Why I no longer call myself a ‘Reiki Master’
I don't know about you, but I have long struggled with the title "Reiki Master."
This blog shares part of my journey with Reiki—how I came into the practice, how I once related to the title of “Master,” and how that relationship transformed as my understanding of Reiki deepened.
I found Reiki, or perhaps Reiki found me, in my twenties.
I feel head over heels in love with it during my very first session. In that moment, I felt a darkness lift from me. Something shifted internally in a way I couldn’t yet describe or name. I felt grounded, balanced, and lighter. That feeling stayed with me long after the treatment ended.
Years later when I took my first Reiki Level I course, I could see the energy moving through my body.
I was enchanted.
I felt intuitively, almost from my first experience with it, that Reiki could help me resolve an inner dilemma I was carrying. I sensed that there was a deeper meaning and purpose to my life and that Reiki could help guide me toward it.
I quickly took all of the Reiki courses and by 2011, I was a Reiki MASTER!!!
I later came to understand that my title I had earned at that time was more accurately ‘Reiki Master Practitioner,’ one who has completed the Reiki Master Training. It would take me until 2014 to become a Reiki Master in the true sense of the word, when I guided two beautiful souls through the process of their Reiki Level III certification.
I love Reiki deeply with a great passion. Despite my connection to Reiki, the hours of practice and the accomplishments I had gained as a Reiki practitioner and teacher, I never loved the title Reiki Master.
It always felt off.
It wasn't until I began to learn the principles of decolonization that I could finally name the term didn't align with my values or my relationship with Reiki.
In 2020, I consciously chose to release the title altogether and no longer use the word “Master” to describe my work with Reiki.
This decision shifted how I relate to the practice—and to myself within it.
Let me elaborate on why I made this choice and how it has transformed my relationship with Reiki.
Keep reading to learn more.
The word ‘Master’ is an overly simplistic translation from Japanese to English.
Hawaya Takata and her teacher Chijiro Hayashi were likely the first to introduce the word Master to the system of Reiki, including it on the English translation of Takata Sensei’s Shinpiden training certificate.
When Hawayo Takata began teaching Reiki in the United States during the time of World War II, she was navigating a complex intersection of Japanese spiritual tradition and Western cultural expectations.
In Japanese, the word “shihan” (師範) is used for a teacher who has completed the highest level of training and is authorized to initiate others.
Shi (師) means “teacher” or “mentor,” and han (範) means “example” or “model.”
Therefore, a Reiki Shihan is a “model teacher,” someone who teaches by embodying the practice.
More than likely, she translated the Japanese word ‘shihan’ into ‘master’, because this term was commonly used in martial arts. English-speaking audiences associated “mastery” with a high level of skill or deep initiation, such as in master craftsman, master teacher or mastery in martial arts.
In Japanese Reiki traditions, Shihan is the term commonly used to describe those who attained the ability to instruct others. Dai Shihan means "senior instructor" and is adopted by some Japanese Reiki organizations to indicate the authority to intiate a Reiki teacher.
The titles of Dai Shihan (senior teacher who can teach Shinpiden), Shihan (teacher who can teach Shoden and Okuden) and Shihan Kaku (teacher assistant who can teach Shoden) are currently used in the Jikiden Reiki Kenkyukai and Usui Reiki Ryoho Gakkai [Foundations of Reiki Ryoho, Pearson].
In additional to Shihan, there are two other Japanese words that could potentially be used to describe the role of a Reiki teacher:
Sensei: an honorific title given to a teacher by students out of respect. Sensei might also refer to someone with a professional degree such as a lawyer, doctor or university professor.
Kyoju: ‘one who teaches’ and refers the function of teaching without any honorific status. [International House of Reiki Shinpiden Manual]
It would be inappropriate to use the word sensei as a self described term, such as Carrie Varela - Reiki Sensei, because the term sensei is how a student might respectfully address their teacher and not the other way around.
Through the lens of cultural authenticity, I would argue that a more appropriate English title for someone who has the capability to train others in Reiki is a "Reiki Teacher" not a "Reiki Master."
See below where I offer some suggestions for reframing your Reiki practice away from the word ‘master.’
Orientalism and Reiki
When Reiki came to the West in the mid-20th century, it entered a culture deeply influenced by Orientalist ideas. Western seekers were drawn to Reiki’s spiritually mysterious power but often misunderstood or repackaged it through Western hierarchies and language.
Orientalism is a Western way of viewing and portraying the East (the "Orient") as exotic, backward, and irrational, largely for the benefit of Western identity and power. Popularized by Edward Said, it is not just a neutral academic field but a system of power where the "Orient" is constructed to justify Western dominance and colonialism.
It's a biased and stereotypical representation that simplifies complex cultures, depicting them through an exoticized, hierarchical lens — often romanticizing their spirituality while stripping away cultural depth and context. It’s a form of colonial thinking that frames the “East” as mystical, ancient, or primitive in contrast to a “rational” and “advanced” West.
The word master — while translating loosely from Japanese titles like shihan — carries colonial, hierarchical, and patriarchal connotations in English that don’t accurately reflect the Japanese understanding of teaching relationships or spiritual attainment.
In Japan, the lineage of Reiki was traditionally seen as one of mutual respect, humility, and ongoing practice, not one of mastery or domination. The teacher’s role is one of guidance, not authority or ownership.
But in English, master evokes domination, hierarchy, and control — echoes of colonial and patriarchal systems. To continue using it without reflection risks reinforcing the same dynamics that distort and appropriate Eastern wisdom traditions.
The word ‘Master’ encourages hierarchy between teacher and student.
The word master implies a vertical relationship — one in which knowledge, authority, and power flow downward from someone who has “attained” mastery to those who have not. This dynamic can subtly create power dynamics between teacher and student, centering the teacher as the gatekeeper of wisdom rather than a companion on the path.
Reiki, at its essence, is not hierarchical. It is an energy that flows through and unites all beings equally. The teacher is not above the student, we are both participants in the same universal current. The role of a teacher in Reiki is to open the door, to hold space, and to empower their students to practice Reiki— not to claim ownership over Reiki or their student’s process.
In Bronwen Logan’s excellent blog “Am I a Reiki Master?” she states that “to be a Master implies mastery or superiority over others, which is not in line with the essence of being a Reiki teacher, where self-growth and balance are supported by a teacher rather than given to students.”
She elaborates that completing one’s ‘Masters’ in many Western cultures is typically referring to post-graduate academic study which may take years to complete. In contrast, Reiki Level III, sometimes called the ‘Master’ level, is usually transmitted over a weekend course rather than years of study.
This discrepancy can lead to exaggerating the depth of study and training that may be required to teach and initiate others on the path of Reiki.
Additionally, students may feel they are “less than” until they reach a certain level of certification or approval. Teachers, meanwhile, may internalize a sense of authority or control that distances them from humility and mutual learning.
I found by letting go of the word master, I began to dissolve the illusion of hierarchy. My ego unclenched, I didn’t feel constantly bombarded by imposter syndrome. I no longer felt forced into a stereotype that really didn’t fit my authentic experience of Reiki. It felt more safe to make mistakes, freed me from feeling I had to be right all the time and feeling like I had to have it all figured out, both for myself and for the clients I was supporting.
The word ‘Master’ creates fragility
The word master carries an illusion of attainment — as if one could ever truly “master” a spiritual practice. To identify as a master, there is a risk building our sense of self around an idea of completion, expertise, or superiority. This creates a subtle fragility, because the moment our knowledge is questioned or our confidence wavers, that identity begins to crack.
Instead of being lifelong student, the ‘master’ may feel pressure to always have the answers, to maintain an image of perfection, or to hold authority over others. The ego tightens around the title, and the spaciousness of true practice — curiosity, receptivity, surrender — begins to narrow.
Reiki, however, cannot be mastered. It is something we enter into relationship with. It moves through us, teaches us, and reveals itself over a lifetime. The deeper we go, the more we realize how little control we truly have — and how liberating that truth is.
When we release the need to be a master, we make room for something more authentic: humility, presence, and the courage to keep learning. In that openness, Reiki can flow through us more freely, unburdened by titles or roles.
The word “Master” cannot be fully distanced from the history of slavery— particularly in the United States.
As I apply principles of decolonization to my work, I have come to understand that context matters, and the language we use to name that context matters deeply. While it is often said that Reiki uses the term master differently than it has been used within systems of slavery, I question whether that separation can ever be complete.
In cultures built upon slavery and oppression, the word master has long been embedded in systems of domination—most notably the master/slave paradigm. That historical and cultural imprint does not disappear simply because we invoke the word in a spiritual or healing context.
When we use master in spiritual spaces, we may unconsciously bypass the reality that for many people—particularly those whose ancestors were enslaved—the word carries conscious or unconscious charge, pain, or exclusion. This is especially important to consider within a healing practice, where safety, accessibility and inclusivity are essential.
By unquestioningly continuing to use the term master within Reiki, we subtly communicate who this practice is for—and who it is not. The language can imprint notions of supremacy, superiority and hierarchy, even if that is not the intention of the practitioner or teacher. In doing so, it can exclude people who might otherwise feel drawn to Reiki.
This stands in contrast to the ethos of nearly every Reiki practitioner and teacher I know. We love this practice and genuinely want to share it with anyone who feels open to learning and receiving it.
I also believe that Reiki, as a spiritual practice, is a profound tool for healing the mind, body and spirit—and for reclaiming our true selves from the inherited impact of colonization, patriarchy, racism, gender conditioning, and other oppressive systems operating in the world.
If that is true, then we cannot bypass the language we have inherited from Reiki’s lineage without examining it.
Conclusions and Suggestions for a Path Forward
In the Japanese language, there is a notion of Kotodama (言霊) which implies that words and names possess mystical power, a "spirit of language" that can influence reality, objects, and people, with positive words bringing good fortune and negative ones causing harm. Rooted in Shinto, it suggests sounds have inherent power and being careful with one’s words are vital for healing, cursing or creating blessings.
Language shapes experience. If Reiki is truly a healing practice, then our words should reflect that truth.
For these reasons, I believe it is time to move away from the title “Reiki Master.” Doing so is not a rejection of the depth of the practice or the commitment of those who teach it. Rather, it is an invitation to adopt language that is more inclusive and more aligned with the spirit and energy of Reiki itself.
Here are some terms that can be used as alternatives:
Reiki Teacher
Reiki Practitioner and Teacher
Reiki Instructor
Reiki Facilitator
Reiki Guide
Reiki Lineage Holder
Senior Reiki Practitioner
Senior Reiki Teacher
Advanced Reiki Practitioner
Advance Reiki Teacher
Reiki Practitioner & Mentor
Reiki Steward
Reiki Educator
Reiki Guide & Teacher
Reiki Teacher & Lineage Holder
Reiki Practitioner, Teacher, and Mentor
Reiki Educator & Facilitator
Reiki Steward and Teacher
One of the tools I rely on in my application of decolonization principles is the understanding that I do not have to be perfect or always right.
Healing the fragility wound of mastership means allowing myself to be human—to acknowledge that there have been times when my intuition was wrong, or when I entered a situation without the clarity or integrity I believed I had.
When we release the need to be flawless, we make space for accountability. It becomes possible to apologize when we get it wrong, and to say “I’m sorry” without defensiveness or collapse. Healing fragility asks us to stay present rather than protective.
It also requires a willingness to change how we see things when new information is offered—to listen, to receive guidance, and to let ourselves be influenced. This is not weakness; it is maturity.
At the heart of this work is a commitment to seeing the divine in all people, including ourselves. From that place, growth becomes relational rather than performative and healing becomes possible.
Thank you for taking the time to read this blog and contemplate the topic.
May Reiki’s love and blessings unite us, not divide us.
With love and respect,
Carrie Varela
P.S. If you are interested in learning about decolonization and how it applies to the practice of Reiki, my next live offering of ‘Decolonize Your Reiki Practice’ is now available.
You might also be interested in two upcoming offerings of Shinpiden: Reiki Level III happening online and in-person.
Land Acknowledgement
Reiki Healing Society is based in Trinidad, California, the traditional land of the Tsurai, Yurok, Wiyot and Tolowa people. I offer respect to indigenous people and their leaders of the past, present and those emerging. I acknowledge the impacts of colonization which continues to this day. I am committed to deepening my understanding of First Nation's culture, history and actively supporting indigenous rights and sovereignty.
