From Actor to Healer: Alan Rickman's New Life as a Spirit Guide, Book 1

Chapter 2 - Contact

After a moment, a jolt of energy shook my body. Alan Rickman appeared in my mind's eye, standing across from the desk. Peering down at me over my three monitors, he looked the same as he did in the photo on the computer, except that a shadowy egg-shaped gray mist surrounded him.

Alan's eyes blinked in utter astonishment, but his smile was full of warmth and charm. "Hello," he said excitedly without moving his lips. He was speaking telepathically in my mind.

I felt no apprehension in Alan and was pleased he was willing to talk to me. "You don't know me," I said out loud. "My name is Sonya. I live in Las Vegas, Nevada. I only have a few minutes to talk right now because I'm on my lunch break. I just read on the Internet what happened to you today. I'm so very sorry. I lost both of my parents to cancer. I was their primary caregiver, and I was with each of them when they died. You didn't deserve to die this way. Cancer is terrible. I understand what you went through."

I went on to explain that I wasn't familiar with his career except for Galaxy Quest, which I had just watched earlier in the week. Then I shared with him the message Spirit had given to me during the film: "Pay attention to this man. He's essential to your spiritual path."

"I don't believe in coincidences," I said. "I know there must be a reason this happened just days before you died. Will you answer this question for me? Do you recognize me? Have we known each other before? Have we had any past lives together?" I felt strongly that a connection existed between us. I figured the veil was now completely lifted from his eyes so he would know the answer.

I should note here that I've believed in reincarnation my whole life. When I was a child, I remembered a past life as a man in the mid-twentieth century. In that lifetime, I had accidentally overdosed on street drugs one night and my spirit floated up out of my body. While hovering near the ceiling, I observed my lifeless body sprawled out across the bed beneath me.

This memory has haunted me all my life. I've never touched drugs because of it, fearing I could succumb to the same fate once again. Because of this memory, I assumed as a young child that everyone remembered their past lives. But once I started school and interacted with other children, I realized this wasn't the case.

Alan was silent for a moment, as if hesitant to answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was a soft whisper in my mind: "We knew each other in many lifetimes. We worked together as fabric traders in the Near East a thousand years ago. When I was a priest in England during the Middle Ages, you took shelter in my church after your husband died. I took care of you." He paused a moment. "You were my mother five lifetimes ago in the Netherlands."

This information struck me like a bolt of lightning. Intense energy waves coursed through my body, causing me to leap out of my chair. I paced back and forth around the desk and shook my hands, trying to dissipate the energy. What he'd said was true; the electric shock proved it.

Alan stared at me, wide-eyed and silent.

"I knew there had to be a connection between us," I said after I composed myself and returned to my seat. "Thank you for confirming this for me." Knowing that we shared a link reassured me that I wasn't crazy.

Then I went on, "I'm a spiritual healer. I practice Reiki." I explained what Reiki is and said that I taught monthly classes with a friend. As a gesture of goodwill, I offered Alan a short treatment. I said I'd given Reiki to my dad after his passing. "Reiki energy is powerful. If you're feeling any anxiety or fear about leaving loved ones behind and journeying to the next dimension, Reiki can assist with your transition."

To my delight, Alan said yes. He smiled at me, closed his eyes, and held his hands out slightly away from his body, palms up in an open and receptive gesture.

For a few moments, I sat quietly and gently beamed Reiki energy to him, making no attempt to direct it. As a manifestation of divine love, Reiki has its own intelligence and knows where to go and what the recipient needs. The energy felt peaceful, warm, and soothing as it coursed through my body and out my hands.

While channeling the energy, I became curious about the type of cancer Alan had had. So I said telepathically, "I read several articles about you. All they said was that you had died of cancer. What kind of cancer was it?"

Without hesitation, Alan leaned forward and clutched his abdomen with both hands. He mumbled something that started with the letter P, but I couldn't make out the word. I thought it could have been pancreatic or prostate, but since he clutched his abdomen and not his groin, pancreatic cancer made more sense.

"You were so young, like my parents," I said. "My father had throat cancer back in 2000 when he was fifty-five. That same year, my mother was diagnosed with cervical cancer. She was fifty-nine. They both recovered but then got cancer a second time. My mother suffered a debilitating three-year battle with breast cancer. She was sixty-seven when she died in 2008—younger than you. My father died of esophageal cancer three years later. He was only sixty-five."

Alan's eyes welled up with tears. "I'm very sorry you lost your parents to cancer," he said.

For the next few minutes, we remained silent as I finished beaming Reiki to him.

Afterward, I thanked him for allowing me to share this gift with him and said I hoped it would help him. I didn't want to further intrude on his transition, so I wished him well on his journey and said goodbye.

When he disappeared a moment later, I figured I wouldn't see him again. I certainly didn't intend to contact him again, since I had no other reason. Little did I know, Alan had other plans.