October 13, 2026
Reiki
Reiju: What We Know and What We Don’t Know
What Reiju means, how its transmission has evolved, and what we can —and cannot— say about its history, its effects and lineage in Reiki.
Sometimes, life offers us stories that seem like they have emerged from a dream, tales that move along the boundary between the visible and the invisible, inviting us to pause, to listen, and to remember that not everything can be explained. One of these stories recently came from the Argentine actor Luciano Cáceres, during his appearance on the program Otro Día Perdido, hosted by Mario Pergolini.
The television encounter, beyond the usual questions and answers, turned into an intimate narrative about life, death, and mystery. Cáceres spoke about his mother, his connection with Reiki, and a series of experiences that marked both his personal and professional life. What he shared is not simply a testimony: it is a reminder of what escapes reason, yet when it happens, touches us with the force of the sacred.
Luciano Cáceres is a renowned Argentine actor of theater, film, and television. With a solid and varied career, he has played roles in very different productions, granting him a constant presence in his country’s artistic scene. However, on Otro Día Perdido, he did not speak of scripts or stages, but of something far deeper: his inner life and the spiritual legacy his mother left him.
The program hosted by Mario Pergolini has become a space where artists, thinkers, and personalities share their worldview, far from conventional interviews. In this case, Pergolini gave Cáceres the opportunity to recount an essential chapter of his biography: his mother’s illness, her farewell, and her transcendence.
Cáceres’s mother faced cancer for many years, undergoing various medical treatments. However, in the final stage of her life, she made a decision that would change the course of her experience: she abandoned conventional medicine and devoted herself to alternative therapies, especially Reiki.
The actor recounted that, at first, he accompanied her on this path, but there were also moments of deep frustration. When his mother fell into a coma, he called the Reiki practitioner in desperation, demanding that she do something. The therapist could not come because she was on a spiritual retreat. Cáceres, hurt and angry, felt that Reiki had failed him.
And yet, against all logic, his mother awakened from the coma. Although she could no longer speak, he felt he could hear her. In the midst of that fragility, a new dimension opened up for both of them.
In one of the most moving episodes of the interview, Cáceres recalled an unexpected gesture from his mother. One day, they found her sitting with her hand extended in the air. When asked what she was doing, she replied naturally:
—“I am holding my angel. He is a very tall, very white man, about fifty years old. His name is Love.”
This seemingly simple moment carries enormous poetic and spiritual power. On the verge of death, his mother did not speak of pain or loss, but of an angel named Love.
In the last week of her life, a Reiki practitioner was finally able to attend her. The outcome, however, was inevitable. Then something happened that Cáceres recounted with emotion: between anger and desperation, he himself approached his mother, placed his hands on her legs, and felt an immediate reaction. She moved her legs, opened her eyes, and he said:
—“Hold on tight to your angel.”
Moments later, his mother passed away.
This simple yet profound gesture is perhaps the best expression of what Reiki means: being present, offering our hands, trusting that life energy flows, and that, in the invisible, something aligns.
After his mother’s passing, Cáceres scattered her ashes in Villa Gesell, a place full of family memories. There, while walking along the beach, the sea offered him an unexpected gift: a wave deposited a rosary at his feet.
The actor kept it with the intimate certainty that it was a gift from the sea. Seventeen years later, this rosary would reappear in his life in a surprising way.
Time passed. Seventeen years later, during a film shoot, Cáceres suffered an accident. A friend suggested visiting a Reiki practitioner. There, after the session, the practitioner said:
—“I have a message for you. Your mother made a great effort for this rosary to reach your feet.”
Luciano could only acknowledge the weight of that mystery. Since then, he has carried that rosary with him, a symbol of a connection that transcends time and logic.
Those who approach Reiki with a purely rational perspective may feel bewildered, even skeptical, before stories like this. However, for those of us who have practiced and accompanied others over the years, these stories are not strange, although they are profound and magical.
Reiki places us in a space where reason is not enough. It is an experience revealed in silences, in minimal gestures, in sensations impossible to describe in words. It teaches us that our understanding is limited, that our ignorance is vast, and paradoxically, that within it resides a form of wisdom.
Cáceres’s case is a luminous example of this: moments of anger, doubt, miracle, and love. Reiki does not appear as a magical solution that “cures” in the medical sense, but as a language of life itself, expressed in relationships, farewells, and unexpected gifts.
Perhaps the greatest lesson this testimony offers is the acceptance of not knowing. That Reiki cannot be reduced to techniques or explanations. That it is, in essence, a mystery. And that love dwells within that mystery.
When Cáceres’s mother spoke of an angel named Love, perhaps she was reminding us that Reiki—and life itself—is above all a movement toward trust. It invites us to recognize what we do not know while embracing the certainty that we are never alone.
The story of Luciano Cáceres, his mother, and Reiki is not a manual of answers. It is a living narrative, full of symbols and personal truth. It speaks of what it means to accompany a loved one in their passing, of what remains when everything seems lost, and of the way the invisible makes its way through our certainties.
At Kisetsu, Reiki & Meditation School, we believe these testimonies are valuable because they remind us of the essential: Reiki is not something that can be fully explained. It is something to be lived, to be felt, and over time, it becomes a path of humility, love, and mystery.
Luciano Cáceres has gifted us, unintentionally, a story that speaks as much about him as about all of us: of that mixture of pain and wonder, of ignorance and gratitude, of the inexplicable that sustains us.
And perhaps, in that “I don’t know, believe or bust” with which he concluded his account, we find the most honest way to speak of Reiki: an invitation to open the heart, even when the mind does not understand.
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