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Reiki
September 12th, 2015
Honey Badger feels like shit. Third day of chemo. Might throw up. Might not. Here’s Lance to help us through it.
My mom, sister and Atul have been giving me distance Reiki for an hour each day. I am supposed to lie quietly in the dark and think of nothing. To simmer down. I listen to rainforest music and imagine a white fog. They will send me the energy that I need to heal. I had a powerful image once when my mom was giving me Reiki. I was flying in the sky and she was on the ground, and she was half-way between a flat version of the sun and a giant, yellow duck. She was holding a yellow flower, smiling and saying, come and play with me. Come down! But I couldn’t, because I was holding something, and I couldn’t let go.
This is very similar to a story that Atul, our Reiki master, told me about a woman who was wrapped in multiple yards of fabric. A man grabbed onto an edge of the fabric, and started to pull. Soon the woman would be naked. God was at the bar, possibly sitting with my mother the duck, and a man asked why God wouldn’t help her? She doesn’t need my help. She’s still holding to the edge of the fabric in her teeth. When she lets go, I will help her.
When Atul was teaching me to do Reiki, he told me to set an intention with God. I told him I wasn’t sure that I believed in God. He asked if I believed in anything, and I said yes. There are all kinds of energies and things about the universe that I don’t understand, and these may seem like magic or God now, but they may also seem like science later. Atul said, okay, then you just set your intention to God, the universe, or whatever. It may be just for today, I won’t get angry. He said I could ask for his help or my mother’s help as a guide while I am doing it. There is more to it than what I am telling you, but when you do Reiki, you set your intention (or say your prayer) and hold your hand on each of your chakras for 3 minutes. Imagine yourself in a white fog, let the light come in, and listen to soothing music.
And the thing is, even though I am a scientist and a skeptic, there is more out there than I can understand. My mother is supposed to be dead of bone cancer, and she isn’t. And the Reiki has changed her attitude and her life, and she is healthier in spirit than she has ever been. And when I regularly practiced Reiki, I was a nicer, healthier person. I can feel it when they give me distance Reiki. It’s happened too many times for me to discount. Even when they don’t tell me at the time that they are doing it, I know. I feel their heat.
If there is a lesson in this for me, I haven’t found it yet. What am I supposed to let go of? Pride? Skepticism? I try to be open. Open up more? Let myself play? I did finally break down and ask for help during my treatment. At first I turned everyone away. I don’t need help. But I do, and I thought that might be my lesson.
Here’s what happened when I said yes:
When Steve offered to bring some food for my mom (apparently, the most delicious vegetarian chili in the world), I said yes. The kids and my mom are so grateful, and have had it for dinner two days in a row. Zach, apparently, had 5 bowls of it yesterday. Now my mom thinks Steve (of DOFO fame) is the best person in the world. And Runner Girl Stephanie brought over chicken tetrazzini, which everyone loves. And Climber Stephanie stopped by last night to say hi and look at Maddy’s new clothes. And now Meg is bringing over a cooler full of food and some wine. Louise, Mike, Colleen, Richard, Sam, Will, Margaret, Peter and Malak are all helping my kids stay happy and healthy.
And other help – some people have sent beautiful earrings (Rachel and Laura) and scarves (Shelley and Runner Girl Stephanie), and these make me feel loved. Jackie gave me perfume that smells like the forest, and it is just perfect for someone trapped in a hospital room. Amy gave me jelly.
I’m grateful. I’m optimistic. I feel all of you loving me and helping me. If God, the universe, or whatever is helping me, I need it. I accept it. If there is something I need to let go of, I don’t know what it is. Maybe you can help me find it.
test Filed under Stem cell transplant for MS | Tags: chemo, HSCT, reiki, stem cell transplant | Comments (9)9 Responses to “Reiki”
I don’t know you well enough so can’t speak on what you need to let go of. All I can say is what you need to hold onto and that’s hope. What was left in Pandora’s box. All these people reading, their positive energy or Reiki or the simple knowledge that they are thinking about you affecting your neurotransmitter balance, whatever you want to call it. All of that is what stimulates hope, but you have to receive it. And you are. And that’s what’s making your story beautiful.
I promise you there is nothing you have to do, or let go of. Life is full
Life is full of wonder and you are full of wonder. I love you! I support you! Laura
Hold on Honey Badger–You’re already half-way through. I love your blog.
I do believe that people who are connected can make a difference just by thinking about the other. I don’t know why, but it helps. So I am very happy that you are doing this with your family.
Hey and I make a mean/extremely filling veggie lasagna.
honey bear you have the privilege of feeling like shit…..some of us are lighting up the x-ray box and still no treatment…..honey bear it can ALWAYS be worse……that’s hard to hear but true……but hang in there we hang our hope on your shoulders it’s a burden to carry at times….like these……but we hope stilll and wish you strength and love….much love for daring to be first for us!!! walk and crawl with the knowledge on your back you carry the hopes and dreams of the rest of us with ms….you can do it because you must.
Hang in there with the chemo! I’m glad the Reiki is helping connect your energies. I had to read your entry twice because the first time you mentioned thinking about a white fog i thought i read white frog. I was wondering if you selected a white frog as a new spirit animal. I re-read it though: white FOG. Maybe you can consider a helpful white frog who is sitting in your white fog. I hope you have as spectacular a day as you can have while camping out in a hospital for chemo.-c
Heal, grow, heal, grow. Sending to you now and always.
You’ve been learning a lot, and those of us lucky enough to know you are too. We’re all holding your in our thoughts and picturing how beautiful it will be when you’re home again and healthy.
Beautiful. Thank you for sharing your wisdom with us.