Eerie nonsense or genuine cure?

In part three of our series on modern spirituality, The Scotsman's most crabbit columnist hobbles into the world of complementary therapy

IN AN open-fronted tent in Edinburgh's busy West End, a bearded gentleman with a mauve shawl round his shoulders sat with a glazed expression on his face. New Age music tinkled into the damp air and the aroma of burnt beeswax candles wafted from the little canvas temple and into the nostrils of curious – but wary – passers-by.

The shocking cameo portrayed above was only a small part of the overall picture at the capital's Festival of Spirituality and Peace, based around the trendy, greeny, touchy-feely St John's Church. You are not surprised. You say: "St John's? Isn't that the place where people dance naked in the graveyard?" Don't be absurd. "Well, don't the Tibetan-Nicaraguan-Iraq Liberation Front have their HQ there?" Nope. "Well, don't folk meditate and do other frightening stuff like that?" Up to a point, dear reader, up to a point.

But, ladies and gentlemen, the real bombshell news I have to offer you is this: the bearded gentleman alluded to above was … me. And, five minutes earlier, the aforementioned candles had been burning in my earlobes.

I will explain anon how I found myself in such a situation. But, first, I should tell you about the crutches. I was hobbling on them because of a sports-related injury. Watching Match of the Day, someone had tried to remove my pint of Guinness before it was finished. I lunged for it and tore a calf muscle.

So, I felt conspicuous on my crutches when I turned up at the Complementary Health Chill Out Zone, not that I was there hoping to get my gammy leg treated; that was purely coincidental, I was here merely to try some therapies generally. The programme offered various treatments and I'd envisaged a series of stalls. Instead, there was one tent, inside which sat Lorraine Allan, sole purveyor of all the treatments.

The former nurse has been involved in complementary (she doesn't like "alternative") therapy for 12 years. Alas, she's suspicious of the media after a previous encounter. I'm honest with her and explain that it's often my role to poke gentle fun, but I promise to be fair. I think she can tell I'm essentially harmless. She even calls me "spiritual" and says I've got good skin. That's enough of a bribe for me. I empty my jacket of mickey-taking pistols, satirical daggers and cynical coshes, and offer myself as a suitable case for treatment – of anything except my leg (the hospital didn't want anyone else touching it).

Lorraine offers Reiki, Indian heid massage, on-site massage, reflexology and Hopi ear treatment. I opt for the last-named, as it sounds the daftest. Lorraine explains that its origins lie with the Hopi Indians in South America. "It's thermo- auricular. It works like a chimney. The movement of the flame vibrates the air, generating a massage effect on the eardrum." I explain that the Lord has blessed me with tinnitus (noises in the ear) and she says: "It could be caused by pollution from the environment in Edinburgh. It could be dairy foods. I could go on about dairy for ever."

Neither of us has forever, so I get myself horizontal, as Lorraine prepares to go for the lugular. It's dreich outside, and I'm open to the titters of passers-by. But most seem only to pity me – damned handy these crutches. I close my eyes and a flashgun goes off. Neil the photographer has arrived. He's an old friend, but I enjoin him not to mention Hibs as I'm meant to relax and not get agitated. Lorraine asks him if he's been abroad. He confirms, and Lorraine explains she's a medium. I was tempted to say "And I'm an extra-large", but refrained.

The hollow candle was inserted expertly into my ear. I could hear it hissing and sparking away but, apart from that, couldn't feel anything happening. It was about 15 minutes in each ear, burning down to a red mark so the patient's heid doesn't go on fire.

The candlework was followed by Indian face and heid massage, which felt sensuous and relaxing (like being at the hairdresser, but without the fear), acupressure on my sinuses and eustachian tubes – ken? – and Reiki, a kind of laying-on of hands.

Lorraine told me I looked better – "Your pupils are now like two pinholes, so that's had a definite internal effect" – and, after wrapping my shoulders in the mauve shawl, went off to get me some water. With Neil gone, that's how I came to be sitting on my tod in the tent, which had a string of small, heart-shaped cushions hanging at the entrance, and walls draped with wispy, mauve-and-pink material. Also, there was a sign round my neck saying: "Hello, I'm a berk." Or there might as well have been.

When Lorraine returns, I'm up-front with my feelings about all complementary therapies. Of course, they work. You spend 30 quid or whatever to take an hour out of your busy schedule just to relax. Somebody pleasant puts on soft music and starts fiddling with your heid or your feet or whatever. How could it fail? Calling it Reiki or reflexology is just extraneous flummery, a mumbo-jumbo sauce.

But Lorraine insists Reiki has a physical, biological effect on the body. "There's been some sort of scientific analysis of it. It works with alpha, beta and gamma waves in the body. The touch itself is of benefit and involves a force which no one is 100 per cent sure of. It's called universal life energy. That's where Reiki comes from. It taps into a force and you channel the positive energy.

"There's a biological and physiological release going on. Reiki is connected with the endocrine system. It balances the chakras. You can say it's because people are just lying still for an hour, but generally they feel lighter. The meridians carry the chi and what we are doing is moving it around."

A touch defensively (understandably so), she adds: "We always need proof, you know? But does everything have to be so analytical? I am trying to promote good. I'm not selling drugs. I'm trying to promote something that people need and want."

Good points, well made. So how to sum up? I feel a responsibility, on the one hand, to report the treatments fairly; a duty, on the other, not to send readers limping up the garden path to quackery.

My own feeling is that massage as such works. Of course it does. How could it not? And when I say "works", I mean it relaxes the muscles, makes the blood flow through them and thereby induces a feeling of well-being, as does the plinky-plinky music and the incense. Reiki I'm less sure of. I'd need to try for it longer. Does energy really transfer from one person to another? Well, maybe.

As for Hopi ear candles, my jury's out – far out – and so I can't wax lyrical about them. I certainly didn't feel any worse for the experience but, unable to fully grasp the principle, I didn't get it in practice either. Perhaps you have to believe in it for it to work.

I believed it was time to go. Lorraine gave me a big hug. I wanted her to say: "Take up thy crutches and walk." But, wisely, she refrained, and I hobbled away from St John's, back into the hurly-burly, feeling a little better.

• The Chill Out Zone has a regular venue at Brodies Close, 304 Lawnmarket, Edinburgh, 12-6pm on Saturdays and Sundays

• TOMORROW: Scotland's Muslim women

Background

REIKI comes from the Japanese word meaning 'universal life energy' and is an increasingly popular method of alternative healing. Its fans, who include actress Nicole Kidman, say that it can heal physical, mental and emotional problems and that because it is not affiliated with any specific belief system, anyone may benefit from it.

Invented in Japan in 1922 by Dr Mikao Usui, who spent years studying ancient teachings on the subject, Reiki is usually described as a natural form of healing that aims to encourage the body's regenerative self-healing abilities. Patients lie on a couch while the Reiki practitioner holds their hands either above, or on, the patient's body, channelling 'healing energy' into the body and removing 'negative energy' from it. Although no scientific evidence has ever proved Reiki effective, many patients report physical or mental improvements afterwards, as well as feelings of relaxation and calmness.

In recent years Reiki has been used in NHS occupational health departments and mental health units, as well in drug rehabilitation centres, to treat those with special needs, and by HIV/AIDS charities. There are believed to be more than 2,000 Reiki practitioners in the UK.