Since Michael Jackson’s untimely death last week we’ve been inundated with stories and speculations about his life. I’m in the generation that grew up with Michael. We watched him as a child singing on TV with his brothers, ABC and Rockin’ Robin, and tried our best to copy his moves. As kids we sang along, mesmerized by the upbeat tunes that played on the radio as we sat in the backseat of our parents’ cars. We went through the awkward teen stage in our own lives, set to a disco soundtrack. And we came into our own just as Michael did with Thriller, finding our groove, and defining ourselves.

Celebrity is a creature all its own. We have a perceived access to these individuals, we feel as though we know them, even though we don’t. I remember getting my dad to buy me Tiger Beat magazine, which regularly featured either the Jacksons or the Osmonds or both on the cover. Today, celebrity access is widespread and instantaneous. We can follow just about anyone on twitter. Websites break news before the news stations can get a camera crew out to the scene.

When I was just two years old my mother was grocery shopping and I was sitting in the cart. One of the managers must have made an announcement that President Kennedy had been shot. I remember my mother getting very flustered, and taking me out of the cart to go home. She was trying to explain to me what was going on — and I could feel that something was terribly wrong. This was such an emotional event that many of us remember exactly where we were and what we were doing when we got the news. I also remember where I was when I found out that Princess Diana died. She and I were about the same age, and we both got married and had two boys at about the same time, so I always felt a connection with her. And now I’ll always remember when I heard that Michael Jackson died. I got an e-mail alert that Michael had suffered cardiac arrest and was being transported to the hospital. I felt troubled, and confused. Then I drove to pick up my mail, and as I got in the car to come home, I heard on the radio an official confirmation that Michael had passed away. The radio station was playing his music in tribute. My heart dropped.

What is it about celebrities that gets us so engrossed in their lives and deaths? My favorite Michael Jackson song, and ironically it is one that he didn’t write, is “Man in the Mirror” and I think this helps to explain a lot of what we are going through.

Whenever we look at another person and feel a strong emotion, there’s something about that person that we see in ourselves. Whether we love it or hate it, people act as mirrors for each one of us. We are examples for each other, of what we judge to be good and bad, best or worst. The qualities in another person that draw us or repel us we can also see in ourselves to some degree, in some way. Celebrities, with a kind of larger than life image, end up being archetypes. Elvis Presley, Marilyn Monroe, and now Michael Jackson might be thought of as the tortured artist. Talented, creative, expressive, and yet at the same time uncomfortable and somewhat out of place. Each turned to various distractions to try to “normalize” their feelings. Both Elvis and Michael basically created their own worlds in Graceland and Neverland. These were places where they could fit in, surrounded by people and things that made them feel at home.

If we are caught up in the coverage of Michael Jackson’s life and death that is going on right now, maybe it is because we have some of that archetype in ourselves. Maybe we feel misunderstood. Maybe we seek to create, and be heard the way Michael was. Maybe we long for our childhoods, for simpler days. What can we do? We can take out own advice, look at that man in the mirror and change our ways… “If you want to make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and make that change.”

In his 50 years Michael Jackson lived a very full life. He had successes and failures; he had conquests and controversies. As much as we feel we might know him from his concerts, albums, testimonies and interviews, we don’t really know Michael Jackson the person. The best we can do is to know ourselves. That’s all we can ever really do.

Michael Jackson’s death reminds us that time is fleeting. Just a few months ago many of the items taken from Neverland were on display in Los Angeles. I heard about this and went. At the last minute I decided to take my camera. I didn’t know if I would be able to take it inside, but I was allowed to, and I made a video of what I saw. It’s very interesting, and gives us some glimpse of insight into Michael Jackson’s life.
Michael Jackson’s Neverland Collection

The movie “It’s Complicated” opened Christmas Day. Given the rave reviews plastered all over full-page newspaper ads, and the fun trailer that showed promise of an actual adult comedy, I was very much looking forward to seeing it. Meryl Streep is an amazing actress, and I have loved every movie she has ever done – until this one.

The biggest problem with “It’s Complicated” is the premise. A long-married couple, divorced for ten years, has moved on with their lives. The woman, Jane, played by Meryl Streep, runs a successful business and has good friends. The man, Jake, played by Alec Baldwin, has remarried and is raising a child. Their shared children are now adults, navigating the world rather successfully themselves.

And yet, one night the two get drunk and have sex. Hilarious? I think not. This isn’t complicated, it’s adultery, and it’s not funny.

To make matters worse, rather than chalking up the experience to poor judgment and a bad mistake, the two continue their dalliance. This smart businesswoman confides in her friends, who egg her on. She seeks the advice of her therapist, and in the movie’s one truly honest moment she wonders why she has chosen to have this affair. Jane has a long list of reasons that she has considered, including revenge and loneliness. She begs the therapist to tell her what to do, and he basically gives her permission to continue the affair, saying: “What could it hurt?”

It seems a renewed sex life has turned this once-wise woman into somewhat of an adolescent as she sneaks around, lies to her children, and convinces herself that she needs to be stoned on marijuana to have a good time.

Meanwhile, Jake is facing a kind of second mid-life crisis. He obviously hasn’t learned from his past experiences, because he is once again the cad, the philanderer. The child he is raising with his new wife isn’t biologically his, and he uses this as an excuse to shirk any responsibility. He lies to both his wife and his ex-wife to get what he wants. This man is a narcissist, and toxic to both women, although he has them blinded by his charms.

So what could it hurt? The woman is humiliated and almost loses a chance at real love. The man loses the respect of his children. The children are confused and afraid of additional pain. The future son-in-law is put in a position where he must lie to his fiancé. The current wife realizes she has been lied to and cheated on by the same man she is planning a family with. The woman’s potential boyfriend gets his hopes and dreams dashed just when he’s finally opened his heart to someone. And a little boy, who is finally bonding with his stepfather, may lose the only adult male in his life.

There may be some jokes in this movie, but it is not a comedy – it is a tragedy, a commentary about values.

At the end of the movie, Jane and Jake sit and talk, inches away from each other, but miles apart. There is a reason they were divorced in the first place. She says it wasn’t all his fault. He apologizes.

What the characters in “It’s Complicated” really need, and want, is closure. But do they have to go through all that they go through, and hurt other people and themselves to get it? Well, there wouldn’t be a movie if these characters didn’t mess up. It’s the slipping on the banana peel that gets the laugh. But in real life, the answer is no.

Closure is a process, one that we can move through maturely and deliberately. We can’t get closure from any other person, only from ourselves. And once we have it, we can move forward with our lives in a positive and powerful way – and not look back.

My new book is CLOSURE and the Law of Relationship: Endings as New Beginnings