I Performed Reiki: My Reflection

On hugs and a floor covered by toys and crayons

I was performing a Reiki service on a friend today (yes, I AM an attuned Reiki Master), and after I had completed the act of giving all of her major chakras the appropriate attention that they each needed, my mind wandered to the wellness of my own self... Yes, I had completed a full self-check before I could even begin to offer my friend an attunement, but I became truly curious about how I was holding up at a deeper level than just generally and superficially. I began thinking about the shape that I was in on an even energetic level, and if I had been taking the necessary measures to ensure my wellness there. And if not, where should I begin to correct it?

In remedy, I asked myself three deceptively complex questions. What do I feel? What do I desire? And why do I want it? These are the same questions that I reflect on whenever I am needing to quickly check-in with myself mentally and spiritually.

I asked myself three deceptively complex questions.

What do I feel?

What do I desire?

And why do I want it?

So, I took a survey of my immediate surroundings: two noisy toddlers, an annoying cartoon playing, a headache threatening me between my eyes, a husband typing away in the home office of the next room over before I interrupted him for assistance -- the usual suspects were all accounted for. And I smiled. My belly got warm and my cheeks raised because my heart was so full. How amazing is it that I get to be Mom to two such amazing and special little people in such an awesome family? I acknowledged that there was nothing more rewarding than my children's smiles, I felt glad that the two could tell me that I was doing a pretty good job at mothering them in their own way.

Yes, I was exhausted, and not just from performing the earlier Reiki session. I was already tired for tomorrow's obligations, this week's appointments and meetings, the commuting and moments spent on everything except rest and recharge. This made me want to hide away and shut myself off from every worry of the world with just the company of my little family and the familiar comforts of home. But let's get real here. What did I actually want in the practical sense? What was a logical desire I had that I could realistically pursue in an attempt to recall what joy felt like?

I remembered receiving a hug as payment at the commencement of the afternoon's Reiki session. It was just an exchange of value. But I could have blushed at that moment as I remembered how it just felt so good to receive at a very primitive and basic level. Okay, so I wanted more friends and many more hugs. Got it. I made a mental note. What else was there that I really wanted? And then a flood of more desires known and unknown came to me one after another in a stream of thought. I want to smell my new perfume after it transfers to my clothes and lasts for days afterwards until it's laundry time. I want to share a laugh with someone I love. I want to see and smell a pretty garden. I want to dine outside with my husband one evening.

I surprised myself with how responsive my thoughts were with confirming so many of my conscious and then not-so-conscious wants (needs?). This was a gut, visceral reaction, and I knew that these were the things that would truly add to my genuine happiness. I wanted them because they felt good to have. They bring joy, warmth, and they leave me smiling at random times during the day when I think about having them. They were all humble little things, really, but they each seem to make a world of significance to me when they are mine.

They were all humble little things, really, but they each seem to make a world of significance to me when they are mine.

Just as I had earlier asked of my Reiki client and friend, I relaxed my own physical body to a still state of pure experience without performance. I sank down deeply into myself until I was only barely perceiving the outside world from within the most inner part of my being. I got down to the basics of just feeling -- and then feeling joy. While in this state, I mentally enjoyed laughing at hilarious joke I had just learned with a group of my close friends. I imagined wearing an elegant little gown at a dinner date outside with Mr. Patrick. I saw my kids smiling at me. The feelings all felt true to life. And this, all of this, I knew that I could have at any moment I chose, if I simply repeated the same process of tuning into myself and shutting out the outside world for a few moments.

I opened my eyes to the huge mess of toys on the living room floor, and I was happy. I almost wouldn't have had it any other way at that time. Almost, I stress. I say it quite often with conviction: We're a neurodivergent family with two toddlers on the autism spectrum, but we aren't suffering. The Patricks are a very happy family. And our happiness in non-negotiable to me through every hurdle and every challenge that may meet us. I felt joy. This Patrick happened to be wearing a very big grin as I watched my two children playing and enjoying just being children, typical or not.

I'd wait to clean up the floor and pick up the living room until after they were all done and sleeping sweetly in their beds. It wasn't such a big deal to me.