Observations—One (Reiki) Teacher’s Point of View: Part I

Waking Point

by Helen Noakes

“Man has always been his own most vexing problem.”—Reinhold Niebuhr

SAN FRANCISCO California—(Weekly Hubris)—6/27/11—Now that you’ve read a little about Reiki, I’d like to tell you what it is to teach it. Hardly original, my observations probably conform with the observations of most teachers. But I feel the need to speak up, to tell you about them, and would welcome further insights and comments from other teachers, students, anyone willing to take a moment and respond to this column.

I began teaching Reiki a year after I received my Master level credential. The one-year wait is required by the Reiki Alliance, of whom I am a member.

The year between receipt of my certificate and the assembly of my first class passed precisely as my Master teacher said it would. It was a year of major shifts in consciousness. Physical changes, too, occurred, some of which were not so pleasant, but all of which were necessary for clearing.

I will not lie and tell you that I purged all of the imbalances in my body and psyche that year. What I did accomplish, with absolute certainty, was a careful and thorough examination of those parts of me that required healing, and I proceeded to work on those issues one by one.

I used the techniques I’d learned in my Reiki III studies to delve into myself, to toss out excess baggage, to dig up outdated hurts, fears, and delusions. The amped up energy worked on deeper levels than I had been willing or able to access before. It was clear to me that what was required was based on a very old idea: “Physician, heal thyself.”

Certainly, I do not see myself as a physician, but I am engaged in the art of healing, and the healer must, in my opinion, at least have addressed her own imbalances before attempting to address those in others.

Healing is not curing. The difference lies in the fact that healing is a mindful process, and takes as long as is necessary to examine and, eventually alleviate the imbalance, but may not eradicate it quickly. It’s not an instant fix, although, sometimes, it makes an instant impact which might spell relief. Healing cultivates patience, an uncompromising clarity of purpose, and an insistence on the truth.

The latter hones the healer’s skill in recognizing and confronting lies. And I’d like to point out that the lies we tell ourselves are the most difficult to recognize and, many times, are at the root of psychophysical issues and discomfort.

In order to heal, the patient should be willing to look at the unvarnished truth, and must be courageous enough to put the lie into words, accept responsibility for it, and express the intent to eradicate it. The healer’s task is to guide the patient to that truth and through the journey that follows. How can a healer who has not taken that journey herself consider herself qualified to help anyone else?

It is because of this fact that the first exercise in my Reiki III Manual requires the student to consciously go through her or his day without telling so much as a “little white lie.” This they must work on for one month, with the expressed intent of making truth-telling a lifelong habit.

Amazing things happen when one makes the decision not to lie.

One learns humility, compassion, and develops the ability to speak the truth without being brutal.

When I first did this exercise, I realized that, after a few days of carefully not lying to others, I began to see the lies that I told myself. Many of my students experienced the same phenomenon when they undertook the exercise. What each student chose to do with that realization was entirely up to him or her. I chose to dive in and sort myself out, face the truth, no matter how bitter, and make a concerted effort to clear things up. And lest you think that all truth is unpleasant, I must tell you that in my digging, I tossed away a layer of self-deprecation as well, and acknowledged that I had some talents that were worth putting out into the world. These talents have become a source of delight—creativity always is.

I tell my students about this latter occurrence, because I want to emphasize that knowing about your inherent gifts, and developing them to use in the world, is very different from being boastful or arrogant. The truth is that each and every one of us has been given a unique talent, and ignoring, fearing, or burying that talent eventually causes great harm, not only to the gifted individual, but to the world that will not have the opportunity to partake of those gifts. False modesty is a lie—a very harmful lie that can rob a life of meaning.

There is no magic wand to wave over a lifetime of accumulated self-deception, the root of which is fear. We create those lies to survive, and we forget that our survival requirements change as we mature. So, we realize, in the healing process, that those old lies are just excess baggage for which we pay dearly.

The reason I’m delving into lies so thoroughly is that I believe that the healing process cannot begin without confronting the lies we tell ourselves.

Please check in next month for the continuation of this column.