On the Tender Practice of Non-Attachment

There’s a quiet ache I sit with in this moment. The one that creeps in suddenly out of no where asking for attention. The kind that whispers through the heart for those that once felt like kindreds, now have completed their Reiki journey with me to walk their own paths.

I watch them leave with grace, with growth, with light and joy…
And still, a part of me aches.

Not because they’ve outgrown the training.
But because what felt like friendship—connection, sisterhood, soul-knowing—suddenly feels a little distance.

Where once we shared stories, now there's comparison.
In some connections, a subtle tension, a quiet edge of competition.
Where I once was “safe,” I am now something to measure against.

And I sit today as this feeling of loss sweeps over me suddenly. Did I do something wrong, I wonder?
But, maybe that’s the script that needs flipping here.
Maybe, I did it just right, like seeing the baby bird fly from the nest the last time. 

 I tend to feel things so deeply—this pull to want to be seen not only as a teacher, but as a friend.
As someone who gave with genuine joy, not out of obligation, but gratitude to share what I love.
And sometimes there’s sadness to realize I may have been a stepping stone, while I thought we were walking side by side.

This is the tender practise of non-attachment.
The soul’s gentle reminder that not everyone who walks with us stays.
Not every connection is meant to grow roots.

Still, I hold space for it all.
For the gratitude. For the joy. For the love. For the connection.
For the beauty of being part of their becoming even if I’m no longer part of the story.

Non-attachment isn’t the absence of connection.
It’s the deep trust that connection doesn't need to cling in order to be real.
It’s the sacred art of releasing with grace, even when there’s a sadness as it passes through.