In July, I taught a Reiki course that didn’t exactly go as planned. In fact, the first day barely happened at all. Shortly after we arrived at the venue, we discovered that one of the students’ cars had been broken into. The shock of it rippled through the group and, understandably, emotions ran high.
Added to that, one student had mild food poisoning, another’s garage door broke that morning which delayed her arrival, and on the second day, I couldn’t get my PowerPoint presentation to work meaning I had to teach without any visual aids. It really felt like everything that could go wrong did go wrong.
And yet… the second day of the course was beautiful. The students gave and received distance Reiki treatments, the attunements were done, and there was a deep sense of presence in the room. We decided to complete the missed theory during an online session in the coming weeks. This just showed how adaptive and willing to flow with the situation, this wonderful group of students were. I am eternally grateful to them.
What I’ve Learned (and What I’ll Do Differently Next Time)
When things go wrong, especially during energy work like Reiki, it can be tempting to search for someone to blame, or to blame ourselves. But often, it’s more helpful to ask: What is this trying to teach me?
I did a lot of thinking in the days following the course and here’s what I’ve taken away from the experience:
1. Don’t teach from an empty cup, or in this case, from empty dantians
Leading up to the course, I was physically and emotionally drained from an unexpected house move. It wasn’t something I could reschedule, and neither was the course — students had booked accommodation and travelled from afar, and I had already paid for flights and my own accommodation. So I pushed through.
In hindsight, it’s clear that my three dantians — the energy centres we focus on so heavily in Level 2 — were all running very low. I was physically tired (hara), emotionally stretched (middle dantian), and mentally foggy (upper dantian). Ironically, I was about to teach others how important these energy centres are, while mine were depleted!
This was a powerful and humbling insight. Going forward, I’ll take more care to nourish myself before teaching. That includes:
- Eating grounding, nourishing foods (root vegetables, grains, warm meals)
- Avoiding caffeine and sugar
- Drinking lots of water and staying hydrated
- Taking time for deep rest, even just 30 minutes of quiet when I feel tired
2. Energetic preparation is just as important as physical preparation
In the busyness of moving, I skipped some of the energetic preparations I normally do before a course. Looking back, I realise how vital these practices are — not just for creating a safe and sacred space for students, but to support my own energy as a teacher.
Next time, I’ll make sure to create time for:
- Doing more self-Reiki daily in the week leading up to a course
- Setting energetic boundaries and intentions for the course ahead of time
- Intentionally inviting Reiki and spiritual support to “join” me in teaching
- Grounding myself before students arrive
3. Teachers need to model calm and flexibility in the face of disruption
When the break-in happened, I had to stay present, manage my own emotional response, and support the group. Everyone was supportive of each other, we all stayed level-headed and just dealt with the situation as best we could. Everyone was given the space to deal with the shock in their own ways. But I hadn’t realised how much what had happened impacted me until hours later, when the adrenaline wore off.
I’ve learned that:
- It’s okay to admit when something affects you too
- Holding space means staying grounded, even (especially) when things and the people around you are wobbly
- It’s wise and responsible to pause or adapt when needed, like we did by not continuing with the class on Saturday
4. There is no “perfect” format for a Reiki class – the message will still get across
When the cables between my laptop and the projector failed to connect on day two, I had to let go of my familiar structure of visual aids, and rely on my voice, my experience, and the energy of the group. And it worked. The students stayed engaged, asked questions, and received what they needed, including the very important Level 2 attunement. Visual aids are just a bonus.
This experience reminded me that while slides and visuals are helpful, the real teaching comes from sharing knowledge, intention, and presence.
Two weeks later our live online class also couldn’t go ahead as planned! We couldn’t believe it. Another obstacle. But we were not going to let it stop us!
My solution was to record the lesson and send the video out for everyone to watch in their own time. It showed me how flexible teaching can (should?) be. In the past, I’ve taught the Master Level 3(a) in Pretoria and Level 1 in George as a mix of live online sessions and in-person classes. This time, with Level 2, I had to try something different—combining a prerecorded video with the in-person teaching, without any live online element. Maybe this kind of blended approach is way forward for courses?
Final Thoughts
If you’re a Reiki teacher, space holder, or practitioner I hope this post reminds you that it’s okay when things don’t go to plan.
There are lessons in the disruptions.
There is growth in the messiness.
There is magic in the moments we didn’t prepare for.
