The Reiki Master Course in Japan

In 2015, I decided to offer the Reiki Master training for my students in Japan. When I first visited Japan that summer, I could not have imagined returning almost every year since, sometimes twice a year. I fell in love with Japan in a unique way—its indescribable culture, profound spirituality, singular customs, and special aura.

In Japan, I realized why there are differences between how Reiki is taught in the West and in Japan. In the West, Reiki has evolved into an effective energy therapy focused on quick results and general well-being. It expanded rapidly, integrating ideas and beliefs from various disciplines. However, a day spent at the sacred mountain of Kurama, the birthplace of Usui Reiki near Kyoto, reveals that Reiki is much more than just an energy therapy. In Japan, Reiki is seen as the pure energy of the gods, the Kamis, and understanding this brings everything into focus and sparks true magic.

I decided to organize a Reiki Master course in Japan because I believed it would be the best way to “explain” Reiki without getting lost in endless words. I knew that aspiring and established Reiki masters would be interested because, for those of us who practice and love Reiki, the word Japan resonates as “home.” We all long to return home eventually.

In the early years, I organized the 12-day Reiki Master course in Kyoto, Kurama, and Tokyo. Kyoto is where Usui Sensei lived for much of his life and had his mystical experience of enlightenment. Kurama is the birthplace of Reiki, where Usui Sensei achieved clarity and understanding, making it easy for everyone to feel the divine energy of the gods. Tokyo is significant as the place where Usui Sensei developed Shin Shin Kaizen Usui Reiki Ryoho, the school we know as Reiki, and where he is buried.

From the beginning, my goal was for students to have a spiritual and cultural immersion in the Japan closest to Usui Sensei—the Japan of the Meiji Era, the end of the Samurai, and the renaissance of Shintoism, Japan’s indigenous religion. Of course, time changes everything, and the Japan many of us dream of may no longer exist, just as the glamorous, elegant Paris we fell in love with in novels and films is not the one we find on our weekend trips. However, thanks to favorable turns of fate, I met Renata. With a degree in Japanese culture, a master’s in Asian politics, fluent Japanese, and living in Japan, Renata is my partner in the Reiki Master courses there.

When I first spoke to her, she was living in Tôno, Iwate, in northern Honshū, Japan’s largest island, which is home to cities like Tokyo, Kyoto, and Osaka. She founded the Hasekura program, which helps manage the exchange of best practices for social innovators and sustainable companies; she was a member and founder of the Japanese citizen empowerment platform To Know, and a project coordinator for the NPO Tono Natural Life Network, which promotes responsible rural tourism in Japan.

Why Tôno? It’s a small city with just over 25,000 residents scattered across a wide valley surrounded by sacred mountains, known as the birthplace of Japanese folklore. “It would be best if you came and got to know this place personally,” was her suggestion. Hours later, I was booking a flight to Japan, a shinkansen ticket, and a regional train ticket. My destination? Tôno, Japan.

In two months, I was in Tôno. It was winter. The snow covering everything gifted me with an unforgettable landscape. However, the magic began even before reaching Tôno. When I got off the shinkansen to take the regional train, I found myself at a tiny station that seemed pulled from a Japanese manga. There was a single track, no one around, just snow. Ten minutes later, a train arrived, resembling something from a children’s story. Japan can transport you to the future with its bustling cities and high-speed trains, and in a snap, back to a remote, almost fantastical past.

I boarded the train—small, cozy, slow, and tidy. I was the only non-Japanese passenger, of course. Ten minutes in, while I gazed out the window, an elderly couple approached me with wide smiles. “Renata,” the man said, still grinning. “Yes!” I replied, realizing our conversation would be in code. “Renata, Renata,” he repeated, looking at his wife, who was also smiling. Somehow, I understood they were asking, in Japanese, where I was from. “Barcelona,” I said, smiling. With their gestures, I gathered they were saying something like “very beautiful” before returning to “Renata, Renata,” adding something I interpreted as “she’s our friend.” We spent 20 minutes chatting in languages we didn’t understand, yet I remember it as one of the most pleasant conversations of my travels. The ride on that regional train was exquisite.

The arrival in Tôno by train is beautiful. Tôno feels like an enchanted city, where time pauses to let you savor every moment and corner of this unique place. Renata greeted me at the station. After warm welcomes and hugs with her and the couple who made my trip enjoyable, she explained who they were. The man was a retired member of the Tôno City Council, held in high regard. They welcomed me, hoping I would enjoy the city and not be too bothered by the kappas. At that moment, I still wasn’t clear on what those famous kappa were. I asked, and they patiently explained.

Kappa are mischievous and sometimes slightly malicious creatures from Japanese folklore. They are mythical beings usually found in rivers, lakes, and ponds, resembling small humanoids with turtle-like features: green skin, webbed feet, and a shell on their back. One distinctive characteristic is a cavity filled with water on top of their heads. According to legends, this cavity must remain full for the kappa to maintain their strength and energy. Kappa are known for behaviors ranging from harmless pranks to more dangerous actions. Despite their mischievous nature, they also have an honorable side. After all, they are magical beings living alongside us.

In Tôno, other mystical beings from local folklore are present, such as the Zashiki-warashi, child spirits that bring good luck to homes; Oni, powerful ogres that protect sacred places; Tengu, half-human, half-bird creatures that guard mountains; Yama-no-kami, mountain gods that control nature and protect hunters; and Rokurokubi, beings whose necks stretch at night, allowing their heads to move great distances. I had just entered a fantasy world.

During my days in Tôno, we visited Zen Buddhist temples, Shinto shrines, sacred mountains, artisans, the city museum, and various historical gems. I met many local citizens, shared meals and laughter with them, and even danced together. We also visited a hotel in the city for the possible accommodation of students in the Reiki master course and a traditional hotel amidst the mountains and rice fields. I fell in love with everything and everyone. The Reiki master classes would take place in the temples and shrines. The abbots welcomed us with deep gratitude. After classes, we would dine in various places: at the home of an artisan or Renata’s friend, in one of the many sacred mountains, and in restaurants everyone would remember. The afternoons would be dedicated to discovering their unique culture, folklore, and spirituality.

The entire city dedicated itself to ensuring that when I returned with students for the Reiki master course in Japan, they would truly discover the culture, spirituality, and magic of a Japan that many Japanese living in big cities, born too late, still don’t know. The warmth and kindness of the people of Tôno is unparalleled.

We celebrated the meeting, set a date for the following year, and I said goodbye with “see you soon” and many bows. I took the regional train again under a snowfall that heralded good omens. I returned to Barcelona with the feeling of having encountered something beyond what I could have ever imagined—a piece of Japan that many wish to visit and know but few can touch. I came home with the idea that Reiki in Japan is more than a course; it is a spiritual immersion experience in a place full of magic and mystery.

Months later, I returned with the first Reiki master students to Tôno. The experience we shared deserves a book, not a blog post. Perhaps someday I will be encouraged to write it. Who knows?

Jordi Ibern