My Belgian family has a knack for weird stories. Fake suicides that become real. Covering up for Russian spy networks during WWII, and marrying exotic dancers with fake names stolen from novels. They lost many houses to gambling, and many lovers to drink. No wonder they ended up ruined.
But despite their madness, they were also survivors. A great, great uncle survived close to two years in a concentration camp at 60. When he was released, he avoided the issue by joking that the “simplified meals” helped him get rid of gout.
My great uncle made his way out of occupied Belgium and France bribing guards with cognac.
And my grandparents and father survived 13 days in a lifeboat with scarce food and water after their boat was sunk by a German U-boat.
Through the years, they have been my inspiration. All of them…except my grandmother. She is reported to have spent the 13 days in the lifeboat putting foundation powder on her face to look immaculate while repeating “this can’t be happening” like a mantra.
She made it through in one piece. And now that the first thing I do every morning is to put on lipstick, I have a newfound understanding and respect for her. Like her, this simple routine helps me feel like myself again.
We all are different. And we all have our ways to cope. For me, it’s lipstick and meditation; for you, it may be yoga, and, for others, it's a zoom happy hour. The important thing is to check with ourselves:
What do we need to feel more calm and centered?
What brings a little bit of happiness and joy to our life right now?
Is it reasonably healthy for us emotionally and physically?
Is it respectful of other people’s well-being?
And then go for it, without self-judgment and with loads of compassion.
Love,
Nathalie

n Reiki practice, there is a ritual called Reiju, also called attunement. It's a spiritual offering from the Reiki teacher to the student. Although each time you receive a Reiju, it feels different, you often experience a great feeling of love and being home—total oxytocin high.
So when my teacher used me as a guinea pig for a 20-minute long Reiju at a retreat recently, I was ecstatic. And the first few minutes where that: a deep feeling of connection, love, and total wellbeing. But then… things shifted. Fears started popping right and left. I felt shame—what would my teacher think of me being afraid of sharing the Reiju space with him? I felt guilt—why can't I enjoy this? But there was also a part of me just witnessing all of this happening. A part that whispered,  just allow your feelings to exist. And there I sat, completely exposed and vulnerable, and it felt great. Not the "high-as-kite-kind-of-great" I was expecting. It was a deeper sense of great: one that came from being seen 100% and loved anyway.
The other day a friend complained about not been seen. This made me think. To be seen we need people who accept us entirely, but we also need to do our part. We need to be brave and vulnerable enough to show everything we are.

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