From Actor to Healer: Alan Rickman's New Life as a Spirit Guide, Book 2

Chapter 9 - Music Muscle Testing Game

While getting acquainted with Alan in the spring of 2016, I told him about myself and mentioned I'd been a fan of music since I was ten years old. It was my first love and my best friend in my sorrows, joys, pains, and triumphs.

When we entered the digital age, I copied my music collection—hundreds of albums and singles—onto an external hard drive. That made the collection easily searchable in a few seconds. Then a few years later, a music collector friend of mine gave me copies of his archive for safekeeping, and I added his material to the drive so I could listen to it. Eventually I accumulated so many odds and ends in a hundred fifty folders that I didn't even know what songs I had. Sometimes it was like finding buried treasure whenever I dug around.

One day shortly after Alan had crossed over into the light, I was working at the computer while conversing with him. I casually showed him the music folders on my hard drive while playing some Antonio Vivaldi concertos.

In response, Alan remarked that he'd been familiar with Vivaldi's home. At first, I thought he meant that Vivaldi's house had been preserved as a historic landmark and he'd had the opportunity to tour it. Then I realized he meant he'd been familiar with Vivaldi's home country, Italy. I sensed that Alan had spent a lot of time there in this life and had fallen in love with Italy, similar to my own love of music and Reiki. The feeling was so strong that I thought he might have had a home there. Later, I learned from news articles that Alan had indeed been familiar with Italy, for they stated that he'd owned a house in Tuscany.

This incident taught me that Alan could use music as a form of communication. After that, I devised a game to test the limits of what we could do across dimensions. I named it the Music Muscle Testing Game. (Note: I discussed muscle testing in Book One.)

First, I would play a song from my library that I felt like hearing, and then I'd ask Alan to pick something that contained a message he wanted to convey. I would muscle test the folder and subsequent list of songs, asking yes-no questions until I identified the file he'd selected. Most of the time, it was a song I hadn't heard before.

The first time we played the game, I chose a song to convey the emotions I was feeling. Afterward, I asked Alan to pick a track to teach me something about his death and then guide me to his chosen song.

When I muscle tested my collection, I got a yes for the folder "Billboard Chart Hits," which contains all the Billboard Top 40 hits from the 1950s to the 2000s. I continued muscle testing by decade and eventually got a yes for the folder for the year "1983," which contains more than four hundred tracks. Finally, I muscle tested the track numbers by groups of ten until I got a yes for track number 276. When I scrolled down the list of songs, I discovered that number 276 was "Stand By" by new wave band Roman Holliday. I'd never heard of the song or the group.

When I played it, I thought it was an unusual Swing-sounding dance tune. At first, I couldn't figure out why Alan had chosen it. Then a line in the middle of the song jumped out at me: "My aftershave has given my hiding place away."

Alan had told me that the sweet musky odor I'd smelled in my house for weeks after he crossed over was an aftershave he'd worn in life. So, he used the song to provide physical confirmation of what he'd explained to me.

I was so amazed that I wanted to ask Alan more questions. I didn't think I would ever fully understand what his life had been like, since I hadn't known him while he was living. Nevertheless, I wondered if he could play a song that could describe it.

He said yes and guided me by muscle testing again to the "Billboard Chart Hits" folder. This time, he led me to "1973." The folder contains more than five hundred songs. I muscle tested the list and got a yes for track number 271. Alan had selected Smokey Robinson's "Sweet Harmony." As a longtime fan of Motown music, I knew who Robinson was, but I hadn't heard this track before. The tune was Robinson's tribute to his former bandmates after he left The Miracles to pursue a solo career. Robinson dedicates the song to them in the opening lines, saying that he believes in them and wants them to continue shining their light even though he's no longer with them.