The Strangest Club I Ever Joined (Reiki Shares)

Before I moved on to Reiki Level Two, there was this odd but strangely comforting in-between phase – the Reiki share.

If you’re unfamiliar, Reiki shares are informal meet-ups where people come together to practise Reiki on each other. Sounds simple enough. But what I walked into felt more like a secret club that didn’t have any rules – except one: trust the energy.

These sessions were organised by my Reiki teacher. She’d invite a group of people she knew – some she’d trained, others she hadn’t. Some were Level One like me, others were masters. A few hadn’t trained at all. Didn’t matter. The only common thread was a shared belief that energy meant something – and that something important could happen when we worked with it together.

We’d meet every couple of weeks on a weekday evening, though when exactly was always a mystery. The plan was for it to be regular. It rarely was. Timekeeping wasn’t exactly a priority. I’d often arrive on the dot, conditioned by years of corporate punctuality, only to find people still arriving half an hour later, drifting in with armfuls of blankets and herbal tea. Apparently, “the energy will guide us.”

This lack of structure drove me mad at first.

But I kept going back.

Partly because I wanted to learn. Partly because it felt like something good was happening – even if I couldn’t explain it. And mostly because I realised, session by session, that maybe I didn’t need to rush. That there was value in letting things unfold without a rigid agenda.

Each Reiki share was different. Some nights, it felt profound. Others, confusing. Sometimes I’d feel the energy like heat in my palms or see colours behind my eyes. Other times, nothing. But I started to understand that the point wasn’t consistency or outcome. The point was presence. Giving. Receiving. Being part of something shared, however strange it felt at first.

It was the first time I experienced Reiki not as a treatment or a training, but as a conversation. A quiet, collaborative practice with no finish line. No certificates. No clients. Just people showing up with open hands and good intentions.

Looking back, it was a kind of unspoken training ground – a space where I could experiment, observe, and be supported while I figured things out. No one expected me to know what I was doing. That was refreshing.

Reiki shares taught me patience. They challenged my need for control. And they gently reminded me that not everything has to fit into a schedule or make sense to be worthwhile.

In a world that moves fast and rewards urgency, this strange little community offered something radical: space.

And I didn’t realise how much I needed that.