It’s time to loosen the bow of purple satin ribbon wrapped around the box of precious memories I have carefully collected since the death of Prince Rogers Nelson, known worldwide simply as Prince. Though I didn’t know much about Prince or his music while he was alive, we have had an extraordinary relationship since he died.
Yes, it sounds crazy, but I am actually grounded and rational, most of the time. I am a psychologist, with a Ph.D., who has been a therapist in private practice since 1981. And Prince and I have been having conversations for the past couple of years since he passed from his body. I have kept my journals and notebooks filled with our telepathic communications; the photos and songs that have spontaneously presented themselves; words that have been spoken out loud through my computer; and the visual images that have mysteriously appeared on my iPad.
I have been as baffled and skeptical as anyone could be about what has transpired between us since his death on April 21, 2016. I have discussed my experiences with very few people. What would my clients think? is just one of my many practical concerns.
Throughout these past years, I have deeply considered and questioned what I have experienced—and continue to experience—with Prince, and I have very, very slowly developed trust in our connection. Like a bottle of rich red wine that ferments over time, I, too, needed time to settle down from the confusion and excitement of him entering my life, to allow the truth of this connection to blossom and strengthen before going public with it.
So, here I am. It’s time. I have boatloads of stories, and stories within stories, to tell. I initially wrote everything down to develop into a book, but because I continue receiving messages from Prince, I decided I didn’t want to wait any longer to begin sharing this most wondrous experience. So, I am telling these stories in bite-size, digestible pieces.
Putting myself out here like this feels like a big risk. But I must speak up about it. Soon after the “visitations” started, I had an inkling that I had agreed to this. I have heard over and over in my head, “Patricia, I didn’t come to you for no good reason.” And I know it’s time for me to express all that I came here to experience. And who could be a better role model for putting themselves out there than flamboyant, uninhibited Prince!?
Beneath all the doubts there has always been a sense of knowing—that I have it in me to do this—to go out into the world and tell everyone about this magical connection I have with the soul formerly known as Prince.
When the voices in my head ask, Why in the world would Prince come to you? I remind myself to move from my wariness of the truth into steadfast belief in the truth. I have learned the hard way that letting doubt take over is like ripping an electrical cord from the wall, disconnecting us from each other.
Except for a few trusted friends and spiritual teachers, I have kept this to myself, and certain special personal keepsakes will always stay with me. But the rest is meant to be revealed, and I am bursting to share. So, here goes …
Making his presence known
Because I knew virtually nothing about the man who walked the earth as Prince Rogers Nelson—or his music—until after he died, I didn’t relate to the fuss that was made over his death. But about eight days after he took leave from his body, something blasted into my heart with a bang, causing me to break down in uncontrollable sobs for no apparent reason. I was feeling magically drawn to something about Prince. Suddenly, he was not a stranger to me, I felt like I knew him, on a soul level.
In retrospect, I understand he wanted me to be aware that it was he who was trying so hard to get my attention, sending signs, many for comfort and reassurance. I discovered one such sign in August of 2017, when I happened to notice an odd gray image in my photo album on my computer. The photo had been taken three months earlier with the date and time stamped as April 21, 2017, 4:10 am, the exact one-year anniversary of his death!
When I looked more closely at the photo, I noticed it was an image on my bedroom wall of a white pulsating glowing circle with a distinct purple ring inside. Not only that, there were moving images fluttering around in the middle of the white circle—I kid you not—making the photo look alive! I emailed the photo to a few friends and simply asked, “What do you see?” Everyone reported that they saw the pulsating glow with the purple ring, but they each saw different images in the middle. I had seen John Lennon’s face, with his distinctive round glasses. One person saw Jesus. One saw a peace sign, another a pulsating heart. Amazing.
After about a week, all movement stopped. I knew this had to be a sign from Prince, who left it for me on the one-year anniversary of his death so that I could know for sure it was he who sent it. My additional takeaway from the glowing circle Prince generously left was that we each have our distinct, individual perceptions of what we see as the truth.
I am calling these communications our “conversations,” but that term doesn’t come close to describing the deeply personal nature of all we have shared. No one word would be adequate, and I want to state this as honestly as possible without needlessly scaring anyone off. Even so, I realize that “Conversations with Prince” may still sound spooky, considering that I am professing to be talking to a “dead” person.
Our intention—both mine and Prince’s—is to help dispel fears connected with the afterlife. I know that we do not die. Not only that, we can communicate back and forth with people who have left their bodies. I want to be clear that I am not trying to “prove” anything regarding the afterlife. I invite you to read about my experiences with an open mind and heart.