When Harriet showed up at my place, I could sense a pool of tears just behind her eyes. She was in the clutches of a deep persistent grief that urged her to come to me for Reiki. Sitting on the couch in my sun-drenched living room, she began telling me the story of her life. About her love, Pesalili, their relationship, their breakup, and his sudden death by fentanyl overdose. She had been convinced after the breakup they would be together again; so, his death, four years ago, was devastating, the grief unrelenting.
When the session started and we dropped into the Reiki trance, I sent out my intentions to the Spirit of her beloved. I asked him to give me some sort of information I could share with her that would be of comfort, to let Harriet know despite his passing he was still here with her.
Placing my hands gently about her ears the tears began. She sobbed and sobbed as Reiki flowed through me to her. When I placed my hands on her heart-space a vision began to emerge. Suddenly I was standing at some distance behind a man in overalls leaning over a bucket mixing some materials for building. He spoke telepathically never turning his head to face me. He explained the grief of his death had created a hole in Harriet’s heart. Quite literally, at that moment I was shown a graphic of a human heart with a gaping hole through it like a tunnel. All the while the man stirred the contents of the bucket, and continued talking to me without speaking.
He said, “Together, you and I are healing the hole. We’re filling it up. You with Reiki and me with spackle.”
“Spackle?!” I chuckled to myself. And just like that the vision ended. That was the message I was to deliver.
During the debrief and integration period of the Reiki session, I mentioned the vision to my client—the grief-driven hole in her heart, and the mending of it with Reiki and heavenly spackle supplied by her deceased loved one. Her eyes were filled with awe and wonder when I described it. She responded by telling me that her guy was born with an actual hole in his heart. How he struggled to live as a newborn. She also explained that his name, Pesalili, means builder in Tongan, their native tongue. It was only then understood the specificity of his message and that it was in direct response to my request at the beginning of the session.
As always, I was shocked and bewildered by the directness of the communique. Also, as always, I remain awed and humbled by the presence and proximity of our ancestors, of history, of the Spirit-world—how they reside right there, beside us, loving us, at every turn.
