Tag animal Reiki

Let Animals Lead®: A specialized form of Reiki rooted in meditation

Nancy Crowe
Dolly, left, and Maggie after a Let Animals Lead® session.

You may hear me talking more about meditation than Reiki these days. That’s because the animal Reiki method I practice, Let Animals Lead®, works through meditation. It’s different from what you may know as Reiki.

Let Animals Lead® was developed by Kathleen Prasad, founder of Animal Reiki Source and co-founder of the nonprofit Shelter Animal Reiki Association, to which I belong. Let Animals Lead® is a specialized form of Reiki, a Japanese stress relief modality: “Rei” stands for spirit or higher power, and “ki” (sometimes seen as “chi”) is the energy that animates every living thing.

Reiki was developed a century ago by Mikao Usui. It was essentially meditation; subsequent teachers added hand positions. These hand positions are used with a human client seated in a chair or lying on a massage table. That was how Kathleen and tons of other practitioners, including me, learned Reiki. Today, Reiki promotes relaxation and healing in spas, private clinics, hospitals and other settings.

As time went on, Kathleen found that “people Reiki” wasn’t always effective with animals … despite the best intentions of the practitioner. Because animals are much more sensitive to energy, touch generally isn’t needed. Animals who have experienced abuse, trauma or illness may even shy away from touch.

Kathleen saw this most acutely when her beloved dog Dakota was sick. He wouldn’t sit still for traditional Reiki, but when she sat quietly in meditation, he settled beside her.

Creating a peaceful space where animals are free to share on their own terms turned out to be a game changer. Thus Let Animals Lead® was born.

I had taken one or two of Kathleen’s earlier classes and practiced animal Reiki, but training with her as a Let Animals Lead® practitioner and teacher allowed me to offer animals and their people something better. It is my honor to see creatures from mice to rescued draft horses join with me and take the lead in their own healing — whatever that means for them.

Is it still Reiki? Yes. Is it more accurately and recognizably described as meditation? Also yes.

In a world where so much seems murky, talking about a discipline that makes animals’ lives better can be clear.

Reiki and religion don’t have to be at odds

Nancy Crowe

Some people may reject Reiki, a Japanese stress relief modality, as incompatible with the teachings of their faith tradition. Reiki is not a religion in itself; people of any spiritual stripe practice, teach and experience the benefits of Reiki. But how does that all work together?

I can only tell you how it works for me, a Presbyterian seminary graduate who found a path as an animal communicator and practitioner of Kathleen Prasad’s Let Animals Lead® meditation method. This method is a specialized form of animal Reiki.

In short: I say my prayers, show up, listen and get out of the way.

Any healing comes from God, whether that happens through me or in spite of me. My job is to create the conditions for healing by listening and holding a peaceful space for the animals and their people.

The Let Animals Lead® animal Reiki method I practice is meditation-based. It’s hands-off unless the animal wishes contact, and there is no manipulation of energy. I allow it to work however it needs to for the animal’s highest good. God knows that better than I do.

Watch me at work and all you’ll see is a middle-aged woman sitting quietly with a dog or cat, or standing in a barn or pasture. I might have Gregorian chant or other meditation music playing softly on my phone. I’m meditating but not in a trance — gotta move quick if a Percheron is about to step on my foot or goats need to be herded back from the neighbor’s field. (Those are two of many possible interruptions; the idea is to take them in stride and carry on.)

My theological grounding is Protestant Christian, but anything I believe or experience is only a tiny part of God’s big picture. Respecting your beliefs and experience is a core value in my life and practice.

I also know animals are deeply connected to a higher wisdom that sustains all of us. Whether their humans call that higher wisdom God, the universe or nothing in particular, the animals are OK with that. So am I.

When animal suffering breaks your heart open

Nancy Crowe
This is one of sixteen malnourished, neglected horses taken from a northeast Indiana farm in 2018. (Photo courtesy Friends of Ferdinand)

Those of us who work with animals — vets, zoo employees, rescue volunteers and practitioners like me — often get asked how we can stand to see animals suffer. Doesn’t it break your heart? Wear you down? Make you hate people?

Sometimes, yes. That’s why we are more prone to compassion fatigue, burnout and even suicide. That is a reality.

So is the need for what we do. The need to create a healthier, kinder world for animals is so huge, in fact, that it takes all of us, whatever our line of work or temperament. Illnesses and injuries can happen even when we are doing our best as animal guardians and professionals. They can lead us into a confusing, agonizing array of questions and decisions. Animal cruelty and neglect, whether we come face to face with it or just hear about it, can leave us wondering about our world.

Several years ago, I worked with six of 16 horses rescued from a severe neglect case (photo above) in my area. When I walked into the barn on that cold morning, I saw emaciated bodies, tangled manes and what looked like untreated infections. All of the horses were in various states of confusion; one had all but checked out and stood vacantly in his stall.

You bet I felt sad. And angry. All the things. But I was there to listen to them and share meditation to help them relax and regroup. Having a way to help allowed me to engage in a way I could not have otherwise.

Besides, the six horses before me were more than their body condition scores or how their human had failed them. They had their own personalities, perspectives and hopes. One knew she would probably not survive and wanted no fuss about that. The mare in the stall next to her just wanted to be with friends. The vacant horse showed me an image of a dark room with a sliver of light peeking in. They didn’t need my pity. They needed to be heard and seen.

This is Millie, whose main concern was being with friends. Whether that happened on earth or in spirit wasn’t as important to her.

It’s OK to cry or be mad as hell. Find whatever help and support you need. Then consider what you can do to make things better. Sit quietly with your dog as she is facing the last months or days of her life. Foster a horse for a rescue. Donate money for hay, cat food or medical expenses. No matter how small the effort may be, it will do more good than turning away or joining the calls for retribution on social media.

A cool book I read a few years ago has lots of ideas to get you started. You can also contact a local shelter or rescue and say you want to channel some heartbreak into good action. They’ll get it. Especially if you follow through.