Origin Story
How It All Began: Reiki
Every year, I create a vision board.
A quiet ritual of intention, hope, and possibility. A map of the life I want to grow into. What I didn't realize then was that manifestation often arrives softly, almost unnoticed, before it changes everything.
Before the beginning of the year, I cut out a simple phrase from a magazine and placed it at the center of my board:
In Pursuit of Magic.
As someone who had spent more than two decades in advertising, those four words stayed with me. I had already lived many lives, witnessed extraordinary moments, and built a career around creativity. I am still deeply grateful for all of it.
Yet something inside me longed for more.
Not necessarily more success.
Not more accolades.
Wonder.
I wasn't looking for another chapter.
I was searching for a supernova.
A moment that would expand my understanding of life. I wanted the universe to surprise me with something so unexpected, so beautiful, that it would leave me speechless. Something that couldn't be neatly explained, only experienced.
I had no idea that by pursuing "magic," I was quietly opening the door to something entirely different.
That magic arrived in the form of Reiki.
Not long after creating that vision board, a friend invited me to a Reiki training.
I said yes without fully understanding why.
The experience awakened something in me I cannot fully explain, only feel.
I remembered my mother introducing me to Reiki years ago. At the time, I was too young to understand its depth. Returning to it now felt less like discovering something new and more like remembering something ancient that had been patiently waiting for me all along.
What drew me in most was its quietness.
Reiki is not loud or performative. It is subtle, non-verbal, and deeply calming. In a world that constantly asks us to move faster, it invites the body to soften. To exhale. To return to itself.
During my Level 1 Reiki training, I learned the foundational hand placements used for self-care and relaxation. Then one day, while practicing, something unexpected happened.
Years of grief rose to the surface all at once.
I remember placing my hands over my heart and suddenly crying out my mother's name.
What followed was a wave of emotion unlike anything I had ever experienced. It felt as though my body had finally found permission to release what it had been carrying for far too long.
When my mother passed away in 2022, I kept moving. Working. Functioning. From the outside, I seemed fine.
But beneath the surface, grief had quietly settled into me.
During Reiki, it felt as though sorrow had finally found a safe place to leave.
The release centered around my heart and solar plexus, areas often associated with emotion, identity, and physical tension.
That moment changed me.
Not because Reiki promised miracles, but because it revealed how deeply the body remembers what the mind tries to outrun.
I became fascinated by the relationship between emotion, stress, memory, and the nervous system.
Research suggests that states of deep relaxation, mindful awareness, and gentle touch can influence the nervous system and sometimes bring long-held emotions or memories into conscious awareness. While memories themselves are stored in the brain, physical sensations can become closely linked to emotional experiences. Focusing attention on certain areas of the body may reconnect us with feelings we haven't fully processed.
This idea is echoed in the phrase The Body Keeps the Score, popularized by psychiatrist and trauma researcher Bessel van der Kolk. His work explores how overwhelming experiences can continue to influence both the mind and body long after the original event has passed.
I was equally fascinated by fascia, the body's intricate connective tissue network. Richly hydrated and interwoven throughout the body, fascia responds to movement, touch, and vibration. While science has not demonstrated that fascia literally stores emotional energy, many people report experiencing emotional and physical release during bodywork, sound healing, Reiki, and other restorative practices that promote relaxation and nervous system regulation.
Whether those experiences are neurological, physiological, emotional, spiritual, or perhaps a combination of all four, they deserve curiosity rather than dismissal.
From there, I continued my training into Level II Reiki, where practitioners learn traditional Reiki symbols used to support distance sessions and focused intention. The practice deepened my understanding of connection, presence, and healing beyond physical proximity.
Months later, I completed my Level III certification and became a Reiki Master, allowing me to offer attunements and guide others who feel called to this path.
Reiki is not a religion, so it doesn't replace my own. Nor is it a substitute for physicians, therapists, or medical care.
To me, it is a complementary wellness practice rooted in mindfulness, compassion, and presence.
What I love most is that it requires very few words.
Its philosophy is beautifully simple:
Just for today, do not worry.
Just for today, do not be angry.
Just for today, do your work honestly.
Just for today, give thanks for your many blessings.
Just for today, be kind to every living thing.
These principles have become more than philosophy.
They have become a way of living.
Since beginning this journey, I've experienced a sense of peace and clarity unlike anything before. A glow that doesn't come from appearance, but from alignment. From feeling more connected to myself, to others, and to God.
What fascinates me most is that modern science is beginning to explore what many ancient healing traditions have long understood: practices that promote deep relaxation may help reduce perceived stress, support emotional well-being, and encourage the body's natural restorative processes.
I am still learning.
Still exploring.
Still listening.
Perhaps that is the real beauty of Reiki.
Not that it claims to have all the answers, but that it gently invites us back to ourselves.
Reiki isn't for everyone, and that's perfectly okay.
It has simply been profound for me.
It has brought me closer to God, deepened my appreciation for stillness, and reminded me that healing doesn't always arrive with fireworks. Sometimes it arrives in silence.
Deep down, I believe my mother gently guided me toward this path.
After Reiki, my journey naturally expanded into sound healing and alchemy crystal bowls.
I fell in love with vibration. With the way sound seems to move through the body like ripples across still water. The experience felt both grounding and transcendent, awakening a new sense of curiosity that continues to unfold.
But that is a story for another blog post.
My next journey takes me to Mount Kurama, just outside Kyoto, the sacred birthplace of Reiki, where Mikao Usui is said to have spent twenty-one days fasting and meditating before the practice was revealed to him.
A place where stillness, nature, and spirit seem to speak the same language.
Stay tuned.
Disclaimer: The experiences shared in this article are my personal observations and beliefs. Reiki is considered a complementary wellness practice and is not intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any disease or medical condition. Individual experiences vary. Reiki should not be used as a substitute for professional medical care, mental health treatment, diagnosis, or advice from a licensed healthcare provider. If you have concerns about your physical or mental health, please consult a qualified healthcare professional.
