Julie Russell, RN,LRMT,CHt.,CC.
ICRT Animal Reiki Master Teacher
Interspecies Communicator
ReikiVerdeValley.com
It was the third day of the ICRT Animal Reiki I/II Class, and I could feel something beginning to shift. The teaching had already been given, the structure understood, but now we were moving into something deeper, something that could not be explained, only experienced.
I invited my students to come with me to the “Out of Africa Wildlife Sanctuary.” I often think of going there as a living practice, a way to step beyond the classroom and into direct connection with the animal kingdom.
As we walked quietly through the park, I was not looking for anything in particular. I have learned in this work that when you listen instead of searching, something always reveals itself.
There was a stillness between us, a quiet awareness that felt different from the previous days. It was as if we were no longer there to “do Reiki.” We had become it.
And then I saw her. A lioness.
She was resting in her enclosure, completely at ease, grounded in a way that only animals seem to be. There was a presence about her that was both powerful and deeply calm.
I did not feel the need to call to her or reach toward her. There was already a connection.
Without speaking, we walked closer and stood just a few feet away. There was a fence between us, but in that moment, it did not feel like a barrier. It felt almost irrelevant to what was unfolding. We settled into stillness. Not forced, not structured, just allowing ourselves to be present.
After a few moments, sound began to emerge. Soft at first, like a whisper. A tone, then a gentle chant, rising naturally rather than being created. My student softly played his small metal singing bowl. We began to chant and hum the Reiki symbols to her, letting the sound move gently through the space.
Then, playfully but with reverence, we played from the phone the familiar song, “The Lion Sleeps Tonight.” As the tones, chants, and music blended, I could feel the field deepen. She seemed to relax more fully. A deep peace emerged in the space, connecting all of us. The energy shifted.
I could feel it immediately. The space softened, time seemed to slow, and everything became quieter, not externally, but within. She remained still, completely present.
Not watching in a guarded way. Feeling. Receiving. We stayed like that for several minutes, though it was impossible to tell how long.
And then, without hesitation, she began to lower herself. There was no caution in her movement, no sign of alertness or defense. She simply lay down. Fully. Her body softened into the earth, her paws tucking gently beneath her, her head lowering as if something within her had decided it was safe to let go. And then… she fell asleep.
A wild lioness, resting peacefully just a few feet away from us.
I felt something shift inside me as I watched her. This was no longer a moment of observation. It felt as though I had been invited into her world. Into her rhythm. Into the quiet truth of her being. And then I noticed something that stayed with me long after we left. She had not chosen to rest deep within her enclosure. She had come forward. Right to the edge. To the boundary between her world and mine.
And there, within just a few feet of us, she allowed herself to completely let go. Animals do not do this lightly. They do not soften at the edge of their world unless something in the space tells them it is safe—not just physically, but energetically, instinctively.
In that moment, I understood something in a way I never had before. This was not about proximity. It was not about technique. It was about presence. A shared coherence where there was nothing to defend against, nothing to resist. There was no hierarchy in that space. No sense of human and animal as separate or unequal. There was only presence meeting presence. And within that meeting, something natural unfolded. She rested.
Not because we had done anything to her, but because the space allowed it. Because she felt safe enough to let go. I stood quietly, aware that something important had just been shown to me—not taught, not explained, but revealed in the most direct way possible.
She had not simply received. She had demonstrated. She showed me what it means to trust, to soften, to exist in complete alignment with one’s own nature. And in doing so, she reflected something back to me.
That the connection between humans, animals, and the living world has never been broken. It has only been forgotten. It waits, patiently, for us to become quiet enough to feel it again.
For us to listen. For us to simply be.
She slept peacefully at the edge of her world. Standing there beside her, it no longer felt like there was any edge at all. Only connection. Only presence. Only a quiet memory of something that had always been there. We felt so honored to be connected to her in such a deep way. Reiki provided the bridge. It felt so sacred.
