...and the bliss of becoming nobody
Learning to channel is the essence of reiki.
And the essence of channeling, is becoming nobody.
Around 10 years ago, I was meditating in my little beach shack on the Mornington Peninsula, when I felt a gentle tweak in the back-left of my brain. I came out and said to my wife "something's happened." I couldn't for the life of me remember the names of family members, friends... I couldn't actually put a sentence together. Words just were not connecting. Part of me panicked, of course, yet the greater aspect of me recognised something profound had shifted within. You see, the narrator, the monkey-mind—whatever you want to call it—had just left the building. There was silence.
I'd go to my work as an instrumental music teacher rehearsing the names of my colleagues in advance, so as not to get caught out. I'd even rehearse conversation topics in an effort to remain relevant in a workplace that was quickly disappearing (I'd also been working in reiki for some time—yet not quite owning it). But I couldn't quite keep up. By the time I'd formulated words on a particular topic in group conversation, it had already moved on. I felt quasi-mute, which was unnerving, as I was what you'd call "a funny guy". Well, I'd like to think I still am, actually :)
Until this point, I'd essentially kept my astral experiences to myself, for fear of being seen as a nutcase (maybe). My reiki world, which was my passion, was pretty hush hush as well. A friend who knew me recognised the brain tweak/word bog/dumped narrator thing to be, in her words, "a trade-off," as in, my spiritual leg had just taken the weight off my earthly one. There had been a shift. Quite literally. And so began the process of balancing my life accordingly.
I quit my teaching job. As the words came back, I felt I couldn't remain inauthentic. The old vocabulary just wasn't there anymore. As a word-recall therapy, I began to write a book of my astral awakening. The process forced me to find the words to complete a full sentence. Plus, it kind of wrote itself... The cogs were moving differently. I felt the silence around my mind reshaping a new landscape. It felt good, it felt empty (as in, lots of space), and it felt like home.