THE KING OF POP ON THE OTHER SIDE
Inside the Night, a Researcher Says Michael Jackson Reached Out from Beyond Death
Part II: The First Session
By Janet Kira Lessin, Author, With Claudia Lenore, Contributor
The futon sat open in the living room, pillows stacked for comfort, the last bruise of sunset bleeding through the windows. It was the evening of June 25, 2009. Less than 24 hours earlier, Michael Jackson’s heart had stopped beating inside a rented mansion in Holmby Hills. The world already knew. The tribunes had already begun.
Janet Kira Lessin, 55, a veteran consciousness researcher and radio host, stretched out on the futon while her husband, therapist Dr. Sasha Lessin, settled into his chair beside her. They had conducted hundreds of sessions in this room—hypnotherapy, Voice Dialogue, catharsis work, contact with what they describe as higher-dimensional beings. But nothing they had done before prepared them for what happened next.
“This wasn’t a session I planned,” Lessin says now. “I wasn’t sitting down to channel Michael Jackson. The whole day had been surreal—I’d been trying to avoid a deposition, and then the news broke, and something inside me just said: He needs help.”
A Practitioner’s Protocol
Lessin does not describe herself as a casual dabbler. She has spent decades developing what she calls her “contact protocol”—a disciplined method for entering altered states and inviting communication with nonphysical beings. The process begins with deep breathing and a sustained vocalization—an extended “OOOOMMMMM”—while she visualizes the Ouroboros, the ancient symbol of cyclical renewal. She describes ascending above Earth’s atmosphere in her mind’s eye, extending an invitation, and waiting for what she calls a “tickle”—a subtle energetic presence making contact.
“I open hailing frequencies,” she says, borrowing the phrase from Star Trek with a half-smile. “I invite contact, but only from beings on the light side. Then I wait. When someone touches me, I say ‘okay,’ and they speak through me.”
Sasha Lessin, who has facilitated thousands of therapeutic sessions over a career spanning decades, gave the standard instruction he always gives before channeling work: “Allow Michael to use your voice box without taking you over. We don’t want possession—just channeling. You stay in control.”
Janet closed her eyes. She began to breathe. She started her OOOOMMMMM.
And then everything went sideways.
“Hit Like a Brick”
Michael Jackson did not follow the protocol.
Janet’s body launched upright from a prone position—an involuntary, full-body lurch she had not initiated. She pitched forward onto her knees. And then she began to sob.
“Not crying,” she clarifies. “Not tearing up. This was full-body, soul-shattering sobbing that came from somewhere so deep I couldn’t breathe. The grief was so profound I felt like I was drowning in it.”
Through her throat came a voice—deeper than her own, carrying what she describes as Michael’s timbre blended with hers. It repeated one phrase, over and over: “I’m dead. I can’t believe I’m dead.”
In more than four decades of contact work, Lessin says, she has never experienced anything comparable. Not with other spirits. Not with what she describes as extraterrestrial beings. Not with any entity from any dimension she has encountered. The force and desperation of what she experienced that night stands alone in her career.
The Body as Vessel
Sasha had prepared the room the way he always did: fresh water on the side table, tissues within reach, a clear path to the bathroom. As Michael’s grief poured through Janet’s body, the practical demands multiplied. She suffers from chronic sinusitis, and the intensity of the weeping overwhelmed her airways. Liquid streamed from her eyes and nose. She struggled to breathe.
“I had to pace things from my end,” Janet recalls. “Blow my nose. Catch my breath. Sip water. Sasha managed from his end—gentle guidance, tissues, checking in without breaking the contact.”
The wailing continued for hours. Janet, at 55, bore the full physical toll of channeling what she describes as a newly deceased soul in complete, desperate panic. She believes a higher energy sustained her through the ordeal, preventing the kind of collapse that the sheer physical exhaustion should have caused.
“My body needed to be the vessel for his release,” she says simply. “But it was brutal.”
Farrah’s Embrace
Then the session shifted. In her inner vision, Janet saw something she had not expected: Farrah Fawcett, cradling Michael Jackson the way Mary cradles Jesus in Michelangelo’s Pietà.
The timing, she notes, was significant. Fawcett had died that same morning—June 25, 2009, at 9:28 a.m. Pacific Time—after a long battle with cancer. Jackson followed just five hours later, at 2:26 p.m. In Lessin’s account, Fawcett had arrived first in the transitional space between life and death and had caught Jackson when he crossed over.
“I caught him,” Janet channeled in what she describes as Farrah’s voice—softer, more grounded than Michael’s. “He fell into my arms. He was so upset, so shocked. I didn’t know what to do except hold him and let him cry.”
Now, in Lessin’s telling, Fawcett stepped aside, entrusting Michael to the Lessins for the deeper cathartic release he needed.
Walking the Bardo
Through what she describes as a dual consciousness—channeling both Michael and Farrah simultaneously—Lessin became aware of the space around them. She recognized it as the Bardo, the Tibetan Buddhist term for the transitional state between death and rebirth.
She perceived a vast, dimly lit expanse populated by countless presences—souls, she says, who had died but had not yet found their way forward. Some did not know they were dead. Others were too traumatized to accept it. Still others wandered, simply lost.
“Look around,” Farrah’s voice tells her.
What happened next surprised even Lessin. She took Michael’s hand and walked with him through the Bardo—navigating a realm of the dead without dying herself. She credits a lifetime of unconscious out-of-body travel during sleep, combined with her reading of Robert Monroe’s pioneering work on conscious out-of-body experiences, for giving her the instincts to do what she did not know she could do.
Throughout the process, she maintains what she describes as three simultaneous perspectives: managing her physical body, holding Michael’s hand in the Bardo, and observing the entire experience from a witness consciousness positioned, as she puts it, “up on my shelf on the upper right side.”
When she needed to use the bathroom—and she did, multiple times over those hours—Sasha guided her physically while she maintained the energetic connection. It was, she says, a delicate negotiation between two realities happening at once.
A Mission from the Other Side
After hours of sustained catharsis, Michael’s grief finally quieted. Not resolved—but expressed enough that he could breathe.
Farrah’s voice returns, clear and direct: “This is your work. Please help them. Learn how to help these souls stuck in the Bardo. Learn how to train others all over the world to do this work. There are so many who need guidance in this transition.”
Lessin understood the statement as a commission—a calling from a woman who had been dead less than a day, recruiting two living therapists to serve as counselors for the newly deceased.
The Parents Step Through
Then the space shifted again. A door opened in the dimly lit room of her inner vision, and figures walked through, backlit at first, then stepping closer.
Janet recognized them immediately: her parents, June and Bill Thompson. And beside them, Sasha’s parents, Irving and Irma Lessin.
They did not look the way she remembered them. They appeared young—roughly 25 to 30 years old—healthy, vibrant, radiating what she can only describe as aliveness. They did not speak. They simply waved.
“We never end,” Farrah’s voice says softly. “Death isn’t the end. They’re alive—whatever that means on the other side. Your parents want you to know that.”
Janet wept again. This time, she says, the tears carried joy.
Farewell and an Appointment
Michael’s voice came through one final time, apologetic: “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time.”
Sasha answers firmly: “Nonsense. This is our pleasure. We can do more if you need us to. Come back next weekend.”
“I would love to come back,” Michael says.
Farrah spoke last. She saw her own family waiting. She entrusted Michael to the Lessins’ care and said goodbye—gently, finally. Janet felt Farrah’s presence lift and move away, crossing over to wherever the next chapter led.
Michael withdrew more slowly, but the appointment had been set: next Saturday.
Janet opened her eyes. The sunset had long since disappeared. Tissues lay scattered across the futon. Her voice was hoarse. Her body ached with an exhaustion she had never felt before.
Sasha looked at her across the quiet room.
“Well,” he says. “I guess we have a new client.”
They both laugh—the slightly unhinged laughter that comes when something too large to process has just happened, and the only alternative to laughing is sitting in stunned silence forever.
What Came Next
Michael Jackson’s body would not be buried for more than two months—not until September 3, 2009. During that entire span, Janet Lessin says, he returned every Saturday for sessions. Week after week, the King of Pop came back to their living room for what can only be described as grief therapy for the dead.
And in those ten Saturdays, Janet discovered she could do something she had never imagined: take a spirit by the hand and show him, in real time, how much the living world still loved him.
— — —
Continued in Part III: Ten Saturdays with Michael — Showing Him Love Around the World
About the Author
Janet Kira Lessin is an author, radio host, and consciousness researcher who has worked as a bridge between worlds for over five decades. She hosts Aquarian Radio and presents at conferences including Contact in the Desert. This account represents her lived experience with what she describes as unprecedented spirit contact, shared in the spirit of expanding our understanding of consciousness beyond physical death.
Claudia Lenore is a contributor and narrative journalist.
When Michael Jackson Saved Me From a Deposition
A True Account of Spirit Contact on the Day the King of Pop Died
Part II: The First Session — When Michael Hit Me Like a Brick
By Janet Kira Lessin
Contributor: Minerva Monroe
On the evening of June 25, 2009—the day the world learned that Michael Jackson was dead—Dr. Janet Kira Lessin and her husband, anthropologist Dr. Sasha Lessin, pulled a futon into the center of their living room.
Not a clinical couch. Not a sterile office. A simple futon layered with pillows, positioned near wide windows where sunset and sunrise could be watched in silence.
They had worked in this room hundreds of times before—hypnotherapy, Voice Dialogue, catharsis sessions, explorations of altered states. But this night was different.
They were attempting contact a man who had been dead for less than 24 hours.
The entire world was grieving. And according to Lessin, so was he.
A Contact Protocol Years in the Making
Dr. Lessin is not new to altered-state work. For decades, she has practiced what she calls “contact protocol”—a structured method of reaching nonphysical consciousness. The procedure is deliberate and refined.
She closes her eyes. Breathes deeply. Tones a sustained “Ooooommmm.” Visualizes the ouroboros—the ancient serpent devouring its own tail, symbol of eternity. She imagines herself rising above Earth’s atmosphere and opening what she describes, borrowing from Star Trek, as “hailing frequencies.”
Only light-side contact is invited.
When connection occurs, she feels a subtle internal “touch”—a tickle of presence.
Then she says, “Okay.”
And the voice comes through.
The process, she says, is controlled. Measured. Manageable.
That night, it wasn’t.
“He Hit Me Like a Brick”
Sasha offered his standard grounding instruction: “Allow Michael to use your voice box without taking you over. You’re in control.”
Lessin closed her eyes.
She began her tone.
What happened next, she says, broke every pattern she had ever known.
Her body bolted upright without conscious intent. She moved from lying down to kneeling in a single uncontrolled motion.
Then came sobbing—violent, full-body sobbing that wracked her chest and throat.
“This wasn’t crying,” she later explained. “It was soul-level grief.”
Through her voice came words in a tone deeper than her own.
“I’m dead. I can’t believe I’m dead.”
Lessin had conducted hundreds of spirit contacts over decades. None had entered with this intensity.
“This was panic,” she says. “Complete and desperate.”
Hours of Catharsis
The sobbing did not stop.
Sasha managed the physical side of the session—water within reach, tissues, steady verbal guidance. Lessin, prone to severe sinusitis, struggled to breathe between waves of grief.
The release lasted hours.
At 55 years old, she says her body bore the strain even though the grief felt external. She describes a surge of sustaining energy moving through her—enough to keep her conscious and upright despite exhaustion.
“It was brutal,” she recalls.
Then, the internal scene shifted.
Farrah Fawcett Appears
Lessin reports seeing actress Farrah Fawcett cradling Michael Jackson in a pose reminiscent of Michelangelo’s Pietà.
Fawcett had died earlier that same morning, at 9:28 a.m. Pacific Time. Jackson was pronounced dead at 2:26 p.m. Pacific Time.
“I caught him,” Lessin says Fawcett communicated. “He fell into my arms.”
The energy shifted—softer, steadier. Lessin describes Fawcett as holding Jackson through his initial shock before “handing him over” for deeper catharsis.
The Bardo
What unfolded next, Lessin says, resembled what Tibetan Buddhism calls the Bardo—the transitional state between death and rebirth.
The space appeared dim, expansive, populated by countless presences. Some were unaware they were dead. Others are confused or traumatized.
Here, Lessin says she did something she had never consciously attempted before.
She took Michael Jackson’s hand.
And traveled with him.
Drawing on years of spontaneous out-of-body experiences—and knowledge gained from Robert Monroe’s writings—she says she navigated the transitional realm while remaining anchored to her physical body.
She describes three simultaneous perspectives:
- Managing her breathing, physical exhaustion, and bodily needs.
- Guiding Jackson through grief in the Bardo.
- Observing the entire process from an elevated “witness” position.
At no point, she says, did fear arise.
“I just needed to help him.”
A Mission Delivered
After hours, the intensity subsided. The sobbing quieted.
Lessin says Farrah Fawcett delivered a message:
“Help them. Learn how to guide souls stuck in this transition. Train others. There are many who need assistance.”
The words felt like a directive.
Then, another shift.
The Parents
A doorway appeared in the dim landscape.
Through it walked four figures—Lessin’s parents and Sasha’s parents. All deceased.
But they did not appear aged or ill. They looked 25 to 30 years old—vibrant, healthy, luminous.
They did not speak. They waved.
“We never end,” Fawcett’s presence communicated. “Death isn’t the end.”
Lessin began crying again—this time with relief.
“I’m Sorry.”
As the session wound down, Jackson’s voice softened.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time.”
Sasha responded matter-of-factly: “You’re welcome back.”
Jackson agreed to return the following Saturday.
Fawcett withdrew first. Then Jackson.
Lessin opened her eyes. The room reassembled around her. Sunset had passed. Tissues lay scattered. Her throat was raw.
Sasha broke the silence.
“Well. I guess we have a new client.”
They laughed—the kind of laughter that follows an experience too large for immediate comprehension.
What Came Next
Michael Jackson was not buried until September 3, 2009—more than two months after his death.
According to Lessin, he returned every Saturday during that period for what she describes as grief therapy sessions. Over time, she says, she learned to guide him through a realization he had not grasped at death:
The world loved him.
Those sessions, she notes, would change her understanding of death, consciousness, and the role of the living in assisting the newly deceased.
That story continues in Part III.
Dr. Sasha Alex Lessin, Ph.D.
Therapist • Counselor • Hypnotherapist • Anthropologist • Researcher
Dr. Sasha Alex Lessin, Ph.D., is a therapist, counselor, and hypnotherapist with decades of experience guiding individuals through deep emotional processing, altered states, and transformative healing work. Trained in anthropology at UCLA, Dr. Lessin brings a rare combination of academic rigor and experiential insight to his practice, bridging psychology, consciousness research, and cross-cultural spiritual traditions.
Throughout his career, Sasha has facilitated thousands of therapeutic sessions, specializing in hypnotherapy, regression work, Voice Dialogue, trauma release, and expanded-state integration. His approach is grounded, structured, and protective, ensuring that clients remain centered and in control as they navigate powerful emotional or transpersonal experiences.
Known for his calm presence and steady demeanor, Sasha serves as an anchor during intense sessions. He emphasizes containment, consent, and safety, whether working with grief, past-life exploration, archetypal psychology, or profound cathartic release. His therapeutic philosophy combines compassion with disciplined facilitation, creating a stable framework within which deep healing can occur.
In addition to his clinical and counseling work, Dr. Lessin is an author and researcher whose anthropological background informs his understanding of myth, consciousness, and human development across cultures. He has presented at conferences, co-authored multiple books, and contributed to long-form research into expanded states of awareness.
Within the sessions described in When Michael Jackson Saved Me From a Deposition, Sasha’s role was pivotal. As facilitator and grounding presence, he ensured physical stability, emotional containment, and structured dialogue during unprecedented altered-state experiences. His experience as a therapist and hypnotherapist provided the container in which profound grief, catharsis, and integration could safely unfold.
At his core, Dr. Sasha Lessin is a healer and guide—bringing steadiness, intelligence, and deep compassion to every space he enters.
Dr. Janet Kira Lessin has worked as a researcher and practitioner in consciousness studies for over five decades. This account reflects her lived experience on June 25, 2009, and the weeks that followed.
Minerva Monroe is a contributing writer and researcher specializing in consciousness studies, historical context, and investigative narrative.
When Michael Jackson Saved Me From a Deposition
The Pietà of the Bardo: Inside the First Spirit Session with Michael Jackson
By Janet Kira Lessin, Gemma Genesis, contributor
In the quiet of a living room, far removed from the clinical coldness of a therapy office, the veil between worlds didn’t just thin—it tore. On the evening of June 25, 2009, less than twenty-four hours after the world lost its most iconic performer, an unprecedented diplomatic mission between the living and the dead began.
While the global public mourned through television screens, Sasha Alex Lessin, Ph.D., and I prepared for a contact session that would defy every protocol I had refined over decades of interdimensional work.
The Breach of Protocol
My standard operating procedure is a disciplined, gentle ascent: deep rhythmic breathing, the chanting of OOOOMMMMM, and the visualization of the ancient Ouroboros. Usually, spirit contact begins as a “tickle”—a subtle, polite “hailing frequency” from the light side of the void.
Michael Jackson did not knock. He arrived like a physical impact.
The moment Sasha granted permission for the entity to use my voice box, my body was propelled upright from a reclining position by a force I can only describe as a “brick wall of energy.” What followed was not mere crying; it was soul-shattering, full-body sobbing that bypassed my conscious mind.
“I’m dead,” the voice lamented through my throat, a harrowing blend of my own timbre and Michael’s unmistakable, panicked cadence. “I can’t believe I’m dead.”
The Midwife of Grief: Farrah Fawcett’s Role
In the theater of my inner vision, a stunning and sacred image materialized: Farrah Fawcett, who had passed away only hours before Michael that same day, was cradling him. It was a modern-day Pietà, the blonde icon holding the King of Pop in the immediate shock of his transition.
“I caught him,” Farrah communicated, her energy serving as a grounded, maternal anchor to Michael’s frantic spirit. She had been waiting in the “in-between” and became the first point of contact for a soul too traumatized to realize his earthly journey had ended.
Navigating the Bardo
As the session unfolded over several grueling hours, I found myself operating across three simultaneous planes of consciousness:
- The Physical Vessel: Managing the biological demands of exhaustion, sinusitis, and the sheer physical toll of Michael’s channeled grief.
- The Bardo Navigator: Consciously walking through the Tibetan Buddhist “transitional state”—a dimly lit, vast realm of lost and wandering souls—while holding Michael’s hand.
- The Witness: Observing the entire surreal tableau from a “higher shelf” of consciousness.
This was “walking without dying.” Utilizing techniques pioneered by the Monroe Institute, I stayed tethered to my body while guiding Michael through the fog of his own disbelief.
A Mission from the Other Side
The session culminated in a startling vision of familial validation. The late parents of both Sasha and myself appeared—June and Bill Thompson, and Irving and Irma Lessin. They appeared not as the elderly people we remembered, but as vibrant, healthy versions of themselves in their twenties, waving a silent reassurance that life, in some form, is eternal.
Before she departed, Farrah Fawcett issued a directive that would redefine our life’s work: “Learn how to help these souls stuck in the Bardo. Train others. There are so many who need guidance.”
As the contact broke and the living room returned to focus, the weight of the evening settled in. Michael Jackson had requested to return. He needed a bridge, a therapist, and a friend to help him process a life—and a death—that the world would not let go of.
“I guess we have a new client,” Sasha remarked into the silence.
The sessions were only beginning. For the next ten Saturdays, while the world waited for a burial that wouldn’t happen for months, the King of Pop would return to the futon to learn how to cross over.
A True Account of Spirit Contact on the Day the King of Pop Died
Part II: The First Session – When Michael Hit Me Like a Brick
By Dr. Janet Kira Lessin
[Continued from Part I: June 25, 2009 – The Day Everything Changed]
That evening, we pulled out the futon in our living room. Not a therapy couch in some clinical office—a comfortable futon with pillows arranged for flexibility, in a room with a view where we could watch the sun set and rise. We’d done this work here hundreds of times over the years: hypnotherapy sessions, Voice Dialogue, catharsis work, contact with higher consciousness.
But this was different.
This time, we were attempting to reach someone who had died less than 24 hours ago. Someone the entire world was mourning.
My Contact Protocol
I’m not a beginner at this. I’ve been doing contact work—connecting with spirits, extraterrestrials, interdimensional beings—for decades. Sasha has various inductions he uses: the elevator going down to different ages, progressive relaxation, guided imagery. But after thousands of sessions, I don’t need much instruction anymore.
I just close my eyes and breathe deep.
I do a kind of OOOOMMMMM several times while envisioning making contact. I see the ouroboros of existence—the ancient symbol of the snake eating its tail, the eternal cycle. I’m careful to stay on the light side and not venture into the dark.
I open hailing frequencies, as they say in Star Trek. I invite contact, but only with beings on the light side.
Sometimes I travel up into space—right above the atmosphere—and poke my head into the void. I do several OOOOMMMMs until someone “touches me.” It’s like a tickle. A gentle presence making itself known.
Then I say, “Okay.”
And they talk through me.
That’s my protocol. Refined over decades. Gentle. Controlled. Manageable.
But Michael didn’t follow the protocol.
Hit Like a Brick
Sasha gave his standard permission: “Allow Michael to use your voice box without taking you over. We don’t want possession—just channeling. You’re in control.”
I closed my eyes. Breathed deep. Started my OOOOMMMMM.
And Michael slammed into me like a brick wall.
My entire body bolted upright from the lying position. I hadn’t intended to move—my body simply launched itself up and over, onto my knees.
And then I started sobbing.
Not crying. Not tearing up. Full-body, soul-shattering sobbing that came from somewhere so deep I couldn’t breathe. The grief was so profound, so overwhelming, I felt like I was drowning in it.
I’ve never had contact like that before or since.
Not with the hundreds of spirits I’ve worked with. Not with ETs. Not with any being from any dimension. Michael’s entry was unprecedented in its power and intensity.
“I’m dead,” the voice sobbed through my throat—deeper than my normal voice, Michael’s timbre mixed with mine. “I’m dead. I can’t believe I’m dead.”
Managing the Body
Sasha had prepared. He always does.
Fresh water sat on the side table within reach. I was crying so hard—Michael was crying so hard through me—that liquid was running everywhere. I have bad sinustitis, so I had to keep my nose clear. Sometimes it felt like I was drowning, like I couldn’t breathe.
I had to pace things from my end—blow my nose, catch my breath, sip water. Sasha managed from his end—gentle guidance, tissues, checking in without breaking the contact.
And Michael was in a panic. Complete, desperate panic.
The wailing went on. And on. And on.
Hours.
I was 55 years old—not young—and my body was doing the physical work even though it was Michael’s grief pouring through. Some higher, God-sent energy moved through me, keeping me from passing out or dying from the sheer physical exhaustion.
I needed to do this. My body needed to be the vessel for Michael’s release.
But it was brutal.
Farrah’s Embrace
In my inner vision, I saw them: Farrah Fawcett, holding Michael like Michelangelo’s Pietà—that famous sculpture of Mary cradling the adult Jesus after the crucifixion.
She had caught him when he died.
Farrah had died that morning—June 25, 2009, at 9:28 AM Pacific time. Michael died at 2:26 PM Pacific—just five hours later. She had been there, in that in-between space, when Michael arrived. And she had been ready.
“I caught him,” Farrah said through me, her energy different from Michael’s—softer, more grounded. “He fell into my arms. He was so upset, so shocked. I didn’t know what to do except hold him and let him cry.”
But now she was stepping aside, handing him to us for the deeper catharsis he needed.
The Bardo – Walking Without Dying
Through the dual consciousness of channeling both Michael and Farrah, I became aware of where they were: the Bardo—the Tibetan Buddhist term for the transitional state between death and rebirth.
“Look around,” Farrah said.
And I could see it. Vast. Dimly lit. Countless presences—souls who had died but hadn’t yet figured out how to move forward. Some didn’t know they were dead. Some were too traumatized to accept it. Some were simply lost.
Here’s what I didn’t know I could do:
I didn’t know I could take Michael’s hand and travel with him. I didn’t know I could walk through the Bardo without dying myself.
But I’ve been traveling out-of-body all my life—at night, in dreams, since childhood. And years ago, I’d read Robert Monroe’s books about conscious OBE (out-of-body experiences) from the Monroe Institute. That learning kicked in.
Now what I’d been doing unconsciously at night, I was doing consciously. By choice. Deliberately.
I took Michael’s hand, and we traveled.
Did I Risk My Life?
Could I have died? Could I have gotten stuck there? Could I have failed to come back to my body?
None of that occurred to me.
I just had to help this dear soul who had spent his whole life devoted to helping others.
When I had to pee—and I did, multiple times during those hours—Sasha would gently guide me to the bathroom, keeping his hand on my shoulder so I wouldn’t lose contact with Michael. It was a delicate process: maintaining my body while tracking Michael’s consciousness in another realm entirely.
And there I was—up on my shelf on the upper right side—watching this entire process unfold.
Three simultaneous perspectives:
- In my body (managing breathing, sinuses, bladder, physical exhaustion)
- With Michael in the Bardo (holding his hand, experiencing his grief, guiding him)
- Observing from above (the witness consciousness watching it all happen)
Farrah’s Mission
After hours of catharsis, Michael finally quieted. The grief had been released—not finished, but expressed enough that he could breathe.
Farrah spoke clearly: “This is your work. Please help them. Learn how to help these souls stuck in the Bardo. Learn how to train others all over the world to do this work. There are so many who need guidance in this transition.”
It was a mission. A calling.
Farrah Fawcett, in her first hours on the other side, was recruiting us to become therapists for the dead.
The Parents Appear
Then the space shifted.
A door opened in that dimly lit room, and figures walked through, backlit at first, then stepping closer.
My parents. Sasha’s parents. All four of them.
June and Bill Thompson—my mom and dad.
Irving and Irma Lessin—Sasha’s parents.
But they weren’t old. They weren’t sick. They looked about 25 to 30 years old—young, healthy, vibrant, alive in a way I’d never seen them.
They didn’t speak. They simply waved—a gesture of reassurance, of love, of “we’re here, and we’re okay.”
I started crying again, but this time with happiness.
“We never end,” Farrah said softly. “Death isn’t the end. They’re ALIVE—whatever that means on the other side. Your parents want you to know that.”
“I’m Sorry”
Michael’s voice came through, apologetic: “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time.”
“Nonsense,” Sasha said firmly. “This is our pleasure. We can do more if you need. Come back next weekend if you want.”
“I would,” Michael said, and I could feel his gratitude. “I would love to come back.”
Farrah spoke one last time: “I see my family waiting for me now. I’m going to leave Michael in your care—Dr. Lessin, Janet. I know he’s in good hands. Farewell. It was nice meeting you. Goodbye until you join us.”
And then she was gone. I felt her presence lift, move away, cross over.
Michael remained, but quieter now, more grounded.
“Until next Saturday,” he said.
And then he, too, withdrew.
I opened my eyes, blinking back into full consciousness. The living room. The view. The sunset had long since faded. Tissues scattered around me. My voice hoarse. My body exhausted beyond anything I’d ever experienced.
Sasha and I looked at each other in stunned silence.
“Well,” he said finally, “I guess we have a new client.”
We both started laughing—that slightly hysterical laughter that comes when something too big to process has just occurred.
Michael Jackson. Weekly appointments. Grief therapy for the King of Pop.
What had we just agreed to?
[To be continued in Part III: Ten Saturdays with Michael – Showing Him Love Around the World]
NOTE: What I didn’t know then was that Michael Jackson wouldn’t be buried for more than two months—not until September 3, 2009. During that time, he would come to us every single Saturday for therapy sessions. And I would learn to do something I’d never imagined: take a spirit by the hand and show him, in real-time, how much the world loved him.
Dr. Janet Kira Lessin has worked as a bridge between worlds for over five decades. This account represents her lived experience with unprecedented spirit contact and is shared in the spirit of expanding our understanding of consciousness beyond physical death.
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IMAGE TITLE: THE FUTON BETWEEN WORLDS
DESCRIPTION: Janet and Sasha in their living room at dusk—an intimate, cinematic “bridge between worlds” moment as spirit light gathers above them.
IMAGE PROMPT:
A photorealistic, cinematic wide-angle banner of a cozy living room at dusk with large windows glowing with deep sunset color. A comfortable futon centered in the room with pillows and tissues nearby. Janet lies on the futon, eyes closed in calm focus—attractive, youthful, looks about 40, long sandy-blonde hair with bangs, blue eyes, gentle features. Sasha sits beside her in a chair—handsome, youthful, longish brown hair, big expressive blue eyes, calm protective posture. A glass of water sits on a side table. Above them, a subtle, respectful veil of spirit presence forms—soft translucent human silhouettes made of warm light, gentle “ghosts,” not scary. Mood: investigative, sacred, compassionate. Ultra-detailed, sharp focus, cinematic lighting, soft natural colors, fantasy realism. Landscape 16:9.
AVOID / NEGATIVE: blurry, low-res, distorted faces, extra fingers, text, watermark, horror, demonic imagery, creepy grin, neon oversaturation
SECTION IMAGES
1) IMAGE TITLE: THE NIGHT AFTER THE NEWS
DESCRIPTION: The room is prepared—futon open, water and tissues ready, sunset fading—Janet and Sasha focused and steady.
IMAGE PROMPT:
Photorealistic cinematic living-room scene at twilight: futon unfolded with pillows arranged; side table with water glass, tissues, notebook, and small audio recorder. Janet (youthful, looks 40, long sandy-blonde hair with bangs, blue eyes, attractive) and Sasha (handsome, youthful, longish brown hair, expressive blue eyes) quietly prepare the space with calm seriousness. Sunset light glows through the windows; warm lamp light inside. Ultra-detailed, sharp focus, soft natural colors, emotional realism. Landscape 16:9.
AVOID: blur, messy chaos, text overlays, watermark
2) IMAGE TITLE: OPENING HAILING FREQUENCIES
DESCRIPTION: Janet begins her “OOOOMMMMM” protocol—ouroboros symbolism appears as subtle light geometry.
IMAGE PROMPT:
Close cinematic shot: Janet, lying on a futon, eyes closed, serene expression, long sandy-blonde hair with bangs, soft skin detail, blue eyes (closed but visible lashes/shape), youthful and attractive. A faint luminous ouroboros symbol appears in the air as elegant light geometry (abstract, tasteful). Soft dusk lighting, cinematic realism, ultra-detailed, sharp focus, soft natural colors. Landscape 16:9.
AVOID: cartoon snake, occult clutter, scary tone, blur, text
3) IMAGE TITLE: HIT LIKE A BRICK
DESCRIPTION: The jolt—Janet bolts upright; Sasha leans in to stabilize the moment.
IMAGE PROMPT:
High-impact cinematic moment in a living room: Janet suddenly bolts upright from a futon, caught mid-motion—youthful, attractive, sandy-blonde hair with bangs flying slightly, expression overwhelmed but human and real. Sasha, handsome and grounded, leans forward with calm readiness, one hand extended to support without restraining. A subtle translucent pressure-wave of light suggests energetic impact—not horror, not violence. Ultra-detailed, sharp focus, cinematic lighting, soft natural colors. Landscape 16:9.
AVOID: possession horror, demonic visuals, blur, motion smear, extra limbs
4) IMAGE TITLE: THE BODY AS VESSEL
DESCRIPTION: The physical toll—water, tissues, breathing—Sasha steady and compassionate.
IMAGE PROMPT:
Photorealistic cinematic interior: Janet kneels near the futon, respectfully portrayed in intense grief—no grotesque crying—just powerful emotion. Tissues and water within reach. Sasha calmly offers a tissue and steadies her with supportive presence, eyes kind and focused. Warm lamplight, sunset darkness outside the windows. Ultra-detailed, sharp focus, soft natural colors, emotional realism. Landscape 16:9.
AVOID: exaggerated messy fluids, horror tone, blur, text/watermark
5) IMAGE TITLE: FARRAH’S EMBRACE — THE PIETÀ OF TRANSITION
DESCRIPTION: Inner vision: Farrah cradles Michael in a modern Pietà—luminous, compassionate, respectful.
IMAGE PROMPT:
Cinematic photoreal symbolic vision in a soft, dim transitional space: a luminous blonde female spirit presence (Farrah-inspired but not an exact likeness) cradles a slender male spirit presence (Michael-inspired but not an exact likeness) in a gentle Pietà-like pose. Both are semi-translucent, made of warm light with soft edges and compassionate expressions. No fear, no gore—pure comfort and shock-to-care transition. Ultra-detailed, cinematic lighting, soft natural colors, fantasy realism, sharp focus. Landscape 16:9.
AVOID: exact celebrity faces, horror ghosts, religious gore, blur, text
6) IMAGE TITLE: WALKING THE BARDO
DESCRIPTION: Janet holds Michael’s hand in a vast transitional realm; other souls appear as distant silhouettes.
IMAGE PROMPT:
Wide cinematic fantasy-realism scene of the Bardo: a vast dim expanse with soft fog and distant points of light. In the foreground, Janet (youthful, sandy-blonde hair with bangs, attractive) walks steadily while holding hands with a translucent male spirit. Far in the distance: many faint human silhouettes—quiet, lost, gentle, not scary. Mood: compassionate guidance, solemn hope. Ultra-detailed, sharp focus, soft natural colors, cinematic lighting. Landscape 16:9.
AVOID: horror ghosts, skulls, screaming faces, neon colors, blur
7) IMAGE TITLE: THREE PERSPECTIVES
DESCRIPTION: One image showing the tri-layer experience: living room, Bardo hand-holding, and witness consciousness above.
IMAGE PROMPT:
Elegant cinematic composite (clean, not cluttered) showing three layers:
- living room layer: Janet on the futon and Sasha seated beside her, supportive;
- translucent overlay layer: Janet walking hand-in-hand with a spirit in mist;
- upper layer: a subtle “witness consciousness” glow above—an abstract calm vantage point, like a gentle luminous presence observing. Photorealistic, ultra-detailed, sharp focus, soft natural colors, cinematic lighting. Landscape 16:9.
AVOID: messy collage, double faces, blur, text overlays
8) IMAGE TITLE: A MISSION FROM THE OTHER SIDE
DESCRIPTION: Farrah’s directive—purpose, compassion, and calling.
IMAGE PROMPT:
Photorealistic cinematic “inner vision” scene: Janet listens with emotional steadiness; Sasha remains grounded, supportive. A calm luminous female spirit presence (Farrah-inspired, not exact) communicates a mission in a soft fog-lit transitional space. Mood: purposeful, compassionate, non-preachy. Ultra-detailed, sharp focus, soft natural colors, fantasy realism. Landscape 16:9.
AVOID: angel wings cliché, sermon vibe, fear tone, blur, text
9) IMAGE TITLE: THE PARENTS STEP THROUGH
DESCRIPTION: Four young, radiant parents appear and wave—silent reassurance; joy tears.
IMAGE PROMPT:
Cinematic photoreal vision scene: a doorway of soft light opens in a dim transitional realm and four figures step through, appearing youthful (mid-20s/early-30s), healthy, warmly radiant. They wave gently, loving and reassuring. In the foreground, Janet reacts with joyful tears; Sasha watches in awe, steady and protective. Ultra-detailed, sharp focus, cinematic lighting, soft natural colors. Landscape 16:9.
AVOID: spooky horror ghosts, glowing demon eyes, blur, text/watermarks
10) IMAGE TITLE: FAREWELL AND AN APPOINTMENT
DESCRIPTION: Contact closes—spirit shimmer lifts; Janet returns to the room; Sasha delivers the “new client” line.
IMAGE PROMPT:
Photorealistic cinematic living-room scene late at night: tissues scattered, water glass half-full, warm lamp light. Janet sits exhausted on the futon, youthful and pretty with sandy-blonde bangs, eyes wet but calm; Sasha sits nearby, handsome, longish brown hair, expressive blue eyes, compassionate and slightly incredulous. A barely-visible shimmer of spirit light dissipates near the ceiling—subtle and respectful. Ultra-detailed, sharp focus, soft natural colors. Landscape 16:9.
AVOID: slapstick expressions, blur, text overlays, watermark
