What Reiki means to me today is very different from what it meant when I first discovered it.
Today, Reiki feels like a remembering.
A returning.
A quiet welcome home to the life force energy that moves through all things — living and what appears not to be living.
But when this journey first began, I had no language for any of it.
Back in 2014, my life seemed to change almost overnight. It was a year of deep transition for me. I had gone from living in addiction and believing I would never truly recover, to suddenly experiencing life in a completely different way.
I did not understand what was happening.
Something inside me had awakened, and I found myself searching for answers everywhere. I began meditating, questioning, observing, and following an inner pull I could not explain.
During meditation, my hands would begin moving naturally over my body as though they were being guided. I had never heard of Reiki before. I did not come from spiritual circles or healing communities. My understanding of spirituality at that point was mostly church and Alcoholics Anonymous.
But I knew something was happening.
At the time, I was selling my photography at the Sailfish Marina in Florida when a couple stopped by my booth. During our conversation, the woman mentioned Reiki and briefly explained what it was.
I remember immediately thinking:
This is what has been happening to me naturally.
That moment changed something for me.
I went home and began researching Reiki obsessively. I ordered books, crystals, and an at-home Reiki course. I started practicing the hand positions on myself while sitting on my couch beneath one of my photographs hanging on the wall.
The first time I practiced on myself, I cried.
Not from sadness, but from what felt like release, recognition, love, and connection all happening at once.
Something inside me knew this mattered.
But even then, I doubted myself constantly.
I kept searching for teachers, classes, guidance, and reassurance because deep down I still believed everyone else was more qualified, more gifted, or more spiritually capable than I was.
That old belief followed me for years:
Who am I to help anyone?
Eventually I continued my Reiki training through different teachers and experiences, including studying the work of William Lee Rand. I even pursued massage therapy licensing so I could continue practicing and learning more deeply.
And still, underneath all of it, there was fear.
Fear that I was not enough.
Fear that people would think I was a fraud.
Fear that somehow everyone else carried something special that I did not.
But over time, Reiki slowly taught me something much deeper than techniques, symbols, or certifications.
It taught me surrender.
It taught me presence.
It taught me that healing does not need performance.
That I do not need to become someone else in order to hold space for healing.
And perhaps most importantly, Reiki helped me remember that what we seek is not separate from us.
For me, Reiki is not something outside of myself.
It is a return to connection.
A return to trust.
A return to presence.
A remembrance of what we already are beneath all the fear, striving, and separation.
And even now, I still feel like I am learning.
Not by becoming more than myself…
But by becoming more honest, more open, and more willing to simply show up as I am.