
If our brain is the control centre of our body, then the heart is our throbbing motor. It pumps the oxygenated blood to every extremity and organ: it’s our life force. But it also has a huge part to play in our emotional well-being. In energy terms, the heart centre or Anahata Chakra, is the divine centre of ourselves. It’s where we hold love, compassion and kindness – both for ourselves and others. No wonder then, when the energy around that area gets blocked, it causes massive problems – physically and emotionally.

I remember one client who had had a very difficult childhood and, in order to escape her parents, had drifted into a loveless marriage when she was quite young. I’ll call her Ruth. When I saw Ruth she was well into her forties and had had a string of affairs. Her face was pinched and she had all manner of, at this stage, minor ailments. When I talked to her prior to treatment, Ruth said everything in her life was fine. She insisted that she was happy and had accepted her relationship for what it was: a base for bringing up the children, nothing more. She was even going back to studying – ironically, as a psychotherapist to try to help other people.
As I began the Reiki session, I could feel that her head was fizzing with activity. But, as I moved down her body, I could sense very little energy radiating from her at all and, when I reached her mid chest, the area around her heart centre was icy cold. I’ve never felt anything like it before or since.

I tried everything I could to balance her chakras, pulling energy down from her head to her heart and then up from her base to her heart – but nothing worked. Ruth’s Anahata Chakra remained well and truly blocked. No wonder she felt out of sorts. Had I known about ThetaHealing at that time I might have recommended a course but I didn’t so we continued with Reiki.
After one session when I’d felt a slight increase in activity around Ruth’s heart centre, we were discussing what was going on in her life. She confided in me that her brother, the person she loved most in the world after her children, was terminally ill. Ruth broke down and began sobbing. I let her cry and, when she looked up, her face was radiant. There was colour in her cheeks, her features were soft and even her voice was more gentle than before. As she stood up, she said she felt dizzy so sat down and, as she did so, I saw her face change again. It was like watching an actor putting on a mask. She once more became harsh and pinched and, as she left, she said she wouldn’t be coming back. Ruth had opened up and allowed someone to see inside – and it had clearly terrified her.
I sometimes wonder about Ruth and what she’s doing now. I hope, for the sake of her clients that she’s learned how to open her heart to herself and others. Going through life pretending that everything is `fine’ is not being authentic. There are times when all of us have good times: great times even. When we’re blissfully happy and things are going well. But it’s not realistic to pretend that life’s like that all the time. We all have difficult times – some more than others – and it’s OK to acknowledge that. I recommend that we all open our hearts and express our feelings. Perhaps not all the time – I’m not sure it would benefit us or our local community if we all walked around bawling our eyes out – but when we’re in a safe place with people we trust. And once our fears, sadness, loneliness, depression, anger and all the other emotions that are judged to be `negative’ have been expressed, there’s room for joy, happiness, love and kindness.

Bottling up our emotions, pretending everything’s fine when it isn’t is like sweeping dust under the carpet; eventually, that rug will rot!
