Waka 1

I am alone here Alone need not be lonely Trees stand tall rooted Compost takes hold of Earth’s breath The force of love is relentless A vision with eyes Staring like the owl at dusk Full moon sighs tides rise Reflections of love and desire Nothing quells The Golden Mind The sand bleeds parched soles Emptying clamshells at midnight The shoreline is full Hermit crabs at home anywhere Moments wash away forever Camel humps desert The cactus knows no limit Needles poke through flesh The answer is not questioned The question is not answered The night sleeps again Sunrise lifts human blindness Hands stretch across time Seeing is not believing Rumi speaks sunset arrives River almost still A heart beating quickly Mind needs to slow down A breeze tickles the tall grass The grass returns to its post I breathe a half breath Confusion breeds illusion Dry tears shake my grip The river does snot know lies Cool tranquil waters refresh What is the next step? I can’t wait and do nothing Tadpoles scurry about The frog sits home unmoving Speed takes much time and effort

i am Not a Healer

It has been forty minutes in an altered brain rhythm. We have slipped from below ordinary consciousness, below psychic all the way down to spiritual healing. It is a state where words, thoughts and actions are not ruled completely by the ego. The shadow has quieted down enough to allow the True Self to speak and be present. The answers are usually simple, a word, a phrase or maybe even just a syllable. In this case, very simple: “Yes”. This is life as a Reiki Practitioner for me.

I am not a Healer. I am fortunate to get to participate in healing experiences but not Healer. At times I am passed information intuitively but not a psychic. Have facilitated many spiritual counseling session but am not The Counselor. Teachings have spilled out of mouth initiating growth and development almost on a regular basis, often daily, but I am The Teacher. There have been more situations than I could possibly count when I “read” someone’s spiritual history at first glance, but am not a telepath. I have no particular skills or talents of a supernatural nature. I am not anyone special, at least not anymore so than the next man or woman. How could I be? Why would the Divine give one child any more gifts than another? Arrogant I am; but not that arrogant, at least not at this moment.

I have been noticing lately how many folks claim to be Healers, Shaman, Teachers and a host of other grand positions. If so, why are they still working with the people they have “healed”? More importantly, why would anyone want to be “healed”? If a Shaman or Healer rids them of their blemish, how will they know what to do next time they encounter a similar obstacle?

Where did this concept of such demonstrations of Grace begin to be labeled as talents and/or skills? What extreme arrogance I have would have to posses to think these are something I am in charge of or belongs to me. Like Healing and auto maintenance are both skill sets that can be memorized or categorized similarly. One can learn how a Suzuki Samurai works and have complete mastery over returning it to its homeostasis when trained properly, at least in most cases. But Healing is not that way, or should I say, my experiences have been contrary to that. So what skills or talents do I posses that contribute to me in working with others? I Pray a lot. If I was to grasp on to one skill it would be that I Pray a lot. Another one that comes to the surface is I am relentless. I push and push and push rarely accepting defeat or limitations. I barrel through without allowing fear to trump the possibility of Healing, mine or someone else’s. I have great Faith in Healing. Although I am not sure Faith is an honest portrayal. I have experienced and witnessed time and time again the Will and Courage rise up from within us for greatness to really call it Faith. Faith implies believe, I do not believe in anything. I wait till I have enough evidence and that is what I exist on- evidence not Faith.

After fifteen years of laying my hands on people, holding their hands while they shared their deepest fears and suffering, witnessing their first Prayer since childhood and seeing that look in their eyes that can only be sparked with the Divine, I would not be honest to say I have Faith. I once had Faith, I once believed in healing and there was a time a when I thought I was “special” or “gifted”.

I used to live with a guy who was divorced and shared custody of his 11-year-old daughter who was a Downs Syndrome kid. She was a bossy kid but loved to sit and watch me Pray and complete Reiki self-treatments when she stayed with us on weekends. She would watch me sometimes for several hours riveted. I remember before meeting Katie, I heard people talking about how being around a “special needs” child teaches us many things. I did not know they were talking about what she taught us about patience and compassion was her patience and compassion, not ours. I learned from her how hard it must be to live in a world where those around you can easily understand each other but have no clue what I am trying to tell them. How much patience it must take to watch us fools try to get her to be something she is not, but still love us. What love and healing her presence brought to others and me. Not because a “special needs” kid could tie her shoe or cut her own noodles. Because she put up with our lack of understanding of her world relentlessly and loved us in spite of our ignorance. At times it was unbearable to me the gap between her willingness to love and accept me versus mine to her. Katie was one of the few Healers I have known in my life.

I remember the first “miracle” I experienced with Vibrational energy. It was 1993 and I was a Radio Shack manager. I ran many stores but this owe was located at a little mall. They sent me this young woman to help out since I was low of staff. She was attractive, fashionable and friendly but didn’t have a clue what a capacitor or integrated circuit was. Hey, I needed the help. One day I was in my office and she came in crying uncontrollably. I asked, “Hey what’s going on?'

“I just left the doctors office and they confirmed I have cancer in my liver.”

I was stunned. She may not even have been 21 at this point. I didn’t know what to do but somehow this spilled out of mouth without thinking, “I have just begun receiving training in some kind of Vibrational healing through touch. I have not tried it on anyone yet but I would be willing to try it with you.” Just like that manager became human being.

“Oh my God! I was u all night last night watching TV because it couldn’t sleep. I saw this show about people that do that and was wondering if there was anybody in New Jersey who does it. YES! I would love to try this if you would be willing”.

I put my hands on her shoulders and Prayed for about five minutes or so, maybe longer. I saw colors and felt warmth. It was eerie in a good way. I didn’t know how to stop or what one does yet, so I just sat back down at my desk. She was crying but with different tears this time. A week later she came back to work, ran in and hugged me. She had just left the doctors office and there were not traces of cancer. Nothing. The ran the tests several times and found nothing. About a year later I received training in Reiki, and have practiced some form of Reiki daily since January 26th, 1995. I have witnessed many miracles. It is humbling every time. It lets me know my place in the grand scheme of things. Not very big for the record.

I am not Healer. I have no particular skills or talents. My name is michael. I like to Pray. Join me.

One Year: 2.14.2009

One Year: 2.14.09

It was a snowy day in the mountains of southwest North Carolina. I had worked there as caretaker for only two months. I lasted longer than I thought. I had not been so abused and disrespected in my life as during those two months. I had finally had enough. I told the owner of the Glen Choga Lodge I was leaving. I packed up my van in the snow. He said, “Why don’t you stay the night since it is snowing so badly, and leave in the morning.”

I was tired and miserable but my gut said, in the infamous words of Eddie Murphy, “Tiptoe the fuck out!” But I felt bad for the old man; he was sick and I knew I was leaving him in a bad way. To show respect to the old jerk I decided to stay the night, “OK, I’ll leave in the morning.” I stayed the night, slept a little late in the morning and when I made it to the kitchen to heat up a cup of tea on the wood-burning stove, I saw the envelope with my name on it “Michael”. I opened it and read the check he made out to me, five hundred bucks short! I waited till he came out and before I could day a word, “I reckon you should make yourself scarce and get on out of here. You are not welcome here any more.”

“But what about my pay? This is off by $500!”

“I’ll get it to you at the end of the month, now get on out of here!”

“I want my money! I will not leave without my money!”

He made a call to the closest police department, Andrews Township about twenty-five minutes away. I heard him say to the officer on the phone, “Persona non grata”. My Spanish is weak but I knew what that meant. They arrived about thirty minutes later and we both told our sides of the story. I was escorted off the property minus $500 by the two officers. It was a Tuesday late afternoon when my van winded around the mountains toward Asheville. Everybody I met since the day I arrived in North Carolina told me, “You should go to Asheville, you will love it there. Lots of people just like you.” I had no plan, so Asheville would work for the next few days until I start heading north towards New Jersey, my default setting.

I spent a week in Asheville and felt insulted when I left that everybody thought I was just like them; they were a bunch of pseudo-hippies playing spiritual New Age gurus. I ran for cover and headed towards Boone, another place I was supposed to love. I did. When I left Boone, a few days later, I directed the van east towards the ocean thinking I would head north from there. Little did I know that the next five months were going to spent living and traveling out of my van, up and down the east coast of the USA. I learned a lot and experienced all kinds of stuff; some of which I would prefer to leave behind and did. Along the way, I met and became friends with some incredible people. Some of them have become Reiki students and I had the opportunity to share Reiki with many folks. I guess Virginia and North Carolina are not Reiki hot spots.

In those five months, I was fortunate to receive teachings from several great teachers. Two of them being Grandmaster T.K. Shih in Danbury, Connecticut and Tenzin Wangyal Rinpoche in Charlottesville, Virginia. I slept in more than twenty-five different homes during this period, mostly arranged through The Couchsurfing Project. I happened to spend a great deal of time around university campuses and the students. The adolescent slut in me seemed to attract many sweet young things into my life to confuse and bewilder me; it worked. I managed to somehow not have sex with any of them. There is one that I regret that decision but that is another story that I won’t tell.

I was applying for jobs at Princeton and other universities along the east coast with varied responses and interest. I am not sure how, but I ended up on some kind of recruiters list for international work since I applied for a project in Liberia. I didn’t get the project in Liberia but was offered a position teaching English in South Korea. I said yes without much thought, maybe an hour or so. They called me a couple of days later, “Michael, if we paid you an extra 600,000 won per month, paid for your plane fare here and sent you to Japan to complete your work visa, would you come in two weeks instead of two months from now?” I thought about this for nearly two minutes, “Sure, I think I can do that.” Twelve days later with all my stuff stored and legal stuff rushed through, I was on a flight to Seoul-Incheon International Airport. I made it to my new room after 1:00am and unpacked most of my stuff, shaved and showered with cold water since I could not figure out how to turn on the hot water and went to bed after 3:300am to rest before starting work in the morning. That was July 16th, more than six months ago.

I get to bow many times every day now. I get to spend at least one chunk of time weekly at the local Jimjilbang, my other favorite thing about Korea next to bowing. I got involved in NaNoWriMo and wrote the bulk of a novel in one-month totaling over 55,000 words in November, and another 20,000 in December. And no, I had never written a novel or fiction before. I still have trouble identifying myself as a writer but besides teaching, sleeping, Reiki and meditation; I invest more of my time and creative energy into writing than anything else. I guess that makes me a writer? Or lacking in diverse activities.

I remember crying on my cell phone driving the mountains of western North Carolina talking to a friend with both joy and sadness about my episode at the lodge earlier that day. It was Valentines Day and I was a mess. In spite of myself, things have worked out better than I possibly could have dreamt up in a fantasy novel about a mysterious man traveler who ends up teaching English to Korean elementary kids while facilitating Reiki trainings on Skype with folks from three continents. I am glad that the powers that control the Universe have a more fruitful plan for my life than I do. If left to me, I am fairly certain I would still be sleeping in the homes of American college girls half-naked for the rest of my life, or till arrested for some awful act of disrespect on the soul and body of one of my hosts.

One year, twelve months and a pile of days, memories and miles. And who was it that said there is no God?

Eyes Open

Eyes Open

I had the opportunity earlier this month to participate in a Reiki Meet Up in Seoul, South Korea. Since Reiki is not very popular here in Korea, I was excited at the opportunity to share and receive some Reiki, and meet some good people. I was not disappointed. The group had lots of positive energy and everybody was respectful of each other. I felt welcomed from the minute I arrived and as usual, as a male, I was in the minority. I was grateful there was another male present, the group facilitator. In all, the group was made up of nine people; a few had never experienced Reiki previously and seemed to have very positive experiences. As is typically the case, I find the “proof” of Reiki success is in the change in the color and brightness of the eyes, cheeks and skin of each person as they slowly eased off the table. Our face and energy say what we are not always able to communicate verbally.

It was during the actual “table time” itself that has caught my attention and reflection since then. I have been fortunate to receive training from a very dedicated and focused Reiki Teaching Master who I think would prefer to stay anonymous, so I will honor that intention. She has instilled in me the wisdom of utilizing all our resources to support someone’s process. I am speaking specifically about using the eyes as a means of transmitting Reiki. I leave my eyes open when working with someone else. I know this has become rare these days in the Reiki community but I have had enough experience to convince me of its merits. In fact, I consciously ask for Reiki to flow through the eyes, belly, root, feet,and the hands, and of course the heart center. Why place limits on Reiki? I find using all three eyes increases the intensity of the energy. My experience is that the eyes are more powerful than the hands, almost without except. The energy tends to be cleaner and tighter. I know others access their eyes during Reiki counseling, I do not understand why it is not consciously included during hands-on work. That is none of my business. I do what I do because it has been effective for me, and those I have been fortunate to pass on Reiki Teachings.

Another added benefit besides the increased energy is increased focus. My experience has been that I am more present and focused when I look at whom and where the energy is directed. My whole Self is present. I do not drift and space out as much as I used to with my eyes closed. I do not get lost in my own stuff, or get caught up in things that I do not need to be getting involved in when working with someone else. Like most Reiki Practitioners, I take our responsibility serious and try my best to honor and respect those who have been sent our way. I feel if I can stay present even a pinch more, it is worth my effort.

A third reason I appreciate working with my eyes open is the added opportunity to “see” the physical effects of the session. Seeing their breathing slow, the body relax, eyes stop twitching, belly rising and lowering naturally and all the other physical signs that I missed with my eyes closed. Since I first received Reiki Attunements and training, I have sensed what other's process and systems functioning. This is an inner process and supports the core of Reiki for me. I am grateful I have been guided to not stop there and include visual evidence of what is happening as well. Again, why limit the possibilities? I do not say this from the perspective that I do not have enough faith in Reiki to do what it needs to do, like most of us; I have experienced and witnessed shifts, changes and transitions that cannot be accurately described due to their at times miraculous nature. Reiki has changed my life and I have significantly more Faith in Reiki than myself. That is why I want to give myself every opportunity to stay focused, present, engaged and aligned with the Reiki lineage as much as possible. Reiki is an honor and I want to embrace that honor to whatever lengths I can. I know there has been questions and conversations about how much intention matters in Reiki but my experiences to date strongly support the power of intention and its effectiveness. If my intention is to include my whole body and being in the process, how can it not increase the effectiveness of the process for all involved? If folks ask for Reiki to pass through their hands, why stop there?

This is not to judge or disrespect any other method that we practice as Reiki Practitioners; I am just sharing my experiences. This reflection came about from this Reiki Meet Up I participated in when folks were sharing about their process and how they didn’t know where their hands were, or where other's hands were, etc. Keeping our eyes open and still maintaining our connection to the Source of Reiki seems a positive way to support our work. I hope for those who give it a try find the same positive effects that I have experienced.

Peace and love,
michael

Returning to Well

After about a week of feeling stuffed, exhausted and drained from taking an anti-biotic for the first time since the mid-nineties, it was time to get well again. My co-worker insisted I get an injection before I get worse. Out of lack of energy to argue, I agreed. We called our manager and she said my insurance can be used anywhere and that I should definitely get an injection. My inner resistance to THAT kind of treatment was suppressed due to not knowing how or what to do otherwise here in Cheonan. I don’t speak the language and nobody I really know is involved in the kinds of treatment I would naturally choose. I would go before work the next morning; I was about to enter the world of western medicine that I left behind more than fifteen years ago in the middle of South Korea.

I went to bed late, my typical method of resistance that extends the day to avoid tomorrow. I slept later than was helpful, which reduced morning meditation and Reiki. Certainly more evidence of inner resistance when I need to support my system greater. It was beautiful outside and I started heading in the direction my co-worker who lives across the street from me said I could find a hospital for my injection. When I arrived at the corner I was directed to, I looked for the hospital and only saw a children’s hospital. I searched the area around the corner and saw a sign written in both HanGul and English: Oriental Medical Clinic. I smirked and walked in the building trying to figure out which floor to go to since I could not read the information on the elevator. I walked back outside and looked up at the green and white sign and counted the floors- one, two, three. It is on the third floor. I made a point of memorizing the name in HanGul to find it once I made it to the second floor. I can read HanGul; I just don’t know what anything means yet. I entered the elevator with a handful of other people. There were two young schoolgirls dressed in uniforms that giggled and put their hands over their mouth at seeing a foreigner on the elevator. How do they think we made it to the top floor of the World Trade Center without elevators?

The elevator doors opened, I turned left, no, I turned right and there was the same kind of white and green sign with the same words and an arrow. I followed the arrow and when I turned the corner, I could smell the sweet and pungent fragrance of ginseng, schizandra and a host of other Asian herbal remedies filling my clogged nostrils with an aroma that woke up my whole system. This I understand.

I opened the two glass doors with a twisted wooden branch as door handle and made note that like homes, restaurants and schools: medical clinic are also shoeless. A pleasing sight to add to the aroma that welcomed me to the clinic. I approached the desk cautiously knowing the hard part was about to arise, speaking to the receptionists who probably speak no English. I was correct, they both froze when I spoke and looked away as if they were hoping I would magically disappear or become fluent in HanGul when they turned their heads back. I didn’t. I pointed, my latest skill, to my throat and made a coughing sound, they acknowledged somewhat and pointed for me to sit down in the waiting area. A few nurses walked by and covered their mouths while they giggled at the foreigner trying to receive treatment without communication. I immediately felt shame and compassion for all the Latinos I dismissed as customers due to language in the mid-eighties when working for Radio Shack as a Retail Sales Manager. Karma has a good memory; it lasts from lifetime to lifetime and certainly remembers 1985.

About fifteen minutes later I was guided by a nurse dressed in pink by my shirt sleeve towards the back area to a gold curtain which the nurse pointed for me to get up on the small carpeted table and lie down, I did. When I wasn’t doing it properly, instead of returning to the pointing method, she just moved me to where she wanted me the way that nurses do. A few minutes later, a woman, I assumed the clinician of whatever form of treatment they do, entered the little curtained off area and said, “Hello”.

English!

She asked me several question about my symptoms including typical Asian treatment concerns like, “How are your bowel movements?” “Are you sleeping OK?” “Have you had an diarrhea?” Have you been eating well?” This conversation was taking place while she was pressing her hands into various points around my digestive system. Each time I made a face or sound, she pressed again deeper and asked, “Which hurts more this or this?” She then asked, “Have you ever had acupuncture before?

“Yes. Chinese acupuncture in America.”

“Have you ever taken any herbal (with the “h” pronounced) remedies?”

“Yes, many including ginseng.”

“Do you like ginseng? Does it make your stronger?”

“I do like ginseng. It gives me more energy but sometimes I get shaky from it.”

“Are you allergic to anything” She pointed to her arms and makes motion to illustrate hives, “Hives?”

“I cannot take alcohol, and my mother, father and brother are allergic to penicillin.” It did not seem necessary to say they were allergic to penicillin since they are not alive anymore. “I have never had any, since they told me I would be allergic too.”

“Korean acupuncture is more painful than Chinese. This point on the bottom of your foot will hurt, please take a deep breathe.” I did but it still sent a sharp pain through my right foot and ankle, which lasted only five seconds. “I give you three day supply of herbs for you to take, come back at 6:00p.m. since it takes three hours to make. You come back Thursday see me. OK?”

“Yes, I get off work at 6:00. I can do that.”

“OK. Twenty minute, needles. Just rest. OK?”

“Yes.” And she was gone. It was only a matter of minutes before I could feel the little twitches and pulsing of the energy shifting and moving throughout my system. It felt good to be placing my well being in the hands of someone like her doing something like this. After a week of anti-biotic (anti-life) and cough medicine, it felt good to be treated in a familiar manner again.

That was Tuesday morning, it is now Friday night and I feel the best I have since the day I stepped off the plane in Incheon-Seoul Airport on July 15th. My body feels healthy again and my cough and sinus congestion are almost completely gone. It took sickness for me to notice my body was not operating optimally. As usual, when looking for the hospital to take an injection I did not want, I wandered blindly till I found what I really needed, as usual, in spite of myself. The Universe sure is efficient!

Exposed

“So, what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“You asked me to come and meet you at nearly midnight and you look awful.” He looks directly into her eyes intently, “So, what’s wrong?”

She flinches and sits back in the wooden chair in the back room of Soma Coffeehouse. “You really are intense aren’t you? No small talk, no how is work or anything, just ‘So, what’s wrong?’ She says mimicking him and what she thinks is austere facial and body expressions. “Fine. I am miserable, are you happy?”

“Why on earth would I be happy about you being miserable? OK, so what’s going on lately? Have you been practicing Reiki, Yoga, meditation? What have you been eating and drinking? Let’s start with the basics and we can go from there.”

She sighs heavily and Miho notices her hesitation and her face drooping with shame. He decides that they need to go another route, Natalie is not ready to jump right in. “Natalie, how about we take a moment to do some breathing and get connected to the Reiki lineage. Maybe that will get us both in a place where we can move forward without the ego and emotions in the way.”

“Thanks Miho. I am mess and really need some help. What should I do?”

“Let’s just take a few deep breathes, relax and let our brain rhythms slow down a bit.” They both close their eyes while sitting in a public coffee house and take some deep breathes, hers are deeper and heavier than his. His are gentle; hers are weighted and carry a lifetime of exhaustion in each breath. He notices her relaxing just enough to move forward, “Now. Ask to connect to the Usui Reiki lineage. Let the lineage strengthen you and get you aligned. Feel the lineage and its Presence fill you up. Allow Reiki to expand in you and become you. Ask the Higher Self to be present, in charge of you and this whole process. Just your Higher Self and mine connecting and working together. No more Miho or Natalie, just the Higher Selves doing their thing. When you feel it, slowly open your eyes enough to see but not enough to let the whole world in. Take your time, we do not want to force or manufacture anything. Reiki is about genuine experiences and no pretending or letting imaginations have a field day with us.” She barely opens her eyes enough to see out and make eye contact with Miho. They both share a gentle and unintended smile. “How are you doing?”

She smiles softly and barely moves her lips to speak, her voice is still, gentle and without any of the drama and attitude that was present just a few minutes ago. Her face has a nice blush tone to it and her eyes are clear. “I feel good. It is the first time I have really felt Reiki in a while, too long. Miho, I need to get back to where I was just a few months ago. I miss feeling this way, being this way and being of service to others. I have become very self-centered, selfish and fragmented. What happened?”

“It feels good to see you this way again. This other Natalie is not needed or helpful to you or anybody else. The real Natalie is calm, focused, committed and cares deeply for others and their well being. You are needed Natalie and we need you to do what your Higher Self signed up for you to do.” He slows down even more, “You can’t do this if you are all caught up in your personal dramas and letting the ego run your life. Why have you been so fragmented?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do. There are no victims here and you have been trained in inner discernment through Reiki. Why are you so fragmented? Can you feel your body?”

“Yes, I can now. I have not felt my body in a while.” A small but visual hesitation before she continues allows her to slow down, “I have been doing some things I didn’t used to do when I felt connected and grounded. For one, I have started drinking coffee again in the morning and sometimes at night when out with friends. Of course, now I don’t sleep as well either. Which makes me want to drink coffee the next morning even more. Miho, my life is moving so fast these days, I never stop to slow down and barely do any Reiki or meditation in the mornings anymore. I have not been to the Yoga studio since May and my body is cramping and stiff a lot. There is very little energy flow and I feel it.”

“I am not surprised, caffeine pokes holes in the energy field and allows all kinds of stuff to latch onto us. I experience the same thing with sugar products, I get wired, anxiety, ungrounded and my field becomes like Swiss cheese. Who knows who and what I drag home with me after some ice cream and a cup of coffee?”

“OK, so I have been eating a lot of sugar too. And, when my friends and me go out, I drink a couple of glasses of wine. I rarely get drunk so I convince myself it is OK. What is the big deal right? If everybody else can, why can’t I? Of course, I know better. I have worked with enough folks to see just how dramatic alcohol in the bloodstream does to the energy field, digestion and mood. Then, the next morning, I need coffee to get started and some sweats to eat so I can get going. No wonder I don’t sleep anymore. That is another thing. Since adding all this stuff back into my life, my dreams have changed dramatically, they are darker too. I have gone from Reiki Teaching dreams to dreams filled with violent sex, fighting with everybody and I feel like the whole world is in bed with me now while sleeping. I can feel everybody’s thoughts and emotions, as if I am connected right to them.”

“Well you are! That is what happens when we let our field get open like that. And you are right, you do know better. I do too, but every now and then I convince myself like you that I can do it, somehow it will be different this time. And we actually buy this crap and ignore the Inner Voice that knows where it will lead us. I am so glad that I have been away form that stuff for a while now. Sleep is better and I don’t have that feeling like being spaghetti with all kinds of cords knotted and twisted inside of me from every person I come in contact with. The good news is that Reiki can help you get back to being Natalie again. But like everything else, it is not free. You will need to recommit yourself to doing your work. You are needed and matter. We have work to do and don’t have time to keep buying the crap that the ego sells us. We have to let the Higher Self be in charge and stop playing all these games.” He pauses long enough to make sure they have solid eye contact, “Are you ready to do your work, or do you still want to play around?”

Natalie’s eyes and focus are still and unwavering. She does not move anything in her body, as if she is sleeping while completely alert and aware of what is going on inside and outside of her. Her strength and courage are visible in her face, posture and tone, “Yes I am ready. I want to be of service again. I miss being me and the way I feel when connected up with Reiki. What do I have to do?” Natalie’s voice is steady and firm.

“You just did it. Remember, what we say and do matters. They are not just words and thoughts. They are real and hold an imprint. Everything we think and feel affects others. We are all connected and we all need to do out part, even though it may seem small or irrelevant, it natters. We matter.” Miho reaches across the Maple table and takes Natalie’s hands in his. His gaze does not budge, nor does hers. They stay locked in this moment for what seems like all of time but in linear time, just a moment. That is all it took, just that moment of connection and acknowledgement. What else is needed?

Bowing: An Energetic Transaction

On my first morning here in Korea, I entered a local “deli” to buy something quick to eat before starting work. I had arrived in my room around 1:00a.m. and did not go to sleep till nearly 3:30, with a wake up time of about 8:30a.m. The “deli” is not what I would typically call a deli but do not know the correct name for it. The woman prepares and sells different kinds of Kimchi and stews, hot and ready to go. I did not know what I was thinking when I walked in the door of her place, she bowed and said some kind of formal greeting that I know now as “Annyeong-haseyo”, good morning/afternoon/evening. But the bow is what caught me in my tracks. I had been given the information that many Koreans still bow before I left the states. I was a little excited but did not really grasp what bowing really is till that morning of little sleep after a twenty-four hour flight and a long ride from the airport to my new place in Cheonan. She bowed as casually as someone who has done so without thinking thousands of times. She did not know how strengthening and affirming that common gesture was for me. I knew I had reached my destination and was in the right place. My trip to Korea was where I supposed to be.

For the last two months I have reflected many times on what actually happens during the process of bowing that is so powerful. Is it the honoring of another person’s Self? The honoring of the Self? Is it the conscious decision that whatever we may be doing at that moment, the decision to be focused and present right now is all that matters, because there is a human being in front of me and that requires my complete attention. We are acknowledging each other, and I sense our ancestors and histories as well. Very few people do half-hearted bows here. They do half-hearted all kinds of other things, but bowing is different. Even entering the E-Mart or Lotte-Mart, the Korean equivalents of Wal-Mart and K-Mart, there is a person inside the door that bows to every single person that enters and leaves. I do not understand how, but they mean it and are genuine every time to every person, even to the foreigner who wears a backpack and has this stuff growing on his face all the time.

Where does the bow come from? I do not mean mean its history, although I will assume it is a Chinese tradition initially. I am referencing the actual energy of the bow itself. It is too powerful for each one of us regular people to muster up the kind of energetic exchange that a bow transmits hundreds of times a day. It is like a shot if Reiki, Qi Gong, Prayer and a loving hug from your best friend and grandmother all in one, without touching or saying a word- Taiqi in its purest form.

I get to share bows with all three of the women that serve lunch in the school cafeteria daily. All of the clerks, stockers and employees at the grocery store by my home almost daily. I enter the cell phone place on my way home just to share a bow with the guy who owns the shop where I purchased my cell phone, because his bows go right through me and fill my spine every time without exception. It is worth the two steps to his shop to receive his warm smile and bow. When walking the halls at school, most of the kids and all the teachers share a bow with me; it does not get old for them or me. Each time, the exchange is present and refreshing to me, the Real me. It is hard to be miserable, angry or resentful when bows are plentiful to ruin my negativity, like it or not. I have been aware of what a challenge it is to hold onto whatever self-centered or selfish thoughts and emotions I am clinging to while being immersed in bowing. Bowing is in my spiritual lineage and blood. I think if we were able to trace DNA to see who has the bowing gene, I would be profiled as such. It is who I am, it just took a long plane ride to find this out.

Two specific bows stand out to me at this moment. The first being my initial introduction and hello to a Reiki Teaching Master I met in Kyoto, Japan. He came up the steps of the subway station in his black monastic attire and bowed before saying hello. I felt him, the Reiki lineage and our Inner Connection at that moment. Our shared history finally had the opportunity to greet each other in physical form. The acknowledgment that this particular bow shared is still part of my dreams at night and Reiki sessions in the morning. In that bow, my connection to Mikao Usui, the man who rediscovered Reiki and the Reiki lineage was immediately strengthened and fortified. I am grateful for this bow and our meeting. I know we will share another bow someday.

My other favorite bow happens Monday through Friday. One of the women that shares office space with me and I, do a mini bow while she is sitting at her desk every day when I enter the space. Her smile and warmth tickle my core and remind me why I am a teacher and what being a teacher means. I find her attractive on many levels and since there are some language barriers, bowing is the time we connect and acknowledge each other. I wish bowing could be the method of getting to know women for me in all attractions; it is honest, pure, respectful and loving. The other stuff that trends to cloud my attractions to women dissipate in that brief second we share. I want to expand that statement to include all relations, male, female, friends or otherwise.

And I thought bowing was just for spiritual rituals and old folks.

The football player florist

Sitting on a wooden bench on this beautiful fresh low-sixties degree night, I am full of hope and life. It rained several times today and the air, earth and its inhabitants have received the cleansing that soft cool rain brings with it. The nights are starting to cool off a bit and that makes walking, writing and sleeping all the more enjoyable. Tonight was exceptionally clean and crisp. I planned on a short walk and a stop at the grocery store and maybe the incredible plant shop near the park that I wanted to explore on my way home. Along the way, I fell in love with the night air and so much for groceries, plant shops and short walks.

After climbing up the hill of the park/school that I was curious about, I planted myself on a bench. I sat for less than a minute and acknowledged this was not the right time, space or bench for me to practice some Qi Gong. I stood up and noticed a man walking behind the school to an area with a lot of soft lush green grass and a slate path for walking. This was the way to go. He lost me quickly since I am a casual walker. I started walking down the hill and decided the dirt would be more fun then the rock and dirt steps. When I reached the bottom, I became aware that this is next to where I walk down the main street in this particular neighborhood but still secluded enough to sit and be still. Instead of sitting on one of the cement benches, I felt drawn to the actual octagon shaped mini wooden shelter. It was raised just high enough that sitting on its perimeter would give me the wood to sit on, the earth below my feet and the perfect height for my body and Qi Gong. So I plated myself there.

Five minutes into Qi Gong, the Qi started filling my body, specifically my belly. I could feel my whole being come alive with joy and softness. My face relaxed along with my shoulders and breath. I felt the flow of energy up and down my spine with its base in my root center; home. A few minutes more of expansion and gratitude, I moved towards a reflection on a topic that has been taking hold of me lately. This being the shift, or maybe expansion of my vision of how to deal with issues and obstacles, current or Karmic. I have predominantly come from the pro football school of spiritual development. Meaning that I have typically lowered my head and banged helmets like a ram with any and all spiritual or personal obstacles and issues. I have stood my ground and survived by sheer effort, will and Grace- it is rarely pretty. I have taken on my obstacles head on. This has gotten me to a certain level, and I have been at this level or near it for several years now. I have been confronted about my terminal stuckness by most of my close friends and supporters over the last couple of years. I did not get what they were talking about; I am beginning to get some clues. Or should I say, I am not resisting receiving the Teachings as much as I have in the past. That feels a little more honest and accurate.

The expansion is now including another gentler method of dealing with resistance and obstacles. The florist school of dealing with dead or wilting issues- strengthen what is alive and help it grow stronger and increase in vitality. Go figure. Instead of going to battle, I can just increase what is beautiful inside me as a means of growth. It has worked for me for years as a grower of vegetables, fruits, herbs and flowers- why not me? In fact, as a grower, I rarely weed. I work on the growth of the plant and let the plant deal with the weeds. Typically, the plant that I want (which we know is what makes a weed a weed and a plant a plant) to prosper does, and the weeds go about their life without disturbing the amazingly robust and strengthened veggies or melons. Go figure.

So my spiritual toolbox is now adding another drawer for me to experience. This drawer includes moving out of the way, stepping around or just standing where I am and staying grounded and alive- no battle, no head on collision, no football helmets full of opponents paint and blood. It is not that I am abandoning anything that I have learned along the way, just embracing another way. Of course this way, just like the original way are firmly rooted in Reiki, Prayer, Meditation and Qi Gong. No reason to drop my old and trusted friends. So the football helmet will be waiting me for when I choose to put it into action, but today I will sit quietly allowing life and all its beauty and force fill me up. The florist and the football player become one.

Nineteen Years

Release, relief, retreat
Free, see, me
Clean, serene, nineteen
Today, pray, a way
Serve, nerve, deserve
Walk, talk, balk
Meditate, radiate, navigate
Reiki, Napki, a new key
Create, relate, retrait
Years, fears, dears
God, Yod, a rod
Now, wow, bow
One, fun and done

My Hollywood Nightmare

It was nearly eighty-five degrees Fahrenheit in the Namba District of Osaka, Japan. My black backpack was stuffed with my camera, MacBook, iPod, writing book and the book I am studying Korean lazily. It weighed a lot since I had been walking around to stall time before picking up my passport and accepted E-2 work visa from the Republic of Korea as an English teacher. I had waited for this day since the day I departed the Northwest Airlines airbus six weeks ago to become a legal resident for one year as a teacher.

Last night I had a nightmare that I would be walking down the street and for no reason, a band of Japanese police officers would grab me from all angles, question me in Japanese which I do not speak, detain and keep me like all those awful movies showed at 3:00a.m. on cable of American’s lives ripped to shreds in a foreign land for no reason except country of birth. The nightmare included being beaten, raped and starved to the point of malnutrition. Yes the nightmare pierced through my belly and kept me awake for at least half the night. No visa, no flight back to Korea at 5:00p.m. and no teaching English to incredibly loving and wonderful elementary school students at Cheonanyoungam Elementary School. Life over. Till I awoke in the morning and I was sleeping on a bed in a youth hostel in Kyoto with the sun shining through the plastic window. I was not in jail but safe and apprehensively preparing for my day of travel and finally attaining my E-2 working visa. I ate breakfast at the Zen Café; the German potato salad was not very German or really potato salad, just boiled potatoes. Everything else was a little better- mediocre. The train and subway rides back to Osaka were boring and uneventful. I then walked around Namba searching for a place to eat lunch after acquiring my visa from the Korean Embassy to make sure I had a decent meal before the train ride to Kansia Airport departing to Incheon, South Korea. The plan was perfect including one more meal of fresh Japanese Sushi, a perfect plan.

Perfect till a warm “Hello” to the two Japanese police officers stations outside the Korean Embassy where I will enter at 1:30 to pick up my E- visa. Perfect till the first young officer approached me at the corner about forty feet away out of breath with his right hand placed firmly on his black pistol and his mouth and nose covered with a white pollution mask. He asked me something in Japanese, I answered by asking him, “Do you speak any English?” Before he could answer, another officer approached with urgency and got directly in front of me and looked me in the eyes and asked in broken English, “Passport?”

That is when the nightmare began. See, my visa was sitting comfortably on the desk in the air-conditioned office of the visa officer on the second floor of the Korean Embassy forty feet away. He just stared, not having any idea what I just said to him. The stare is what produced my panic, any response would have signaled at least a hint of understanding. Nothing, Nada, Zilch. Just a blank stare that began to increase intensity when he again asked, “Passport?” This time it was less of a question and more of a directive. I took a deep breath and was extremely conscious of speaking slow, even and soft- my freedom was now in serious question. I reached to take my pack off my back and a third officer approached and stopped me with fear and intensity in his eyes that were open wide. I stopped without flinching or reacting suddenly. He asked again for my passport and I again tried to explain that it was at the Korean Embassy knowing what little they understood was being communicated by an American that keeps bringing up the Korean Embassy; a two for one of Japans two greatest targets of prejudice and hate.

They then demanded to see some identification. I reached slowly for my wallet and showed them my Wisconsin drivers license, which only added to their concern. I was giving them an American drivers license when I said I live in South Korea. “Open your bag!”

I slowly released my backpack off my shoulders onto the cement sidewalk full of pedestrians walking by. I was too scared to see if they were watching or not but I could feel their stares rolling off my back. I slid the zipper of the largest compartment open and took out my MacBook covered in a pillowcase that I purchased from an old Tibetan couple at a twelve-day Teaching with the Dalai Llama in August of 1999. Then my little purple, orange, black and red knit bag that I found on the sidewalk in Madison, WI a few years ago with my iPod, cords and my black cannon S5 IS camera that shot over 500 pictures in the previous three days in Japan. My yellow, brown and ochre writing pad that is almost full of pages written this summer. The book I am learning how to read and speak Korean. And finally, my soft, clear plastic Nalgene bottle that I have drank from every day since the spring of 1995 full of tap water from the youth hostel I stayed in the night before in Kyoto. Still no expression.

The medium pocket with my small pad I carry for notes and drawings for language barrier emergencies was of no help with Japanese police. Then I saw the e-ticket for my flights to and from Incheon-Seoul airport and Kansai, “Maybe this will help”. I showed it to them excitedly until they pointed out to each other that I came from Seoul. “You came from Korea? I thought you were an American! Where is your passport!”

The officer with the white mask covering his nose and mouth from pollution spoke to one of the other officers and then looked at me and said, “We take you to police station now!” I cold feel my freedom evaporating- no E-2 visa, no flight back to Incheon-Seoul and no life in Korea or elsewhere. I motioned with my fingers for them to walk with me to the Korean Embassy to get my passport. “We take you to police station now!”

I took a deep breathe, I remembered what has worked in most life situations since I was first trained and attuned in January of 1996 in my cherry wood paneled loft out in the country. Reiki! I took another deep breath and invited Reiki into the space for a few seconds, maybe ten. Then the strangest thing happened. They all just walked away. No internal conversation, no “I am sorry for bothering you”, no “OK, you can go now”. They just independently walked away in three different directions as if nothing happened.

I was standing there on the street corner with my black pack on the ground opened by myself. I picked up my pack, slipped it on my back and walked the forty feet to the Korean Embassy. I walked up the stairs to the right passed one of the officers who just violated me and my space to the automatic glass sliding doors to enter the Korean Embassy. Up the stairs to the visa issuing officer. It was now 1:28, I was two minutes early. I sat on one of the available seats and held back my tears on the outside but on the inside, I was drenched. I survived my Hollywood nightmare in Namba, Japan.

My number was called, “13” and I was issued my E-2 visa. I shared my experiences with the officer who appeared genuinely bothered. I returned down the steps out the door past the two officers guarding the Embassy and to the sushi bar around the corner I discovered earlier for my last opportunity for fresh sushi in Japan. It was an incredible meal! I paid my bill and headed towards Namba station to take the train to Kansai International Airport.

I never thought in my life that a Korean Embassy in Japan would be such a welcome sight to an American from North Jersey just outside of NYC. For me, it was the end of the nightmare and the beginning of my trip home safely to Cheonan.

Qi Healer

Today was the day I was looking forward to. The Qi Healer Intensive was at the point of the class where all the students would be practicing Qi Healing on each other. This \ is what I cam to do Danbury, Ct to experience.

As a Reiki Teaching Master for many years, I have plenty of experience with energy and working with others. Because of this, I knew that profound experiences would be shared together. I was not disappointed.

The intensity and focus of the Qi and the students was impressive. It is really neat to participate in a group with such committed people. The one member who was in a different [place, was having some external challenges and decided to leave against the Teacher and classmates recommendations. The four other group members are all experienced and dedicated Qi Gong, Tai Ji or Shiatsu practitioners and teachers. I am not in a group with a bunch of lightweights. The four of them continue to impress with their knowledge, wisdom and balance, and they are all fun and funny to hangout with. W have a series of “inside” jokes ranging from The Skilled Clipboard Holder to The Room with a Window and the Ice Cream Goddess. We have enjoyed each other’s company and friendship while experiencing this process together, especially those of us that have also slept here at night.

So I was in good company when we got down to actually working on each other. I received five healing in total, and with each one felt a release of dead energy or physical discomfort. Since I have not been sleeping well, I was especially grateful fort he clearing, balancing and strengthening each healer did on my head without it being discussed. I feel so much better tonight from the healings.

After dinner tonight, one of the guys and myself were leaving for a nice evening walk after we all made our jokes about the Ice Cream Goddess. We were about fifteen feet into the residential style parking lot when he noticed somebody drove their car into his, which literally moved his SUV sideways about six feet and crashed into my driver’s side door! It almost seems impossible based on the small size of the parking lot for a vehicle to actually make this happen, but it did. My door is completely knocked in, as well as my side view mirror. An interesting event with t he intensive ending tomorrow and my van being my transportation, “home” and private space these days. It seems bizarre and comical that I am homeless, unemployed, broke and now the owner of a banged up, un-drivable van AND feeling better than I can remember! The clarity, focus, softness, connection and vitality are all things I have been working on; who knew this is how and when they would manifest? The Universe certainly does things in ways simple men like myself cannot figure out. And I think this is the way it is supposed to be.