Saturday, August 14, 2021

Lovely Reiki Session

 Experienced the gift of a lovely Reiki session last week. I had acute dental pain and was in an emotional transition. It was hot outside, a summer day in Maine. Cool in the Reiki room and toasty warm on Martha's heated table. I relaxed. 

She began at my head, of course. Her hands were hot. I felt the heat, as though her hands remained, when she changed positions. I saw visions. I transformed into a flying eagle, a snake, and I can't remember, a lamb? I became the eagle and flew through the sky. I could see a river and wooded hills. I became a snake and slithered through the grass. The visions and sensations were vivid. I became a lamb, except I think it was some other mammal. Should have written this last week. Then the eagle spied and snatched the snake, food for hungry eaglets. 

At the end of the session, I drew a tarot card. It was the 10 of Cups, tilted left. I saw women, rain for the fields, and vessels. It seemed like a message of hope. I read in the accompanying booklet that I should notice the love that is all around me.

Thank you, Reiki Master and Sister Shihan, Martha! 

Feeling stressed, in pain, overwhelmed? Please sign up for a session with a local Reiki practitioner. Notice the love around you. Heal yourself. 

Wednesday, June 2, 2021

Sharing Reiki

Sometimes when I share Reiki I feel like Glinda. I think, "But my dear, you have the power, you always had the power; you just have to learn it for yourself." 

Friday, April 9, 2021

Winter to Spring

 What were the biggest piles of snow are dirty lumps of ice. Yellow daffodils shine. 

In a doctor's waiting room sisters fought over who would care for their father, frail and forgetful in a wheelchair. Metamorphic rocks have wavy stripes that mimic the waves that wash over them. 

A jaw abscess is painful. I know where there is a field of tiny blue flowers, Siberian squill.

Mallards are back at the pond. 

Saturday, April 3, 2021

Walking

 I walk in the morning. Not far. Not fast. Well, sometimes I shuffle quickly, almost a jog. Not often.

Sometimes I walk around a pond. The ice went out last week, or maybe the week before. People skate on the pond in the winter and ducks swim there in the summer. There are cattails, redwing blackbirds, and koi fish. I have not seen turtles. Some years there is an osprey. The ducks are mallards, usually, but last fall there were hooded mergansers. After the ice goes out, after the ground warms up, then the koi bubble up out of the mud, in the shallows, among the cattails. That hasn't happened yet, this year. Soon. 

Sometimes I walk on an outdoor track, round and round. I watch the sky turn colors as the sun rises. I listen to my favorite podcast, physicists and comedians. I see the sunlight hit the treetops. The light covers the earth as the sun seems to rise in the sky. It doesn't move though, does it? ... I just checked and it does, actually. The sun rotates and revolves. Our whole solar system is on the move. Just like me. 

Thursday, March 11, 2021

Time and Space

 Reiki travels through time and space, somehow, magically. Or maybe it's physics, but if it is physics then we don't understand that science yet. Reiki is like prayer, like a wave. Reiki is the energy of love. 

Sunday, March 7, 2021

Don't Go There

 It's hard to get good Mexican food in Maine. I'd heard good things about the place so I stopped for a take-out vegie burrito lunch after walking on a frozen lake. It is arctic-cold in Maine today. The sky is a deep blue and the sun is shining, but it is cold and windy. Hot spicy Mexican food appealed. 

Until it didn't. The burrito came in a foil dish with a clear top. It was a soft pale tortilla wrap sitting in a pond of milky sauce. Not finger food then. I cut into the burrito with the plastic cutlery provided. Enormous chunks of grilled vegies spilled out. Fat slices of onion and pepper and whole mushrooms. The vegies were greasy, grilled, and al dente. The tortilla was soggy, as soft and bland as pasta.

There was a side of rice. The rice was salty and yellow. There were chips and salsa too, which I set aside, as the lunch was carby and fatty enough without adding chips. 

It's hard to get good Mexican food in Maine. I'll keep looking. 

Thursday, January 7, 2021

The Space Between

 I've been looking lately at the space between. Liminal zones. Between night and day, sleep and wakefulness, where a gray cloud meets a white cloud in a pastel pink sky. The space where things meet. Where the water on the pond becomes ice. How fall became winter and 2020 became 2021. Where is that moment, that molecule, that miracle where things change? Can you feel it/see it/hear it? And how about the spaces between people. Physical, emotional, and electrical spaces. Thinking about how the pandemic has changed those spaces between and those moments of meeting.