I came to reiki the way most of my clients do: flat on my back and out of ideas. Twelve years ago I was working long NHS admin shifts, sleeping badly and running on coffee and willpower. A friend dragged me to a reiki session as a birthday treat. I remember thinking it probably wouldn't do much — and then sleeping eleven hours straight for the first time in years.
I trained because I wanted to understand what had happened, and I kept going because I watched it help person after person: the new mums, the burnt-out teachers, the blokes who arrive saying "my wife booked this" and leave asking when they can come back.
My approach
No incense-heavy mystique, no pressure to believe anything. My job is to hold a genuinely quiet, warm space and to work with care and attention while you rest. Some clients experience reiki through a spiritual lens; plenty of others just know it as the deepest rest they get all month. Both are welcome here.
Sessions happen in my little studio on Cotham Hill — a calm, plant-filled room five minutes' walk from Clifton Down station, with street parking outside and herbal tea always in the pot.