When I heard the news of Michael Jackson’s death yesterday, I thought I would be the last person on earth to write about it.  I have not been a fan of his music since Thriller ( I was ten when that album was released) and have felt deeply critical and resentful of his actions as a father, especially since he was such a celebrity and had so much influence in the world.  I was not happy that he died, rather I felt almost nothing.  This lack of feeling prompted me to ask myself, “where is my compassion, my empathy for a fellow human being?”  After all, I am a psychotherapist and much of what I do with and for clients involves feeling compassion for them when they are too full of self-judgement to feel it for themselves.  It is easy to see why I felt disturbed by my lack of compassion for Michael Jackson, a man who was known to have suffered abuse as a child and who so obviously wanted the approval of many, if not the whole world.

I think this lack of compassion occurs in all of us.  Instead of compassion we feel judgment.  Why?  Maybe because it’s more comfortable to feel judgment than compassion.  Having compassion opens us up to the pain and suffering of another human being.  Judgment on the other hand, can tempt us into the illusion of feeling superior and powerful.  I am not a child-molester.  I am not addicted to pain killers.  Therefore, I must be better than him.  Why should I feel compassion for someone who has hurt others? I believe that judgment, while being less obviously painful, is more damaging to our soul.  It separates us from others and when we are separate we are less connected to life. 

If it’s easier and less painful to feel judgmental, however, then how do we get from judgment to compassion?  Psychologist and author, Daniel Goleman, has this to say:

“The act of compassion begins with full attention, just as rapport does. You have to really see the person. If you see the person, then naturally, empathy arises. If you tune into the other person, you feel with them. If empathy arises, and if that person is in dire need, then empathic concern can come. You want to help them, and then that begins a compassionate act. So I’d say that compassion begins with attention.”

This is how I suddenly discovered my compassion for Michael Jackson.  A friend passed along a link to this article written by Rabbi Schmuley Boteach, who was one of Michael’s friends.  For some reason I felt compelled to read this particular commentary on Michael’s life.  And the result was unlooked-for compassion.  To peer into Michael’s life through the lense of someone who knew and loved him allowed me to open up to his pain and the longing he felt to be loved and accepted.   How sad that he was taught at such an impressionable age to equate love with the admiration of strangers.  How tragic that this lesson was beaten into him by his own father.

So I now feel compassion for a man I previously felt only disdain for.  It doesn’t change the facts, as I see them, that he was responsible for hurting others and for setting a bad example.   And that’s the really tricky part about feeling compassion for others; it can be painful to witness another’s suffering AND they are still responsible for the injuries they inflict on themselves and others.  Compassion can inspire us to help someone, as it seems it did Rabbi Schmuley, but the burden of accepting the challenge to change rests on the individual who is suffering.

In the end, I don’t feel better now that I feel compassion for Michael Jackson, I merely feel humbled.  That seems somehow more human that judgment.