The Miracle of Reiki

Miracle of Reiki

Starry Night by Vincent Van Gogh – Photopin


I have a low-grade pain on my side, that gnaws at me like the drops of water that eventually erode a mountain.

Most of us have pain, be it physical, mental, or both.

We can’t turn down the volume on pain, so we are of one of two camps:

  1. We never tell anyone about it.
  2. We give everyone we meet the full run down.

I handle the pain on my left side by sleeping on my right side.

It has never stopped me from doing anything, and I try to ignore it.

But during my first Reiki session, it would no longer be ignored.

A blonde woman named Sarah was sitting by the window in the room, her hair and fair complexion glowing in the soft winter sun that flooded in.

She asked me to lie on the table, and covered me with a plush fleece blanket.

In a soft voice, she asked if I had any pain. I pointed to my side.

She pulled up a chair and gently placed her small translucent hand on the nucleus of my pain.

Her fingers felt like stones that were warmed on a fire.

I felt the healing energy of her hands, like warm lava on my side.

She said the inflammation I had would have doubled some people over.


“Don’t Walk”.

“To buy Turmeric”, she said.

The old dormant inflammation began to rage like a hot air balloon that was finally able to let out a guttural scream.

In the safe spiritual room, we talked about the treatments for my endometriosis, and the alternative – to do nothing.

I felt her hand dispersing heat throughout my body now, and had to remove the furry blanket.

Once the session was complete, she advised me to stand up slowly to gain my balance.

I felt light.

And pain free.


I could hardly believe it myself.

The exhausting thief of my energy was gone. It was comfortable being ignored, but couldn’t stand the compassion.

Then I ran out to buy some turmeric.

 Previously published on

The Power of Music

Sometimes there is no cure for a person’s illness, and we are can only find ways to treat them with kindness and compassion to ease their suffering.  A  few years ago, as my mom’s illness progressed, she went to a hospice for comfort care.

She always loved music, so we continued to play music for her while she was there.

It transported her to a happier time, when she was free from illness.

One day she had a wonderful visitor knocked on her door.

I was sitting by her bedside and I noticed he was carrying a guitar.  He asked if mom would like him to sing for her. “Would she ever!” I replied. ‘She would love it!’

Music had been a constant source of joy throughout mom’s life.

She was no longer able to sing, or even speak or open her eyes, but she could gesture and squeeze my hand to show she understood me.  They say hearing is one of the last senses to go before death.

The soft spoken man settled into the love seat beside her bed, and began singing a gentle serenade of sweetness.  I felt her grip tighten on my hand, and for that moment, she forgot her suffering, and surrendered to the divine sound.

It was like the voice of an angel had transcended all barriers, with an elixir of peace and love.

His kindness came at the perfect time – she passed away two days later. He had made her happy, and it made me happy to knowing her soul had heard such sweet kindness.


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