Reiki Diary: Day 7


It was no surprise, that even in my less than advanced state of inebriation, that my sleep was not proliferated with image or vision. Nothing at all.

There was no hangover, which was good because on reflection today was a rather busy one. The day started reasonably early (thankfully in my case post 9am but sadly not for the flu-bearing wife who was in work at 8am) as I was duty bound to get on with cooking (the second B in Bed and Breakfast) for the redoubtable Mr Fisher. If yesterdays Quorn Half Pounder Burger with Extra Fiery Mexican Chili Cheese and salad was satisfying, the look on the man’s face was practically orgasmic as his taste buds went to Def Con One after eating Parsley, Rocket, Extra Fiery Mexican Chili Cheese omelette with extra chilli flakes, served up with Quorn Sausages, toast and tropical crush.

Over breakfast, I mentioned reiki to Rich and recalled that his mum had a ‘holistic hut’ once in her garden, and I recall her getting a bit of grief over it from some irritating neighbours at the time before they had moved into the countryside. It was my understanding that she did aroma therapy and Indian head massages (though I have no recollection of ever talking to him about the treatments she used to give), so was quite surprised when he told me that she was in fact a reiki master herself. A subsequent text from him following a subsequent chat with her revealed that she said that if I ever wanted to get in touch or need any advice in my own journey (or Nicky for that matter), that she would be more than happy to oblige.

Rich also regaled me about his Glastonbury 2013 experience, which included gong therapy which he and the Fisher folks all took part in (I instantly thought of Mick in a deep trance, being surround by Daevid Allen and Co as they chant about cups of tea).

He said that it had the potential of being rather noisy and altogether unpleasant, but instead of Dave Lombardo type thrashing, the gongs that surrounded the body were gently ‘crescendoed’ so to create a wall or room of sound. According to Ma Fisher who was quizzing the hippies, the guys answers were rather wishy-washy, leaving her with the impression that it could have been a business opportunity with mild exploitation of those wishing to immerse themselves in the roots of Glastonbury.

All that being said, Rich enjoyed the gong experience, and like a great many things, having an open mind to such things can lead the mind or the body into better places, so even if it is somewhat placebo at least if it has a positive effect then there are no reasons to mock it.

One thing this diary will give me, is a head start in writing my novel. Following on from the ‘An evening with Ramsey Campbell’, I have started to resurrect my old horror story, which was tucked away in the dark and dusty recesses of the attic. Finding time during early morning, lunch break or evening will be a challenge in itself, but at present writing a couple of thousand words each day, reviewing the previous days entries will hopefully stand me in good stead for the long haul.

On that note, Mark sent me two of his short stories via email today, so I’ll set some time aside this week and review them. Luke said he would do the same so I’ll likely convert them over to .mobi files and flash them on to the Kindle.

Whilst losing weight and having a leaner look is good for the ego, its forcing me down the road of thinking of buying new clothes, as everything I have is starting to look like post-SlimFast Barry Bethel pants.

Due to the cancellation of a visit to see the folks (for reasons I won’t go into here) we were at a loss of things to do with the kids today. In another strange coincidence (surely the more and more things like this happen, the less and less chance it is of coincidence and more of something else surely…), we received a text message from one of Nicky’s friends sent out en masse stating that a friend of hers had free tickets to go see Babe – The Pig at Ness Gardens that evening. We instantly replied and to our joy the tickets were ours.

We collected the tickets from under an old rock on the driveway (slipping a contribution to the tickets previous owners through the letterbox before we left) and headed back to base camp to make the picnic. I’ve never been Ness Garden before, but the whole evening was wonderful. Idyllic setting overlook the marshes of the River Dee with the Welsh Mountain rising up like a stage back drop. The sun shone down in a cloudless sky as the performers go on with it, as we tucked in to our food, wine and cheeses.

As the performance went on and the sun made its descent behind the copse of trees, out came the blankets and we all snuggled closer on our deck chairs. Straight to the land of nod when we got in. No yoga. No reiki. No coincidences. No energy left…

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