When I was at school, I was often reading a book
instead of playing soccer. Or I sat in the corner of the playground and
watched the dust particles dancing in the sunlight. The playground was
not paved, it was of a dirt surface. Especially during the summer I
was watching the dirt particles vibrate in the sunlight. I enjoyed
looking at them. Or I looked at the clouds, how they crossed each
other, or penetrated each other. At that age it was unusual for a child
and that is why the professor from the institute said to my mother:
“Take it calm with him. Let him do; he is not dangerous, not to himself,
not to other people, because he is a genius.” This is literally what my
mother told me later, and she began to cry when she told me. Because it
was something extraordinary, like a meteorite or so. Unfortunately my
mother didn’t think of asking: “What is he a genius in?” They didn't
tell her that. Now I can think logically about it, and that was not a
genius in something specific, but more a multiplicity of things,
whatever that could be. After the war, when I went back to Hungary, I
tried to get the files of the institute that they made of me during the
years 1930-1931 through the mediation of my mother's doctor. He
inquired, but found that the part of the institute, that contained the
documents, burned down during the war, and nothing remained. It is a
pity, because I would have liked to know what they had written about me.
I am telling all this because of my initiation in the horse wagon at
night on our way to the market. I saw structures that were always in
movement, as transparent crystals, but finer as if they were made of
light, crystals that had become light. I saw a great number of
dimensions which were penetrating each other, and also the white light,
white on white. The intensity of the white light was so different! To
image this, take a milk bottle with narrow neck, and hold it upside down
until it flows out. This creates all kinds of white crystal structures
inside the bottle, like a honeycomb, like soap bubbles. Tamas Bacsi
showed us this and said: “This is what the universe looks like.” he
always said: “The universe is full of holes.” His vocabulary was limited
and didn't include mathematical structures. Tamas Bacsi has seen it
himself. He said: “Everything that is around you, the cow or your hand,
all of it is full of holes.” It is the multidimensionality of the
universe, in the sense that everything has structure and openings. He
showed it to us with the milk bottle too. He said: “Also look at the
air, and then you can see the holes. Then you can go through these holes
into another space, another existence.” Shamans were primitive
people, but they perceived the multidimensionality that science can only
suspect mathematically. They even went into it. The shamans found
that you can travel into it. That is the real travel. This was the same
as looking at the dust particles on the school yard. Tamas Bacsi used to
do this too. He would take a handful of dirt, threw it into the air by
which the dust particles vibrated in the sunlight. “Look,” he said.
“These little points you can see, are openings, and you can go through
these openings. .” This was a didactic example, but at the same time a
meditation. When you look at the air long enough, then you can see its
atom parts. That I have perceived myself for the first time in
1960-1961, thirty years later! I had been doing this exercise for many
years, but the perception only happened then. Thus, never let your
courage fail; spirituality is hard work. This happened in Belgium. I
was working in the city of Charleroi, in a metallurgy company where I
was supervisor of the blast furnaces. I was responsible for about 300
tons of iron ore. For this, I had gone to a technical school for two
years. One day I entered the control room, and suddenly I was seeing a
multitude of fine points in the air, microscopic little points. I was
seeing them so clear as if something had been removed from my eyes, and
suddenly I could see. The points were blue, green, orange, yellow and
red, actually the colors of the rainbow. There were two or three others
colors two among which was purple. I was thinking that it had to
come from somewhere, and I was looking for a colored window. I was
thinking about it in a very realistic way. I didn't find it, and when I
opened the door and looked outside, I was still seeing it. I went
outside, made a tour around the blast furnaces, went back inside, and
I was still seeing it. Then I went back outside again, and looked at the
sky and saw it in the sky too, not just in the room. Then it dawned to
me, as Tamas Bacsi had said: “look at the vibrating dust, in the sun
light, and then you will see the holes, the colored holes.” Thirty years
later I was seeing it, at a moment I was not expecting it, and under the
most profane circumstances. I am telling this to make clear what that
initiation was all about, the experience of the multidimensionality on
micro-cosmic and macro-cosmic level. In regard to this initiation I
had to mention something that happened years earlier, when I was about
five and a half years old. I was playing outside with the village
children, and we were making a lot of noise. A farmer had already warned
us a couple of times: “Don't make such a noise, my wife is sick in bed.”
Then we were quiet for a couple of minutes, but the noise started again,
because we played 'bandit'. The farmer had already warned us two or
three times, and each time he was more angry. Suddenly he appeared with
a big stick that was used to hold up the vine branches. With big force
he threw it at us and the stick hit my head. It was a heavy stick thrown
with a lot of force, and I immediately lost consciousness. I don't
remember what happened next, but my mother told me that I was between
life and death for weeks. The stick had hit me in such a way, that my
breathing has hindered and there was the risk of suffocation. The
function of breathing in the brain was not damaged but it didn't
function well. I had a severe concussion. I fell unconscious, and
during the entire time I was living in white light. I was traveling in
white light. These were the same elements I experienced during my
initiation, but this time I went though it. With my initiation I was
looking at it, from a distance. I wasn't going, I was just looking. When
I was unconscious, I went through it as through a white vapor. I felt
myself as vapor, and I received impressions of forces, as if I was
moving through electromagnetic fields. I really enjoyed it. I
experienced myself timeless, spaceless, and as consciousness. In other
words, I had another consciousness, a consciousness that was all
knowing. This is the way I experienced that. Later, my mother told me
that the village doctor was unable to help. He did not allow me to be
transported to the city, because at that time there were only horse
wagons and the constant bumping of the wagon on the road would have
killed me. The only thing my mother did was put ice packs on my head.
Only much later did I see the connection between the two events. It is
known that a concussion can bring you to another level of consciousness,
and the shamans used that in a deliberate way. Sometimes they hit their
skulls softly to create an expansion of consciousness. This is a
restructuring of the brain, the brain cells, and the neurons. Shamans
would never explain it like this, and he actually does not for sure what
happens, but he does know that something positive happens when he does
this. He knows the result. He hit his head with the back of his hand
at five spots on the skull: at the back, at the spot of the primal
brain, the little brain, then at the right temple, on the forehead, and
the left temple. Then he changes his hand. He spreads the five fingers,
bend them a little, and thus he hit the crown on the fontanel. Thus one
hits thirteen times, three times four plus one, and the thirteenth is
stronger. One hits so hard that one feels a slight tingling, and this
way one hits the five spots. Now I know that thirteen is the number
of the master, like the twelve apostles and the thirteenth is Jesus; or
the twelve signs of the zodiac and the thirteenth is the sun, the king.
That is in every culture. This points to the four elements, earth,
water, air, fire, and the three polarities, positive, negative and
neutral. Three times four is twelve plus the thirteenth which is life
itself that vivifies everything. This is the master who knows everything
and can act. Therefore thirteen is a holy number. The shaman provokes
these vibrations in his brain as a light concussion. That one always has
to do for oneself, because nobody else can feel how hard he can hit. It
also depends on the time of day. You have to feel that it hurts a little, but when the pain becomes sharper, like a burning ray, then you
have to stop immediately and wait for a couple of days in order to
prevent accidents. Tamas Bacsi warned us for that. He also showed us
what can happen when one exaggerates. In the village there was a
seventeen-year boy, the son of a bell maker. He had been studying with Tamas Bacsi in the past, and knew this method because he was born with a
caul. He thought that the Old One is doing it too slowly, he is old and
therefore he is way too careful. He started hitting harder, and when the
radiating pain came up he continued anyway, and he ended up with
irreversible brain damage. He began to stutter. When he was ten or
twelve years old. It was so terrible, and nothing could be done about
it. There was another person of about forty years old and married. He
also has been with Tamas Bacsi. He also has exaggerated and had become
temporarily blind. At a certain moment he didn't see anything anymore,
and nothing could be done about it either. Tamas Bacsi often said: “Look
at Peter and Balins, don't you exaggerate.” During that initiation I
was constantly in a sound state. Sound characterizes this
multidimensionality. The primal sound, which is a single sound that
consists of hundreds of sounds fused together. That happens when one
pays attention to the sound. The composer Robert Schumann expressed it
this way: “The air is full of music.” That I have experienced, and I am
convinced that Tamas Bacsi intentionally caused this to happen in me. I
don't know how he did this. He sang monotone guttural sounds, that was
it. He didn't give anything special to drink. I remember that at a
certain moment he called me: “Josika. Josika.” which is a diminutive of
Joska. I slowly opened my eyes, and saw some faint stars in the sky. It
was dawn already but some faint stars were still visible. It was as if I
came back from the stars. I had the feeling that I just had been born.
Later I understood that this is the prenatal state. The embryo is still
connected by two-thirds with the multidimensionality, but when the heart
forms and starts beating, it loses another third. The embryo becomes
more human, more material. When the child is born he loses the
connection completely. You can find it back as a memory, but the
direct contact is gone. That has to be restored. It is important to
experience the prenatal state again, not just the impulses one gets from
the mother's body, but entirely different thought structures. Then one
experiences the sphericity, the metaphysical condition. You don't have
to believe that. I don't believe it, I am convinced of it. I have
experienced it. That was the meaning of that initiation. It all felt so
unreal; my body felt so strange. In comparison to what I had
experienced, my body felt almost lifeless and rigid. This journey
with Tamas Bacsi is the most marked memory in relation to him. I
remember that they were holding a secret meeting in a big tent. These
were the wise men, the tudos emberek. Some of them were from
Transylvania, the ancient Hungary, others were from Bulgaria and from
Bosnia. These were the Bogomils. Now, when I see images of Bogomils,
they remind me of the men who were there. They had come by foot with
their herds to the fair, and had walked hundreds of kilometers. There
was also an old gypsy. They met inside a tent, eight men, of which
the youngest was forty years old, but there were also boys of twelve and
fourteen years old, their students. They didn't know each others'
language, and Tamas Bacsi only spoke Hungarian. When he made it clear
that they wanted to continue their journey, Tamas Bacsi took a string
out of his pocket and tied it to his fingers. It was like the string
game that children play. He made a certain form, and showed with his
fingers three spots on the strings, and this way he showed them the
shortest route. This was not the main road, but little side roads, and
they understood that. They used the string game to find their way in
space. I also remember that my grandfather had a deaf servant who has
very strong, like a bull. He was a hard worker, but he didn't like to
work on the fields with the other people. Therefore my grandfather sent
him to work on remote fields or vineyards, so he could work alone. My
grandfather also use the string game to show him where to go work, and
he understood that. The string game was very practical and there are
tens of thousands of forms. At the end of last century they said that an
anthropologist is characterized by a string in his pocket, because at
that time it was fashion to collect as many forms of the string game as
possible. This way they tried to find the original culture from where it
came, but of course, they didn't find it. In any case, there are
thousands of forms everywhere, from the Atlantic ocean to Alaska. In
Stockholm there is a large collection of string forms which were used by
the Eskimos. They used to think it was just a game to pass time, but it
was also used for other purposes, to find one's position in space.
It was also used as a mnemonic technique, to remember the heritage of
people, gods or spirits. In the area of the Pacific, boys needed to
remember by heart the names of all ancestors, sometimes about twenty,
thirty generations. Not only their names but also what they had done.
They learned this by means of the string game. The mathematical and
abstract tattoos and paintings, like in Africa, are nothing else but
mnemonic techniques. When one knew more about their ancestors, one also
profited from their powers, from their genetic past. In shamanism they
also honor their ancestors, they knew their names and called upon them
for consultation. But there is a third element that they haven't
studied yet: the structure of thought. Because the forms of the strings
are thought structures, like yantras in the Indian culture. One made a
certain figure and then one looked at it. They didn't know what it
meant, and they looked at it until images came up, and then they knew
what it was. They were thinking in a whole different way, and they could
make travels, they could experience the prenatal condition. In their
thoughts they could liberate themselves from time and space. By this
game one can restructure the neurons in the brain. We know that the
environment changes our state of mind, but the reverse is true too. Our
state of mind changes our environment. Our brain also changes, as does
our way of thinking. From that meeting I remember that they were
sitting together, drank some wine and sang. That was just regular red
wine, and they smoked pipe. What was in the pipe I don't know. Maybe
aromatic herbs, because they were always present in the tobacco for
pipe. I suspect they might have exchanged some plants and mushrooms. I
remember a real big mountain person who had made a tobacco bag from cat
skin. That was soft skin. At a certain moment, he was looking for
something at the bottom of the bag, removed it and held it up. I
couldn't see it well enough to know what it was because all those other
men were around him looking at it. They were sitting in a circle and
sang guttural sounds. I don't remember how long that lasted because at a
certain moment I fell asleep. I had drunk one glass of wine, to which I
had the right to drink, and then I fell asleep. The others drank more of
course. From all the children, who were twelve, thirteen years old, I
was the youngest. I remember that I was suddenly awakened and they said:
“Come we are going back.” It was already evening when we returned. We
took the entire night to get home. They were singing for two reasons:
for themselves and for the others, the world. Now I know that the sound
can have a magical and mystical, but also a practical purpose. They sang
themselves into a special state of mind. If they used herbs or mushrooms
for this purpose I don't know. I did see that they did something
secretly, that we, boys, were not allowed to see. The singing brought
them into a special state of mind; that was the most important ritual.
In regard to the use of consciousness expanding means, another memory
surfaces. I am seeing the old cemetery, the protestant cemetery, with
the totem poles. The Hungarian protestants used the ancient pagan totem
poles. Because the Catholics had crosses, the protestants wanted to
distinguish themselves from the Catholics by using the ancient totem
poles of the pagan religion on their graves. Actually these are the
guardian spirits of the deceased, or sometimes the deceased themselves.
One day I was walking with him at the more than two hundred year old
cemetery, when from the other side a gypsy was approaches us. In Hungary
there two kinds of gypsies: some of them have a permanent residence in
the cities, and the others travel around and trade in horses, while
their wives are fortune-tellers. I still can see the gypsy before me. He
was wearing a black wide hat, those were traveling gypsies, the Romani.
He was speaking a little Hungarian, and he was looking for Tamas
Bacsi. Somebody must have sent him here and given him a description of
Tamas Bacsi. When he arrived at the cemetery he recognized him
immediately, and asked him if he was Tamas Bacsi. He said that he had
some herbs from the mountains. He had a pouch which he opened and he
showed the contents to Tamas to smell. Tamas took it into his hand,
smelled it and said: ”Yes, these are the real herbs, these are good.” The
gypsy wanted to sell it to him, and I remember that he was really
persistent. Tamas Bacsi always smoked pipe, but when didn't smoke, he
was chewing tobacco. When the gypsy persisted, Tamas said that he
despised anyone who was using these herbs to enter into an expansion of
consciousness because “Those people are too lazy to work on themselves.
They resort to artificial means instead of taking the time and effort.
Thus they are lazy. They are not worthy, because they want to reap
without making an effort.” he turned his head and spit out his chewing
tobacco as a sign of contempt. He didn't want to have anything to do
with it. But after a little pause he gave him the name of another person
and said: “Go to him.” Tamas himself never used it. I have had
several initiations. Actually they were more like tests to see what
abilities I had and to what extent.
When I was twelve years old, I was staying for a
summer vacation in Solt. On a warm day of July, Tamas Bacsi told me to
go to a pond. Near the village were several ponds, the result of clay
dug up to construct houses. The ponds were about a hundred meters wide
and three hundred meters long. The depth depended on the rain fall and
the season. He told me: “Go to the pond Kopoia.” The word kopoja
stems from the Hungarian Koponya, which is the popular expression for a
skull. The pond had more or less the form of a skull. I had to go to
that pond and find him a horse skull, and bring it to him. I asked
him where exactly I would find it. The water was not that deep, but when
you went in it, you sank into the mud up to your knees, and the water
became muddied. He said that I had to find that out for myself. He did
say to go stand in the middle of the pond and to enter into contact with
the water and feel that way where the skull was. I did that, but every
time I moved the water turned gray, and I couldn't use my ordinary
senses. I let myself be guided by my feelings. I found an old bucket
deep in the mud. Like a radar I was being attracted by objects. The
strange thing was that I first was attracted to iron objects. Then I
found a reed basket, that was a little more alive. I tried to stand
still to let the mud settle, so I could something that looked like a
skull in a little more clear water. Suddenly I felt I had to go
to the left, and I tried to concentrate on the object, in order for
grabbing it in one swoop, because I couldn't go through the all the mud
at the bottom. I reached down and I felt something sharp, and when I
pulled I felt that it was buried deep in the mud. The horse skull must
have been there for many years, because it was sticking out of the mud
for only two fingers. All that searching lasted for about forty
minutes. I proudly brought the skull to Tamas Bacsi. He was under a
tree, and I put the skull in front of his feet. The only thing he said
was “mmmm” Later he told me that it was a test to see if I could get
into contact with objects. It was part of a series of happenings that
comprised my initiation. At that time I became aware that I had
abilities that actually I always had, and which a lot of people
have. Looking for that skull was a means to waken my ability, and to
actually do it, by thinking at what I was looking for and by this making
contact with the object. You can also see that with collectors who
often find something that has value to them in an unexpected way. Also,
most famous antiquarians know that they have a lucky hand in buying or
selling. These abilities are present in man, and in shamanism they are
called upon for specific purposes. In my case it was also a totem
animal, the horse. Even in the 11th and 12th century shaman were still
offering white horses, and the Hungarian king Stephan the Holy One made
an end to the practice with great effort. The skull of a horse was an
archetypical image for the entire popular culture which held a shamanic
tradition. In the same period, my teacher send me to find a red
brick at the east side of a hill about four kilometers from our village.
In the course of history there was a watch tower on the hill, and in the
16th century the Turks had built a fort, that had been leveled
afterward, and the farmers now had their fields there. From time to time
they unearthed bricks or pieces of iron. These were red or white bricks.
The white bricks were from the time of the Romans who also had a fort
over there. I had to find a red brick, and not a small piece. A big
piece, a half or a whole brick, probably because the Turks were also a
shamanistic people who were related to the Hungarians. I went to
look for it, and it wasn't easy to find a brick with all the bushes
around. Within an hour I found a good piece, a half brick, and I brought
it to him. As usual he only said: “mmmm”, by way of acceptance. Now I
know that the purpose was to attune myself to the connection with the
Turkish people, and this allowed me to experience my ability to do this.
It also strengthened my self-confidence, and my self-respect that I was
able to succeed in such a task. Another time, in the same year, Tamas
Bacsi told me: “Tonight you are going to sleep in the cemetery with the
other children.” It was a warm evening in August, and the sun was
setting. That night the moon was full. First I thought that it was a
joke, and I told him that my grandparents were expecting me that
evening. He said: “It doesn't matter, I will tell them that you are gone
somewhere.” That was the more than one hundred year old cemetery of
the Catholics. Two thirds of the village was protestant, and one third
was Catholic. He said: “Go to the oldest part of the cemetery, and find
a place that you like or that attracts you, or that you fear; one or
both. Go sleep there, and in the morning at sunrise you come to me end
tell me what you have dreamed or experienced. Don't be afraid of ghosts
or phantoms, because they do not exist. But in case you meet anybody, a
spirit or phantom, then ask him nicely what he wants, and how you can
serve him. That is the best way to please these rising spirits.” I
knew the cemetery well, because it wouldn't have been the first time
that I was there. Being a child, we often played hide-and-seek in that
place, and I knew all kinds of pleasant and less pleasant spots. There
was a grave of an old woman, a certain Barbara, that always spooked me;
also a grave of a young countess who had died when she was 8 or 10 years
old. There was pyramid shaped grave that you also find in England from
the previous century, that I liked. But I always felt connected with the
girl, and sometimes I imagined what she looked like. That spot was
attractive to me, to spend the night. Next to the grave was a wooden
bell tower, with one bell in it. Sometimes we played with the bell,
until the guard showed up telling us that we could not do this, because
the bell could only be run when there was burial ceremony. That bell
also attracted me, and I made a connection between the girl and the
bell. Tamas Bacsi gave me three big pears. “To grab onto something.”
So, I went over there, accompanied by three boys and a girl, having a
horse blanket under my arm. First I sat at the grave of Barbara, but I
didn't feel well over there. I continued to have the feeling to be
sucked into the depths of a swamp. After a while I went to the grave of
the young countess, and there I fell asleep. From time to time I woke up
from strange dreams of a heavy thunderstorm. The clouds in my dream were
as two fighting bulls causing thunder and lightning, as it is told in
Hungarian tales. However, when I suddenly woke up, I was seeing the
stars and a full moon. At that time I didn't know that the bull also is
a totem animal with shamans. When two shamans are fighting for their
privileges, they would fight each other dressed as wild horses or as
bulls. An ancient Hungarian saying even talks about 'bull heads of the
shamans' when it thunders. I went back to sleep, and then 'white'
dreams followed, just like I had when I went to the fair with Tamas
Bacsi, and I fell asleep in the horse wagon. Now I dreamed that I was
enclosed by glass, crystal or ice, and I became more and more quiet
inside. The glass actually was ice, and it became more and more heavy
and dense. When I thought I would suffocate I was hearing the unnatural
high sounds of the ringing of bells. The ice broke, and I was seeing the
white dimensions that strongly attracted me. I was fearful to lose
myself in the maelstrom of endless white dimensions of different nuances
which flowed one into the other, and which came to me from all
directions. They moved in the direction of a light which was even more
bright and white, as a hole into which all the white dimensions
disappeared. My inner voice said not to go any further. Thus, I stayed
at the edge of the maelstrom, and I did not go any further. This was
my second dream that night, and it didn't wake me up. I continued to
sleep until Tamnas Bacsi woke me up. It was an hour after sunrise, and
we went together to his house, where I got to drink a glass of brandy,
the Hungarian brandy made of apricots, Palinka, and he asked what we had
experienced. I told him about my fear with the grave of the old
woman, and he did his usual “mmmm”. About my first dream he told me that
I had seen my shamanic ancestors fighting, and that they both were
fighting to become my master. Because it wasn't clear who the winner
was, I had to choose one myself. Both shamans were favoring me, but one
of them had to show his superiority as master. Much later, I had to
think about this dream, especially during the bombardments in Germany,
where I was forced to work. It always gave me a feeling of trust, that I
would be rescued by one of the shamans. Bombs were falling all around
us, but we were spared in a concrete cell, thirty of us. I don't
know how much I should attribute to the power of these
archetypical images. Maybe these electromagnetic force fields protected
me, I don't know. I do know that there is a lot that you can influence
with your thoughts. In any case, Tamas Bacsi told me that one of the
shamans came from the north and the other one from the South. One
symbolized water, the other fire. I am a Sagittarius, a fire sign, and
my ascendent is Cancer, a water sign. That corresponds with my dream;
the fighting and the union of opposing polarities. About my second
dream, he told me that it was the shamans who prevented me from
disappearing into the white hole. He said that I always had to watch out
that I wouldn't end up in the maelstrom. “You can observe it, but don't
go any further than the edge of the maelstrom.” The painter Melwitch
said, when he had made his white painting, “here we cannot go any
further, because here begins another dimension.” In the same way,
science has progressed so far in observing the smallest particles of
matter that the energy of matter cannot be separated from one's own
thoughts. The white light is the energy where you have to arrive. In
shamanism it is called the crystal consciousness. These three
events, the searching for the skull of a horse, the red brick, and the
sleeping on the cemetery, were part of my initiation in order for me to
be more conscious and to experience more knowledge later on. This is
also the meaning of a master, to show the direction that fits with the
personality of the student, and to bring his hidden talents to
development, in service of the spirit. One day, I was walking through
the fields with Tamas Bacsi, and suddenly he found the bottom of a wine
bottle on the ground. He said: “I use this to see.” he told me that when
he looked at the hollow side he could see in the past, and he could look
inside himself or the other person, and when he looked at the other
upwards curved side he could see into the future. What really marked
him was that he always used ordinary, easy to get objects; and he also
used simple thoughts and concepts to express complicated things.
Something he gave was that piece of glass to us and said: “Tell me what
you are seeing. Not what you think, but what you are seeing.” I
remember that I was seeing several shadow figures blending into each
other. Then I had to turn it and do the same. I said that I didn't
see anything but the reflecting light. He told me to concentrate on
this. He didn't explain it to me. I had to experience it myself and
'digest' that experience.
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