RETURN TO INNOCENCE (Dancing the dream poems)
This pedophile subject was really too much for me (and everyone else, I think).
The first shock came with the openness and scope with which pedophiles are propagating their ideas and incredulity that practically no one seems to be willing to stop them.
The second shock came with the maddening injustice of it all – while real criminals were allowed to walk free the innocent man was harassed for no less than 15 years while all this time it should have been the other way about.
But there is no cloud without a silver lining. All that pedophilia stuff showed to us what it’s like to be in Michael’s shoes.
Of course all that filthy talk was directed at him only, and not at us, but it is nevertheless us who feel dirty all over and definitely need some sort of purification now.
HOW COULD MICHAEL WITHSTAND IT ALL? How could he hear and see it every day, year after year, from every media channel, and from everyone around who shamelessly mocked, laughed and pointed their finger at him?
Despite all his gentleness he must have been the TOUGHEST man in the world to be able to go through all that and still remain what we saw of him at the end of his life – in “This is it” film – a gentle guy who generously shared all of his good, love and wisdom with the people who were happy to be around him…
Just like Michael we definitely need revival now and some clean water to wash ourselves with. The remedy which helped Michael to survive was CHILDREN, NATURE and GOD embracing it all.
Drawing from all these sources Michael provided us with the first-aid kit to clean our souls and minds with. I mean his book “DANCING THE DREAM” the whole of which you’ll find at this site. I’ll post some excerpts from it now as Michael’s OWN words are his BEST vindication too.
A CHILD IS A SONG
When children listen to music, they don’t just listen. They melt into the melody and flow with the rhythm. Something inside starts to unfold its wings – soon the child and the music are one. I feel that way, too, in the presence of music, and my best moments of creativity have often been spent with children. When I am around them, music comes to me as easily as breathing.
…. When I begin to feel a little tired or burdened, children revive me. I turn to them for new life, for new music. Two brown eyes look at me so deeply, so innocently, and inside I murmur, “This child is a song.” It is so true and direct an experience that instantly I realize again, “I am a song also.” I am back to myself once more.
Children show me in their playful smiles the divine in everyone. This simple goodness shines straight from their hearts. This has so much to teach. If a child wants chocolate ice cream, he just asks for it. Adults get tangled up in complications over whether to eat the ice cream or not. A child simply enjoys.
What we need to learn from children isn’t childish. Being with them connects us to the deep wisdom of life, which is everpresent and only asks to be lived. Now, when the world is so confused and its problems so complicated, I feel we need our children more than ever. Their natural wisdom points the way to solutions that lie, waiting to be recognized, within our own hearts.
It’s curious what takes courage and what doesn’t. When I step out on stage in front of thousands of people, I don’t feel that I’m being brave. It can take much more courage to express true feelings to one person.
….When you have the courage to be intimate, you know who you are, and you’re willing to let others see that. It’s scary, because you feel so vulnerable, so open to rejection. But without self-acceptance, the other kind of courage, the kind heroes show in movies, seems hollow.
In spite of the risks, the courage to be honest and intimate opens the way to self-discovery. It offers what we all want, the promise of love.
… Feeling free, let us fly
Into the boundless, beyond the sky
For we were born to never die
To live in bliss, to never cry
To speak the truth and never lie
To share our love without a sigh
To stretch our arms without a tie
This is our dance, this is our high
It’s not a secret, can’t you see
Why can’t we all live in ecstasy…
HOW I MAKE MUSIC
People ask me how I make music. I tell them I just step into it. It’s like stepping into a river and joining the flow. Every moment in the river has its song. So I stay in the moment and listen.
What I hear is never the same. A walk through the woods brings a light crackling song : Leaves rustle in the wind, birds chatter and squirrels scold, twigs crunch underfoot, and the beat of my heart holds it all together. When you join the flow, the music is inside and outside, and both are the same. As long as I can listen to the moment, I’ll always have music.
Love is a funny thing to describe. It’s so easy to feel and yet so slippery to talk about. It’s like a bar of soap in the bathtub — you have it in your hand until you hold on too tight.
Some people spend their lives looking for love outside themselves. They think they have to grasp it in order to have it. But loves slips away like that wet bar of soap.
Holding on to love is not wrong, but you need to learn to hold it lightly, caressingly. Let it fly when it wants. When it’s allowed to be free, love is what makes life alive, joyful, and new. It’s the juice and energy that motivates my music, my dancing, everything. As long as love is in my heart, it’s everywhere.
I YOU ME
I said you had to do it. You said you didn’t want to. We talked about it, and we agreed that maybe I could help.
I said you were wrong. You insisted you were right. We held each other’s hand, and right and wrong disappeared.
I began crying. You began crying, too. We embraced, and between us grew a flower of peace.
How I love this mystery called We! Where does it come from, out of thin air? I thought about this mystery, and I realized something : We must be love’s favorite child, because until I reach out for you, We is not even there. It arrives on the wings of tenderness : it speaks through our silent understanding. When I laugh at myself, it smiles. When I forgive you, it dances in jubilation.
So We is not a choice anymore, not if you and I want to grow with one another. We unites us, increases our strength; it picks up our burden when you and I are ready to let it fall. The truth is that you and I would have given up long ago, but We won’t let us. It is too wise. “Look into your hearts,” it says. “What do you see? Not you and I, but only We.”
It’s easy to mistake being innocent for being simpleminded or naive. We all want to seem sophisticated; we all want to seem street-smart. To be innocent is to be “out of it.”
Yet there is a deep truth in innocence. A baby looks in his mother’s eyes, and all he sees is love. As innocence fades away, more complicated things take its place. We think we need to outwit others and scheme to get what we want. We begin to spend a lot of energy protecting ourselves. Then life turns into a struggle. People have no choice but to be street-smart. How else can they survive?
When you get right down to it, survival means seeing things the way they really are and responding. It means being open. And that’s what innocence is. It’s simple and trusting like a child, not judgmental and committed to one narrow point of view. If you are locked into a pattern of thinking and responding, your creativity gets blocked. You miss the freshness and magic of the moment. Learn to be innocent again, and that freshness never fades.
It’s strange that God doesn’t mind expressing Himself/Herself in all the religions of the world, while people still cling to the notion that their way is the only right way. Whatever you try to say about God, someone will take offense, even if you say everyone’s love of God is right for them.
For me the form God takes is not the most important thing. What’s most important is the essence. My songs and dances are outlines for Him to come in and fill. I hold out the form. She puts in the sweetness.
I’ve looked up at the night sky and beheld the stars so intimately close, it was as if my grandmother had made them for me. “How rich, how sumptuous,” I thought. In that moment I saw God in His creation. I could as easily have seen Her in the beauty of a rainbow, the grace of a deer bounding through a meadow, the truth of a father’s kiss. But for me the sweetest contact with God has no form. I close my eyes, look within, and enter a deep soft silence. The infinity of God’s creation embraces me. We are one.
Once there was a child and he was free
Deep inside, he felt the laughter
The mirth and play of nature’s glee
He was not troubled by thoughts of hereafter
Beauty, love was all he’d see
He knew his power was the power of God
He was so sure, they considered him odd
This power of innocence, of compassion, of light
Threatened the priests and created a fright
In endless ways they sought to dismantle
This mysterious force which they could not handle
In endless ways they tried to destroy
His simple trust, his boundless joy
His invincible armor was a shield of bliss
Nothing could touch it, no venom, no hiss
Soothsayers came and fortunes were told
Some were vehement, others were bold
In denouncing this child, this perplexing creature
With the rest of the world he shared no feature
Is he real? He is so strange
His unpredictable nature knows no range
He puzzles us so, is he straight?
What’s his destiny? What’s his fate?
All he wanted was the mountain high
Color the clouds, paint the sky
Beyond these boundaries, he wanted to fly
In nature’s scheme, never to die
Don’t stop this child, he’s the father of man
Don’t cross his way, he’s part of the plan
I am that Child, but so are you
You’ve just forgotten, just lost the clue
Inside your heart sits a Seer
Between his thoughts, he can hear
A melody simple but wondrously clear
The music of life, so precious, so dear
….Deep inside, you know it’s true
Just find that child, it’s hiding in you.
SO THE ELEPHANTS MARCH
A curious fact about elephants is this: In order to survive, they mustn’t fall down. Every other animal can stumble and get back up again. But an elephant always stands up, even to sleep. If one of the herd slips and falls, it is helpless. It lies on its side, a prisoner of its own weight. Although the other elephants will press close around it in distress and try to lift it up again, there isn’t usually much they can do. With slow heaving breaths, the fallen elephant dies. The others stand vigil, then slowly move on.
This is what I learned from nature books, but I wonder if they are right. Isn’t there another reason why elephants can’t fall down? Perhaps they have decided not to. Not to fall down is their mission.
… But the elephants’ most important message is in their movement. For they know that to live is to move. Dawn after dawn, age after age, the herds march on, one great mass of life that never falls down, an unstoppable force of peace.
Innocent animals, they do not suspect that after all this time, they will fall from a bullet by the thousands. They will lie in the dust, mutilated by our shameless greed. The great males fall first, so that their tusks can be made into trinkets. Then the females fall, so that men may have trophies. The babies run screaming from the smell of their own mothers’ blood, but it does them no good to run from the guns. Silently, with no one to nurse them, they will die, too, and all their bones bleach in the sun.
In the midst of so much death, the elephants could just give up. All they have to do is drop to the ground. That is enough. They don’t need a bullet: Nature has given them the dignity to lie down and find their rest. But they remember their ancient pact and their pledge to us, which is sacred.
So the elephants march on, and every tread beats out words in the dust: “Watch, learn, love. Watch, learn, love.” Can you hear them? One day in shame, the ghosts of ten thousand lords of the plains will say, “We do not hate you. Don’t you see at last? We were willing to fall, so that you, dear small ones, will never fall again.”
I was walking along the beach one winter day. Looking down, I saw a wave push a feather up on the sand. It was a sea gull feather stained with oil. I picked it up and felt the dark slick film on my fingers. I couldn’t help wondering if the bird had survived. Was it all right out there? I knew it wasn’t.
I felt sad to think how carelessly we treat our home. The earth we all share is not just a rock tossed through space but a living, nurturing being. She cares for us; she deserves our care in return. We’ve been treating Mother Earth the way some people treat a rental apartment. Just trash it and move on.
But there’s no place to move on to now. We have brought our garbage and our wars and our racism to every part of the world. We must begin to clean her up, and that means cleaning up our own hearts and minds first, because they led us to poison our dear planet. The sooner we change, the easier it will be to feel our love for Mother Earth and the love she so freely gives back to us.
THAT ONE IN THE MIRROR
… One thing I know : I never feel alone when I am earth’s child. I do not have to cling to my personal survival as long as I realize, day by day, that all of life is in me. The children and their pain; the children and their joy. The ocean swelling under the sun; the ocean weeping with black oil. The animals hunted in fear; the animals bursting with the sheer joy of being alive.
This sense of “the world in me” is how I always want to feel. That one in the mirror has his doubts sometimes. So I am tender with him. Every morning I touch the mirror and whisper, “Oh, friend, I hear a dance. Will you be my partner? Come.”
Those are moments we’re one with God
All is well, nothing is odd
In silent reflection
We feel our perfection
We are the source, we are the crucible
Nothing can hurt us, for we are invincible
There is no sin, there is no sinner
We can only win, we have felt the glimmer
In the bliss
We’re floating awhile
Those are moments when babies smile
WISE LITTLE GIRL
I know a wise little girl who cannot walk. She is confined to a wheelchair, and she may spend the rest of her life there, since her doctors hold out almost no hope of ever making her paralyzed legs better.
When I first met this little girl, she flashed me a smile that burned me with its blazing happiness. How open she was! She wasn’t hiding out from self-pity or asking for approval or protecting herself from a sense of shame. She felt completely innocent about not being able to walk, like a puppy that has no idea if it is a mongrel or a champion of the breed.
She made no judgments about herself. That was her wisdom.
I have seen the same wise look in other children, “poor” children as society sees them, because they lack food, money, secure homes, or healthy bodies. By the time they reach a certain age, many of these children grasp just how bad their situation is. The way that adults look at their lives robs them of that first innocence that is so precious and rare. They begin to believe that they should feel bad about themselves; that this is “right.”
But this wise little girl, being only four, floated above pity and shame like a carefree sparrow. She took my heart in her hands and made it as weightless as a cotton puff, so that it was impossible for me to even begin to think, “What a terrible thing.” All I saw was light and love. In their innocence, very young children know themselves to be light and love. If we will allow them, they can teach us to see ourselves the same way.
One sparkle from a little girl’s gaze contains the same knowledge that Nature implants at the heart of every life-form. It is life’s silent secret, not to be put into words. It just knows. It knows peace and how not to hurt. It knows that even the least breath is a gesture of gratitude to the Creator. It smiles to be alive, waiting patiently for ages of ignorance and sorrow to pass away like a mirage.
I see this knowledge showing itself in the eyes of children more and more, which makes me think that their innocence is growing stronger. They are going to disarm us adults, and that will be enough to disarm the world. They feel no reason to spoil the environment, and so the environment will be cleaned up without a quarrel. A wise little girl told me the future when she looked at me, so full of peace and contentment. I rejoice in trusting her above all the experts.