Animal Wise: Distant healing

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Photo credit: norsez {Thx for 13 million views!} via Foter.com / CC BY-NC-ND

One of the coolest things about Reiki is that, being energy, it is not subject to time or space. Therefore, a Reiki practitioner can work with a client without the use of touch, or without even being in the same room. Or the same country. I can send Reiki to my brother in the Philippines from my Indiana home in the U.S. The energy goes where it needs to go, with no roaming charges.

Still, it’s one thing to believe that Reiki and other complementary healing modalities work hands-on — but the practitioner actually being able to do something for a person or animal miles away? How is that even possible? It’s a tough concept for this skeptical journalist, too, and I can’t explain how it works. I only know that it does.

A friend’s mother’s cat — I’ll call her Maisie — had been anxious, over-grooming to the point that her back legs were nearly bald. My friend mentioned her mom had just installed new flooring and wondered if that could be what was bothering Maisie. In any case, both she and her mom were worried. Wanting to help and knowing I could use the practice, I promised to send Maisie some healing energy.

That afternoon, when I sat down to meditate, I drew all of the Reiki symbols in the air, making sure to include the distant healing symbol. I asked God to let me be a conduit for whatever Maisie, and all humans and animals connected with her, needed. Then I took a few deep breaths and intuitively connected with Maisie, whom I had never met and who lived a couple of hours away. I introduced myself and asked her permission to send healing energy, explaining that she was free to decline or to take as much or as little of the energy as she wished. This is important: Whether distant or hands-on, it’s always up to the animal. If I’d sensed her turning or moving away or felt any apprehension on her part, we would have been done, with me perhaps asking if I could check in with her the next day.

Once I felt Maisie say yes, I pictured her inside a soft bubble of light, enveloped by healing energy from the earth below her and the sky above her. Animals ground with their feet, so it made sense that the new floor, with its unfamiliar feel and smells (along with strange humans in the house installing it), exacerbated whatever other anxiety she felt. I also sent healing energy to the house, envisioning a safe and happy place for all who live or visit there.

After twenty or thirty minutes, I sensed she’d had enough for the day. I thanked her, told her, “You’ve got this,” and closed the session with a brief prayer of thanks. I repeated this for three or four successive days.

It took another week or so before I remembered to ask my friend if her mom had said anything about how Maisie was doing.

“Oh, my gosh, she is doing so much better!” she said. The fur had started to grow back on Maisie’s legs … and she was playing and accepting human affection in a way she had not done in quite a while.

Did I heal Maisie? No. As a Reiki practitioner, I am the string between two cans … Maisie and a higher source, however she might conceive of such, being the two cans. Any healing that happened did so by God’s grace and Maisie’s willingness, in that peaceful space we created, to heal herself.

This is why Reiki works so well with animals, who so often are at the mercy of us humans: They are respected, and they get to choose.

To learn more or schedule a session for your animal friend, visit my Reiki page.

 

Animal Wise: Lost and found

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Photo credit: ~db~ via Foter.com / CC BY-NC-ND

The tiger cat stood on the sidewalk on a sunny Sunday morning, looking around and meowing. When I petted him, he felt very thin. How long had he been out on his own?

I looked up to see a gentleman cutting across the manicured lawns, looking for a cat … but not that one. His was a blue-point ragdoll. I jotted down his number and where he lived, and promised to keep an eye out.

I have two cats, and the older one is barely beginning to tolerate the younger one’s presence. Bringing home a third was not likely to go over well, and yet I felt terrible about just leaving him there. Rock, meet hard place.

Then a woman came by with her dog. She hadn’t seen the ragdoll and didn’t know where the tiger cat belonged. After seeing how friendly he was, she decided she’d take him home and try contacting the shelters in the morning … or maybe keep him. I picked up the cat and helped her get him home. Only then did I realize he’d had a messy accident on me, and I wondered if he was sick.

I went home, cleaned up, and posted the photo I’d taken of the cat on Facebook — my page, our neighborhood association page, and a couple of local lost pet pages. I saw photos of the missing ragdoll cat posted on one of the lost pet pages, so I shared those on my page and the neighborhood page as well.

Over the next couple of days, I sent distant Reiki energy to both cats, those caring for them, those searching for them, and for overall help and healing in each situation. I took my daily walks in the area where the ragdoll cat lived, sending out more energy and hoping to catch a glimpse of the wayfarer. Some animal communicators and other intuitives specialize in locating lost pets. I am not one of them — but I wanted to do what I could.

On Wednesday, I saw a woman outside in that area and asked if she’d seen a ragdoll cat. Her face brightened. That was her cat, and he was home safe and sound. I don’t recall the exact sequence of events she relayed, but a Facebook share someone else saw may have helped bring him home. Score one for social media.

I touched base with the lady who’d taken the tiger cat in. She’d had to take him to the city shelter since the SPCA shelter was full and her dog had gone after him a few times. He was not microchipped.

My heart sank. If no one claimed him, and especially if he was sick, chances were good he’d be euthanized. The lady had done her best, and so had I, but it still felt so overwhelmingly insufficient and sad.

So one happy outcome, one at best unknown. This is one of the hardest aspects of both working with animals and doing energy work. We are forced to come smack up against what we can and cannot control, and we are called upon to keep going and bringing forth the best in ourselves regardless. We get so mired in what we can’t do that we lose sight of what we can do — being vigilant about keeping our cats indoors, watching out for lost pets, contributing to animal welfare efforts, praying for all God’s creatures, being present for them, and more.

Let’s do that.