Jon Cat helps in the healing sessions that people attend here at Peace Heal Love Wellbeing Centre. He is our Animal Reiki teacher, but he also brings his own particular kind of magic into the room — allergy dependant, of course.
He does what I call the “Catscan”.
Jon will often quietly move around the body, sensing where the energy is needed, where something is shifting and, perhaps most importantly, when the body has finished processing the healing it has received. I speak with animals, and with Jon there is often a very clear sense of what he is doing, what he is noticing and when his part in the session is complete.
On an occasion recently, the body on the bed had just received Bowen. Bowen is such a gentle therapy, but gentle does not mean insignificant. Small, precise moves are made over the body, followed by periods of rest which allow the nervous system and the body’s own healing responses time to process what has been offered. So much of the work happens in the pauses, in that quiet space where the body is given the chance to remember its own rhythm.
Jon seems to understand this beautifully.
He will often stay close during those quieter moments, adding his presence to the space while the body settles, softens and integrates the treatment. Animals can bring something very particular into a healing room. They do not analyse what is happening. They do not try to force an outcome. They meet us through presence, instinct and heart, and there is something deeply sacred in that simplicity.
Sometimes their presence seems to change the whole feel of the room. The space becomes softer, quieter, more held. They seem to meet the parts of us that sit beneath language and thought, the places that simply need to feel safe enough to release, receive and rest.
As I so often teach, we don’t need our hands for healing. Healing comes from the heart.
Jon reminds me of that again and again.
Sometimes healing is not about doing more. Sometimes the body needs space. It needs quiet. It needs permission to stop holding everything together for a while, to rest, repair, rebalance and allow its own wisdom to come forward.
And animals can be extraordinary companions in that process. There is an ancientness to the way they seem to know when to come close and when to step back, when to stay still and when to move. They ask us to become present too. To listen more deeply. To notice what is happening beneath words, beneath thought, beneath the noise.
Jon stays while he is needed. He observes, settles and holds the space in his own feline way. Then, when the work is complete, I hear him very clearly:
“My work here is done.”
And off he goes.
There is such a lesson in that too. To know when to help, when to simply be present and when to step away and trust the body, the energy and something greater than ourselves to continue the healing.
I am humbled every day to work alongside this healing Master, and to be reminded that some of our greatest teachers arrive quietly, on four paws, working through instinct, wisdom, spirit and heart.
