Don’t get me wrong, symbols (in all their varied forms) represent one of the most wonderful methods for bypassing the conscious mind. They slip right past the silly, analytical left-brain that constantly needs to assign logic and meaning to our experiences.

Symbols speak the language of the soul. Their vastness stems from both collective and individual definitions. Crystals, for example, are a collective symbol. Human history has assigned them specific characteristics based on repeated experiential feedback. Collective repetition has created a reinforced relationship to their meaning.

This mechanism applies to Reiki symbols, esoteric orders, and religious iconography. Each framework teaches how a symbol "sits" within the body after integrating its meaning over a period of time.

Symbols are highly valuable tools. They act as focal points, cues to shift your state, or reminders of something vast that requires very little conscious explanation. They bypass the noise and hit straight into the subconscious.

But there is a trap.

The issue arises when symbols become a crutch for the experience itself.

It happens when you develop a narrative (an identity layer) that dictates you need a specific crystal or symbol to achieve a specific state. The moment you believe you need something outside of yourself, you imply that you are lacking. You give away your power, assuming an external key is required to unlock something that is already internally present.

You can observe this in practitioners draped in an abundance of crystals, desperately trying to portray a calm and centred state. But if you have 1,000 symbols expressed over your physical vessel, how can your subconscious define the meaning? You are sending 1,000 different messages at once.

It isn't spiritual, it's just noisy.

I have an intimate, experiential relationship with symbols. Upon my spiritual awakening in April 2025, I felt an instant resonance with crystals. I immediately purchased a set I had researched, looking for symbolic anchors to support my desired qualities of calm and balance, as well as stones that represented my natal chart to support my authenticity.

Being a Taurus, that meant emeralds, jade, black obsidian, and shungite. I also bought moonstone and amethyst to symbolically enhance my psychic experience. I had just been introduced to the subtle, ever-present undertone of reality (the Nadam). Those two crystals made the frequency "sing" louder, allowing my conscious mind to hear it clearly.

Over the following months of navigating life through new eyes, awoken to the illusions presented by reality, I was introduced to Reiki. With it came an essential lesson in attachment.

My first teacher recommended practicing without the traditional symbols. For periods, I did. Then I introduced them back. Then I removed them again. Through these formative experiences, I naturally started holding fewer crystals and using fewer external cues. I realised that the gift these tools present is inherently within us.

For me, symbols acted as teachers. And a true teacher is one you must eventually detach from to master the lesson. As my first Reiki teacher passed down from her own mentor, “The symbols are just training wheels”. Through literal trials of experience after acquiring my Level 2 certification, this proved true. Sending Reiki with symbols versus sending it without them demonstrated the exact same, if not a more potent, outcome for the recipient. Dropping the symbols freed my inner dialogue. I no longer had to remember a specific shape to guide the energy that already surrounds all things.