Thoughts on genius, rhythm, play and MJ
I think I've said this before in different ways in the past (concerning writing I think), but I suspect a person's 'genius' is commensurate to the degree to which they yield to the spiritual forces that move them. To do this is a feat of paying attention, of listening to those forces -- which requires a sensitive constitution to begin with of course -- and also blocking out the cheap worldly distractions: competing with others, seeking money and fame or power over others. It also requires the ability to block out the criticism of others and the threat of shame. Michael clearly had these abilities in spades: he tuned in to the forces without being ashamed -- of his guilelessness, his enthusiasm, his childlike nature -- and without worrying what others would think, or whether investing himself in the ways he did would pay off. He had no fear to tune in. Although it must be said that he always identified as a singer and performer, at least from about age six, and identifying as something always helps one be that thing. Being known for being that thing, as a public artist, also has a snowball effect: things lead to things. Nonetheless, despite the help he had, it is still a test to continually ‘tune in’ and block out the nefarious distractions and temptations of the world. I find I do my best, most free work when I tune in to the forces without fear or trepidation. Fortune favours the brave, and faith is a major component of bravery. Maintaining faith is a constant, daily exercise. When I watch him dancing, I see a person in ecstasy. One movement swiftly leads to another; he is fully in the moment with no thought of anything outside of what he is doing. Tuning in like this, to the dictates of the felt rhythm, is highly conducive to improvisation, which he apparently did do on stage. Michael said something really interesting about the distinction between a good dancer and a great dancer: the good is counting in her head; he says he can see her counting. A great dancer doesn't count, she feels the music. The music makes her move; she's not thinking. The very same thing happens to me when I tune in; the movements come spontaneously and they are good and interesting. They are completely unthought; the music makes me do them, as it made him do them too. Such free and yielding movement reminds me of the way I did things as a child -- then, there were no thoughts about reception or perception by others; it was pure play.
