Every so often, a student comes to me feeling unsettled after working with the Symbols They may describe feeling emotionally overwhelmed, anxious, sad, irritable, or simply "not themselves." Sometimes they wonder whether they have attracted a negative energy or encountered a harmful spiritual influence.
My response is usually the same: before we assume anything supernatural is happening, let's look carefully at what we actually know.
One of the teachings from Frans Stiene that has stayed with me over the years is his reminder that many Reiki practitioners become fascinated with the finger pointing at the moon instead of looking at the moon itself.
In other words, we become so focused on the symbols that we forget what they are pointing toward.
The symbol is the finger.
The experience, the awareness, the practice, the transformation—that is the moon.
When students become frightened by a Symbol, I often find that their attention has shifted from the moon to the finger. The symbol itself has become the focus of fear, speculation, and projection.
I do not view the symbol as carrying a bad spirit or negative spiritual energy. Rather, I see it as a tool that may bring aspects of ourselves into awareness.
Sometimes what surfaces is uncomfortable.
That does not necessarily mean something harmful has entered us. It may simply mean something that was already present has become visible.
Over the years, I have noticed that Symbol 2 for example, can coincide with students becoming more aware of emotional patterns they have carried for a long time. Old fears, unresolved grief, anxiety, anger, self-judgment, or emotional wounds may begin to emerge into conscious awareness.
When that happens, many people immediately search for an external explanation.
"What attacked me?"
"What negative energy have I picked up?"
"What spirit is affecting me?"
I understand why these questions arise. Fear naturally seeks an explanation.
But I encourage my students to ask different questions.
What am I actually experiencing?
What emotions are present?
What thoughts are accompanying these emotions?
Have I felt this way before in my life?
What is this experience trying to show me?
These questions often lead to far more insight than assuming the symbol itself is the problem.
There is another teaching from Frans Stiene that I often return to, particularly when students become concerned about energies, symbols, or what might be happening outside themselves.
He says that we all know what it feels like when someone walks into a room carrying anger—we can feel it. Likewise, when someone is calm, joyful, centred, or open, we can feel that too. Our inner state has an effect on those around us.
What he points to is something very simple but very profound: before we try to heal the world around us, we must first find balance within ourselves.
If I am still carrying anger, worry, fear, or resistance, then those qualities inevitably influence everything I do. But when I cultivate balance, openness, gratitude, and presence, that too has an effect on the people around me.
This is why I think resistance to a symbol can be such a valuable teacher.
When resistance arises, our attention can quickly move outward. We start wondering about the symbol, the energy, the experience, or what might be affecting us. Yet Frans continually brings us back to the same place: ourselves.
The question is not whether Symbols are good or bad.
The question is whether this experience is helping us become more aware of our own state of being.
Am I balanced?
Am I centred?
Am I acting from fear, or from clarity?
Am I looking at the finger, or am I looking at the moon?
The more we can return to our own balance, the less power fear has over our practice. And from that place, Reiki becomes much simpler than we often make it.
When students feel overwhelmed, I usually advise them to simplify their practice for a while. Return to self-treatment. Spend time with the Reiki precepts. Sit quietly. Focus on the breath. Go for a walk. Allow the nervous system to settle.
There is no prize for forcing yourself through a spiritual experience that feels too intense.
Grounding is part of spiritual practice.
I also remind students that not every uncomfortable experience is a sign that something has gone wrong. Growth is not always comfortable. Becoming aware of our patterns is not always comfortable. Healing is not always comfortable.
Discomfort by itself is not evidence of danger.
What matters is how we meet that discomfort.
Do we meet it with curiosity, patience, and awareness?
Or do we immediately create a story around it?
As a teacher, I have found that the students who progress most steadily are not the ones who spend the most time worrying about symbols, energies, or spirits. They are the ones who keep returning to practice itself.
They keep returning to the moon.
The symbol remains what it has always been—a pointer, a teaching aid, a finger indicating a direction.
My invitation is always the same: do not become so fascinated or frightened by the finger that you forget to look where it is pointing.
