Gently

I experienced a Reiki session recently.
Some of the practitioner's techniques reminded me of things to tell my students.

* If you, the client, are uncomfortable with the practitioner's techniques or hand placements, speak up.
* The practitioner should not be squeezing you, or suddenly and silently repositioning you during the session.
* The practitioner should tell you where he/she will place his/her hands.
* The practitioner should not lean on you.
* Hands should be gentle, no pressure, not forceful. Reiki is not massage.
* The practitioner should keep his/her eyes open, to assess for hand drift and the client's comfort .
* When changing hand positions, the practitioner should lift his/her hands and gently replace them: shouldn't drag them abruptly or caressingly across the client's body.
* After the session, the practitioner should ask if the session was acceptable, and if there are suggestions for improvement.
* After the session the practitioner should listen to the client. Listen. The practitioner shouldn't overshare his/her own insights or offer unsolicited advice and instructions. The practitioner should listen, support, and validate the client's experience.
* Thank you for reading this far.

During this recent session, I whispered, "Gently" twice, when squeezed. It was an unusual Reiki session, in unusual circumstances. I was a guest in another teacher's class, and didn't want to be rude. Rather than stop the session or instruct the practitioner on better practices, which normally I would do; I found myself engaging my energetic shields, enduring, and mentally making the list above. I would have shared my suggestions for improvements if asked. I learned a lot about myself and Reiki practice, and that's good.

perfect baby

He's such a perfect baby. Beautiful skin. So chill. Sleeps a lot.

Fabulous loving attentive parents who are now stretched to the max. Because the last month has been all hospitalization, medical appointments, numerous complicated diagnostic tests, and scary prognoses.

And he's a perfect baby. Strangers come up to marvel at his beauty. He smiles at me. He adores his parents. He kicks and grabs. He has grey eyes and a round head with wisps of brown hair, reddish highlights.

I'm confident that he is and will be fine. He's my Reiki baby grandson. 

good books

Reiki Nurse

and

Reiki Stories

Reiki on the island

I do self-Reiki on the ferry over. Not that I'm nervous or sea-sick, just because it's time. Unless I'm chatting with an islander, patting a dog, or watching the sea birds.

Shared Reiki with my cousin. She rented a house on the island. Reiki on her knees and ankles. Reiki plus sea air and island life = relaxation, rest. Just breathe.

Reiki on the beach. Reiki in the cottage. Reiki in the air.

in the garden

I listen to the songs of cardinals and sparrows. I talk back to them and to the plants too.

The artichoke thrives, in funny Maine weather.

Eggplants and hot peppers are blooming. There are green tomatoes. One zinnia, three sunflowers: yet to bloom.

I graze; nibbling green beans, basil, blueberries, and raspberries.

Picking lots of basil, cilantro, green beans, and chives. I pat the potato leaves, so soft. Speak to the morning glories, sing to the sedum, and curse the copper beetles.

The hummingbird is neon green against the red bee balm. Cumulus clouds pile up. The wind blows. I pull up weeds. It gets dark.

your story

doesn't matter. Those injuries, resentments, and jealousies: irrelevant.

That's what the psychic told me this week.

Would an infinite light being feel anger, pain, jealousy, or resentment? No. Forget your life story. Tune in to joy and love. Unzip your enemy's meat body to see the light inside.

Celebrate light and love. Laugh.