"For Sato Yoshiko every day had a sameness about it. She would get up and prepare the family's bento or lunch boxes, have breakfast with her husband and their two daughters, walk with the girls to primary school and then head to the Tokyo subway. Here she would stand with the other commuters on the platform, allowing herself to be squeezed into the train carriage. She would be squashed on every side of her body until she no longer felt her own physical boundaries. She would close her eyes and imagine she was anywhere but on the train.
Once at her destination, the Ginza district, she flowed with the crowds arriving at the Mitsukoshi Department store, her workplace. Downstairs at the food hall she donned her uniform and served customers with traditional Japanese sweets. By early afternoon she was worn out and was constantly struggling to remain friendly and kind to her customers and colleagues. Her feet began to ache and her arthritic knee pained her.
Sato's day finished in much the same way it had begun. She returned by train to pick up her daughters, preparing and eating dinner with her family and finally into bed before beginning again the next day.
Sato's father died when he was only sixty and she was devastated. He had always been there for her whenever there had been indecision or difficulties in her life. Her mother, too had relied greatly on her father and was finding his transition extremely hard to comprehend. Sato tried to support her, being the only child, but found that she did not have the inner strength to deal with both her mother's and her own grief. Sato's family and colleagues began to notice that all was not well. She no longer laughed or spoke much. Everyone felt she had closed up and was 'inside' of herself. The doctor diagnosed her as depressed. He prescribed tablets for her but she refused to take them as she was worried they might not be good for her. Her family was uncertain what to do or where to go next.
A colleague of her husband suggested that she go for a Reiki treatment at a local Reiki center. Not knowing what this Reiki was, Sato hesitantly agreed and arrived for the treatment nervous but hopeful.
Her practitioner first talked to her about the treatment. She explained that Sato would be lying down for the treatment but did not need to remove any clothes. The practitioner also set Sato's mind at ease by stating that she would not be placing her hands on any private parts of her body and may not even touch her physically.
Sato learnt that all she had to do was relax and feel 'open' for healing to occur, and it would then be up to her whether or not that healing took place. The practitioner was simply a channel for the Ki to move through and Sato's body would draw on it where it needed and wanted it. Sato felt good about this as it meant that she was not relying on the practitioner to make her better - her own strength would do that. She had always felt that no one could understand her unique problems. This concept of healing as self-responsibility weighed on her but also showed her a doorway that she sensed could lead to recovery along a natural path. This 'Reiki' felt right.
The practitioner told Sato at her first treatment: 'Reiki is not diagnostic. My hands on your body immediately activate the movement of energy."..........to be continued.............
Until next Sunday!
from ~ The Japanese Art of Reiki ~ Bronwen and Frans Stiene