My mom, my godmother, and my aunts live in Belgium. They are four women in their 80s, and I call them the Golden Girls. My Godmother is Blanche Dubois, still flirting at 83. One aunt is Betty White, and my mom is the cranky one. They are adorable...for a few hours. But spending eight days together was… let’s say… instructive?

Seeing myself reflected in my mom (just 40 years later) was between hilarious and terrifying. Although she has her soft moments, she could be defined as a cross between General Franco, a Jack Russell, and a bulldozer.

Meditation helped… to a point. Crankiness seemed to be contagious, no matter how much I breathed. Anytime I got cranky, my mom laughed. “You see,” she pointed out, “this meditation thing is not working!”

Needless to say, meditation for my Golden Girls is the equivalent of GMO veggies for us.

But sitting with my feelings worked. Just not in the usual blissful stereotyped way. Beyond the fact that we all survived my visit without major drama, sitting with my anger, frustration, or panic opened my eyes to new parts of myself.

It also pushed me to make friends with my fear of aging and decide what some of the things I don’t want to lose are. Among them, my curiosity, my sense of humor, and my spiritual practice.

I came back from my trip exhausted, but a clearer, more centered person.

When I teach, the first thing I have to battle is the concept that meditation or Reiki practice will make life perfectly smooth. That there will be no more fear, anger, stress, or frustration. When in reality, they are tools to listen to the lessons and insights these feelings have to offer. Tools to help us feel compassionate and grateful more often than bitter and resentful. 

Reiki is not magic, but it does feel like it sometimes.

My team at the uni. We loved taking pics in black and white because it felt more artsy ;-)

When I was in university, one of my teachers decided to make a deal with the whole class: he would not fail any of us as long as we did the assignments.

The class was on TV and cinema production. The fact that we could not fail didn't make us lazy or careless. On the contrary, it gave us the freedom to take risks and explore themes we would have never considered if we had to be concerned with grades. I remember writing absurd scripts, creating surreal backgrounds from scratch, and learning how to make TV blood (ketchup with grenadine). As a team, we came together without fights. We even figured out how to fake the explosion of a car. We had fun. We also made tons of mistakes, but we learned from them, and those lessons served us well for the rest of our lives.

However, every day of my life, I am a little afraid of failing: of saying the wrong things, giving a half-ass Reiki session, or running out of money when I am old. It's not just me—I see it all around me, constant worry. People are afraid of losing their jobs, of not being good enough, of not being loved.

What if we could do the same in life that my teacher did in class: permit ourselves never to fail. Take the pressure off every decision we make. Understand that if we quit our job, there will always be another one. If we had a fight, we could always reach out. That even if we become who we always wanted to be only for a minute, the rest of our life is not a failure—it's just what we needed to get to those glorious 60 seconds.

A difficult task, and one I am working hard on by meditating and doing healing sessions—but most importantly, by reminding myself constantly that life is an exploration, an adventure, and I can't fail at it. That success is what I define.

Every Sunday evening, I teach a Reiki + Meditation community class at YES, a lovely yoga studio in Ridgewood. It’s one of the highlights of my week. Most of the attendants are young, joyful, and very chatty.  As soon as the class starts, however, they go quiet and put on a solemn, “peaceful” expression. It’s too tempting. I make them do the silliest of shakeouts. Regulars now do it laughing, but every week I see the newbies giving me the side eye while thinking, “Is this a joke? Is she for real?” Until we really start... and they discover the class is not about easy guided meditations or Reiki sparkles. By the end of the class, their eyes open in wonder about how good they feel.

Joy is often misunderstood as lack of seriousness or depth when it comes to Western spirituality, probably the influence of more Judeo-Christian approaches. Yet—when we go back to Buddhism—joy is the fourth factor of awakening, just behind energy.

Joko-san, the abbot of the meditation hall in Japan where I spent three weeks, kept repeating every time he saw: “just enjoy breathing, enjoy!” In other words: just breathe, clear your mind from anger and fear, and learn how to embody joy. For yourself and others. And if that sounds pretty much like the Reiki precepts, it’s not a coincidence: Buddhism is one of the roots of Reiki practice.

A few days ago, I spent a whole week with my teacher and mentor Frans Stiene. He is a very joyful teacher. He makes jokes all the time, dances, sings, pokes fun at the shy students. He’s never ashamed of being silly. But he is also one of the Reiki teachers with more knowledge, depth, and compassionate energy I’ve met. Joy makes his teaching approachable. It also makes it easy to sit for hours of training and feel safe to ask the most absurd questions.

Frans many times has said that to offer Reiki, you need to overflow with the energy. That the end goal of the practice is to integrate it into real life. Spreading joy is, in my opinion, a great way to do it.

So, next time you take a meditation class, get a Reiki session, or even a massage, smile and let me know if it made a difference.

Love and light,
Nathalie

Frans in New York.

We all wonder: how is Frans Stiene outside his classes? Is he serious? Does he levitate while sleeping? Does he snore? Does he cry while watching Netflix? And, most importantly, is he different from the way he behaves in class? The answer to all those questions is no (well, he didn’t have time to watch Netflix, and I have a feeling he may be a bit of a crier but don’t tell him). How do I know this? I was his host for a week, which gave me a great sneak peek at Frans’ behind the scene life. Secret info he has generously allowed to share with you.

Frans often highlights that we need to bring our practice into daily life. That the ultimate goal of Reiki is to shine our bright light 24/7. As Seigen Yamaoka explains in The Art and the Way of Hara, “A person of Hara is a person who lives the life of Hara in every aspect of their life. This way of life gives them confidence, direction, a sense of responsibility, meaning, and an awareness of the things in the world about them.”

One thing is to hear Frans talk about this or to read it in Japanese masters’ texts. To witness this... is an entirely different experience. One I was not quite ready for. So here are a few things I learned that may come in handy if you ever host him:

If there is a selfie happening nearby, he will photobomb it. Which means that if you are in a rush, avoid famous parks, buildings, or streets. Use alleyways, boring avenues (in New York, second, third, and seventh are highly recommended) and try to keep him entertained. If photobombing occurs, relax. The “selfie makers” will feel his hovering presence, give him the side eye first, and then melt and giggle. They will proceed to create a whole new series of happy selfies with Frans.

If you think the selfies incidents are a bit uncomfortable, that’s nothing. Frans loves taking photos. As his host, you will become his favorite photo prop, no matter how you look or what you wear. “Pose here, move there, strike a pose, higher, lower, change, more left hand...” As a future host, I highly recommend that you watch old episodes of Top Model with Tyra Banks. Mastering a few iconic poses will help you survive impromptu photo shoots.

He likes to sing. A lot. He will wake up and sing. He will move around the apartment and sing. He will walk the streets and sing. And not in a low voice, oh no! He will walk and sing the full precepts in Japanese like it was a Broadway musical (talk about taking your practice into daily life). As this happened in the West Village where every waiter wants to be a Broadway star, people didn’t stare at him. The few that did were probably wondering what lyrics was he singing (farewell my concubine?) If any of you is a composer or a musical producer, would you consider creating Mikao Usui the Musical? It would channel this curious passion of Frans and save us, his hosts, a lot of grief. Especially those who live in towns where waiters don’t dream of Broadway.

He believes in interconnection so much that he talks to everybody. People don’t talk to strangers in New York… unless they are drunk. But that didn’t stop Frans. Stressed out waiters? A little chat with Frans made them smile. Snarky uber drivers? Ditto. People walking on the street? They were not safe, either. We ended up being offered pot at the Vessel (a new experiential structure in Hudson Yards), discussing life with a blonde (and very chesty) millionaire who was on her way to Milan’s fashion week, and discovering that servers are not that happy at the new Little Spain market.

If there are cops nearby, run. No, Frans doesn’t carry anything weird, but he will find a way to come up with a prank. In my case, there was a plastic bag with something white inside on the street, and he started screaming, “Officer, officer, someone dropped his coke.” I wanted to die. This is New York: cops are not friendly. However, like all the other people, as soon as they saw him smiling, they went from grumpy to gooey and started joking, “No man, that’s my coke.” I am 100 percent sure that if I had made that joke, I would be in jail.

Breakfast with Frans is a very peaceful experience. You know all the emails we send him with questions or invitations? Well, he answers most of them during breakfast. Take advantage to do any essential reading, email answering, or showering. Feeding him fresh croissants and baguettes at this time is a good idea. His smile increases with each bite (Hum, now I wonder, are croissants the real secret behind his Reiki happiness?)

There is only one “person” immune to Frans’ Reiki-fueled charm. Her name is Alexa, and she refused to play music, tell the time or finding the right information when he asked her. He spent the whole week struggling with my beloved Amazon-powered little helper. I never said to him that the trick was leaving a pause between her name and the command so she would know he was talking to her. If you are reading this Frans, I am deeply sorry. But it was too entertaining to watch you struggle.

My last bit of advice: be prepared. Doing a little bit of homework beforehand can help genuinely embrace the experience of being a Frans host. I recommend watching the Borat movies, a few episodes of Absolutely Fabulous and, as I mentioned, Top Model. You will then be ready to laugh more in a week than you’ve laughed in months.

And Frans, Alexa says you are welcome to stay anytime. She will behave from now on.

Many of us have pondered on our life purpose. Mostly when we feel stuck, unhappy or empty. Are we meant to slave in our office in order to achieve corporate success or find our passion so everything falls into place (or so they tell us)?

Are we supposed to help, serve or inspire others? Or follow our inspiration and become athletes, artists, leaders?

Do love, family, marriage gives us a purpose?

But, do we really need a purpose to live a meaningful life?
Or do we just need to live meaningfully?

I actually like the idea of life purpose, but on the other hand, have I been narrowing my outlook by trying to define it?

I was discussing this with a friend the other day. We both kind of felt it was probably just semantics.

But the more I sit with these concepts of having a life purpose versus "just being"—and living every minute of our lives up to who we truly are—they feel different.

One feels narrower.

The other feels open, accepting and liberating.

So for now, I think I will just be. Taking life minute by minute.

Practicing Reiki, smiling at the lady who prepares my perfect green tea latte at Starbucks, and not being too hard on myself when I check Instagram a bit too much.

ps: would love to hear your thoughts on the matter! Leave a comment. 

Image: False Mirror, from Belgian painter René Magritte