A reiki table looks a lot like a massage table. The room is warm. The music, if there is any, is low. The lightworker does not wear robes. They probably wear a soft sweater and jeans, and they will greet the client with something as ordinary as "do you want water before we start."
That level of ordinary is disorienting for people expecting something more, and it should be. There is a lot of noise online about what reiki is, most of it either mystifying it into a fog or flattening it into a spa treatment. The truth sits in the middle and is much less complicated than either version. A first session is quiet, ordinary, and hard to describe later without sounding like a person who has just had a reiki session. Nothing is required. Nothing is performed. Someone is lying down, or sometimes lying down in their own bed a thousand miles away. Someone else is holding a warm intention. Something shifts.
Pull up a chair. We made tea.
Where the word came from
Reiki is a Japanese word usually translated as "universal life energy." It was formalized in the early 1900s by Mikao Usui, a Japanese teacher who developed the system after a long fast and meditation on Mount Kurama. He passed it to a student, who passed it to another, and the practice traveled quietly across the world for about a century before it landed in a spa menu next to hot stone massage.
The word matters because the framing matters. Reiki is not something the lightworker is doing to the client. It is something the lightworker is channeling toward the client. The energy is not personal, and it is not scarce. It is love, moving through a trained set of hands, meeting a person who has agreed to receive it. That is the whole mechanism.
What the doubter is right about
Skepticism is not a problem here. It is a good instinct. Anyone about to lie on a table while another person holds their hands near, or lightly on, their body should be asking questions.
The doubter is right that reiki cannot be measured the way blood pressure can. It is right that some lightworkers overclaim, promising to cure things reiki has no business claiming to cure. It is right that "energy" is a word that gets flattened into meaninglessness in wellness spaces.
None of that changes what actually happens on the table. Most first-time clients arrive with some version of "I am open but I do not know what to expect," and most of them leave saying some version of "I have no idea what just happened but I feel like I slept for a week." The doubter and the experience can both be right at the same time.
What actually happens, step by step
Most reiki sessions run about sixty minutes. Some run ninety. The structure is remarkably consistent across lightworkers.
The intake. The lightworker will ask the client a few questions before starting. Not medical intake, not therapy. Simple things. What brought them in. Whether there is anywhere on the body they would rather not be touched, or would rather not have hands hovered over. Whether they have any physical injuries the lightworker should know about. Sometimes there is a brief conversation about what they are hoping for, though "I honestly do not know" is a perfectly acceptable answer.
The setup. The client stays fully clothed. Shoes off, glasses off, jewelry usually stays on. They lie face-up on a massage-style table, covered with a light blanket if they want one. A pillow under the knees is common. Some lightworkers play soft music, some do not. Some light a candle, some do not. There is no incense unless the client asks for it.
The session itself. The lightworker will begin at the head or the feet, depending on their training. They will move slowly through a series of hand positions, either lightly resting their hands on the body or holding them a few inches above it. The client can keep their eyes open or closed. They can talk or stay silent. They can shift position, ask for the blanket, or, yes, fall asleep. Falling asleep is common and is not a failure. The energy still lands.
The close. At the end, the lightworker will gently bring the client back to the room. Often with a hand on the shoulder, or a quiet, "whenever you are ready." There is usually a glass of water. There is often a brief check-in about anything the client noticed, though clients are not required to report anything.
That is the whole session.
What it actually feels like
This part is different for everyone, and there is no wrong version.
Some people feel warmth spreading out from the lightworker's hands. Some feel energy moving through the body in a specific, traceable way, a warm current tracking from the crown to the feet, or pooling in one spot for a while and then releasing. Some describe the whole thing later as an energetic towel twist, the body gently wrung out and set down more balanced than it started. Some feel a kind of soft heaviness, like the body is sinking two inches into the table. Some feel small, involuntary muscle releases, a hip letting go, a jaw unclenching. Some cry, quietly, without knowing why. Some feel absolutely nothing during the session and then walk out into the parking lot and realize they can breathe deeper than they have in months. Some fall asleep, hard, and wake up disoriented and rested.
Every lightworker brings something a little different to the table. Some infuse the session with drumming, using the rhythm to help move stuck energy. Some work with crystals placed on or around the body. Some incorporate breath work. Some work in complete silence. A few of the lightworkers on our roster are also intuitives or mediums, and a session with one of them may end with a short psychic message or an observation they picked up on during the work. That last part is not standard reiki, it is what a specific lightworker brings alongside it. What they all share is the reiki itself. What varies is what they wrap it in.
Occasionally a client will experience something more vivid. A memory surfacing. A wave of grief that arrives and then, oddly, moves through. A sense of a loved one who has crossed being nearby. None of that is required, and none of it is a benchmark. The most powerful sessions are often the quietest ones.
The only real ask of the client is that they be open. That is the whole ask.
What about distant reiki
Reiki does not require the lightworker and the client to be in the same room. Distant reiki, sometimes called remote or absent reiki, is a legitimate and long-standing part of the tradition, not a pandemic workaround. Lightworkers trained at the second level of reiki learn a specific set of techniques for sending energy across space, and, per the tradition, energy is not confined by geography any more than a phone call is.
A distant session usually works one of two ways. In a live remote session, the client and lightworker are on the phone or on a video call at a scheduled time. The client lies down in their own bed, on their own couch, on their own floor, wherever feels good, while the lightworker works from their own space. The intake happens on the call, the session runs for its usual length, and the lightworker checks in at the end.
In an asynchronous distant session, the lightworker sends reiki at an agreed-upon window while the client is doing whatever they are doing, though most people choose to lie down or at least sit quietly during the time. The check-in happens by text, email, or a short call after.
Clients often ask if distant sessions "work as well" as in-person ones. The honest answer is that they work differently. In-person sessions have the added dimension of physical presence, which some bodies respond to strongly. Distant sessions have the advantage of the client being in their own space, in their own bed, with their own tea, which for anxious or highly sensitive clients can actually be a deeper landing. Neither is better. They are two useful tools.
Distant reiki is also the option that makes ongoing work possible when a client and a lightworker do not live in the same city. Most of the lightworkers on our roster offer both.
What none of this is
Reiki is not a replacement for medical care. A good lightworker will never say otherwise. It sits alongside therapy, medication, doctor visits, and any other care a person is already receiving. It is a complement, not a substitute.
Reiki is also not a religion. It does not require belief in anything specific. Clients who identify as Christian, Jewish, Buddhist, agnostic, atheist, and everything in between have had meaningful sessions. The lightworker is not converting anyone to anything. There is no doctrine.
And reiki is not a performance. If a client leaves a session and the lightworker spent the hour narrating what they were "seeing" in the client's chakras or announcing dramatic visions, that is a red flag. A good session is quiet. A good lightworker may share one or two observations at the end, offered lightly, but the work is not a monologue.
What we have come to trust
The universe is love. Spirit is love. Reiki is one of the more direct, uncomplicated ways to receive that fact through the body instead of the mind.
Most people spend most of their day sending energy out. To their kids, their inbox, their partner, the news, the group text, the dog. Reiki is one of the very few hours in a week where a person is doing the opposite. They are lying still while someone else, trained to hold a specific kind of steady, quiet intention, moves love in their direction. That is rare, and it is medicine.
Most people who like their first session settle into roughly a monthly cadence after that. Some come weekly or every other week during a hard stretch, moving through grief, a life change, or a physical healing. Some go longer between sessions once things feel steady. There is no correct rhythm. The lightworker will often have a suggestion after the first session, but ultimately the body knows what it is asking for.
If someone wants to try it
The simplest way in is to book a single session with a reiki lightworker whose vibe feels right and see what happens. There is no need to prepare. There is no need to fast, meditate, or "clear energy" beforehand. Showing up as-is is the whole assignment.
A few practical notes for a first session, whether in-person or distant:
- Comfortable clothing is best. Not sweatpants unless preferred, but nothing tight at the waist.
- A small meal beforehand tends to be better than a huge one, and better than nothing.
- Twenty unhurried minutes afterward is worth blocking off. No calls scheduled right after. The body needs a beat.
- Water afterward helps. Reiki tends to make people thirsty.
- For a distant session, setting up the space in advance is part of the practice. A quiet room, phone on do not disturb, a light blanket, a glass of water within reach. The setup itself is part of the receiving.
What we hope people take with them
Reiki is not something a person has to believe in to receive. It is not a leap of faith. It is an hour of lying down while trained, steady hands hold love in a specific direction, and the body, which is much smarter than the mind gives it credit for, does the rest.
Some clients walk out and say, "I do not know what that was, but I want more of it." Some walk out and say, "that was nice, I do not know if it did anything." Both of those are honest reports. Both are welcome. Nothing about this work asks a person to pretend.
The only real requirement is a willingness to lie down and let something quiet happen. That is enough.
When someone is ready
If a person has been curious about reiki for months and keeps almost booking, this is the sign to actually book. In person if that fits their life. Distant if that fits better. Both work.
Karen Rubin has been a reiki lightworker since 2012. Her first encounter with reiki happened at the end of an ordinary yoga class, when her teacher told the room to bring their palms together and she could not. Something invisible sat between her hands. She has been practicing ever since. Her own way of describing the work reads like a small prayer: reiki is universal energy, the client is reiki, breath is the access point, and she is the conduit for it. She works with clients over Zoom in 45-minute distant sessions, wherever they are in the world. In her own words, all a client has to do is be open. And breathe.
READY TO FEEL WHAT REIKI ACTUALLY FEELS LIKE?
Book a 45-minute distant reiki session with Karen, from anywhere in the world.
