.

*********************

I am taking a break from this blog for two or three other blog projects, depending! Please check my profile to get to them. Check by here for our hopefully updated photos of Jimi's Memorial. Wishing You All a Very Peaceful and Empowering 2009. - Orandon

Visit to the Jimi Hendrix Grave Site Today

My friend Ron and I went out to the Jimi Hendrix grave site today... Finding the Greenwood Memorial Park was a challenge. We both started to get vertigo from going around in loops! It was even more confusing to try to keep figuring, should we be on the freeway above? Or the freeway below?! It turned out to be a cold, rainy day and felt like a trip around the world.

Even with Mapquest, we had to stop and ask for help several times... We were laughing when people kept saying - "Watch out for Burger King!" "You'll see the turn-off near MacDonald's..."

Eventually we pulled into the parking lot, where the Memorial sit in direct sight.




I'm attaching a link to Jimi's family website here...
www.jimihendrixmemorial.com/index.html

Check it out... Jimi's dad, Al, had to fight for the legacy. He decided to use the money for a family memorial. Al died in 2003. The work on this site is happening gradually - but today we saw all the granite artwork and poetry is up! A life-size statue of Jimi is due as well.

The Memorial is GORGEOUS!



Jimi was not cremated. I believe the family wanted to get his body under granite, in order to prevent the kind of vandalism as seen with Jim Morrison's grave over the years.

Jimi Hendrix
Birth: November 27, 1942
Death: September 18, 1970

Although Hendrix verbally requested to be buried in England, his body was returned to Seattle and interned at Greenwood Memorial Park, Renton, Washington, approximately 30 minutes south of Seattle. Today, the gravesite contains the remains of Jimi Hendrix, his father Al Hendrix, and grandmother Nora Rose Moore Hendrix . The headstone depicts Hendrix’s legendary Fender Stratocaster guitar; although the guitar is shown right-side up, and Hendrix, being a left-hander, played it upside down.

Jimi Hendrix’s Grave at Greenwood Memorial Park
350 Monroe Avenue NE
Renton, WA 98056
United States
discoverblackheritage.com/jimi-hendrix-grave/

It's a beautiful memorial, something the cities of Seattle and Renton should be proud of! It perfectly expresses Jimi's spirit, similar to this painting, above. The beautifully-carved silver and smooth-black granite inlays on the inside columns of the dome are done in the art-nouveau style, with a super-fun psychedelic '60's flair. One column image shows Jimi's face simply looking in on the fans who come to this place, the words of his poetry scrawled around the stones in carved handwriting.


Ron set up his guitar and amp... He played "The Wind Sings Mary", and another song by Jimi about an angel; so lovely. Ron's spot-on guitar work and singing brought a feeling of presence for those of who gathered around.

At the foot of each column are granite benches, carved in handwriting with lyrics, for the fans to sit and enjoy. The energy is sweet, in a large grove of fir trees, birds, natural elements. I could have stayed for some time, however Ron started to become extremely cold, like a little child... So we headed out.

How I met Ron...

He's a black man, I've seen often up on Broadway, in Seattle, playing his guitar with a little amp. People are always throwing dollar bills at him, something you never see with street musicians in this city. As I walked by the other night, I thought - I should stop and say hi to this guy. I noticed, he often loves to play Jimi Hendrix.

Normally we don't just stop and start talking to someone we might meet on the street. Especially in the city, people can be paranoid. Many souls in the city are immature, and have hidden agendas and wounds. Sometimes it's possible to connect with someone who has grown beyond their wounds, but most of the time you get attitude. Many people are jealous and insecure... And it's only possible to reach to them if you're willing to blow rainbows up their asses. Ron and I are not that kind of people.

Sometimes it's strange to get into a conversation with a stranger... But after days like today, I'm not so sure all the people we meet are exactly strangers.

Ron was straight-up with me about who he is. It was fun to learn he is actually employed in the meat department at Safeway! ("I can't complain about it; I'm grateful to be able to make a living...") He said he just loved to come out to the street whenever he wanted, just to play. It was great to see the response he was getting from people! (Ron is someone who is always smiling.) When I told him about Jimi being buried just out of town, we made arrangements to go.


"It makes me crazy, sometimes," he said, "how people get all over my case for smoking..."

I laughed. Everyone suffers and struggles, I said, it's just up to how we choose to deal with it. We have choices!

Ron is a Veteran of the Gulf War. He's seen some things around the world. Today he kept questioning if we (here on the planet) were gonna make it.

"Not as long as we don't acknowledge we all have to live together!" I said. "The only reason we need to work on conflict resolution and honesty is that we have to live with one another! It's not that we need anyone policing our souls. It's not like anyone likes that, or wants it. But I'm a big advocate of personal responsibility. I'm not really interested in what people say, so much as what kinds of attitudes they have."

We both agreed it takes a lot of energy (more than it's worth) to hang around people with negative attitudes.

We are both close in age, born in the late '50's. We were both feeling a little sadness and disillusionment as we sat, contemplating the lives of Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin, etc. They weren't perfect people, by any means. But when you think about what they were expressing to the world in their short lives, it makes you wonder about the rest of their generation...

Throughout history there have been delightful little blobs of collective hope. For a couple of years in the late sixties, no matter what was going on in the world, our generation happily assumed that with love and education we could change outdated social systems. One huge thing that we missed.... Ninety percent of the population is genetically imbued with sub-mediocre reasoning skills. No matter how much you hug them or read to them, there’s no correcting stupid. Monterey – a celebration of youthful naiveté. –Grace Slick 2007

It was ironic, to pull out of the cemetery and see the Golden Arches of MacDonald's directly across the road from the Jimi Hendrix Memorial. We'd been talking about vegetarianism all through the day.

Ron was sullen, thinking about Jimi and the music.

I looked at him driving, he was so thoughtful and quiet and suddenly changed.

There was a bright light coming out of chest; but his eyes looked lost, and sad.

"I feel different," I said. "I can't describe it - spacey, light, and happy... I felt so much happiness coming from that place!" I laughed.

"Well of course!" Ron began to laugh too... "Because Jimi IS where he is. He's happy! He's no longer confined to this body," Ron slapped his chest. "He's no longer confined to this earth. He's happy to be on the other side! It's the best place to be - don't you think? And! We feel it!"

Golden Days

Cease the rushing,
there is nothing to complete...
Rest
and absorb the lessons
of your journey.
Be King or Queen for day...
Ending the Quest here
only takes you to
a threshold of another.
Be still; be here
in these short steps of Mastery.
Savor this time
to fully Become,
possess your worlds...
Savor your discoveries here,
for
these are Golden Days...