Reiki: Healing or Hokum?

So you’ve booked your first Reiki session. Congrats—you’ve officially crossed the threshold into “Maybe this spiritual stuff does work” territory. Or maybe you're just desperate enough to try anything that doesn’t involve side effects, co-pays, or explaining your trauma to yet another person in khakis.

Either way, you’re in for...something. I mean, I haven’t been Reiki’d into a higher dimension myself, but curiosity (and ADHD) brought you this blog.

Let’s break it down (as best I can without having personally had my aura defragged).

A Quick Peek Into Reiki's Roots

So what is Reiki, actually? It's not just mystical palm hovering. Reiki (pronounced ray-key) is a Japanese energy healing practice developed in the early 1900s by a guy named Mikao Usui. Legend has it, he had a spiritual awakening on a mountain after a 21-day meditation fast—because of course he did—and came back with what he believed was the ability to channel healing energy through his hands.

The word itself combines “rei” (universal or spiritual) and “ki” (life energy), which sounds cool until you realize that’s basically the Japanese cousin of “qi” or “prana” or “The Force.” Practitioners are “attuned” through a lineage system, kind of like getting knighted, but with chakras and hand positions.

Reiki spread from Japan to the West thanks to some powerhouse women healers, particularly Hawayo Takata, who brought it to Hawaii in the 1930s. Since then, it's been quietly vibing in holistic circles, wellness retreats, and anywhere people are looking for relief that doesn’t come in a bottle.

The Setup: AKA The Spa Day That’s Not a Spa Day

You walk in, probably overthinking whether your socks match or if your chakras are, like, emitting visible dysfunction. The room? Dim lights, soft music, crystals doing their best to look casual, and a massage table that whispers, “Just lie down and surrender to the weird.”

You’ll be asked to remove your shoes, maybe jewelry. But don’t worry—your clothes stay on. This isn’t that kind of healing.

The Practitioner: Your Chill Energy DJ

They might be dressed like a yoga teacher who just stepped out of a moon circle. Or they might be in jeans and a hoodie. Either way, they’ll be calm, grounded, and radiating the kind of peace that almost seems slightly suspish.

They’ll explain what’s about to happen. Something like, “I’m going to gently place my hands over or on your body to balance your energy.” Translation: I’m gonna vibe-check your soul. Allegedly.

The Session: Cue the Energy Magic (or Extremely Polite Hovering)

You lie down. You close your eyes. And then... nothing. Or everything.

You might feel:

  • Heat or tingling (even if their hands aren't touching you).

  • A sudden emotional release—laughing, crying, zoning the hell out.

  • Deep relaxation, like you’ve been benched from your own chaos.

Or… maybe you just feel bored and wonder if you remembered to turn off the coffee pot.

There’s no one-size-fits-all response. Some folks float out of the room on a cloud of inner peace. Others walk out thinking, “Was that it?” Either reaction is valid. You're not broken. You're just human. Probably.

Aftercare: The Energetic Hangover (in a Good Way)

Post-Reiki, you might feel:

  • Lighter, like someone hit “clear cache” on your soul.

  • Sleepy, thirsty, or like you need to ugly-cry in the car.

  • Confused but intrigued, like you just experienced spiritual foreplay and want to know more.

Drink water. Be gentle with yourself. Don’t schedule a board meeting immediately after. Or do. I don’t make the rules—just suggestions based on what I’ve heard from the converted.

FAQ: You’ve Got Questions. So Do I.

Do I have to believe in it for it to work? Not sure. Some say belief helps, others say Reiki works regardless. I'm guessing it doesn't hurt to show up with an open mind—or at least a closed mouth and a willingness to chill.

Can it make things worse? Apparently not. Most accounts talk about it being gentle and non-invasive. The worst thing I’ve heard is “I didn’t feel anything,” which—let’s be honest—is still better than side effects with five syllables and a death sentence.

Is it religious? Nope. It’s not tied to any religion. But it is spiritual in the “I don’t have a denomination but I burn sage” kind of way.

Will someone tell me my aura is fucked? Probably not. More likely, they’ll kindly suggest that your energy is “stagnant” or “imbalanced.” Code for: you’re human.

Do I need to do anything during the session? Other than lie there and try not to drool or overthink your grocery list? Nope. Just receive. Whatever that means for you.

So...Is It Worth It?

Look. If you expect Gandalf-level light explosions and walk away with “just” a sense of calm, that’s still a win, my friend. Reiki might not throat punch you with enlightenment, but it often whispers the stuff you’ve been ignoring: Slow down. Breathe. Let that shit go.

Reiki’s not about dramatic Hollywood healings. It’s about subtle shifts, soft landings, and remembering you’re allowed to feel good without earning it. Sometimes healing doesn’t look like a breakthrough—it looks like rest.

Even if it’s just placebo, it’s the best damn placebo you’ve had all month.

And that, my friend, is the real magic. Probably.

Previous
Previous

Stoic Senseis, Volume 2: Seneca's Survival Guide

Next
Next

Feminine Divine Friday: The Quiet Power of Sarada Devi