Joy and Healing via My New Magic Wands

My friend Letitia Lee, of Esoteric Pure Magic, crafts extraordinary wands. My understanding of other wands I have used until now is that – while they often contain aspects which enhance the energy, such as particular crystals or a specific kind of wood – the magic is in the witch or magician using them; the wand amplifies and extends that. 

Letitia's wands themselves have the magic. (The user can add any of their own, e.g. as a Reiki Master I am able to add Reiki to the powers of the wands I have from Letitia.)

I had got used to the way that wands which are an extension of the user are made, with much focus on the crystal at the tip (the pointing end). Letitia's wands taper to fine points, and have wider handles where most of the power is concentrated (like a reservoir of power waiting to be activated). 

'The Hogwarts prototype!' I said to her. She assures me she invented this design long before J.K. Rowling and/or the film-makers came up with it. And in fact her wands are not all that much like the Hogwarts ones except in that respect. 

It is certainly a new and interesting experience to use a wand made in this way. I have grown to love the feeling. I don't feel in any way disempowered, quite the reverse. It's empowering to hold and use a more advanced tool. Just as I would with an up-to-the-minute new kitchen appliance or a state-of-the-art electronic device, I keep being delighted by how much more I can do. 

They are all made from natural materials, even the glue. That, of course, is the case with many other types of wands; still it's nice to note that it's so for these also. And they contain some powerful but invisible ingredients – which may be the case with others as well, but again it's nice to know.

A more unusual property is that Letitia's wands are telepathic. They can and do communicate with the user. I initiate conversations with mine, often in the form of requests; also there are times when they speak to me first. This might be to tell me how and where to apply the tip to my body for healing. Recently my healing wand volunteered the advice that, as well as using it, I could still give myself hands-on Reiki of an evening while watching television! (I am used to this with energy healing. Reiki itself will sometimes lead one to another form of healing to add to the mix for optimum results.)

I am very blessed to have two of Letitia's wondrous wands. As we are close personal friends, she designed and made one specially for me as a xmas present. It's long, intricate and beautiful, and contains some symbols very personal to me. (She herself had no conscious knowledge of the depths of those personal connections when she included them; but as she is highly psychic I'm not all that surprised.) It was created with various functions, an important one of which is to bring me joy.

The other was not created for me, but as part of her stock for sale. I saw it when I last visited her, and was very drawn to it. It turned out to be primarily a healing wand, though like the rest it has more than one power. With Letitia's permission, I picked it up. The handle fitted my hand perfectly. Then it spontaneously directed me where to touch it to my body! And guess what? I just happened to have in my wallet, and was able to spare, enough money to make a down payment. (It is fairly unusual for me to be carrying such a sum, I might add, and I had no expectation of spending it there.) Seeing it was me, she let me take the wand home straight away, and I'll pay her the balance next time I see her. This wand is much plainer than the other, but it too happens to include something with personal meaning for me.

Already I have stories to tell about the efficacy of both these wands. 

A Practical Path to Joy

Would you use magic to fix your plumbing? I just did – though it did also involve some physical work by men and machines.

My toilet has tended to get blocked if we’ve had a lot of rain – either very heavy, prolonged, or both. 

Usually it was only partly blocked. The contents would rise in the pan alarmingly when flushed, but would eventually drain away over a period of several hours. Sometimes it was completely blocked and couldn't be flushed at all. I don't live very close to any public toilets, so occasionally have had the embarrassment of knocking on a neighbour's door to ask, 'Please can I use your loo?' 

I am in a Housing Department unit, so I would phone Maintenance and someone would arrive within 24 hours to fix it by clearing tree roots from cracked pipes. 'We'll need to replace a section of pipe,' I was told. Access to the pipes is from the yard of the adjoining unit, not mine, so I couldn't be certain whether the pipes were indeed replaced, but it seems pretty obvious that didn't happen as the problem kept recurring. I got to know, as soon as I heard sudden gurgling, gulping noises from the loo even when it was not in use, that it was time to phone Maintenance. 

I lived in dread of this highly inconvenient situation. I even bought a second-hand plastic commode chair from the Palliative Care op-shop. Then I realised that would not solve the problem. Were I to use it, how would I then dispose of any – er – non-liquid contents? So it has never been used and I guess I'll remove it from storage in my garage and donate it back to Palliative Care one day.

Recently, when I heard the dreaded loo noises after some rain, I spoke to my personal wand and suggested that this situation was not conducive to my being joyful! I requested that the matter be fixed properly, long-term. Only then did I phone Maintenance. 

A very nice plumber I had not met before turned up. He found the usual roots in the pipe, which he removed. He said some of the problem was at a junction with Council pipes. He would notify them to come and fix their side of it. He would also have to replace the pipe on the Housing Dept side, and would need some time to organise that, as it would be quite a job; meanwhile my toilet should work OK for the time being.

This bloke inspired more confidence than others I'd encountered. And sure enough some Council workers arrived a couple of days later and cleared their side of things. 'Put something heavy on your toilet lid,' they said. 'We're going to whoosh a whole lot of water through the pipes and you don’t want it flooding your floor.’ They reported back when it was all done; though I kinda knew, when the heavy machinery noises stopped.

A few days later they returned. 'We've been instructed to replace the junction.' Which they duly did. They said, 'Yes, let the Housing Department plumber come back as arranged, in case he needs to do anything more.' I wouldn't have known where to contact him anyway, except through Maintenance. Which I tried, but they said, 'Talk to him about it when he comes to do the job.'

So this morning that is what happened. He was pleased to hear what had taken place, and even more pleased when he inspected the site and found that there was nothing left for him to do. I am extremely pleased myself that, after several years of pleading with the Housing Dept for a permanent solution instead of a quick, temporary fix, I have finally got one.

Yes yes – to the sceptics who like to explain things away – I know, the thing with the wand could, theoretically, have been mere coincidence. Hey, I don't think so!

Un-Crippling Myself

I have had osteo-arthritis for years. Usually it is well controlled and doesn't bother me much. A few weeks ago it began flaring up painfully in my right hip and leg (no, not sciatica; that's been investigated) and sometimes lower and centre back. I started having to use a walking-stick. Luckily I could still drive; it was walking that was the problem. At my worst, I was hobbling around bent over like an old woman.

I did all the things recommended and a few more – consulted my doctor; kept up my regular chiropractic and massage treatments; used the hydrotherapy pool; kept moving as best I could; took prescribed medications for it, plus relevant supplements including turmeric; did specific exercises to help, as instructed; etc etc etc. Everything helped a bit, for a short while; nothing helped much. Finally, getting desperate, I mentioned it to Letitia. At that point I was having gall bladder pains as well; too much fatty food over the holidays.

'Use your healing wand, silly!' she said. Oh yes! Funny how pain interferes with the ability to think. 'Give yourself a good hour's healing,' she added. So I picked up the wand. It immediately instructed me to get naked. (No problem. We're in the middle of a heat wave here.) Then I just let it move where it would over my body, not guiding it but being guided by it. After a little while it told me to lie down, and then concentrated on my gall bladder. It completely got rid of that pain in about 20 minutes. That was on December 30th and that pain has not returned. Of course I did start eating more intelligently, which would have something to do with why it hasn't recurred, but doesn't explain the quick relief on the day.

The same session considerably eased the arthritis, however that did not clear up and did increase again over the following days. 'There must be something I still need to learn from it,' I thought. I kept working with the wand daily as guided, more or less half an hour at a time, as well as doing all the other things I was doing. Finally the wand gave me the above-mentioned advice to use Reiki on myself as well, when watching telly. (You would think I wouldn’t need telling, but as I said, I wasn't thinking straight.) Then it got me to finally put out a call for help to some of my healer friends, and at that point I began turning the corner.

It was a great reminder of the power of asking for help! Two people who live near came and gave me some lovely hands-on work; others sent me loving energy. 'You have many good friends, Rosemary,' one reminded me. I went back to my doctor, consulted with the pharmacist about the most efficient use of my prescription meds, called on my personal  team of angels (which btw we all have) and even explored possible support services in case of need. And I continued to use the wand.

Today I am almost pain-free, am not needing to use my walking-stick, and I can tell you I am in much better spirits! During the worst times I did have moments of self-pity, thinking of all I did as my late husband's carer – contrasting that with being on my own, no-one to support me in the same way, boo-hoo. The amount of support that came when I asked was a revelation! That must be one thing I needed to learn from the whole exercise. Another would be the many techniques and options I have for use in healing. 

In the end I suppose a number of things contributed to the healing – but it was not until I began using the wand that anything shifted. After that it was a gradual but accelerating journey.

I am grateful to the wand which set the healing in motion and helped it along, as well as to Letitia for making her magic wands available.

Yes, I am going to give her, and them, a plug now. You bet I am! 

Here it is. You can find some of her other wands at her website.

COMFORT COMES

My little cat, Freya, left me just over a week ago, as recounted at my SnakyPoet blog.

By that evening I had developed the worst back-ache of my life, across the whole of my back from neck to tail and side to side. It lasted the best part of three days, and at its worst was almost crippling. Luckily all I had to do all weekend was sit in front of a computer, hosting my section of a collaborative virtual book launch.

That was a commitment I couldn't get out of. The only other person who might have been able to fill in for my hours was ill herself, and hardly likely to make an instantaneous, miraculous recovery just because my circumstances had suddenly altered.

As it turned out, the launch was tremendous fun. Doing my duty was a blessing in disguise, as it took my mind off the emotional distress. And what with pain-killers and hot water bottles, sitting at my desk was probably one of my better options for not exacerbating the back-ache.

I had to be on deck for the launch on Saturday morning, so couldn't dash off to the doctor until Monday. I called on absent Reiki from two friends, swearing them to online secrecy. (I didn't want to deflect attention away from the purpose of the launch, let alone make my collaborators feel guilty. Being caring people, I thought they might have done, however irrationally.)

What caused the pain? There were two possibilities. Either the new weekly tablet for osteoporosis, which I began that morning, or Freya's departure that afternoon. Maybe both.

Painkillers, heat and absent Reiki did help some, but not as much as I'd have liked. Not immediately, anyway. I wondered if I would have to end up going to hospital. But who would look after my remaining cat, Levi, if that happened? And how would the poor lad cope with my absence, when still distressed at that of his sister?

During my tea break on Saturday, at one point I lay down on the bed to have a cry — partly at losing my Freya, partly from pain, and partly in anxiety about how to cope. It was clear to me that, with sole responsibility for Levi, I just can't afford to have any serious health breakdowns!

Levi came onto the bed and snuggled up to my back, needing comfort himself. I started to turn, so as to take him in my arms and say, 'What are we going to do, Levi?' As I did, I caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye of Andrew (my late husband) standing by the bed in his white shirt. I didn't even see his face, but after living with the man for 20 years, I know his torso — and his energy.

'Andrew!' I said, half turning back — not in alarm but in surprised greeting. Of course, the image had already vanished (that is the way of it in my experience) but I knew he was still there.

'I don't know what to do,' I told him. I explained about the pain, the possibility of hospital, and my concerns for Levi. I explained about having to be present for the launch, so as not to let others down.

'Help me!' I said. Then I lay back, exhausted from that small effort.

I sensed him reach down and give me Reiki. I didn't feel disembodied hands on me or anything. Instead I had a mental image of him reaching his arms down so that his hands touched my shoulders. Funnily enough, although I had seen and still felt him by the bed, my image was of his arms having to elongate and stretch a long way down. But I didn't think much about that at the time, through the pain; it only registered afterwards.

What I did feel was the Reiki taking effect very quickly. Not only did the pain reduce considerably, my sorrow was eased by a deep feeling of peace. Neither pain nor emotional distress went away entirely, but I was very soon able to get up, feed myself and Levi, and go back online refreshed.

By Sunday morning the pain was starting to leave. By the time I saw the doctor on Monday, it had almost gone. He said he couldn't rule out the medicine but that was not one of the known side-effects, and as it's a slow-acting drug, he wouldn't have expected any reaction so soon. He did, however, think it feasible that it could have been due to emotional stress.

'We won't know until you take your next tablet next Friday,' he said. The mere thought of taking another was scary, just in case it was the cause!

But it is true that emotions tend to go straight to my body. I'll get a cold, or a headache, or a bit of low back pain. I just never experienced quite such an extreme physical reaction before. (Well, there's a school of thought, to which I partly subscribe, which says most or even all physical symptoms can be traced to an emotional origin — but not usually so fast.)

I saw my chiropractor on Tuesday. He felt my back and confirmed that there was  'a large stress component' in what had happened. And I took the second tablet this Friday without the same effects.

Since then, Freya herself has come back to visit, as detailed in this short poem.

It's nice to get such vivid reminders that my dear departed are still around, and to know that Andrew still has, as I always told him, 'the best Reiki hands in the business'.

Initiating a New Reiki Master

I wish I could have taken a photo of her face as she sat, eyes closed, basking in the energy, immediately after her initiation. It was so beautiful: soft and flower-like. I've never seen her look so beautiful before. I don't know that anyone ever will again, not quite in that way. I am the only person privileged to see that look on her face.

'How beautiful!' she murmured as she opened her eyes. It wasn't herself she was speaking of; it was her experience of the initiation. 

It is indeed the greatest privilege to do this work.

Reiki Master Training: Finding the Right Teacher

Bill and I both loved learning Reiki I and booked in at once to do Reiki II on Beth's return to Australia six months later, in December 1988. This was a smaller group; only about a dozen of our original Reiki I class had chosen to continue so soon.  Some probably never would. Most people who learn Reiki are not thinking of setting up as practitioners; they're simply seeking to help themselves and their families, pets and friends. The basic hands-on technique is adequate in most circumstances. 

We weren't thinking of becoming professional practitioners either, but we were captivated by the idea of distant healing, and we had fallen in love with the Reiki energy. We weren't the only ones. One of the assistants at our Level II class was one of our classmates from Level I. 

'I couldn't wait,' she told us with a big grin. 'I went to Beth in America and did it there.' She looked as if she was about to start dancing with delight. 'You'll love it. It's magic — real, fair dinkum magic.' 

We thought so too by the time we finished the two-day class and learned all the amazing things we could do with the energy. As well as being able to bring about verifiable healings for people at a distance, we could gain deeper insights into what ailed them, enabling them to change any thinking or behaviour that contributed to their illness. 

I was so enraptured that I decided to become a Reiki Master myself, to share this wonderful gift with as many people as possible. Beth presented each of us with a certificate and a long-stemmed red rose. I told her my decision. 

'Oh good,' she said. 'I'll see you at all my seminars, working your little butt off.'

'If that's what it takes,' I said.

'That's what it takes,' she said with a grin.

She was the picture of warm encouragement, yet in that moment I knew she had no intention of ever training me as a Reiki Master. I didn't realise then that I was psychic, so I tried to dismiss this knowing, but I was certain of it despite having no rational reason. A short time later, Beth announced her retirement. We would not be seeing each other at all her seminars; there wouldn't be any more. Well, at least her undeclared refusal to train me wasn't personal.

She had trained three Australian Reiki Masters by then, one of whom was Denise Crundall in Melbourne. I asked Denise if I could assist on her seminars with a view to Master training when I'd served my apprenticeship. To qualify for Master training, you had to have been doing Reiki for five years and be seen as a person of the highest integrity. After two years of further training, you had to demonstrate that you not only knew your stuff but could teach it. Denise welcomed me, and I did assist on a couple of her seminars. I respected her greatly and learned valuable things from her, but I knew she would not train me to Mastery either — not that she lacked the intention like Beth; simply that it wouldn't happen that way.

At this point I heard on the grapevine that Ann Adcock had become a Reiki Master. To everyone's surprise, it wasn't with Beth but someone in Adelaide whom at that time we had not heard of — though we later came to know her and greatly respect her —Trisha Ellis.

Ann had been Beth's chief assistant in the State of Victoria, and the organiser of all her seminars there. Bill and I had got quite pally with her, but this was news to us.

Soon afterwards Ann phoned and said, 'Guess what?'

'Ha ha, I know,' I said. We arranged for her to visit us at Three Bridges and tell us all about it.

She told us that she and Trisha Ellis had been best friends for decades, since Trish had been Matron of Sandringham Hospital in Melbourne. After moving to Adelaide, Trish became the coordinator for Beth's South Australian Reiki seminars. She and Ann had a standing joke that whoever attained Mastery first would give it to the other. Both expected to train with Beth.

Trish was also a crystal healer. She was doing a lecture tour of the United States in that capacity when she met a woman who was a Reiki Master, who immediately assumed that Trish was too. When she learned otherwise, she said, 

'I'd be very happy to initiate you'. 

But Trish needed to continue her tour, and declined. On her travels she met up with a young Reiki Master she knew, Rev. Glen Dunning, who took one look at her and said, 

'Trish, when are you going to take Mastery?'

Obviously the Master energy was already shining out of her, which is the way it happens when one is ready for initiation. And so she received Mastery from Glen. He already knew that she had been working with Reiki for eight years, was well able to teach, and her integrity was beyond doubt. 

When she got home, she phoned Ann. Trish, in turn, knew that Ann had also worked with Reiki eight years and was well qualified for Mastery, so, according to their old, half-joking agreement, she offered it to her. Ann went to Trisha's home in the Adelaide hills for the final training and initiation. 

Naturally I thought Ann might be the Master to train me. Meanwhile Ann looked at our Three Bridges property with its beautiful gardens and huge lounge room built for big parties, and thought of running seminars there. A few days later she phoned. 

'Rosemary, I keep seeing your energy. It's as if I can't turn around without falling over you. What is it you want to say to me?' I'd been in a fever with it, so I took a deep breath and told her I was hoping she'd accept me into Master training. She said,

'When I received Mastery, I thought, "There'll be people who will want it from me," and I decided there were three I'd be very happy to train — Sue, Tony and you.' She added that she felt I wasn't quite ready, and would talk to me more in about nine months. That was the same timing I'd been getting!

As it happened, her friend Sue never did train. Tony van Lambaart was the first Master to train with Ann; I was the second. She held a number of classes at Three Bridges, with some students coming from Melbourne and staying overnight, as we had room to accommodate them. I assisted on Ann's seminars there and in Melbourne, even before I entered formal training. That began late in 1991. Ann waived the five year requirement as she knew of other healing and teaching I'd been engaged in, and let me start only four years after I learned Reiki I.

I immediately went straight into ego, becoming self-conscious and inept. For a while I must have been her clumsiest student ever. If people were sitting in meditation prior to fine tuning, my chair would squeak. If there was so much as a tissue on the floor, I'd trip over it. But gradually I got a grip and realised it wasn't about me but being of service to the students.

The training also involved private sessions with Ann, helping me clear anything that might hinder my progress, and giving me exercises to develop my non-physical abilities. To reach a point where I could transmit Reiki for life to students during the fine turnings, my energy had to be raised considerably. 

Eventually she initiated me — a profound and beautiful experience taking place over three days. But that did not complete my training; it enabled me to begin fine-tuning people under her close supervision.

I've already recounted how Master training cost me my marriage to Bill — which, obviously, was already very shaky for that to have happened. Also, some little time later, a cousin invested some money for me and managed to lose it, so I was left destitute and went on the dole.

It was a surprise to me, in March 1992, when, after a special gathering of Reiki people, Ann presented me with my Master certificate in completion of my training. She gave a speech in which she praised the way I remained focused on service through Reiki even in the face of such catastrophic events in my personal life. 

Later she told me that, all through that two-day gathering, people were nudging each other and whispering, 

'Look at Rosemary. She's radiant!' 

I was unaware of that, fully immersed in looking after people and facilitating the purpose of the gathering, but apparently I was the only one oblivious. 

'It was the Master energy shining from you,' said Ann. 

Learning Reiki I

Note: Reiki I is the first level of Reiki training, the basic method of hands-on healing.

In 1984 I had a reading from a famous clairvoyant called Mario Schoenmaker. Mario believed in reincarnation. He described a scenario in which, in my last life, I tried to help some dying people. 

'So in this life,' he added, almost casually, 'If you wanted to, you could heal with your hands,'

That wasn't a thing I had any idea of taking up. I already had my vocation: I was a poet.

Some years later, in a personal development course, I got chatting to the woman sitting next to me.

'You seem a bit tense,' she said. 'I think I can help you. I'm a massage therapist. Let me give you my card.'

It seemed like a great idea, and I became a customer. I didn't make regular appointments, just rang her up whenever I felt especially tense, weeks or sometimes months apart. I'd never had a massage before. I found it blissful, and very relaxing. I was a busy mother of young children, and working part-time. It was about the only 'me time' I had. I usually dozed off.

One day she said, 

'I've just learned this new thing called Reiki. It's not a vigorous massage. It's more like a gentle laying on of hands. Do you mind if I try it on you?' As far as I was concerned, she could try anything on me. She was good!

I blissed out as usual and didn't really notice what technique she was using. It felt great; that's all that registered. 

Some months later she said,

'I've just learnt Reiki II, the advanced course. Is it OK if I try that on you?'

'Sure,' I said, and once again registered little of the actual treatment, only how wonderful I felt afterwards. It had such an effect that I never again felt so tense that I needed to consult her. However, because I wasn't going on a regular basis, I didn't notice that until much later. Anyway, that's how I came to believe that Reiki was a type of massage. I now know it works very well in conjunction with massage and many other therapies, so practitioners of various kinds add it to their qualifications. 

Abalone diving is a young man's game. Bill retired and we moved to the country east of Melbourne, to a tiny place called Three Bridges, near Yarra Junction and Warburton. That was where we were living when I saw Beth Gray's Reiki seminars advertised. I got a huge, irrational hit: 'That's for you!' It was easy to then rationalise it: it was just after I started wishing for something Bill and I could both learn to help him with his spiritual healing gifts. 

Bill wasn't hard to persuade. I think he must have been tired of feeling drained after doing healings, and the thought of me being able to give him a nice massage afterwards was enticing. Also he had recently managed to put my back out while attempting to relieve an ache. A friend who did massage had to make an urgent visit to put it right. The idea of getting some actual training must have started to seem good too. 

The time and money for us to do the course became available with almost miraculous ease. 'It's as if the Universe opened up for us,' I said.

Beth Gray was an American Reiki Master who visited Australia twice a year to teach in all the capital cities and some large country centres. (There were no Australian Reiki Masters then, though Beth was in the process of training some.) Our course was in Melbourne, over a weekend. There was a free introductory session on the Friday night, for people to find out about Reiki and see if they wanted to do it. We didn't see why we needed to drive all the way from Three Bridges for that. We were already enrolled in the course, and we knew what Reiki was - a form of massage, right? 

So we turned up on the Saturday morning, and found ourselves in a room of about 60 students and maybe 10 assistants. Beth was short, vibrant and glamorous, with beautifully coiffed grey hair, a stylish suit and scarf, high heels, bright lipstick, and long red nails. I found out later she was nearly 70. She looked 50. 

She asked a few of us to share why we wanted to learn Reiki, and then asked some of the assistants to tell us what Reiki had done for them. We heard of healings that sounded like miracles. Then she led us in a meditation. That was cool; Bill and I had done meditation before. We still didn't really understand what we were getting into.

Then we had to stay in our quiet, meditative state while the assistants ushered us, 10 at a time, to a small room to receive what Beth called a 'fine tuning'. Each group would be gone a little while, then they'd come back into the main room. Meanwhile the assistants rearranged their empty seats to form long rows, one chair behind another, where people were directed to sit when they returned.

As instructed, I was still in a meditative state as I lined up outside the little room for the fine tuning. When we went in, we sat on chairs side by side in front of Beth. She instructed us to keep our eyes closed until told to open them. She said we would feel her doing things to our heads and our hands, but on no account to open our eyes. The procedure, she told us, was sacred and secret.

She wore a little bracelet of bells which tinkled softly as she moved. She told us later that she got it in the Philippines where, before she knew about Reiki, she trained with the spiritual healers. She said she wore it as a reminder to stay humble, knowing that she was not really the healer but merely a channel, a pipeline for the healing energy. It was nice to hear the little bells as Beth moved along the line. There was something sweet and reassuring in the sound. I'm sure all Reiki Masters who ever had a fine tuning from Beth dreamed of one day wearing just such a bracelet when working with their own students. I for one never found my bracelet.

At one point, I felt her stop in front of me, then she took my hands in hers. I was so startled that my eyes flew open involuntarily, and I found myself staring into the face, not of Beth but her chief assistant, Denise Crundall, whom she was training as a Reiki Master. Denise and I stared at each other wordlessly a moment, then I recollected myself and shut my eyes again. 

When we went back into the main room and sat one behind the other, we were shown how to put our hands on the shoulders of the person in front of us. We must leave them in place, we were told. If it became uncomfortable because our muscles weren't used to the position, we must 'push through' the discomfort.

Then I got the shock of my life, in more ways than one. My hands suddenly felt as though little electric currents were running through them. 'Oh,' I thought, 'This is something other than massage.' Later I came to know this phenomenon as the hands 'switching on'. Reiki is activated by touch I guess if we'd attended the Friday night talk that would have been made clear. I expect it would have been explained as scientifically as possible. But ever since that startling experience, I have privately felt that Reiki is magic.

After a while I noticed that Bill's hands on my shoulders felt warm and soothing. When everyone was back in the room, sitting in their 'Reiki trains', as these lines of people with hands on shoulders were called, Beth started going up and down the lines, feeling everyone's hands and asking us all the same two questions: 'How do your hands feel?' and, 'How do the hands on your shoulders feel?' We learned that different people perceive the energy in different ways. It has something to do with one's own individual energy, and something to do with how much need of healing there is in the body under the hands.

Over the weekend we received three more fine turnings. Beth explained that the energy is passed on in 25% increments because 100% all at once would be too much to cope with. We got lots of practice working on each other on Reiki tables (which are similar to massage tables) and experiencing at first hand our aches, pains, tiredness etc. leaving us. An even greater thrill was being able to do that for others, as they reported in wonderment.

After presenting our certificates, Beth told us she would be back in six months to teach Reiki II, the technique for healing 'in absence'. With that, we'd be able to give Reiki to anyone in the world, without having to be with them in person. More magic! I could hardly wait.

Calling it Quits

When I look back, I see many reasons why Bill and I didn't stay together. Basically we grew apart. We'd been doing that for some time before we noticed. When the boys turned into young men and stopped living with us, it became apparent that parenting was the biggest thing we had in common. Without that, there wasn't much else. 

'What do you want from life?' I asked him, hoping to find some mutual aim and recover our sense of partnership. 'What are your goals and visions?' He answered, but I didn't hear him. 'I'd like to travel around Australia,' he said. Well, we'd already been to Sydney, Adelaide, Townsville, Darwin, Ayers Rock, Kakadu and Broome. Besides, to me a vision was big, like saving the world; a goal meant being a famous writer at least. After we parted, he visited Perth and Brisbane and explored more of coastal Victoria.  He was telling me loud and clear what he wanted all the time; I just wasn't capable of hearing it.

And I broke some unwritten contracts, although I didn't realise that until later. He was supposed to be the writer, and later the psychic and the healer. It was I who went on to careers in all three. 

When we met, he was writing a novel. He didn't know I was a writer too. He knew I was a librarian, and that I'd majored in English Literature at University. He told me with naive enthusiasm that he was drawn to me because I must be good at English. An odd basis for attraction, I think now, but I didn't question it at the time. 

Bill was 15 when his family migrated from Holland. His older brother John had learned English at school; his little brother Robert was young enough to pick it up easily here.  Bill missed out both ways. Maths was the only lesson he could understand at his Australian school. He taught himself English by attending movie matinees and watching the same cowboy film over and over. Surprisingly, he fell in love with the language. By the time I met him, his reading was quite sophisticated. His writing, though, had problems. The first letter I ever got from him was a huge disappointment. I couldn't read it! Finally I figured out that he was spelling everything the way it would have been spelt in Dutch if it had sounded the same. Once I had that clue, I managed to decipher it, but it took a long time for only two pages. I could see that he did need help.

He loved English because of its nuances, its subtleties, its fine shades of meaning, the fact that so many different words could be used for one thing. In Dutch, he told me, language is blunt and simple — one word, one meaning. Bill's father loathed English for exactly the same reason. 'You know where you are with Dutch,' he said.

Bill's written English improved considerably, but he put the novel aside for the responsibilities of providing for his family. If he'd stayed a carpenter, perhaps he would have written in the evenings; but abalone diving is one of the most physically demanding jobs there is. He rose early and went to bed early, and there was no guarantee of a weekend off. If the weather was right, you dived. You might not get another chance for a while. His father was a builder. When it wasn't diving weather, Bill worked for him. It kept us fed but didn't leave much time for writing. Luckily, abalone diving became his even greater passion. He loved the life. His story-telling impulse was satisfied by becoming a raconteur, telling wonderful tales of his experiences under water, which he never wrote down.

I was a poet, a very different matter. It takes a lot less time to write a poem than a novel. When I'm asked how long it takes me to write a poem, I usually say, 'Anything between five minutes and 20 years'. That's more or less true, but at least the first draft can be done quickly. But I was just a private scribbler. It was only when I was 32 that I asked myself, 'OK, you've got a good husband, lovely kids, a nice house, all the things you're supposed to want. Why are you still discontented? What do you really want to do with your life?' 

A light bulb lit up in my head and I knew the answer. It had always been there. I wanted to be a poet. I'd always wanted that. I just hadn't believed it possible. 

When I was little, my parents read me poems for bedtime stories, and bought me books like Now We Are Six and A Child's Garden of Verses. I started writing poems when I was seven. My parents were proud of me, but when people asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, and I said, 'A poet,' they explained as kindly as possible that it wasn't a thing you could 'be' in that kind of way. It would have to be a hobby.

I won some school writing prizes, and in my teens became brave enough to submit to Meanjin, the foremost literary magazine in the country (and the only one I knew about). My work was promptly rejected. I pulled my head back in and resumed scribbling so privately that few people knew. 

Now, at 32, I told myself, 'OK. Time to have a go for real.' Bill was appalled. 

'I've got friends who are artists and musicians,' he said. 'Any art form consumes you. It's a tunnel that'll swallow you up.' 

I argued vociferously. I wouldn't let it do that to me; I'd still look after the family. I wore him down until, grudgingly, he gave permission. (Obviously I had little understanding of feminism back then.)

Doing it 'for real' required much more crafting. Near enough wasn't good enough any more. But it seemed I'd learnt some things in those years of scribbling. I was published quite soon, joined the Poets Union, embraced performance poetry, and made a name. I even got to teach the poetry part of Professional Writing courses at various colleges, on the strength of that name plus my BA.

Bill didn't pick up a pen for another 12 years, until he retired and we moved to the country. I was amazed that his gift was still there, but he seemed to have lost heart. He wrote some good short stories but didn't do much with them.

By that time he'd become psychic overnight, lost it and partly regained it. [As recounted in my previous post.] Meanwhile some friends got me interested in Tarot. I started playing with it just for my own amusement.

At the same time as becoming psychic, in the same lightning-strike way, Bill developed healing gifts — part of the same package. He would get an inner knowing where to put his hands on someone and how to massage them to relieve pain and other symptoms. If he did this too often in a short time, he became drained of energy.  

'Who heals the healer?' I wondered. 

Also I was worried about the legalities. He was working on people without any qualifications. When I saw a Reiki course advertised, I persuaded him we should both do it. I'd experienced Reiki. I didn't know much about it but I thought it was a superior kind of massage. I thought he could get some qualifications to put to his natural gift, and that when he got drained I'd be able to look after him. 

But Reiki isn't like that. It's not massage but energy healing. You tap into the universal energy instead of using your own, so you never get drained. It's activated automatically by touch. 

I had no idea of being a healer myself, except to help him, which now he didn't need. But it was I who fell in love with Reiki and, in a major life change, decided to train as a Master (a teacher). As a start, I began seeing clients professionally. I also decided to advertise Tarot readings. To my surprise I got plenty of clients for both services.

Bill declared, 'I support you 100% in your ambition to become a Reiki Master!'  A few months later he thought the training took too much time and money. 'Unless you give it up,' he said, 'Our marriage is over.' I was rocked. But I was due to go to Sydney, to a conference of trainee Reiki Masters with the world Grand Master on her first visit to Australia. 

'Go,' said the Reiki Master who was training me, 'And then make up your mind.'

I walked into the conference, and into peace and acceptance. There was a large room full of people sitting on cushions on the floor. It was also full of the Reiki energy they all carried. I looked around. There were my brothers and my sisters; I was home. The decision was made. After a profound and beautiful three days, I went back and told Bill the marriage was over.

It was his turn to look shocked. I think I must have called his bluff, and then he didn't know how to back down. But I hadn't realised that he was bluffing. And by then it was too late. 

10/6/13

Healing Miracles or Medical Mysteries?

1)

My Beloved has had severe leg pains for days; can barely move sometimes. When things I tried gave only temporary relief, I invited a spiritual healer friend to come and give him a session. By the time of her appointment yesterday, he was also wandering in his mind and his blood sugar was up a bit high — so I booked a doctor’s visit for him later the same day. As he was in such pain that he wasn’t sure he could even get to the doctor’s, I didn’t cancel the healer. 

She gave him a lot of time. ‘They [the spirits] were working a lot on his lower back,’ she told me afterwards. He didn’t immediately notice great improvement, but by the time we saw the doctor, his pain was greatly reduced — so much so that the doctor said, ‘How often can your friend come and do this for you? It’s better than any medication I could give you!’ (He is on so much medication for his diabetes and artificial heart valve that what else he can safely be prescribed is limited to things which would have undesirable side-effects anyway.)

I had assumed his pain was caused by peripheral neuropathy, a painful condition of the nerve ends which is a side effect of diabetes, but the doctor explained that that affects feet and ankles, whereas this pain was in the thighs and calves. He thought it might be from the severe arthritis in the lower back. I thought so too, considering what the healer had said. But the high blood sugar could also suggest an infection. As there were no signs of chest infection, it could be urinary. ‘If he’s not better tomorrow, take a sample and bring it to the clinic.’

Today is Saturday. Only one doctor is on duty Saturday mornings, so it’s first come first served. His pain had returned, his blood sugar was high; he got the sample and we fronted up as early as we could manage. She found some signs of infection, prescribed an antibiotic and sent the urine to the lab for further tests. She also expressed the opinion that the burning pain in his legs is caused by another side effect of diabetes — with such a long and unfamiliar Latin name that I don’t remember it. We go back to our own doctor on Monday.

So in this case the miracle was not a cure. However, some relief is better than none, and it encourages me to continue with my own energy healing methods too.

2) 

Some weeks ago I started experiencing extreme shortness of breath after very little exertion. I had some chest pain too. The doctor originally thought it might be either pleurisy or emphysema. I’d recently had (mild) pneumonia; pleurisy could be a lingering after-effect. Also I smoked for 32 years, and even though I’ve been stopped for 23 years, emphysema can take that long to show up! A couple of my psychic friends got the impression it was pleurisy, and my chiropractor said it couldn’t be emphysema or he’d have picked it up long ago. (Whew!) 

An x-ray suggested a hernia instead: part of the abdomen pushing up into the left lung. The doctor ordered ‘a more sensitive scan’ to make quite sure of the diagnosis. In the interim I used both Reiki and Genome Healing. The breathlessness reduced to almost nothing, and the pain stopped completely. For good measure, the chiropractor attempted to push the hernia back down into the abdominal cavity.

So a week later I had the next scan, which showed no hernia. The doctor explained that we all have a fatty shield around the heart, and that mine must have been casting a shadow on the lung in the first x-ray. 

I told him I’d done some Reiki, and described the Genome Healing as ‘a guided process of talking to my organs.’ He didn’t scoff — he’s fairly open-minded — but he didn’t comment.

‘So what was causing the shortness of breath?’ I asked.

‘I can’t explain,’ he said.

I asked, ‘Could it have been partly stress-related?’ I had noticed that, although it followed physical exertion, stress seemed to exacerbate it.

He became animated. ‘Yes that’s possible. And that might be why you’ve been feeling better. Talking to the organs is a form of relaxation exercise. It’s like the progressive relaxation technique of going through each organ in turn.’ 

He was obviously happy to have found a way to explain it to himself, so I didn’t say what I was thinking: ‘Hey mate, remember it wasn't only breathlessness, there was also pain. That’s a hell of a powerful relaxation exercise if it does the trick for a week and more!’ 

The jury’s still out on this one, too. Was it a mild pleurisy that gradually got better? Did a hernia reverse itself? Watch this space.

Can You Heal Without Reiki?

Actually we all have healing hands. Some people have them noticeably and naturally; others can feel this immediately when those hands touch them. But if you weren't born with this obvious gift, and you never did a Reiki course either, you can still do hands-on healing. We all have healing energy within us, and the hands are the natural tool with which to use it. You just have to dig a bit deeper to find it.

The thing to do is to rub your hands together to bring the healing energy up into them. When they're warm or tingling, place them on whoever needs the healing, yourself or another person. Trust that it will work, and let your intuition tell you where to put them and how long to leave them there.

Be careful not to deplete your energy. This will happen if you do too many healings in a short space of time. You might have to experiment to find out how many you can comfortably handle in a day. If you're not setting up as a practitioner, you probably won't get that many anyway.

Depletion is not a problem with Reiki, because we're not using our own electro-magnetic energy fields; we tap into the Universal energy, which never runs out. The smart answer to the question is, if you've never learned Reiki, learn it! But you might have your own rasons for not wanting to, or for not wanting to yet. Don't let that stop you in a case of emergency, if you can't get medical help or while waiting for it to arrive. There IS something you can do to  help.

Also, of course, there are many other good modalities around, and one of them might suit you better. Again, many of them don't tap into the Universal energy, so you would have to use commonsense in looking after yourself as well as your clients. But you could always add Reiki later, which would enhance whatever else you might do. And if not — they are still good modalities.

Reiki etcetera

I started a blog with that name a few months ago.

But I've got so many blogs it's ridiculous. I've decided to incorporate that one under the CRONEWYZE label, which covers energy, magick, and any esoteric or even practical wisdom I think I may have acquired.

Reiki, and other forms of healing which I do, are all about energy really; so is the practice of magick. I have even been known to express the opinion that Reiki is an Order of Magick — though I expect few if any other Reiki Masters would agree. Depends on your definition of magick, perhaps. Mine is: Magick is just science for which we haven't yet found the scientific explanation. Also, Reiki traditionally has three Degrees. Certainly it can seem magickal in its effects!

Anyway, look for the 'Reiki' and 'HEALING' labels for posts on those subjects. Some of them will show up on dates earlier than this, when they were first written, so you may have to hunt for them. Just click on the appropriate label. ('HEALING' is a broader category than 'Reiki', hence the capitals.)

Are We Helpless in the Face of Disasters

Not entirely.

Once the flood, fire, earthquake or tsunami has happened, we can't undo it. But it's always useful to send Love energy to such situations, and to the people in them and the places where they occur.  If you're a Reiki practitioner, Reiki is one of the easiest ways to do that. Beam it at the TV screen when you're watching the news footage — either to the general scene or to individuals who are shown, or both. When you see those scenes in your head later, as you're bound to, again visualise and intend to 'zap' them with that energy or surround them in it.

This is a huge act of faith, as you will never know if it did any good. It is a time to recall the many instances when you have been able to get feedback and to know that Reiki helped a person or situation. Knowing that, trust that it will help in the large-scale disasters also, and remember that some Reiki is better than none.

Sometimes weather magick can prevent threatened disasters. Witches would probably just light a candle. In his book Urban Shaman, Serge Kahili King recounts instances of shamans banding together to successfully turn away destructive weather from population areas. Group energy is very powerful; for that reason it is also effective to take part in such events as world-wide meditations at specific times.

For people who aren't shamans or witches and don't know how to use Reiki, heartfelt prayer is also powerful. So are 'Love projections' where you get into a semi-meditative state and focus Love towards the person / place / situation. You can visualise it as white light if that makes it easier — or rainbow light, or pink light, or green, or gold — so long as you hold the understanding that this light is an expression of Love energy.

Humanity has been told by many teachers over the centuries that Love is the essential for making our lives work, having ourselves and our planet be healthy. It's a very difficult thing to do, to stay always in that state. Most of us have to catch ourselves —eventually! — when we fall out of it, pick ourselves up and start again. It is worth persevering. There is nothing that is so much worth doing.

I am now in my 'senior' years, with a great deal of life experience behind me. It becomes more and more apparent to me that Love is indeed the only thing that really matters. It's vital.

A Nose for Healing

I can be slow on the uptake!  Our cat Freya has been rather clingy of late. In particular she likes to get on the bed when we retire for the night and come up close to be stroked. She stays there a long time, purring under our hands. This is a new development.

I noticed recently that she was looking a bit off colour and took her to the vet. Early kidney disease! (She is 12 years old.) She is now being treated to prevent it getting any worse and seems to be responding well.

Finally the penny dropped about her bedtime behaviour — she is ensuring that she gets her regular Reiki treatments!

I should have realised. Cats, like other animals, love Reiki.

Freya, as explained in another blog, is a reincarnation of a previous cat, Sam, who had feline leukemia but lasted many years becase of Reiki. He had a nose for healing hands and would leap into the arms of any newcomer to the house who happened to be a healer. In this incarnation too, living with two Reiki Masters, Freya knows where to come to look after her health!

Dealing with the Common Cold

Even Reiki Masters can get sick. We're all human, handling our lives and circumstances as best we can, and sometimes manifesting illness or injury in the course of doing so. Spouse and I have had head colds the last little while: very sneezy and a bit of a cough in the throat, nothing on the chest.

Along with my Usui Reiki, I learned about the metaphysics of illness. It's not, strictly speaking, a necessary aspect of Reiki; but a knowledge of what thoughts or emotions might be involved in the condition can help with any kind of healing.

Colds, I learned, can be an expression of grief. Just think of the symptoms — runny nose, streaming eyes, gasping, spluttering, choking; very similar to an outburst of hearty crying. If that's the case, best deal with the grief consciously and express it directly. It might be time to 'have a good cry' for real, not in a disguised fashion. It could also be helpful to write it all out. (You don't have to show anyone afterwards, if you don't want to.) You'll probably be well aware of what's causing you grief. If it's elusive, look instead for something external that upsets you (domestic violence, floods in Pakistan) or some past source of sorrow, and feel into that in order to release the tears.

Or a cold may be an excuse to take some time out, to 'have a bludge' as we say in Australia. If we're supposed to be at school or at a 9 to 5 job, we may well need a legitimate excuse — unfortunately. How much better if we could just give ourselves permission. If you need time out, you'd better take it if you can, hopefully without having to make yourself sick first.

If we know all this, how come we still got these colds? First of all, we're still human and fallible enough to forget what we know, or not to take enough notice of our needs in the first place. I'm far too inclined to push myself to get things done instead of taking life a bit slower and easier.  Then, sometimes we want a break from things we're stuck with.

My Spouse is 81 and I'm now his official carer too. Doctors and friends tell us he's 'amazing for 81' and indeed he is — but he doesn't have the strength, stamina or concentration of a younger man. I now do a lot of things that he used to handle, from putting out the garbage to balancing the budget. And I'm 70 myself; one gets slower. At times I resent the fact that there's less time for what I call 'my own life': reading, blogging, movies, meditation.... He'd probably like a bit more of that kind of thing too, but he needs his daytime nap these days. We shouldn't complain, and we're not; many people younger than us have lesser quality of life. However, as I keep saying, we're human — there are times we'd like out of all this. I don't mean dying; we don't feel the least bit ready for that yet. But it would be nice if someone else would take over the hard work.

The trouble is, no-one's going to. We're not actually ready for the nursing home, either. We very much like our autonomy, thanks. And our children all live interstate or overseas. So here we are, wanting a bludge and not able to get it. What are we to do?

Have one, that's what!  During the course of this cold, we have been having days in bed. Mostly in bed, that is. One does have to get up and get a meal now and then, but we've made them easy meals, like opening a can of baked beans. When I was kid, comfort food was tinned tomato soup with brown bread broken into it; we've been having that too. It feels like mothering myself. We've brought the laptop to bed and watched movies, while ignoring our email. We've caught up on our reading.

My domestic mentor (and thousands of other people's) FlyLady has been reminding me for years that 'you can do anything for 15 minutes' (not IN 15 minutes, please note) — after which you are supposed to spend the next 15 doing something for you, such as putting your feet up and having a cuppa.  If only I would do what she says, I would be taking my time out every 15 minutes! (I must set my timer, I must set my timer, I must....)

FlyLady also teaches that 'housework done imperfectly still blesses your family', giving permission for the proverbial 'lick and a promise' when that's all there's time or energy to do. So why have I been feeling stressed for lack of time? Why am I resentful at not having enough time for 'my own life'? I've been being a martyr, that's why. Pushing myself beyond my limits, being perfectionist about things that don't warrant it, failing to get to bed at a decent hour (another of her precepts) and so on. FLY Lady is about Finally Loving Yourself. Time to put that into practice!

If you have a cold, perhaps it's time to take a vacation, or maybe you could drop some of your responsibilities for a little while. Maybe your parner could walk the dog; maybe the kids could water the plants. Perhaps it might be as simple as getting to bed a little earlier. That's when our bodies do their healing and repairing, when we rest.

What about Reiki? Metaphysics is a big part of the story, and you can speed up healing by addressing the metaphysics, but let's not neglect actual physical treatment of your ailment. Of course go to the doctor if you feel the need. What you think is a cold might be the precusor to something more serious; it's useful to get a diagnosis. If your doctor gives you advice, take it. It won't conflict with Reiki; they will enhance each other.

The place to Reiki yourself for the common cold, or anything infectious, is the thymus. Place a hand on your upper chest, with your thumb touching the collarbone; that will more than cover the right area. It's a very good idea to make a habit of Reiki-ing your thymus even if you aren't sick; prevention is so much better than cure!

If you listen to what your symptoms are telling you, and take care of the metaphysics, and consult your doctor, and give yourself Reiki — who says the common cold is incurable?  If you just do the Reiki and nothing else, that will certainly help — Reiki is powerful stuff — but the full works shoud clear it even faster.

We've had our echinacea and zinc tablets which the doctor recommended. Spouse has just gone to lie down and have a rest. I'm going to get comfortable and do a bit of reading, holding one hand over my thymus while I read.