If there’s one thing animals have taught me, it’s that stillness is more than just being quiet. It’s a whole way of being. As an animal Reiki practitioner, I’ve had plenty of moments where an animal showed me something no book or training ever could. A nervous rescue dog trembling in a corner, a senior cat resting with the wisdom of years—they all have something to say, even when they aren’t making a sound.
When I first got into Reiki, I thought it was about doing something—sending energy, fixing problems, making things better. But animals don’t see it that way. They don’t force healing; they invite it. And they do it by being still. That was a game-changer for me. It made me realize that real connection, real communication, happens in those quiet moments when you stop trying so hard and just be.
The Silent Wisdom of Animals
I remember working with a particularly anxious dog named Bella. She had been through a rough past, and trust wasn’t something she gave easily. At first, I did what I thought was right—approaching slowly, offering treats, speaking softly. But she was still on edge. Then I stopped. I sat down a few feet away and focused on my breathing. I didn’t call her. I didn’t try to make her feel better. I just was.
It took time, but eventually, she walked over, sat next to me, and let out a long sigh. That was the moment I knew I was on the right track. Stillness wasn’t something I did for her. It was something I shared with her. Animals pick up on our energy way more than we realize. They don’t care about our words nearly as much as the feeling behind them.
That experience and so many others made me rethink my whole approach to Reiki. Instead of trying to create a connection, I learned to allow it. Instead of focusing on what I could do, I learned to focus on how I could be.
The Challenge of Stillness in Our Modern World
Stillness sounds simple, but let’s be real—it’s not. We live in a world that moves fast. Emails, notifications, deadlines—it’s a never-ending stream of go go go. Sitting in stillness? That feels impossible. And if you do manage to slow down, there’s a nagging voice that says you’re being unproductive, lazy, or wasting time.
A lot of us carry some deep-seated beliefs about stillness that make it harder than it needs to be. Like the idea that being still means doing nothing. It doesn’t. It means allowing. Or the fear that if we stop, uncomfortable thoughts or feelings might come up. Yeah, that can happen, but avoiding them doesn’t make them disappear.
Then there’s the myth that stillness is selfish, that we should always be doing something for others. But here’s the thing: when we take time to be still, we actually show up better for those around us. Including our animals.
It’s no coincidence that anxious dogs tend to have anxious owners, or that a cat will avoid someone whose energy is all over the place. Our state of mind affects them more than we realize. So, maybe stillness isn’t just good for us—it’s good for them, too.
The Reiki Path to Stillness
Reiki has a way of making you face yourself. It’s not about fixing things; it’s about being present with what is. The five Reiki precepts lay it out pretty clearly:
- Just for today
- Do not anger
- Do not worry
- Be humble
- Be honest in your work
- Be compassionate to yourself and others
They sound simple, but actually living them? That’s where the real work is. Anger and worry don’t just disappear because you tell them to. They creep in, and they’ll keep creeping in unless you meet them with stillness. That’s what makes Reiki such a great tool for this—it teaches you to slow down and sit with whatever comes up, instead of trying to push it away.
I started incorporating more meditation into my Reiki practice, not just for the animals but for myself. And something shifted. The more I leaned into stillness, the more the animals responded. They could feel the difference, even if I wasn’t “doing” anything.
Principles of Animal Reiki: Embracing Stillness in Practice
Animal Reiki isn’t about giving Reiki to an animal. It’s about sharing a space of healing. That means honoring their agency—letting them decide if they want to engage, rather than forcing an interaction.
Stillness plays a role in every part of this practice. Meditation helps us stay centered. Respecting animal boundaries keeps us from pushing our own agenda. Creating a heart-to-heart connection happens naturally when we stop trying so hard. And the “non-doing” approach? That’s the core of it all. The less we try to make something happen, the more it unfolds on its own.
Animals as Our Teachers of Stillness
If you’ve ever watched a cat bask in a sunbeam or a dog settle into a deep sleep, you’ve seen what true stillness looks like. They’re not overthinking. They’re not planning the next move. They’re just there.
Animals have an incredible ability to reflect our inner state. If we’re tense, they pick up on it. If we’re calm, they relax. That’s why stillness isn’t just about us—it directly affects them, too.
I’ve had moments where I was stressed and distracted, trying to connect with an animal, and they just weren’t having it. The second I took a deep breath and let go of the tension, everything changed. It’s like they were waiting for me to show up in the right energy before they were ready to engage.
The Heron’s Wisdom: A Guide to Inner Peace
Herons are the masters of stillness. They don’t rush. They don’t flail around. They stand, they wait, and when the time is right, they act with precision. They trust the flow of life in a way that’s honestly inspiring.
There’s an old saying: “A heron teaches us to be at peace with waiting.” That’s something a lot of us struggle with—trusting that things will unfold as they’re meant to, without constantly trying to control every detail. But the more we practice stillness, the more we realize that everything we need is already here.
The Gifts of Stillness for Animals and Ourselves
At the end of the day, stillness isn’t about sitting in a meditation pose for hours. It’s about presence. It’s about meeting the moment as it is, without trying to change it. When we do that, something shifts—not just in us, but in the animals around us.
Stillness isn’t empty. It’s full of connection, trust, and understanding. It’s the space where healing happens. And the best part? It’s always available. We just have to be willing to step into it.
If this resonates with you and you’d like to explore the world of Animal Reiki and communication, I offer classes to help deepen your understanding and connection. Whether you’re new to Reiki or looking to refine your practice, there’s always more to learn. Feel free to reach out—I’d love to share this journey with you.