With the rest of the world, I woke up yesterday morning to the news that beloved rock icon David Bowie had joined the celestial choir after facing cancer for the previous 18 months. What amazed me was that he had managed to keep the diagnosis under wraps from all but those closest to him. He had just turned 69 and released his magnum opus; his final gift to the world-  Blackstar.  A video of the piece called Lazarus shows a dying Bowie in bed with beady black eyes glued to bandages around his head. A man emerges from an armoire and hides under the bed, with hands reaching up as if to pull him down. Bowie stretches upward and appears to be levitating as he calls out, “Look up here, I’m in heaven.”  The video is scattered with all types of symbolism; among them a high heel shoe (Bowie’s style of dress included them), and at the end of the song, he enters the armoire that is reminiscent of a vertical coffin as he closes the door.

The one who was born David Jones in Brixton- a rough and tumble neighborhood in London (that also birthed my long time mentor who at 81 loves her homeboy’s music) changed the world as he morphed into various permutations from Ziggy Stardust to the Thin White Duke and the Man from Mars. His raw sexuality oozed from his pores both on and off stage, according to stories shared by those who knew him personally and catapulted him into stardom.  He clearly enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh.

Not sure if this is true, but I recall hearing that prior to his fame, he wanted to be a rock star more than anything and evoked the ‘act as if’ mentality. He dressed the part, hung out with those who were living the life he desired; being seen as one of them and then he was ‘discovered’. Of course, he had the musical chops and stage presence to back it up. I have used that as an example in my own life, doing my best to embody the life of a transformational teacher and writer, as if I was already as successful as I desired to be. What would that success look like?  Being well compensated for doing what I was born to do; teaching and writing about the psycho-spiritual and offering people a view of what life could be like for them if they too lived full out in the face of fear and thoughts of lack and limitation. There are times when my own gremlins creep up around me, but, like Bowie, have been able to overcome them.

I have followed his creations throughout the years and delighted in the various permutations of the man and his music. From the dance-ables to the sing-along-ables. From the other worldly to the sweet. The most unusual mashup was a holiday favorite with Bing Crosby as they offered Little Drummer Boy/Peace on Earth. Together with John Lennon, he penned the iconic Fame and on stage with Freddy Mercury, he rocked out to Under Pressure. I imagine that there is quite a party in heaven, since all three of his collaborators preceded his arrival.

After his passing, he was quoted as having said, “I don't know where I'm going from here, but I promise it won't be boring.”  It is a certainty that he will be shaking things up on his next stage.