Imagine entering a healing space where the gentle touch meant to energize you instead lulls you into a deep sleep—not once, but twice. That’s exactly what happened during my sessions with Sama Trinder, a reiki master and self-proclaimed “joyraiser.” This therapeutic practice, known for channeling vital energy to promote well-being, surprisingly led me to the relaxed state of unconsciousness. But here’s where it gets controversial: does falling asleep during reiki mean it’s working, or is it just a cozy nap?
Meeting in the warm, inviting rooms of Bingham Riverhouse in Richmond, a boutique hotel overlooking the Thames, Trinder guided me through her healing approach. After the session, she asked if I experienced anything—visions, colors, sensations—common reports among practitioners and clients alike. I confessed to being mostly asleep. She reassured me, explaining that the mind’s awareness isn’t necessary for the therapy to heal; energy flows regardless. Trinder’s technique involved hovering her hands over my body, intuitively focusing on energy centers called chakras, especially around my heart and throat. She sees herself as a conduit, channeling an unseen, magnetic force rather than performing the healing herself.
Reiki’s history dates back to early 20th-century Japan, combining the ideas of universal energy (rei) and vital life force (ki). It’s part of a larger, loosely defined group of energy healing practices aimed at soothing both the body and soul. Some research, including a recent study published in the Journal of Pain and Symptom Management, shows promising potential—especially relief from chemotherapy symptoms linked to feelings of relaxation and gratitude. However, scientific consensus calls for more rigorous, placebo-controlled studies to confirm these effects.
Trinder blends reiki with sound healing, using instruments like shamanic drums and crystal bowls during her sessions to enhance balance and energy reception. She describes her goal as leading clients toward love or joy—contrasting with her self-described “hellraiser” days in her youth. While I couldn’t say I felt a radical shift beyond a deep sense of relaxation and emotional lightness, the experience was undeniably nurturing. Another energy master, Nieve Tierney, offers a somewhat different approach. A former fashion industry creative turned “modern-day energy coach,” Tierney’s sessions, often conducted over Zoom, focus more on teaching clients to manage their own energy. She claims energy transcends physical distance, citing miraculous client stories like a woman who resumed menstruation and later conceived after remote sessions.
Tierney’s approach is hands-off and conversational, emphasizing awareness of how one absorbs and blocks energy, paired with practical visualization techniques to protect and cleanse one’s aura. For example, imagining stepping inside a giant disco ball to bounce off negative energy helps create emotional boundaries in draining environments. Another ritual involves “plunging” negative energy from the body at day’s end, releasing it back to the earth. These gentle practices may feel subtle or slow, and whether they truly unblock life force (ki) remains a personal judgment. Still, the mental clarity and mood boost they provide can be valuable in our busy, stressful lives. So, what do you think? Is reiki a mystical force or a comforting placebo? Are these ancient healing arts misunderstood or overhyped? Share your thoughts and experiences.
