When I was younger I’d never even heard of reiki. Raykey Shmaykey. I was stuck in a negative situation and as such had manifested myself into a hyperventilation queen. I’d happened upon massage (I’d never had a massage either) and at that time the therapist asked if I’d ever consider a Reiki treatment. And why not? Said I.
I didn’t actually think much of the first time, in fact if I did, I don’t think I’d forget – but I can’t quite remember much, so it must not have blown me away. I think I felt hot hands on me. So what? Big deal.
The changes occurred in the days after my session. I felt calmer, more in control. For a control freak like me, that is just bliss. I was breathing and feeling the air, instead of letting it wash past me and over-breathe it all out before the gas gets to exchange. No more hyperventilations. Well, not so much anyway. I quite liked this reiki thing.
Consequent sessions I absolutely became addicted. I’d never felt anything like it in my life. A little bit of ‘me me me’ time right in the middle of my working day, that allowed my whole body to just melt into the heaviness of itself, and my mind to unwind and sink deeper into somewhere I recognised, but couldn’t put a name to.
Waves of something were just rippling over my body. No, wait. Through my body and sweeping me off to some far off land that felt like I’d been there once before, but couldn’t quite remember the way back. Until I met Reiki. It took me right back to the far off land, I was addicted. Call me crazy. Call me mad. Go on, call me the Reiki Jakey! (As my dear friend does).
I felt quite spaced out (what me?) for a while. I loved it! I was sleeping better, and I made some huge changes in my life, that really needed to be changed. I was changing, it was all good. I wanted more.
I yearned to learn reiki.