Reiki Found Me

Reiki Found Me

Reiki Found Me

A lived experience of staying true to inner guidance through the unfolding of life.

A personal reflection on Reiki, awareness, and the nature of healing.

Reiki found me…

Many moons ago, in my early twenties, I was travelling through the Australian outback on a group 4WD adventure.

I met a Swedish man, Sven, and his American partner, Katie. We connected easily and began talking about alternative therapies — acupuncture, shiatsu, Reiki.

I was open then. Life felt wide. I trusted what felt genuine.

Katie asked if I wanted a Reiki healing.

“Sure, why not,” I said… though I remember thinking, I’m young, I don’t need anything healed.

Which makes me smile now.

A space was prepared by the campfire.

Katie knelt beside me, gently guiding me to breathe and relax.

I settled into the swag beneath the night sky.

And then it happened.

Something moved through my body — alive, unmistakable, expanding through everything at once.

I had never felt anything like it.

Not in this life, at least.

WOW.

It was like something switched on inside me — an energy moving through and activating my entire system.

I couldn’t explain it.

And I didn’t try.

I just let it happen.

Fully. Completely.

I opened my eyes and the night sky felt different — not just stars, but something vast and alive.

In that moment, I felt completely connected.

When I returned to Melbourne, I began searching for what I had experienced.

Reiki wasn’t widely known then — no internet, no mobile phones… a very different world.

(We really did have to go and find things out 😄)

At 23, I completed my First Degree in Usui Reiki.

From there, life moved.

Study. Curiosity. Change. Experience.

I explored alternative therapies, spiritual teachings, and spaces that felt strangely familiar — as if something in me already recognised them.

Life continued in full expression.

I travelled. I loved. I became a mother. I built a career.

Life moved through seasons of expansion, challenge, loss, rebuilding, and renewal.

There was also a deeper layer to that time.

Working closely with people in vulnerable circumstances,
I came to see something very clearly.

Vulnerability does not discriminate.

It moves through all lives at different times, in different ways.

And at certain points, I found myself within it too —
moving through major life changes, relocation, relationship breakdown, and family crisis.

It wasn’t separate.

It was part of the same human experience.

But underneath it all, something remained steady.

That original experience never left me.

At a certain point, I reached a career crossroads and stepped into running a small business — something I understood in a practical, lived way, but not in a formal or structured sense.

It wasn’t complicated… but it asked something new of me in how I held it, grew it, and sustained it over time.

What I had was an innate knowing, a steady determination, and a quiet trust in what I was sensing.

And I built from that.

I worked, held space, taught, and continued evolving within that expression of my work.

It became a period of deep learning, responsibility, connection, and ongoing inner listening.

Then came a globally disruptive period that affected life for many people in different ways.

While everything externally was shifting, something internally began to clarify.

Not immediately — but gradually.

A quiet recognition that I could no longer continue in the same way.

So I listened inward.

As I always have.

That listening became more precise over time.

I began to notice burnout — not as a single moment, but as a gradual depletion where what I had been holding was no longer sustainable.

It wasn’t collapse.

It was clarity arriving through lived awareness.

Something needed to change.

In 2022, I reached a natural point of completion within that business chapter.

And I made the decision to step away.

Not from failure or a breaking point — but from a natural ending, a gradual depletion, and internal realignment coming into clarity.

Something in me was asking for a different way of being with life and work.

And I trusted that.

There was also a quiet understanding in that time.

Not everything is meant to be carried forward.

Some situations, some relationships…
reach their natural point of completion.

Letting go wasn’t forced.

It came with awareness,
and a sense of gratitude for what had been.

And a willingness to release what was no longer aligned.

What remained was not a new direction — but the same thread that had always been there underneath everything.

Quiet. steady. unbroken.

Looking back, Reiki has been that thread through it all.

A universal life force — vast, intelligent, and beyond full comprehension.

And yet something every living being is already part of.

What I didn’t understand at the time…
I recognise more clearly now.

Change begins before it is visible.

In awareness.
In something shifting before there are words for it.

I recognise that space as the quantum field.

Not as an idea —
as something lived.

Reiki moves through that same space.

We are not outside of it.

That is why I use the term Quantum Reiki.

Not casually,
and not to redefine Reiki —
but because it reflects the level at which it is already working.

An expression of Reiki that meets that space directly.
As it is.

It has now been over thirty years since that night in the outback.

And I remain in awe of it.

I had no sense then that Reiki would still be here decades later —
or continue to find its way into wider spaces.

Over the years, I’ve trained many people.

Each with their own reasons,
their own timing.

At times, I’ve wondered how many truly felt what I felt.

Not as something to learn,
but as something that stays.

There is no shortage of tools.

What is often missing is staying.

Staying with yourself.

Being willing to see what is there
without moving on too quickly.

What I’ve come to understand is that the work is never separate from the one holding it.

It begins within.

And continues there.

Through awareness.
Through honest reflection.
Through a willingness to meet yourself as you are.

We are all learning within this.

These days, I return to simplicity.

To the earth.
To presence.
To what is here now.

Allowing Reiki to move through everything I do.

As a lifelong student of the mystery teachings, there is no doubt in me:

Reiki found me.

And it continues to move through how I live and share.

We are multidimensional beings having a physical experience.

Through my Quantum Reiki offering, I hold space for awareness, connection, and self-healing — grounded in lived experience and traditional practice.

This work is not something applied from the outside.

It is a space held for what is already present to be recognised.

If you feel drawn to explore this in your own way, you are welcome to connect.

Kimley

 

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Returning to Self

Returning to Self

Returning to Self

A return inward after a period of holding on, where stopping became the beginning of coming back to self.

There came a point where I had to stop.

In that stopping, I began to return inward.

I had been moving through life in a steady rhythm for a long time — holding responsibilities, showing up, supporting others, doing work I genuinely cared about.

But over time, something in that rhythm began to shift.

It wasn’t obvious at first.

More like I wasn’t being honest with myself inside of it anymore.

There was a feeling that I had been holding more than I realised for a long time.

There was global disruption unfolding that affected life for many people in different ways.

It changed how we moved, how we worked, how we connected.

And like many others, I felt that shift too.

Not just externally — but in how I was holding everything internally.

Something began to surface that I could no longer ignore.

I describe myself as being on autopilot, survival mode.

It was a period of heightened stress — globally, professionally, and personally.

There was a lot of uncertainty moving through everything at once.

It’s no wonder my nervous system was fried.

(And I can say that now with a bit of humour looking back.)

At the time, it just felt like constant crossfire coming from all directions. I was holding a lot, and most days I was simply responding rather than consciously choosing.

It wasn’t something I chose — it was something I stepped into because I had to keep going.

But it was exhausting.

Because internally, so much of it didn’t feel aligned.

I was often having to be things I didn’t actually feel like being, just to move through what was in front of me.

It felt like a prolonged fight for what felt right, even when everything around me felt off.

Looking back, it wasn’t just busy years.

It was sustained internal tension between what I was holding externally and what I was experiencing internally.

And that tension is what slowly wore me down.

See, when I go into reflection, it often opens perspectives that weren’t visible in the moment of the experience.

Only afterwards — when I look back at who I am and what I’ve learned along the way — does it all start to make sense.

Over time, that built.

Not all at once.

But it built through holding.

Continuing.

Pushing through.

There is a kind of exhaustion that doesn’t arrive all at once.

It builds through holding.

Continuing.

Pushing through.

By the end of this period, I reached a point where I had to stop. After looking at myself in the mirror, I had become unrecognisable to myself.

After that, I retreated.

I often describe it as going into my cave.

Not to escape — but because I needed somewhere to land.

It wasn’t until I had the space to stop and breathe that the enormity of what I had been carrying became front and centre.

Up until that point, I had still been showing up.

Still holding space for others.

Still moving forward.

But internally… I was drowning.

The weight of excess becomes so heavy that eventually, you are left with a choice:

You either drown…

or you swim.

So I swam.

For my life.

It’s funny — I’m not a confident swimmer naturally.

And yet, in that moment, something in me knew how.

Into my inner sanctuary — where I felt safe, held, and able to finally face what was there.

Resistance surfaced.

Doubt.

Fear.

All of it rising to be felt, recognised, and released.

I allowed space.

Space to breathe.

Space to feel.

Space to return.

And I found my way back to what had always supported me.

Reiki.

Meditation.

Yoga.

Practices that had served me deeply over the years… until I had become distracted, overwhelmed, or disconnected from them.

Yet they had never left.

They were always there — steady, grounding, quietly waiting.

 Anchoring me back into my truth.

In that space, something began to settle.

Not all at once.

But enough for me to feel myself again.

The sanctuary I built around myself became a sacred space — not only for me, but for the way I now hold and share my work.

What has always mattered most to me is what becomes possible when someone is given enough space to meet themselves honestly.

Without pressure.

Without expectation.

Without needing to be anything other than where they are.

Over time, this has shaped how I now work.

Less about doing.

More about holding space for what is already there.

When life slows you down enough, you begin to hear what you were always moving past.

Today, in a world that continues to move through its own disruptions — including ongoing global unrest and war — that returning inward feels more important than ever.

Not as escape.

But as grounding.

For me, this is the practice now:

Returning to self.

Returning to stillness.

Returning to what is already here.

Returning to the knowing alive within.

 If this speaks to you, your welcome to connect.

Kimley

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