If you don’t know what Reiki is, I’m afraid I’ll be of little use in defining it properly. According to what research I’ve done (with thanks to the Everyday Health website) Reiki is a Japanese form of energy healing, a type of alternative medicine. A formally trained Reiki Master uses gentle hand movements with the intention of guiding the flow of healthy energy (what’s known in Reiki as life force energy) through the client’s body to reduce stress and promote healing. Reiki is now used by a growing number of people who believe it helps with relaxation, anxiety, pain management, and depression. One online site defines Reiki as a mysterious atmosphere. Indeed!
I have little practical experience with Reiki. My first encounter with it was when a psychic healer got up from her chair, walked around behind me, and did I-have-no-idea-what. I heard her bracelets clink together, but felt nothing at all – nor did I expect to – when all of a sudden, there was an inexplicable weight on my shoulders. It was not because she had touched me, because she hadn’t; she never did the entire time she was behind me. Just as suddenly as I felt the weight on my shoulders, I suddenly felt the weight lift off my shoulders which, I can tell you, was a rather strange and altogether intriguing, experience.
Mind you, I’m a fairly skeptical person when it comes to what I would consider the magical arts. You know, in the same ball park as palm readings or tarot cards. But I was sufficiently curious that I tried again a few months later, in a different time and place, with a different person. With that person, I felt nothing beyond the usual calm and peace one experiences when getting a massage. The second woman didn’t do any massaging, but if you’ve ever been to a spa, you’ll recall the wonderful cocoon of peace, quiet, and probably some aromatherapy as well, while you lie on a deliciously comfortable heated bed listening to calming instrumental music. So I guess I got my money’s-worth, even if nothing transcendental happened.
So I tried a third time with a third person. I told her nothing more specific than that I was dealing with some grief. In fact, in a span of six months, I had lost three beloved pets. To say that it was “some grief” would be to flirt with understatement. But the third woman knew nothing of this. I didn’t even tell her that the grief had to do with animals. The way I see it, if I give them no more than a minimal amount of information, then it’s going to become clear fairly quickly that they either know what they’re doing, or they don’t. This one did. By the end of that hour-long session, I had had what I would term a quick visit with just about every animal I’d ever loved and lost.
I hadn’t gone searching for them. I simply laid on the table, eyes closed, waiting for whatever might happen. After a few minutes like that, they all came to me, one by one in a sort of parade, each trying to get the point across that they were alright. Unlike the last days of their lives, they all looked healthy and happy as they somehow managed to convey the idea that “I’m o.k.”
No one was more surprised than I was, and afterward, a sensation of peace enveloped me. When the Reiki Master asked how I felt, I struggled to answer. Never once, before, during, or after the session, did I mention animals, so she had no idea what had happened to me. When I finally came across a word that would describe my experience, I replied, “Clarity. I have some clarity.” The Reiki Master seemed satisfied with my answer.
Naturally, one session like that was not enough, so I scheduled another. Sadly, my beloved horse Bit died a week or two before that next session. I never mentioned to the Reiki Master the reason for my current grief, merely that I was struggling with it. Like the previous time, I lay on the table, tried to clear my mind of thought, and waited. Quite unexpectedly, there was Bit.
He showed me a few things, things that we had done, over the years: me grooming him, and walking him up and down the driveway – a thing I did when I didn’t have time to ride, just so we could spend a little time together. And then he showed me the thing he really wanted me to see: me, walking behind him as he ran into the pasture – ran, as in healthy and able, unlike his last couple of months. He showed me that scene several times, and I understood completely. He wanted me to know that he, like the critters I had seen previously, was o.k. and that he was going on ahead of me to a nice green pasture where, he was certain, I would join him at some later date.
A week or so after that experience, I had a business meeting with Bit’s owner, and Harmony Barn Founder, Wendy Simmons. After all the important stuff had been discussed, I told Wendy, “I had a Reiki session recently that I think you’ll find interesting.” And I proceeded to tell her what I’ve just told you. She had perked up at the mention of Reiki because she, too, is a Reiki Master (although she’s never done any on me), and as my story unfolded, she looked at me with surprising intensity, no doubt thinking that I was the last person she thought would have such an experience. As out there as my brain is, I’m sure she thought I could never be quiet enough, or open-minded enough, to have such an experience.
She smiled when I finished the story. She went on to tell me that the Reiki Master doesn’t make such things happen per se. They sort of clear your…I don’t know, bad juju or something?…and pave the way for you to receive whatever is out there. And apparently, it was Bit that was out there, hanging around because he wanted to give me some comfort. Given what happened just after he passed, when I came to say my good-byes, he may have felt that a little reassurance was necessary.
I went into the arena that day, before his body was removed for cremation, and I spent some quiet time, just the two of us, before others came. I crouched over his body as he lay on his side, resting my forehead on the side of his face. Quietly, through my tears, I told him the things I wanted him to know, things like… You go on ahead, and see to the herd ,[those who had already passed] and I’ll find you! I promise! I love you ever so much, Bubby! I’m ever so proud of you! My first place, blue ribbon, champion, my grand champion, best-of-show pal! And then I sang him the songs I’d made up about him, and had, without fail, sung to him every single time I was with him for ten years, so that he would hear them as he crossed the Rainbow Bridge.
I don’t know whether I’ll do any more Reiki. I might have had enough to satisfy that part of me that hopes like hell we’ll all find each other again when I pass. Then again, perhaps I’ve only scratched the surface of possibilities. Perhaps there is a lot more to learn. I’ll keep you posted!
