Story of a Miracle

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I have a story to tell you. It’s about a miracle.

It was spring, six years ago. I’d been receiving Reiki treatments from a beautiful being named Barb, a woman who would later become my teacher.

The treatments were incredible. I simply couldn’t get enough. I was booking in at least one a week. Something deep inside told me that this, this beautiful Reiki, would be the way out—the way I would transform from chronic illness into everlasting peace and joy. I knew it was possible. I knew it. I knew.

Around this time, I’d been reading the book The Essence of Reiki by Dawn Mellowship and Andy Chrysostomou. I remember feeling a profound resonance with their words.

To my great surprise, when I visited Andy’s website, I found an offer for free Reiki sessions for anyone around the world. These “distant sessions” did not require physical touch nor even to be in the same room with the master.

At this point in my life, my highly-rational, overly-trained analytical brain (I was in a PhD program at the time) was just beginning to lose its stronghold. I was beginning to trust my emotions, intuition, and the whispers of heart, even if those whispers did not seem logical.

So I emailed him.

A few days later, Andy responded. He said he’d love to do a session with me, and yes indeed, the service was a gift, totally free. From just a few short sentences, I felt his deep sincerity and devotion to his practice. I felt I trusted him. Whether this “distance” method would actually work was unknown to me, and yet I was glad to be corresponding with him, with this beautiful Reiki Master halfway across the world from me, living in London.

We scheduled the treatment for an upcoming Tuesday. Andy didn’t specify the specific time he’d be sending the energy, he only said it would happen at some point during the day.

When Tuesday arrived, I was sick at home. Couch-bound. Blankets, Kleenex, juice. All in all, for that period in my life, it was a rather typical day.

I remember it was early afternoon. I remember I was making a series of phone calls. I had just hung up the phone with someone (my mother?), and was just about to press the keys to begin the next conversation.

Suddenly, I felt a hand on my back. I froze. I remember sharply inhaling. I remember looking at the clock. About 1pm.

I knew.

Instinctively, I put the phone down, and stretched out across the couch. I pulled the blankets up over my chest, and simply focused on my breathing, as I stared at the white ceiling.

I felt things re-arranging inside of me. There was a kind of swishing sensation, as if gentle feathers were sweeping away dirt and debris. A few tears came. I felt my organs relax, my skin relax, everything about my whole being relax. I felt his hands, his beautiful hands, all the way from London. And I felt warmth.

I felt like I was being wrapped in a cocoon of love.

Every now and then my mind would try to jump in and try to protest about how “crazy” this was. Yet, I was able to quickly release the thoughts and return again to simply focusing on the sensations.

The session continued for about twenty or thirty minutes. I could feel the precise moment when Andy was finished. There was this palpable feeling of departure, as if someone was leaving the room.

I remember rising from the couch, wide-eyed, and walking into the bathroom. I remember looking in the mirror at my own shocked face. How was it that I had just felt the healing hands of a man in London? How was it that such love flowed through me now? How was it that this was the world in which I now lived?

Later that evening, I received an email from Andy. He mentioned the specific time he’d done the session (yes, 1pm, of course!), and he relayed to me various intuitive impressions he’d felt about my life, my illness, and about the ways I could achieve full and lasting health.

The gratitude I felt for Andy then and the gratitude I still feel today, as I write this story, is the kind of gratitude that the recipient of a miracle feels for the person who gave the miracle.

Since then, I’ve been thinking about the concept of a miracle. We’ve all heard of miracles…but what exactly is a miracle? Since my time with Andy, and since becoming a Reiki Master myself and working with so many beautiful beings, I have felt into this question.

What I have discovered is that miracles are real.

Miracles bend time and space. A miracle is a moment where the giver of the miracle relaxes into full trust in the Universe, and allows the miracle to flow through them, fully knowing that whatever happens in that moment is for the highest good of all involved.

A miracle may or may not involve the instantaneous curing of an illness, but it always always involves a moment of magic, a moment outside of the limits of the human mind, where some truth is revealed or we begin to taste the infinite possibilities of the Universe.

And, yes, miracles often involve profound moments of physical healing.

I would not be here on this planet now if it were not for Reiki.

On that fateful day in spring, six years ago, a beautiful being named Andy Chrysostomou made a miracle for me. It happened; it was real; it will forever be.

And that gratitude…the gratitude that I felt and feel for Andy, I now have the joy of seeing that gratitude in the faces of those who come to me. When my clients lay on the table before me, I lift my hands in joyful gratitude, simply dissolving my ego and allowing myself to be a clear channel of love, allowing the Universe to shape miracles through my hands.

And, after the session, when I see added light in their eyes, I know it is the light of their own love. I know that what they feel and see in me is simply their own magic.

The real magic is that the power lies inside of us. Every single one of us.

I have no special gifts or powers, and neither did Andy. All we did and do is simply trust in the Universe, and surrender to the infinite powers greater than each of us. All we did and do is yes.

This is something incredibly easy to talk about, but it takes a special kind of courage to enact.

Are you ready? Are you ready to let go of everything you’ve been told, and trust?

It doesn’t matter whether you practice Reiki or some other modality. The main point is that you surrender your small self, the ego mind, the logical rational brain, and you say:

Yes, I am ready for a miracle. I am worthy of love, and I am ready for the magic of the new. Let a miracle pour forth unto me this day. I am ready.

 

 

Evolutions of Energy Healing: A Tale of Transformation

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Reiki came into my world during the first year of my Psychology degree, when I unexpectedly became ill. It was in the local library that I was drawn to a purple book about Reiki with beautiful illustrations. As I flicked through its pages, I knew that I wanted to find out more and train in the healing art.

Looking for the right teacher, I synchronistically came across a website that resonated with me. This teacher happened to be coming from abroad to my town in a few weeks to give attunements.

On the morning of the class, I felt a bit tired, in pain, and shy about what to expect. Throughout the day, however, I felt as if I transformed beyond what I had expected.

During the Reiki attunement, I immersed myself in a portal of beautiful colours in my mind and felt the soothing warmth of the energy running through me and through the hands of my teacher. There was a sacredness in the air that felt familiar, like home. By the end of the day, I remember my teacher looking over at me and commenting: “This morning your body language was more withdrawn and you were not making eye contact; now it is as if your eyes are twice as wide and the lights have been switched on again.”

For the next 21 days, I practiced on myself daily. Slowly, I healed from being nearly disabled, unable to walk and in chronic pain, to eventually starting the second year of my degree and regaining my vitality and hope. Two years later I completed the second degree of Reiki, which focuses on learning sacred symbols. I loved how the symbols added a new dimension to my practice and experience. It gave me comfort and vitality in my own body as well as connection with others in attending Reiki Shares and feeling the different styles and energy signatures of friends.

It felt very intuitive and flowing that I was led to the attunements at the right time and place for my soul’s growth and learning. A number of years later, during 2012, I was brought to a new method called Angelic Reiki that I felt guided to train in. I had some reservations about Angelic Reiki—that maybe it sounded a little too “fluffy”—but I knew by this point to trust the pull of my intuition.

The Angelic Reiki attunements and the healing energy felt very different from Usui Reiki. Angelic Reiki felt very pure and subtle to me, very comforting, while Usui Reiki is more of a warm masculine energy. As I opened myself to the meditation and healing sessions, I had new experiences. We worked with the Angels as well as the ascended masters, and during sessions we psychically opened up and gave each other messages from ascended masters whom we knew little about, as well as felt numerous beings around us healing us beyond just the hands of the participants.

I remember during the meditation attunement we received a gift from each archangel. When it was time for Archangel Raphael, he looked deeply into me. I was overcome with such pure joy that he held me and flew me up to a crystal temple. I was intrigued by this spontaneous vision and how incredibly loving the exchange was between us.

I began to understand that my mission on Earth was to bring healing and ground it into new methods and modalities, new ways of honouring our vitality and supporting ourselves back to perfect health. I started feeling huge waves of energy, as well as having visions of ascended masters and angels.

At one point, during a night time meditation, the Egyptian goddess Isis came to me and proposed: “You are in a dark tunnel with the light in the distance. There will be difficult times as you face your darkness, but it will be worth it. This is your rebirth, are you ready?” My response to Isis then, at the time, was a big “Hell nooooooo.”

I laugh at this memory now. At that stage of my life, I simply didn’t feel ready. I still held a lot of fear and was scared of what I would find within myself.

However, in the summer of 2015, the vision from Isis finally caught up with me, as I spontaneously started seeing past life visions. On the 1st of 2016 I woke up and felt different: I knew something had changed and that big shifts were happening. From this day onwards, I started to open up my psychic awareness to receiving beautiful messages from my soul and ascended masters, angels, and guides. I saw different visions, potential futures, past lives, different energies in my mind, sacred geometry, and channelling languages like Hebrew (that I have never encountered before). It was exciting, beautiful and mysterious.

It was, also, however, incredibly painful. I was awakening to find that the little human “me” life I had been living (relationships, friendships and work) was no longer resonating with me. I was changing whether I liked it or not, and all that was not in alignment was being pushed out no matter how much I tried to stubbornly hold on. I was then right back to feeling afraid, as I had during the Isis vision.

But from the stillness of this now moment, as I contemplate all I journeyed through to create a new beautiful life for myself in alignment with my soul’s truth, I can tell you that for all the tears, the screaming, the breaking down, it was all worth it. I have been given a gift and connection to the higher realms that is so beautiful; it is a state of being to be cherished.

What I feel guided to share with you at this time is this: these healing modalities are just the initiation, the focus for channelling energy, for reconnecting with your soul. The created and established methods serve us beautifully through the different transitions of life, but what I feel strongly now is that as awakening is progressing on the planet and the veils are thinning to the higher realms, we are being gifted new modalities and energy healing methods.

It is a very exciting time for creative exploration. Like many other healers, I have evolved my own practice, integrating the traditional practices with the new energy signatures. The violet flame, star seed energies and methods such as speaking and singing in light language. As we evolve into the multidimensional beings that we are, we are gaining many abilities from our souls’ Akashic Records that allow us to introduce new ways of healing to the world and to ourselves.

And so as I continue my journey, I am eternally grateful for the established methods that formed the foundation for my energy healing practice, as well as now learning, from my own higher self, methods that are not yet in manifestation. We are on the front lines of creation, introducing new energies and experiences to bring us to the next phase of our journey. By training in another’s method we are coming back into ourselves. With accepting and owning our sovereignty, we learn from our own higher selves’ abilities.

The sky is the limit, and I look forward to seeing how energy healing evolves as we do in the future.

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Aiyana is a healthcare professional with a degree in Psychology, based in the UK near Glastonbury. After an awakening, she quickly transitioned into channelling, writing poetry from the soul, and having visions and extrasensory experiences. She has a passion for blogging, adventuring this beautiful world, being of service, promoting peace, dance, and music. Please visit her on Youtube.

Reiki, and my Return to the Angels

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I was raised by a mother who believed in angels. I remember her telling me stories about them, such as the time when about one appeared by her bedside, comforting her in a time of need.

My mother’s belief in angels was one of the most nurturing aspects of my childhood.

When I was in my early-twenties, however, I began to reject the fundamentalist religion of my parents. I rejected the belief in hell and an angry god in the sky.

Since I rejected their religion, I felt, at the time, that I had to let go of the angels, too.

Back then, angels and religion were too tightly intertwined. I had to say goodbye.

In my mid-twenties, I entered graduate school—which was, for me, the ultimate symbol of rebellion against the religion of my parents. It was the ultimate attainment of a rational mind.

Yet, at that time, despite the distance I’d fled from the religion of my parents, I was severely emotionally unbalanced. I may have been considered by some to have a brilliant intellect…but… my heart was another matter.

My heart was truly in shambles. My heart was closed. Sometimes when I passed a church, on a walk or on a drive, I would literally flip it the middle finger. Sometimes when I would talk with a Christian, I would leave the conversation in tears or flaming hot in anger.

What I couldn’t seem to forgive was what had been taught to me as a child. As an innocent child, I remember countless Sundays, sitting on the pew with my grandmother, and hearing messages from the pulpit of an “angry” god, a “jealous” god, a god who “smites evildoers.” This god supposedly watched my every move, every moment of my life, judging and ranking. I was told that if I broke his commandments and didn’t ask for forgiveness, I would be forever sentenced to an afterlife of hellfire and torture. Needless to say, these teachings left a deep wound in my heart. The first time I had sex, for example, I cried nearly nonstop for two days afterward. I was consumed with guilt and fear. Sex outside of wedlock meant that I was a terrible, lustful, awful person. I knew god would never forgive me. I hated myself.

The more years that passed within academia, the more and more emotionally disturbed I felt. (Click here for the full story of my journey with healing chronic illness.) On the one hand, here were these brilliant mentors, these professors that I so admired. They loved me. They thought I was smart. They said I had a bright future.

And…yet…on the other hand…something was missing. Something was wrong.

Where was the magic? Where was the playfulness? Where was the innocence, simplicity, and joy?

Far too often, my life, and the land of academia, was void of these things.

And then I met Barb.

Barb, my Reiki teacher.

Barb was the first non-academic mentor I’d had in a long time. She worked at a nearby holistic healing center.

Barb was a total rebel. I adored her. A few weeks after I’d taken her Level 1 Reiki course, she suggested I help her co-teach a class. I was shocked. I’d read enough Reiki books by then to know that only certified Level 3 Masters were supposed to teach. I protested, saying: “Barb! I’m not a master yet!?” To which she’d smiled and replied, “But you are a teacher.”

Barb was a rebel. I loved her. We began teaching together. We began growing together, deepening our friendship and deepening trust in the magical, unseen forces of life.

And so this is how it happened. This is how the life of academics that I had so deeply prized—the path that had been my escape from the insane, crushing world of religion—was beginning to lose its hold.

And so this is how it happened.

I was co-teaching a Reiki class with Barb. Barb was guiding the students and myself through a visualization meditation, inviting us to connect with our Reiki spirit guides. Up until this point, I’d had a few encounters with energies and beings I couldn’t explain, but had always managed to shrug it off or discount the experience. My overly-skeptical, overly-rational academic brain was still quite accustomed to being in charge.

But, on this day, this fateful day…everything changed.

I remember Barb’s voice. It is loving and sweet. We are resting on our backs on yoga mats. The air is warm. The wood under my yoga mat smells good.

She asks us to imagine a safe place, a place where we feel supported and loved. I imagine a beach. And then she asks us to allow a being to appear. “This is your guide,” she says. “This is a being who will help you with Reiki.”

Vivid in my mind’s eye (my third eye) appears a man. He looks a bit like Jesus. He has long hair, a long beard, and the kindest eyes I have ever known.

My body melts, and I am overcome by a wave of peaceful loving energy. “My name is John,” he says. “Do you have a last name?” I ask. He replies, “John.” We walk together along the beach.

The guided meditation is almost over. I am not ready to leave the wonderful presence of this being, but I know I must. When I finally open my eyes, and look around, I see that many of the other students have had beautiful experiences too. Their eyes are wide, shining. There is such joy in the room.

Since that fateful day, I have had the pleasure of meeting many angelic beings. I have had lucid dreams where beings of Light appear and, with gentle yet booming voices, offer wise teachings. I have received a waking hug from the founder of Reiki, Sensei Mikao Usui, who is no longer in physical embodiment. (I saw this hug in my third eye and also physically felt it as a gentle warmth and slight pressure.) I have had dialogues with Archangel Michael, Archangel Raphael, and Archangel Gabriel. I have channeled entities and frequencies from higher realms, such as the Pleiades. Sometimes these beings have names; sometimes they do not. I have experienced the loving presence of the Divine Mother, who goes by many names: Mary, Amma, Shakti. I have felt the Christ Consciousness and spoken his words to many groups of people.

My return to the angels, my return to magic and Spirit, has been a magnificent, miraculous journey.

I am reminded that no matter what, no matter how far we may seem to stray from knowledge of our True Self, we are always protected, we are always loved. 

Of course, as you may guess, I no longer flip off churches. In the past year especially, I have begun to release the final layers of anger and bitterness that for so long I held toward my mother and her religion. I’m currently reading A Course in Miracles, a channeled book from the Christ consciousness. And I’ve actually found two churches in my local area that I love! They are feisty and radical, preaching not dogma and hellfire but rather the spirit of Unconditional Love and Unity. They are engaged in social justice work, they support and embrace all spiritual paths, and they have no commandments or hierarchy. I give light to them and they give light to me. We are bonded, in a beautiful exchange of upliftment and joy.

Transcending my anger and forgiving my early life experience has been, for me, key to my blossoming as a healer and lightworker. As I return to the angels, as I learn to trust them more and more, I finally feel—and finally revel in!—what I missed during my time in academia.

I feel the magic again. I feel the sparkle.

Anything is possible.

 

From Darkness into Light: My Journey of Becoming a Reiki Master

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I used to be sick. Really, really sick. I was so sick, in fact, that sickness was all I knew. Sickness was my life.

One of my earliest childhood memories is of lying in bed with a fever. My mother is hovering over me, holding pills and orange juice, a concerned look on her face. I have just returned from the doctor’s office. Yet again. All my friends are at school, and I am missing it. I am always missing it.

Indeed, doctor’s offices, hospitals, waiting rooms, and cold, sterile medical facilities were the norm of my everyday life growing up.  I was always in danger of being held back at school—always in danger of of having to repeat a subject or even an entire grade—on account of the fact that the number of my present-at-school days sometimes surpassed my sick-at-home days. Whole years became blurs of prescription bottles, shots, inhalers. The doctors were as mystified as I was. Life was awful.

There was not only physical illness throughout my youth, but also emotional and sexual abuse. Certain members of my biological family were quite lost: lost in conditioned patterns of fear, neglect, and outright violence. They unwittingly repeated to me what their parents had done to them. The nasty cycle continued. I had no idea, until years later, that my brain was being wired into a state of constant anxiety and panic. (Years later, a helpful counselor diagnosed me with Complex-PTSD.) I was abused by others, and then my own brain began to abuse me. My own brain became my enemy.

At age twenty-five, my body felt utterly broken. I felt like I was one hundred years old. I felt so tired. There was no cure or relief in sight. Yet, somehow, I entered graduate school. I may have been sick, but I was still mentally determined. I had a strong will and an insatiable work ethic. My goal was to become a professor of English. I had always admired the English teachers in my life: to me, they were these living beacons of hope and wit. I wanted to be like them. Despite my flagging body and the emotional chaos within, I entered grad school, thinking, “I can do this.”

I worked hard. I worked so hard, in fact, that by the time I was midway through a PhD program, I was nearly completely burnt out. I had developed a severe form of adrenal fatigue syndrome, among other chronic illnesses, including migraines, chronic sinus infections, severe food allergies, and leaky gut syndrome.

Although I had published more articles and presented at more professional conferences than any of the other students in my doctoral cohort, I was not able to enjoy any feelings of professional success. I was ready to give up. Suicidal fantasies bombarded my brain every morning, as I struggled to lift my aching body out of bed. I was sicker than ever. I was drinking nearly a gallon of coffee every day, just to get through the day. I was shoveling sugar, breads, and other “quick energy” foods into my mouth so as to not fall asleep at my desk.

I almost dropped out of school. One day, I called my dissertation advisor on the phone. My fever was raging at 103 degrees and I had just had an allergic reaction (yet again) to  what was probably the tenth round of antibiotics that year. I remember the tears and the feeling of defeat. I sobbed into the phone: “I just can’t do it anymore.”

Somehow, she convinced me not to quit. A few weeks later, though, I remember talking to my husband about wanting to die. I simply couldn’t take it anymore. Each day was too much effort. Each day was a little bit worse than the day before. Nothing held hope; nothing held light.

One day, during an afternoon seminar, one of my favorite professors, Sue, notices me holding my throbbing head in my hands. She softly touches my shoulder. She says: “Would you like a free massage gift certificate? I have an extra one. Maybe a massage might help with your headache?” I smile, thank her, touched by her generosity. She hugs me. There is kindness in her eyes.

A few weeks later, I find myself on the table of a particularly gifted massage therapist. As lovely Anna works with me, kneading and releasing my sore tense muscles, she gently inquires if I’ve ever heard of Reiki. Just hearing the word, Reiki, ignites a feeling of excitement. There is a little zing in my spine, a little burst of energy. She then refers me to a Reiki Master who works in the same studio.

About a week later, a beautiful Reiki Master named Barb Hay places her hands on the crown of my head. There is soft music playing. The springtime trees are blossoming, wafting their soothing smells through the two-story window.

Almost immediately, I feel strange sensations pulsing from her hands into my body. Her hands are hot—like an oven!—and my skin below her hands are tingling. As she moves her hands from my crown to my forehead, and then down to my chin, I begin to wonder how all of this is possible. How is there such a great amount of heat if her hands are resting still on my skin? How is there such vibration? What is happening? What kind of crazy magic is this?

A few minutes into the session, I begin to lose control. My body begins to twitch. My arms, legs, and head are thrashing, jerking about. My breath is coming deep and fast, and there are moans and sighs. I begin to breathe out what feels like nasty toxic sludge. As I breathe, I suddenly realize all that I have carried, since childhood. In this moment, I realize how truly sick I have been.

I begin to cry. Barb asks me if I am okay. I say “I am okay, please continue.” I am somehow aware that the best thing that I can do right now is not to think. The best thing that I can do to heal is to trust and to simply experience exactly what is happening even though I can’t logically understand it. And I can quite literally feel the love pouring from Barb’s hands. Her heart is speaking to my heart, without words. Her heart is gently whispering: You are well. You are home.

After about an hour, I sit up and rub my eyes. I swing my legs off the side of the table, and turn toward Barb, who is now seated in a chair across from me. Her eyes are wide and sparkling. There is a smile upon her face.

“What just happened?” I ask.

“I will teach you,” she says.

♦♥

Fast forward six years. I am now a Reiki Master, carrying on in the footsteps of my beloved teacher Barb. These days, there is more light than darkness. These days there is more joy than grief.

I am still healing, too. Even with all the miraculous changes in my body, mind, emotions, and spirit, I still get triggered some days into anxiety and anger.

As I work with people who are waking up, I notice I have a lot of gratitude for the darkness. And I remember the deepest of truths: that I chose to incarnate onto this planet into the specific family, time and place that I did. Nothing was by chance. All of it, my whole story, including the darkness and the sickness, was my soul’s desire.

In order to be able to help others, I needed to get lost in the darkness for a while. I needed to have that experience, so that I could empathize with others. I needed to understand illness and trauma not from a merely conceptual point of view—but I needed to live it.

I chose to have the circumstances that would shape me into who I am today. A healer. A teacher. These choices were made by my soul before birth. In truth, we all are given these choices.

Thus, understanding and integrating this knowledge means we can release victim-consciousnss. When we can view every circumstance of our life as a divinely-orchestrated moment of profound perfection, we shed the darkness of victimhood and step into the Light.

Hopefully, by my telling you the story of my own life and past darkness, you will begin to feel clearer and more confident about your own journey. About your own life purpose.

Through your own healing journey, you guide yourself out of the darkness. You love yourself, into the light.

My story is the story of a Reiki Master. It’s a particular story. And there are so many stories.

So…what’s your story?

This is such a beautiful time in history to share our stories. As a collective species, we are waking up. And by telling our stories, we give each other the energy and inspiration to keep going, to stay the course.

Yes, I’d love to hear your story, friend, and I bet others would, too. Please share your healing/awakening story in the comments. Or, alternatively, you can feel free to reach out to us if you’d like to share your story as a contributor to this site. We will be launching a new segment on the blog soon called “Stories from the Heart” and we’d love to share yours.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

∞ Be blessed ∞