Tag animal Reiki

Animal Reiki and ‘people’ Reiki: key differences

Nancy Crowe
Woman on massage table in Reiki session
Rescued horse after Reiki session

Animals speak energy like a Ph.D. We speak energy like a kindergartner.

Kathleen Prasad

“You practice Reiki with animals? How does that work?”

Great question! Reiki is a Japanese stress relief modality, and relaxation helps the two-legged and four-legged alike feel and function better. While the benefits are the same, the methods of Kathleen Prasad’s Let Animals Lead® animal Reiki are different from the Reiki you’ll experience in human offices, hospitals, and spas.

I don’t invite the animal to hop up on a massage table (cats leave and horses laugh). The hand positions I learned in my “people” Reiki classes don’t apply, and that’s not because of different anatomies. Animals are much more sensitive to physical space and presence. Touch is unnecessary, even invasive, for them. A person can feel energy from the practitioner’s hands, but a horse can feel energy from a person standing across a pasture.

When I began studying animal Reiki years ago, I used the hand positions with my dog Ellie as I sat with her on the floor. If she had a hot spot on her foot, I lightly held her foot. More often than not, she’d get up and leave. I now understand that was too much for her. When I sat quietly and meditated — and better yet, ditched any expectation about the “problem” or what should happen — Ellie was more likely to come and lie down nearby.

My teacher, Kathleen Prasad, had a similar experience. That’s how she developed the Let Animals Lead® method I now practice. It’s based on meditation, not touch. Moreover, it puts the animals completely in charge of whether and how they participate in a session. They are free to decline. They can come closer, move away, sit, walk around, eat, sleep, etc. while the practitioner holds space in quiet meditation. Letting animals lead is important for a couple of reasons.

First, it respects the animals. They may have been abused, neglected, moved around, treated by veterinarians, or had their hooves worked on for the first time in years. Mind you — rescue efforts and veterinary treatment may be for their best and highest. So is the chance to choose.

That’s why I always ask for the animal’s permission before I begin. If I get a no, either telepathically or through body language, I thank the animal for letting me know and move on.

Second, how much more can animals relax when doing so is up to them? (Raise your hand if you relax on command. Didn’t think so.)

Every animal is different. Some will immediately come and lean on me or want to be petted; others soak in the energy from a distance. It works regardless.

I’ve worked with rescued horses who have rarely, if ever, had a chance to choose or say no to anything. One day a retired draft horse, recovering from trauma, decided he’d had enough and walked back into the shed. I thanked him and moved on to the chickens a few yards away. A short time later, he stuck his big head out of the shed and asked: “You got any more of that?” (I did.)

Another horse, recently rescued from a kill pen, declined the session and moved away. A few minutes later, she came back to where I stood at the pasture fence and asked for more. This happened several times in the course of half an hour or so. She was astonished that interacting was her choice. The next time I saw her, I tentatively held up my hands, telling her I’d lower them or step away if she preferred. She placed her head in my hands and stood perfectly still. (The photo above is of her drifting into a post-session nap.)

Animals understand energy better than we do. A horse senses the presence of a predator in the distance. A cat curls up next to someone who is sick. The kids’ new puppy stays away from Mom because he’s the only one in the house who knows how angry she is.

Just don’t ask that puppy to stay still for the practitioner. He doesn’t have to … and Mom is welcome to join in.

Routines and rituals add spice to life

Nancy Crowe

After being fed at 4 p.m. sharp (or preferably before), Lucy the black tortie settles into a chair to supervise my yoga practice. If I have the nerve to still be sitting in said chair, she sits and looks at me. Time to get moving.

Around 8:30, I can count on our younger cat to pace around pointedly until I follow her to the room where her bowls and litter box are kept. I give her a bedtime snack of three or four kibbles. We say our prayers and goodnight.

Our shepherd mix, whose anxiety casts the world as predictably unpredictable, knows she gets a dental treat at 7 p.m. If it’s not forthcoming by, say, 6:55, she will follow me around, panting, until she gets it.

Most of our animal friends expect certain things to happen at certain times with certain humans — comings, goings, feeding, walks, turnout, rides, bedtime. (Some animals I work with know when it’s time for my Reiki rounds, too!) Departures may be tolerated, but not especially welcomed.

According to this Brain Pickings article, routine contains everyday chaos while ritual imbues the mundane with the magical. With animals, I think those distinctions blur. Rescues in particular find magic in the most basic daily happenings. Over the last 15 months, they’ve dealt with disrupted routines along with us. Perhaps they’ve found magic in helping us develop new ways to contain our chaos.

Variety may be the spice of life, but routines and rituals add different spices — cinnamon, perhaps, or turmeric — to sustain us in an unsteady world. Like a good stretch, or bedtime prayers and purrs, they affirm that God is good and life, even in some small way, still makes sense.

Let animals know about fireworks, thunderstorms

Nancy Crowe
Animal communication and meditation help animals frightened by fireworks, storms, and other loud noises.
After a ground-shaking firework went off nearby, I talked it through with the horses.

Five horses and I had just settled in for a Reiki session on a summer morning at a nonprofit equestrian center. Reiki is a meditation-based stress reduction modality that helps horses — especially during a busy season of camp, riding lessons and equine assisted therapy sessions — relax.

Suddenly a loud boom shook the pasture. The horses scattered, then huddled. Then they looked at me.

This wasn’t an isolated incident. A nearby pop-up fireworks store kept demonstrating its wares, neighbors were intermittently setting off their own, and nightfall would bring formal fireworks displays.

But this boom happened when I was there, and damned if we weren’t going to get a teachable moment out of it.

I switched into animal communication mode. Both animal communication and Reiki help animals cope with stressful events … but you know what they say about the right tool for the job, and it was time to talk about what was happening.

“Yeah, that was scary,” I told the horses, “but we’ve got this.”

Silently, using images along with the words, I explained that it’s OK to be unnerved (they’d seen me jump too!) but it was just noise and they could handle it. I also let them know they’d hear more of it in the coming days and nights. I pictured them standing together at night, alert but not panicked, amid the pops and bangs and streaks of light.

Then we continued with Reiki.

Many horses, dogs, and other animals (not to mention humans) are frightened to the point of severe distress by fireworks. The ASPCA offers strategies to help them cope with both fireworks and thunderstorms; ask your veterinarian if you think sedation might be needed.

Otherwise: Keeping calm yourself, letting the animals know what’s happening, and affirming your confidence in their ability to cope can speak louder than the booms.