by Jacques Vervier
In the yogic tradition, Shiva is revered not only as God — the embodiment of infinite stillness and consciousness — but also as the first Guru. Long before methods, scriptures, or lineages, there was Shiva: silent, radiant, unmoving. He is known as Adi Guru — the original teacher — not because he gave instructions, but because his presence alone awakened truth. His teaching was not intellectual. It was energetic. He pointed not to beliefs, but to Being.
There’s an image from ancient yoga in which Shiva, sits in perfect stillness under a tree. Around him are wise sages — old, learned, powerful. But Shiva, the youngest among them, teaches without saying a word. His silence speaks louder than any scripture.
This form of Shiva is known as Dakshinamurti — the primordial teacher, the one who awakens truth not through explanation, but through presence. He doesn’t guide, fix, or explain. He radiates. And that’s enough.
This is exactly what Reiki becomes at its deepest. Not something you do — not a method to help, heal, or direct — but something you are. When you let go of the need to act, fix, or intend, Reiki reveals itself as a state of Being, already whole.
The Trap of the Doer
In yoga, but also in daily life there’s a concept we often allude to: karma. It means action — not just what you do, but what sticks to you when you think you’re the one doing it. Every time we act with personal intention — even good intention — it leaves a subtle trace. A sense of “I did this” or “this is my energy”.
That’s where the illusion begins — what yogis call Māyā. Māyā is the pull to interfere, to control, to manage outcomes. It’s the spiritual ego that wants to do good and be good — but it’s still caught in separation.
That’s why, in deeper Reiki practice, we shift from doing Reiki to being Reiki. We stop directing energy. We stop trying to heal. We sit. We breathe. We listen. We become empty — and something far greater begins to move through us.
Even the “Saint” Is Still Bound (Until They’re Not)
In spiritual circles, we often admire the “saint” — the calm, kind, radiant figure. But in the yogic view, even the saint — if they’re still acting from a sense of self — is still bound. Still producing karma. Still held in the cycle of effort and outcome. Still entrapping themselves in the eternal cycle of birth and death.
The difference comes when there is no longer anyone acting. The body may move, the hands may rest on someone in need, the breath may flow — but there is no doer behind it. No “me” left to own the moment.
This is the space Shiva points to, and it’s the same space that deep Reiki practice opens into, the same space Siddha Maha Yoga allows to access through Shaktipat Deeksha.
You Don’t Heal — You Dissolve
When Reiki flows freely, with no intention, no interference, no expectation, it becomes something else entirely:
Not a healing technique,
But a path of unlearning,
A letting go of all the layers that thought they had to do something.
The more you be Reiki, the less there is to fix. The less you fix, the more you remember who you are. And when this memory returns — there is no separation, no goal, no healer, no healed.
Just presence. Just peace. Just light without source.
To be Reiki is to embody the Guru principle — to radiate rather than to instruct. It is Shiva’s method:
No interference.
No control.
No commentary.
Only pure, spontaneous awareness, resting in itself.
And in this space, karma loses its grip. There is nothing left to cling to the action. No trace remains. This is freedom — not philosophical, but embodied.
In truth, Reiki is not a path of healing others. It is a path of dissolving the self that wanted to heal. Not a technique of light — but a surrender into the source of all light.
The more you are Reiki, the less there is to do. The less you do, the more the Guru tattva, the Guru within, is revealed. And when Shiva within shines — there is no disciple, no healer, no goal. Only presence. Only peace.
