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

Chapter 9 - Lessons from Cancer

As a thank you for his willingness to work with me, I offered Alan the attunement for Reiki Level II. Since the first attunement had helped him in ways I couldn't comprehend, I thought the second one might further his healing. Plus, he had watched Wayne and me teach Reiki Level I and II, so he was familiar with the curriculum and could put the teachings to use.

Alan agreed. "You are kind to do this for me."

Repeating what I'd done previously, I made myself comfortable on the couch and conducted the short meditation for him.

Afterward, Alan said, "Thank you. I am feeling the effects. It's hard to put into words, but the heaviness from the cancer is starting to lift. I feel lighter, freer. It's incredible."

I was amazed. "I'm honored to share Reiki with you. I wish I could have done this while you were living."

Suddenly, I smelled a putrid odor. It wasn't Alan's musky aftershave, but I suspected it was another spiritual scent.

I asked Alan, "Do you know what that strange smell is?"

"I do," he replied. "That's medicine I had been given intravenously in the hospital shortly before my death. Sorry, I am still recovering from my ordeal. I didn't realize that was going to happen."

I understood that losing his life to cancer had devastated him, and this smell was a manifestation of the pain he was still carrying in his heart. Even though he was now in a better state, he was still healing.

Because the odor was unpleasant, Alan needed to release it. So I asked him for permission to remove the smell using some energy healing techniques I had learned. He allowed me to do so. I never smelled it again.

Alan had died of pancreatic cancer. From what I've read, this form of cancer exhibits no symptoms early on. It's most often discovered in late stages when it's more difficult to treat. As a result, the prognosis usually isn't good.

"Cancer is such a dreadful disease," I said. "So many people contract cancer each year and succumb to it. Could we talk about this? Are you willing to share what you learned from your experience with cancer?"

Alan then took me on a spiritual odyssey. His face slowly expanded in front of me until most of his facial features disappeared beyond the periphery of my vision, leaving only two bright eyes piercing through mine. Then his face receded and turned to his right.

Now he was seated behind the wheel of a car, intently peering out the windshield as he drove. I assumed we were in the UK because the steering wheel was on the right. I was in the passenger seat on Alan's left. Neither of us said a word. I waited to see where he was taking me.

He watched the road carefully and made a left-hand turn. We drove down a residential street and pulled into a long driveway beside an older looking home. He nodded for me to get out. We strode up the front steps, and Alan pushed open the door with little effort. It wasn't locked.

He announced that this was the home of one of his relatives who was still living. I had no idea if this was a vision of the person's actual home or merely a symbolic representation. I took a few steps into a wide empty foyer and looked around, but saw no one and heard nothing. The house appeared to be deserted.

A thought instantly popped into my mind; perhaps Alan had planted it. I sensed that this family member was afraid they were going to die of cancer like Alan. He wished he could tell his relative this wasn't so.

He broke the silence then. "Just because we lose a family member to cancer, that is not a death sentence for us. That does not mean we are going to contract cancer. We are all unique individuals on our own unique paths. Cancer is a disease of the mind. It has its roots in errant thinking. It is very important for people to understand this, Sonya. It has its physical causes, and I am not downplaying that, but there's a deeper side that the average person doesn't consider."