An inadvertent energy healing and spontaneous dog reiki, both received in the same week.
This shouldn’t surprise me because I live in the esoteric epicentre of Australia – Byron Bay. I’m used to walking past llamas on leashes or shopping with barefooted bikini nymphs as I drop snacks for school lunches in my shopping trolley.
The energy healing came as the osteopath worked on my son. ‘Your pattern is holding him back so I’ve worked on you too.’ I’d been sitting across the room on a couch and confess that my first thought was disbelief – How? Next thought was to wonder if this was going to cost extra. Time spent here melts your Melbourne cynicism but I still find a few things that catch on my old beliefs.
But random acts of reiki, on a dog, without a witness, I would think I’d dreamt it.
Returning from a beautiful Saturday morning walk I caught up to my neighbour as I reached the crest of the last hill. A canary-yellow car with a long bare waving arm stopped next to us. ‘Is this the way to the Boomerang Festival?’ the foreign-accented owner asked as she leaned out the window.
‘No, you’ll need to turn… ’
‘What’s your dog’s name?’ Cathy’s lumbering old rescue boxer, George, had joined us and poked his head into the window.
‘Can I give him a treatment?’
As way of agreeing, Cathy moved aside to allow the willowy blonde to unfold herself from her overstuffed nest of a car – camping gear and a mattress pushing on the capacity of the vehicle’s interior.
With the car still running and parked askew, she bent to face George on the road and ran the heel of her hand over his chest. Her coughing and vigorous throat clearing had Cathy and I raising our eyebrows at each other in wonderment. A few deep exhalations, violent spits and a kiss for George and our bird woman had disappeared, her arm waving as she twisted away through the tree tunnel. Her words – ‘He’ll be fine, now,’ – hanging in the air.
Our mouths in little ‘O’ shapes, we turned into our street. No words between us as we contemplated what had just happened.
Focusing ahead we noticed the prancing and a nervous giggle escaped from both of us simultaneously – George’s bandy old legs were trotting home like an excited puppy. ‘Do you think she works on humans?’ asked Cathy, verbalising my thoughts.
I love that after five years Byron can still pull something out of the box to remind me not to take its uniqueness for granted.