Many people come to Reiki because they are stressed. But often, what they are truly seeking is reconnection.

This article was written by Jule Reiki, a Reiki practitioner and student of Brian Brunius.

She offers Reiki sessions designed to support deep rest, nervous system regulation, emotional clarity, and reconnection to the self. Her work combines traditional hands-on Reiki, guided meditation, and intuitive insight to help clients slow down and return to balance in a world that rarely allows space to pause.

Learn more about Jule and her work at julereiki.com.

One of the strange things about Mount Kurama is that almost nothing on the mountain mentions Reiki. People arrive expecting otherwise. After all, this is the mountain associated with Mikao Usui’s retreat in 1922. Reiki practitioners come from all over the world imagining there will be giant monuments, museums, sacred markers, or at least signs talking about the birth of Reiki.

Instead, you arrive at a quiet train station in a small mountain village north of Kyoto. There’s a giant tengu head outside the station, a river running beside the narrow road, and a handful of small shops stretching toward the mountain. By the time you step off the train at Kurama Station, the city already feels very far away.

Then the mountain begins.

At the main gate, pilgrims borrow wooden walking sticks from stands beside the path. At first they seem almost unnecessary. Twenty minutes later most people are very grateful to have one.

The first thing that usually surprises people is how physical Kurama is. Photos flatten it. Videos flatten it. But once you begin climbing, your attention narrows almost automatically. Your breathing changes. Your legs start working. The stone staircases keep rising through the forest beneath enormous cedar trees.

As the climb continues, the rhythm of the mountain starts taking over. Your breathing settles into the pace of the stairs. Conversation becomes less constant. People naturally spread out along the path beneath the cedars.

Gradually your attention begins simplifying. You notice smaller things. The sound of water moving through the valley. The rhythm of your breathing. The feeling of the stairs beneath your feet. The farther you climb, the quieter your thinking often becomes.

You pass through gates. You stop at purification fountains. You move from crowded areas into quieter ones. The deeper you climb, the less performative everything becomes. Eventually you reach places where people naturally stop talking, not because there’s a rule, but because the mountain changes the atmosphere around you.

One of the most interesting things I’ve watched happen over the years is what occurs on the second or third climb. The first climb is usually excitement. People are taking photos, trying to orient themselves, looking for “the Reiki places.” But by the second ascent something shifts. People stop trying to consume the mountain. They start settling into it. The pauses become quieter. The walking becomes steadier. People sit longer under the trees. The mountain stops feeling like a tourist destination and starts feeling more like practice.

One of the things I’ve noticed over repeated pilgrimages is that the mountain seems to work on people gradually. Not only emotionally, but physically too.

The first few climbs can be difficult. My knees usually ache at the beginning of the trip now that I’m older. The stairs feel steeper each day. But something strange often happens after several ascents. The pain starts disappearing. My body begins feeling lighter instead of more exhausted. I often find myself telling students that it feels like the mountain is healing me through the repeated climbs.

Even after leaving the mountain, many people notice their minds feel quieter for days afterward. Simpler. Less crowded. Less internally complicated.

After enough time on Kurama, many people begin speaking about the mountain almost the way they would speak about a person. Not literally, and not as a kind of fantasy, but because the experience becomes difficult to describe otherwise. The mountain begins feeling less like scenery and more like presence. Less like a backdrop for spiritual practice and more like part of the practice itself.

That’s the part I think many Reiki practitioners miss when they think about Kurama only historically. Kurama is not important merely because Usui went there. Usui went there because mountains like this already mattered.

Long before Reiki existed, Kurama was already a place of pilgrimage, ascetic training, prayer, meditation, ritual purification, and mountain practice. Tendai Buddhism, Shugendo, Shinto, tengu legends, waterfall austerities, sacred trees, and devotion to figures like Bishamonten and Kannon were all part of the mountain’s religious atmosphere long before Usui climbed there. Later, Kurama would develop the modern Sonten theology associated with Mao-son and Kurama Kokyo.

That’s why I think pilgrimage matters more than tourism. The repeated climb changes the experience.

Christopher Tellez and I organize Reiki pilgrimage journeys to Japan through the San Francisco Reiki Center, usually twice each year, and one of the most important parts of the trip is that participants climb Mount Kurama multiple times during the journey. That matters more than people realize because Kurama unfolds slowly.

The first climb introduces the mountain. The second climb introduces you to yourself on the mountain. By the third climb, many people no longer feel like they are visiting. The mountain starts feeling strangely familiar, almost relational.

Somewhere in the middle of all this, many Reiki practitioners quietly realize something important. Kurama does not feel like the “source” of Reiki because it explains Reiki. It feels like the source because it cultivates the kind of inner condition from which Reiki could emerge.

That’s very different.

You begin understanding Reiki less as an isolated technique and more as part of a much older culture of cultivation, attention, embodiment, and spiritual discipline.

Honestly, I think this is one of the reasons people come home from Kurama changed even when nothing dramatic happens there. The mountain reorganizes people, more quietly than they expected, more physically than they expected, and often more deeply than they expected too.

If you’re interested in joining one of the upcoming Mount Kurama pilgrimage journeys organized through the San Francisco Reiki Center, you can find more information here:

Continue the Exploration

If you are interested in the deeper foundations of Reiki practice, its history, and how it becomes embodied through daily training, you can explore these themes in the Substack publication “Living with Reiki.”

There the focus is on what it means to live with Reiki over the long path, not only as a healing practice but as a way of cultivating the heart-mind in ordinary life.

Subscribe on Substack to keep reading.

There is a quiet problem in modern Reiki practice.

Most people learn techniques. They learn hand positions, symbols, and ways of treating others. But the foundation of the system is often unclear. Practice becomes inconsistent. Understanding remains partial. Over time, many practitioners feel that something is missing, even if they cannot name it.

What is missing is not another technique.

It is the foundation Mikao Usui originally taught.

Reiki, as Usui practiced and transmitted it, was a path of self-cultivation. It was built on daily discipline, observation of one’s inner condition, and the gradual refinement of kokoro. Treatment of others arose from that foundation, not the other way around.

This orientation is visible in the original materials Usui left behind. The teachings are simple. They point repeatedly to practice, not theory.

But for many years, access to those teachings has been limited.

A Direct Translation of the 1926 Manual

The Usui Reiki Handbook presents the complete 1926 manual as it was written.

It is not a reinterpretation. It is not a modern system built around the original material. It is a direct translation of the text itself, without reliance on later postwar editions that were modified over time.

What emerges from reading the manual in this form is a clear picture of Usui’s approach.

The emphasis is not on accumulating techniques. It is on cultivating a stable condition of practice through:

• The Reiki Precepts
• meditation
• contemplation of gyosei
• self-treatment
• consistent daily discipline

These are not presented as optional additions. They are the structure of the training.

Why Reading Is Not Enough

At the same time, reading the manual alone is not sufficient.

Reiki does not develop through information. It develops through repetition, observation, and returning to the same practices over time.

This was always part of the original training method. Students did not simply read teachings. They practiced them, observed themselves, and gradually refined their understanding through direct experience.

Without that structure, practice tends to remain conceptual.

This is the gap many practitioners experience.

The Companion Workbook: Turning Reading into Practice

A Complete Practice System

These two books are designed to work together.

The handbook presents the source material.

The workbook provides a way to practice it.

Together, they form a complete system:

• read the teaching
• engage the practice
• observe what arises
• return again

Over time, this repetition stabilizes attention and clarifies the condition of kokoro. From that stability, Reiki practice naturally deepens.

This is not a new approach.

It is a return to how Reiki was originally learned.

Beginning Again

For practitioners who feel that their practice has become unclear or inconsistent, this is an opportunity to begin again from a different place.

Not by adding more techniques.

But by returning to the foundation.

Both The Usui Reiki Handbook and the Companion Workbook are available now.

Continue the Exploration

If you are interested in the deeper foundations of Reiki practice, its history, and how it becomes embodied through daily training, you can explore these themes in the Substack publication “Living with Reiki.”

There the focus is on what it means to live with Reiki over the long path, not only as a healing practice but as a way of cultivating the heart-mind in ordinary life.

Subscribe on Substack to keep reading.

Most Reiki practitioners have never trained the way Usui intended. They place their hands. They learn techniques. They may even teach. But the disciplined structure that shaped perception, conduct, and stability in early Reiki training is largely absent from modern practice. In Usui’s system, training was not built around a single method, but around a small set of core practices: the Precepts, self-treatment, Reiki meditation, and waka. Each served a distinct function, and together they trained the practitioner. Without this structure, practice becomes uneven. Attention drifts. Sensitivity fluctuates. Progress depends on mood, belief, or effort. With it, something stabilizes, a reliable inner condition.

Why Waka Matters

Among these core practices, waka is the least understood and the most often ignored. In the 1920s, Mikao Usui introduced a collection of poems, many composed by Emperor Meiji, as part of daily training. They were not presented as literature or meant to be interpreted. They were used. Repeated daily, they functioned as conditioning tools that refined kokoro, the integrated field of inner life from which perception and conduct arise. This was not about insight. It was about stabilization. The poems train restraint and attention. They shape how one meets experience without reacting, collapsing, or forcing. They do not explain anything. They change how you perceive. This is why they were included alongside the Precepts, meditation, and hands-on practice, and why they still matter.

A Practice, Not a Poetry Book

Purifying the Heart-Mind with Waka restores this method in a usable form. This is not a poetry collection. It is a training manual. The poems are presented as they were meant to be used, as part of disciplined daily practice, through repetition and sustained contact over time. What develops is not dramatic, but it is reliable. This is how Reiki was trained, and for those who are serious about practice, it changes the foundation.

Get the Book

Continue the Exploration

If you are interested in the deeper foundations of Reiki practice, its history, and how it becomes embodied through daily training, you can explore these themes in the Substack publication “Living with Reiki.”

There the focus is on what it means to live with Reiki over the long path, not only as a healing practice but as a way of cultivating the heart-mind in ordinary life.

Subscribe on Substack to keep reading.

As Koshin Reiki began to take form and the website came together, it became clear that something essential was missing. It wasn’t a logo or branding. What was needed was a seal, a hanko to represent Koshin no Michi, the path of Koshin Reiki.

At the same time, I knew I needed a personal seal as well. Not something inherited, but something that reflected where I actually stand now in my development. This wasn’t about appearance. It was about accuracy.

There was only one person in Reiki I would trust with that: Fokke Brink.

Fokke is one of the early Reiki Masters, initiated in 1987 by Phyllis Lei Furumoto. For decades, he has lived Reiki as a way of life, integrating it with Japanese calligraphy, seal carving, and traditional arts. His work is quiet, precise, and grounded in long practice.
https://www.fokkebrink.info/

The Process

We met over a series of video calls across three months. There was no design brief, no branding language, and no discussion of aesthetics. Instead, we focused on what was actually there: my development, the direction of Koshin Reiki, and what this work is becoming.

At a certain point, he contacted me and said he had found the right stone. It had originally been a single piece, which was cut in half to create two identical, bookended stones. One for my personal seal, and one for the Koshin Reiki seal.

Both seals came from the same stone.

Even before carving began, that mattered. Two forms emerging from one source.

He described it simply: the stone chooses its master, not the other way around. In this case, the stone was clearly responding to the process behind Koshin Reiki itself.

The Personal Seal

A few weeks later, he reached out again. He had begun carving my personal seal.

At the center was a figure of a person, representing me, with the characters for power, smile, and heaven descending around it.

This was not presented as design. It was something that had emerged through the process. The carving was not imposed onto the stone, but discovered within it.

The Arrival

A few days after returning from Japan, just after being on Mount Kurama, the package arrived from Greece.

Inside was a traditional case, carefully prepared.

When I opened it, the experience was immediate and unmistakable. Not symbolic, not imagined. There was a direct sense of the work in the seals, a strong presence that could be felt physically. The only way to describe it is that there was an explosion of energy as soon as the case was opened.

The Seals

Inside were both seals, carved from the same original stone.

They clearly belong together. The character of the material is still visible, including the irregularities created during carving. The resistance of the stone shaped the final form, and that history remains in the work.

These are not polished objects. They carry the process within them.

In Use

These seals are not meant to be displayed. They are meant to be used.

The first time I applied the Koshin Reiki seal was on a First Degree certificate. It sits beside my signature, not as decoration, but as confirmation. It marks responsibility and transmission in a direct way.

Why This Matters

At a time when most things in Reiki can be easily reproduced or designed, this process stands in contrast. It was slow, physical, and irreversible. Each seal was carved by hand, and each decision was shaped by the material itself.

That is what gives it weight.

About Fokke Brink

Fokke continues to create personal seals and hanko for Reiki Masters and practitioners. This is not a product in the usual sense, but a process that requires time, attention, and relationship.

https://www.fokkebrink.info

Final Note

This work with Fokke is something I want to preserve, not as a story, but as a living part of the lineage of Koshin Reiki, shaped through the care, attention, and presence of his work.

Continue the Exploration

If you are interested in the deeper foundations of Reiki practice, its history, and how it becomes embodied through daily training, you can explore these themes in the Substack publication “Living with Reiki.”

There the focus is on what it means to live with Reiki over the long path, not only as a healing practice but as a way of cultivating the heart-mind in ordinary life.

Subscribe on Substack to keep reading.

A New Book

A new book has been published today: Koshin Reiki: A Complete System of Reiki Practice & Training.

This text presents the system of Reiki as it was taught to me by my teacher, John Harvey Gray, and as it has been practiced and carried forward within this lineage.

Koshin Reiki is a form of Usui Shiki Ryoho, transmitted through Hawayo Takata to John Gray, and from him to the students he trained. What is presented here reflects that transmission as it has been received and maintained over time.

The Structure of Practice

This book shows the structure of the practice.

Reiki is often encountered in parts. Hands-on treatment. Reiki meditation. The Precepts. Symbols. Each can be practiced on its own. Over time, it becomes clear that these are not separate. They function together as a single method of training.

This book lays out that relationship directly.

That understanding came through practice.

Recognition on Mount Kurama

More than thirty years after my training with John, I was sitting on Mount Kurama, in the temple known as the Hall of the Luminous Heart.

In that stillness, something returned with force.

I saw John clearly, standing in front of me as he had decades earlier, drawing two characters with his hand. 光心.

At the time, I had not understood what he showed me. I questioned it. I set it aside.

Sitting there, that moment came back in full clarity, and with it came a surge of light, unmistakable and direct. It was not a memory alone. It was a luminous experience.

In that moment, I recognized what I had received.

What John had been given by Takata, and what had been passed through him to me, was not a fragment. It was a transmission. It had been placed in my hands and carried for thirty years until I was able to see it.

I could feel the power of the initiating lineage itself. Not as an idea, but as something living, precise, and intact. I knew that this transmission would define my path in Reiki and shape everything I would carry forward.

The name Koshin arose from that recognition.

Not as something created, but as something named from what had already been given.

A Complete System

Each element of practice is described here within the whole: initiation, self-treatment, the Precepts, Reiki meditation, hands-on work, Mental Treatment, and the way these develop together through repeated practice over time.

The emphasis is on practice.

Reiki is learned through the hands, through attention, and through daily repetition. Over time, its function becomes clear through direct experience.

This book presents Reiki as a system of training.

It reflects how the practice is learned: through direct contact, repetition, and guidance from a teacher.

Why This Book

The intention in publishing this book is simple.

To make the structure of this practice visible, as it has been received in this lineage, and to provide a clear reference for those who are practicing it.

What is here is what was given, clarified through years of practice, and presented so it can be encountered directly.

— Brian Brunius

Continue the Exploration

If you are interested in the deeper foundations of Reiki practice, its history, and how it becomes embodied through daily training, you can explore these themes in the Substack publication “Living with Reiki.”

There the focus is on what it means to live with Reiki over the long path, not only as a healing practice but as a way of cultivating the heart-mind in ordinary life.

Subscribe on Substack to keep reading.

Clarifying a Common Misunderstanding in Reiki Practice

In recent years, some Reiki writers have suggested that the essence of Reiki practice is to “forget the self,” discard all thoughts, and realize that there is no practitioner, no patient, and nothing to give or receive during treatment. According to this interpretation, Reiki is not something we practice but something we simply “are.”

These statements sound profound and spiritually appealing. They borrow language from Zen and other Japanese contemplative traditions. But when we look closely at the historical sources of Reiki and the structure of actual practice, this interpretation raises serious problems for students.

It risks replacing a practical training method with an abstract philosophy.

For that reason, it is worth clarifying what the early sources actually show.

Tomita Kaiji’s 1933 book, written by an early Reiki student from the 1920s, describes Reiki treatment as a straightforward healing method in which practitioners sense disturbances and place their hands accordingly. Other early descriptions, including newspaper reports and Hayashi-lineage materials, likewise focus on clinical practice.

In other words, Reiki was taught as a method of training and application, not as a philosophical doctrine about the non-existence of the self.

A practitioner treated a patient. Hands were placed on the body. Sensations were observed.

Healing effects were evaluated.

The Problem with Importing Zen Metaphysics

The language of “no-self,” “no-mind,” and the “Great Death” comes from Zen and related contemplative traditions within Japanese Buddhism. These ideas belong to long philosophical and contemplative lineages that developed over centuries.

There is nothing wrong with studying Zen. But when these concepts are imported into Reiki and presented as if they were central teachings of Mikao Usui, we risk distorting the historical record.

The surviving Reiki materials from the early period do not present Reiki primarily as a system built around realizing the non-existence of the self.

Instead, they emphasize something far more grounded: the cultivation of body and mind through practice.

The phrase shinshin kaizen in Usui’s teaching refers to the improvement or refinement of body and mind. It points to a process of cultivation rather than a philosophical conclusion about the nature of the self.

The Role of the Reiki Precepts

The Reiki Precepts guide the cultivation of our inner life and our conduct in the world.

Just for today
Do not anger
Don’t worry
Be grateful
Work diligently
Be kind to others

These are practical instructions for daily life. They shape how we respond to situations, how we relate to others, and how we cultivate stability in our inner life.

They do not depend on philosophical doctrines about the non-existence of the self.

Why This Matters for Students

When Reiki is framed primarily as a philosophy of “no-self,” students often become confused about what they are actually supposed to do.

Some begin to believe that:

• treatment should happen without attention
• sensations should be ignored or dismissed
• nothing meaningful is occurring during practice
• technique and training are unnecessary

In extreme cases, students are told that recognizing heat, tingling, or other sensations is evidence of being “caught in the self.”

This approach does not help practitioners develop skill. It discourages observation, learning, and disciplined practice.

The early Reiki tradition did the opposite.

Students practiced repeatedly. They observed carefully. They learned from experienced teachers. Skill developed through lived use of the teachings.

Philosophical speculation was not the center of the system.

How Reiki Practice Actually Works

A practitioner does not need to resolve philosophical questions about the existence or non-existence of the self. Nor is it necessary to interpret Reiki through Zen philosophy or any other spiritual framework. Reiki practice is simple and unfolds in ordinary ways.

In daily life, practitioners reflect on the Reiki Precepts, usually in the morning and evening, allowing them to shape the condition of the heart and mind throughout the day.

In personal practice, one may sit quietly and place the hands on the body, observing calmly the sensations and responses that arise.

In class, students receive reiju from their teacher and develop their skills through repeated hands-on practice and guidance. Early Reiki training was built around regular meetings where students practiced together and received repeated reiju from the teacher.

Over time, this steady practice naturally refines the mind and heart. Attention becomes calmer and more stable. Compassion grows. Ethical conduct strengthens.

Mikao Usui (1865–1926), founder of the Usui Reiki system.

A Tradition of Practice, Not Abstraction

Reiki emerged in early twentieth-century Japan as a practical discipline for cultivating well-being and helping others. Its strength lies in its accessibility and its simplicity.

When we overlay complex metaphysical interpretations onto the system, we risk obscuring that simplicity.

Students benefit most when Reiki is presented as what it originally was: a path of disciplined practice that refines the heart-mind through experience, ethical living, and compassionate action.

There is no need to erase the practitioner in order to practice Reiki.

It is enough to sit quietly, place the hands, and practice with sincerity.

Over time, the practice itself clarifies what Reiki is.

Continue the Exploration

If you are interested in the deeper foundations of Reiki practice, its history, and how it becomes embodied through daily training, you can explore these themes in the Substack publication “Living with Reiki.”

There the focus is on what it means to live with Reiki over the long path, not only as a healing practice but as a way of cultivating the heart-mind in ordinary life.

Subscribe on Substack to keep reading.

Most Reiki practitioners have never been taught Reiki meditation. Even students who have practiced Reiki for years often encounter meditation only as relaxation, visualization, or something optional to do before or after hands-on treatment. Historically, this was not the case.

In the earliest structure of Reiki training, meditation was one of the primary ways students learned to stabilize their bodies so Reiki could function clearly. It was not separate from Reiki practice. It was part of the training that made the practice work.

As explained in Mastering the Reiki Meditation, early Reiki students practiced meditation to repeatedly draw the light of Reiki through the body so that obstruction could dissolve and the heart‑mind, kokoro, could become steady. Meditation was not meant to produce experiences. It was meant to establish condition.

Meditation Was the Foundation of Training

In Usui’s system, meditation, hands-on practice, the Reiki Precepts, and repeated initiations were all expressions of the same training process. Students learned to orient attention above the head toward the Reiki light, then draw that light downward through the body to the seika tanden, the body’s center of stability.

Over time the body changed. Attention settled more easily, breath deepened naturally, and the practitioner interfered less with Reiki. Early Reiki training worked through repetition rather than explanation. Students were not asked to analyze their experience. They were simply asked to sit again the next day and repeat the practice.

What Reiki Meditation Actually Does

Reiki meditation does not aim to produce special states. Its purpose is to condition the body so Reiki can be received without resistance.

The structure is simple: orient to the light above the head, draw that light downward through the body, allow tension and obstruction to dissolve, and remain in stillness. With daily repetition, the body begins to recognize the pattern. Settling happens sooner, the lower body becomes grounded, and Reiki practice becomes steadier and less effortful.

Why This Practice Disappeared

Modern Reiki training often begins with hand positions and healing techniques, but historically the sequence ran in the opposite direction. Students first trained the body to remain steady while Reiki descended through the crown and spine into the lower center. Hands-on practice developed from that foundation.

When meditation disappears from training, that foundation is lost. Reiki may still function, but the practitioner often experiences it as inconsistent or dependent on mood and energy. Meditation restores the stability that early Reiki training relied on.

Restoring the Practice

To help students recover this missing foundation, I wrote Mastering the Reiki Meditation: Stabilizing Attention in Usui’s Reiki. The book presents the structure of Reiki meditation, explains how it functioned in early training, and includes a complete daily practice that can be done in as little as five minutes.

For those who prefer guided instruction, I also teach this meditation step-by-step in the Mastering Reiki Meditation online course, which includes guided practice sessions and detailed instruction in the full meditation.

Continue the Exploration

If you are interested in the deeper foundations of Reiki practice, its history, and how it becomes embodied through daily training, you can explore these themes in the Substack publication “Living with Reiki.”

There the focus is on what it means to live with Reiki over the long path, not only as a
healing practice but as a way of cultivating the heart-mind in ordinary life.

Subscribe on Substack to keep reading.

Most Reiki practitioners spend years studying techniques, hand positions, and symbols. What many never encounter is the one document in which Mikao Usui explained Reiki in his own words.

That document is called Kokai Denju Setsumei.

It is the only written teaching left by Usui. While Reiki training was transmitted directly through practice, initiation, and instruction, this short text offers a rare glimpse into how the founder understood the practice he developed.

A Document of Orientation

Kokai Denju Setsumei is not a training manual. It contains no symbols, no hand positions, and no treatment procedures. Those elements were transmitted directly through instruction.

Instead, the text explains the orientation of Reiki practice. Usui presents Reiki as a method for improving life through the cultivation of the heart‑mind, or kokoro. Healing and personal development are not separate goals. They arise from the same process of bringing the mind, body, and spirit into balance.

Reiki as a Path of Cultivation

One of the most striking features of the document is its emphasis on the practitioner rather than the technique.

Usui describes Reiki as a way of restoring harmony in life. When the practitioner’s inner condition becomes steady and sincere, both personal well‑being and the ability to help others naturally follow. The text reads less like a set of instructions and more like an orientation to the kind of person Reiki practice asks us to become.

Why This Text Matters

Because Reiki has spread across cultures and generations, the practice is now described in many different ways.

Returning to Usui’s own words can be grounding. Kokai Denju Setsumei reminds us that Reiki was originally framed as a disciplined path of personal cultivation in which helping others and refining oneself were inseparable.

Reading Usui’s Words Today

To make this foundational document accessible, I published Mikao Usui’s Instructions to Reiki Students, which presents a complete English translation of Usui’s original 1926 Kokai Denju Setsumei  (not a later version) along with brief historical context.

For practitioners who want to understand Reiki at its roots, this small text offers something rare: the opportunity to read the founder’s own explanation of the practice.

Continue the Exploration

If you are interested in the deeper foundations of Reiki practice, its history, and how it becomes embodied through daily training, you can explore these themes in the Substack publication “Living with Reiki.”

There the focus is on what it means to live with Reiki over the long path, not only as a healing practice but as a way of cultivating the heart-mind in ordinary life.

Subscribe on Substack to keep reading.

Most of us assume time moves like a river, the past flowing behind us and the future approaching. But if we examine our own experience carefully, we see something different.

When you regret the past, you are not entering the past. You are activating memory. When you worry about the future, you are not entering the future. You are rehearsing projection. Both occur now. The only place experience actually unfolds is in this present moment.

What Usui Expected From His Students

Kokoro is often translated as “heart,” “mind,” or “heart-mind,” but in practice it refers to the condition of the whole person: how we meet circumstances, how we respond under pressure, and how steady our attention and conduct remain in daily life.

If kokoro is unstable, Reiki practice becomes unstable. If kokoro becomes steady, Reiki begins to function naturally. For Usui, this was the starting point.

The Four Practices of Self-Cultivation

Usui did not teach self-cultivation as an abstract philosophy. He gave his students a small set of daily practices designed to refine kokoro through repetition.

These practices formed the core of early Reiki training:

• The Reiki Precepts (Gokai) – A daily discipline for stabilizing the mind and reducing anger, worry, and other disturbances that interfere with clarity.
•  Daily Reiki self-treatment – A simple discipline of allowing Reiki to work through one’s own body each day.
• Reiki meditation (jyoshin kokyu-ho) – A practice of allowing Reiki to fully inhabit the practitioner so that the heart-mind becomes less reactive and more available.
• Waka poetry contemplation – Students contemplated selected poems, often from the Meiji emperor, not for interpretation but to allow their orientation of mind to gradually shift through repeated contact with right-mindedness.

Together, these practices formed Usui’s system of self-cultivation. They were not optional exercises. They were the work itself.

Removing Interference

One of the most important ideas in Usui’s teaching is that Reiki does not need to be strengthened or developed.

The connection to Reiki is already present after initiation. What cultivation does is remove the habits, tensions, and disturbances that interfere with it.

The work is not to gain something new. It is to become clear enough that Reiki can function without obstruction.

Over time this changes the practitioner. Effort decreases. Reactivity softens. The body learns the difference between interfering and allowing. Reiki stops feeling like something we must manage and begins to feel like something already present.

Reiki as a Way of Living

This perspective can be surprising to modern practitioners.

Today Reiki is often described primarily as a healing modality. But in Usui’s original framework, healing practice grew out of something deeper: the steady cultivation of the practitioner themselves.

Reiki was a way of forming a person. A way of refining attention, conduct, and presence until helping others became natural rather than effortful.

A Book About the Structure of Usui’s Training

The book “Reiki as a Path of Self-Cultivation: Purifying Kokoro in Usui’s Reiki” explores this dimension of the system.

Rather than presenting Reiki as a technique or promising dramatic experiences, the book
examines how Usui structured training and why purification of kokoro was placed at the center of the practice.

For practitioners who want to understand Reiki at its roots, this perspective shifts the focus away from chasing experiences and toward something quieter and more demanding: the steady training of the person who practices Reiki.

Continue the Exploration

If you are interested in the deeper foundations of Reiki practice, its history, and how it becomes embodied through daily training, you can explore these themes in the Substack publication “Living with Reiki.”

There the focus is on what it means to live with Reiki over the long path, not only as a
healing practice but as a way of cultivating the heart-mind in ordinary life.

Subscribe on Substack to keep reading.