The shape of my Reiki fellowship is like a river — always moving forward and fluid.
Now that I’ve finally gotten my volunteer badge (in exchange for my blood, urine, social security and every other number government and Verizon has assigned to me, criminal record, undivided attention to customer relations speak for an entire morning, and enormous patience), it looks like my next steps will include doing Reiki in shifts at the hospital, for a total of 100 hours. (I accidentally wrote “years” instead of “hours.” The nearly 100 degree heat is making me undeniably cranky. In the midst of writing this, I had to go lie down and do some Reiki on myself; I went somewhere deep and woke myself up when I had a falling-off-a-cliff sensation. Even dark chocolate doesn’t appear to be helping. Perhaps a rain dance….)
The heat sometimes acts as a last-straw-on-the-camel’s-back, as was the case with Robert Byrd’s hospitalization last week for dehydration and heat exhaustion, with news of his death early this morning. He went from being a rising Ku Klux Klan member to the U.S. Senate elder voicing opposition against the war in Iraq and backing then-Senator Barack Obama for President in the primaries, despite his state of West Virginia having already voted overwhelmingly for Hilary Clinton.
Transformation doesn’t require Reiki, but it certainly can’t hurt. The research seems to suggest that Reiki has the biggest therapeutic effect on those with stress and depression, and on the well-being of Reiki practitioners themselves. (See www.reikiinhospitals.org) (Of course, this simply means that scientists have yet to come up with adequate measurement devices and methodologies, not that Reiki doesn’t help in many other conditions.)
This Reiki practitioner certainly went through some changes in the five years between getting attuned for Reiki 1 and Reiki 3. Maybe not from being a card-carrying member of the KKK to Backing a Black Man for President. But I did stop dating clods (in fact, with one little slip that barely counted, trust me, I practiced celibacy). I started teaching yoga. I fired my dentist, my doctor, my ob-gyn, even my Second Cousin’s Husband the Accountant whose special “family rate” included waiting until the last possibly minute to fill out my tax forms and didn’t like to return calls. I reconnected with other relatives after years of a sort of personal exile. I no longer keep a pack of cigarettes in the freezer just in case.
In Reiki your learning starts with getting the degree; the degree isn’t a culmination of the learning you’ve done.
So when you become a first degree Reiki practitioner (otherwise known as Reiki 1), you’re really just beginning to learn about Reiki. It’s the opposite as, say, getting a belt in Karate or a fancy pin in the Girl or Boy Scouts, where the belt or pin serves as proof that you have already obtained a certain level of knowledge and mastery.
While I’m no longer celibate (just under-engaged in the dating scene, as it were), and no sweeping sea changes appear on my personal horizon, I’m betting that this might be false, kind of like how it seemed it would never rain just a few short hours ago.
In fact, as I write this, the sky has grown dark and the wind feisty.
I have the feeling some sort of metaphorical storm is brewing beneath my own surface. Only way to tell is for me to stay tuned. After all, this is just a beginning….
Speaking of which, on July 9th, I’ll be teaching A Midsummer’s Night Scheme, which is a fancy name for a down-and-dirty yoga and writing workshop. More info and register here. If it goes well, it might become a regular monthly thing, for creative types to move and write and, yes, grab a drink and nosh after.
Time for me to dance in the rain!