Strange events and remarkable coincidences filled my day.
First came the warmth and oxytocin left from the night before. Then I met my Jungian therapist and began unpacking a six-hour medicine walk I had taken alone at sunrise in the Indian jungle. One session covered only half of it, and even that felt mind-opening.
A series of chance encounters then brought me to the home of a Reiki practitioner. We agreed that on my birthday, the following Sunday, he would initiate me into Reiki.
I had been imagining a massage that brings energy work and Tantra together. This initiation felt like the final piece.
I told him what I had been experiencing:
“There is a lot of energy in my hands. People tell me that my hugs feel healing. My touch can lead them into a trance, start a wave of energy or bring them closer to the unconscious.
“I never try to make this happen. Something seems to move through me, and I allow it to flow. I need someone who can help me understand it.”
He agreed. On 2 March, my thirty-second birthday, I would receive a formal introduction and initiation into Reiki.
Sometimes I look at myself with amazement. Before my father’s death, I was an atheist. Now I initiate people into Tantric practice, explore energy through touch, receive rituals and initiations, and take shamanic journeys at sunrise in the Indian jungle.
Universe, please continue. I enjoy this game. I choose it, and I choose to play.