Firewalking From the Inside

BY

ARII-PEU TAMA-ITI

(CHARLES W. KENN)

Ordained and Initiate Firewalker

A report on four firewalking performances in Honolulu, and a critical study of them from the point of view of the initiate firewalker instead of that of the onlooker.


Tradition and Initiation

Having stated the conclusions reached at the end of these tests, the next step is to move on to the far more important business of trying to learn something of the possible nature of the psychological or other factors which upset the usual "law of physics" and give fire-immunity. The rite of firewalking did not form a part of the older Polynesian culture. It was introduced about a hundred years ago from Fiji, and spread to many of the South Sea Islands.

It appeared in Huahine, the Chief's island, around 1850, and at about the same time began to be reported from Taha's and Raiatea, the Cook Islands, Fiji and New Zealand. The ritual in various forms was already known in Japan, Malay lands, China, Tibet, India and elsewhere. Fire-immunity was also known in the Americas.

While the firewalk was often made across burning coals in other lands, it was made across heated stones in the South Seas. This was natural because it was the native practice to cook food in underground ovens, the cooking heat being supplied by rocks heated in advance in pits. Such rocks furnished a simple firewalking surface at any time a feast was to be prepared, and could have been used for the rite before being placed in the ground oven or imu to cook the food.

In Hawaii, in the neighborhood of the active volcanoes, firewalking was done on lava overflows when they had hardened sufficiently to bear a man's weight. The records of this type of firewalk are scattered and it can only be supposed that the date of 1850 may apply to Hawaii's introduction to the rite as it does in a general way to other parts of Polynesia.

One thing is clearly seen, and that is that the native priests or na kahuna of Polynesia must have been so well grounded in matters of psychological magic that they accepted with ease the variations found in firewalking.

From such writings as are available touching the rituals in question, it is to be seen that their purpose was accepted along with the theory and practice. In the lands of origin the rite had been used to provide or to give proof of, "purity" or "purification" in the religious sense. It was supposed to bring clairvoyance and clairaudience so that the fate of lost voyagers might be learned, lost articles recovered etc. It was a thanksgiving ceremony. It called down a blessing on crops and people and animals. It brought rain. It replenished the fish in waters nearby. In India one firewalked to fulfill a vow when prayers had been answered. It was supposed to cure sterility. In Japan it was used as a healing ritual for various forms of sickness. In Polynesia it was used more or less for the same purposes, but as an additional rite and not to replace older rites already in use. The Polynesian was and is most adaptable. He accepted western civilization in a generation. Everything is grist in his mill, and his flexible mind quickly grasps and puts to use new ideas. Once a set of ideas has been accepted, it is fitted neatly in with other ideas already a part of the scheme of things, and soon takes on the aspect of having been a part of the older systems for centuries back.

In this process of adopting the new beliefs and practices, slight changes are made. Words are changed, invocations made over into the more familiar tongue, and the names of the foreign gods replaced by the Polynesian counterparts.

While some parts of the transition are missing, the picture as a whole is fairly clear, providing one understands the culture of the Polynesians which forms the background for the picture. 

It seems to have been a simple matter for the firewalking rite to become a part of the old Polynesian beliefs. The people of each locality were united in one set of beliefs. They were of the same blood, had the same cultural background, and were conditioned to the same general pattern of behavior. When those whose duty it was to act as priests saw fit to accept firewalking, all accepted it as a matter of course.

The priests (called na kahuna in Hawaii, but with variations in the pronunciation of the word in the other Polynesian dialects) all belonged to the priestly families, as the chiefs did to ruling families. It was natural, therefore, that the priests who took up the new rite should count it as more or less a family possession, and should guard its secrets with the other secrets of their religious beliefs. In a short time the new rite was being handed down from parent to child in the same way as other rites.

Firewalking was handed down to the eldest son, or lacking a son, to one consecrated as a blood son(hoolaa) for that purpose.

In the case of Tu-nui Arii-peu, he is a descendant of the original firewalker in his part of Polynesia, a priest whose name was Mae-haa, who passed on the prayers and secrets to his son, Ma-oa, and who in turn consecrated his son, Papa-Ita, from whom it was passed on to Afaitaata, then to Arii-peu, the present firewalker. There is now only one other Tahitian firewalker, Arii-pao who resides in Raiatea. Arii-peu is the fifth generation in his family, and is able to fire walk, offer immunity to those whom he permits to follow him, and to pass on the secret to his successor, who then becomes the sixth generation.

From this it will be seen, that it was no easy matter for me to approach Tu-nui Arii-peu with my questions. He had come to Honolulu on a business errand, not a social one. He wished to perform his self-appointed task of raising money by giving firewalking performances in order to send home stranded young Tahitians, and then to return home himself. He had no slightest desire to make converts to the contrary. In fact, although he had retained the ancient lore of his people to a large extent, he had more or less accepted Protestantism, and in deference to a real or fancied command derived from that religion, he no longer performed the firewalk at night–only by day. (Although night performances were urged by those who pointed out the fact that more people could come out in the evening, and that the fire pit would then show red, he steadfastly held to his refusal.)

The advertising of the firewalking, and of the native Tahitian dancing on the program, was poor. The attendance was also poor. This gave me an opportunity to press my offers of assistance, without remuneration, in such matters. I wrote articles for the papers and, helped in various ways with the publicity. The chief quickly lost his suspicion of me as a pressing stranger, and accepted me as a friend. But to be a friend, even a very close friend, was one thing. To be told the secrets surrounding the firewalking rites was something else again. My every effort to learn of the ritual and the prayers was met with polite but firm silence. My help and my friendship were most appreciated. I was warmly assured of that, but to let me into the secrets of

the firewalking cult was out of the question. In the first place I was not a son, not even a blood relative. In the second place, if I, a stranger, were to be given the secrets, there was no telling what disasters might be visited on the islands to the south as a consequence.

For a time it appeared that I would have to make the usual tests for temperature of the stones, write the usual impotent report, and content myself by standing on the pier and waving when the Chief sailed for home.

As luck would have it, however, in searching through a very considerable amount of accumulated and uncatalogued material on matters dealing with early beliefs and customs in Polynesia, I was able to unearth a rare article in an old copy of the JOURNAL OF THE POLYNESIAN SOCIETY, and in this article find a translation of the prayers used in the firewalking ritual. An early missionary who had lived in Tahitian parts had managed to get the material. He had set it down in the native tongue. It had later been translated by a Miss Teuira Henry, and her translation had been checked by J. L. Young. (All credit to all of them.)

The Hawaiian and the Tahitian dialects of the Polynesian tongue are much alike, and in a few hours I was able to memorize parts of the prayers so that I could recite them fairly well. I had also found some information as to the origin and nature of the rites, which I will sketch briefly.

The ancient gods of Polynesia, Tu and Hina the universal god-parents of all the Polynesians–have long since replaced foreign gods of the firewalk, and are appealed to through four invocations which have been handed down from Mae-haa, who, according to tradition, received them directly from the deities themselves. (Traditional history takes the place of written history in such matters, and in this case no mention is made of borrowing invocations or rites from non-Polynesian sources.)

In other lands greenery of different kinds plays a part very often in rituals of firewalking, but in Polynesia, where the ti-plant had been used for centuries in religious observances, it was very natural that it should be selected for use in the new ritual. This plant grows profusely throughout the South Seas and for use in rituals there are selected stalks having two crowns, one to represent Tu, and one Hina.

Whatever foreign names may have been given to the ritual, it became known in short order as the "Ceremony of the Ti Root Oven" (Te Umu Ti). The roots of the ti-plant were baked in ground ovens on occasion, especially when other food was scarce, and because the cooking took much time, many heated rocks had to be made ready to place in the pits. It is not difficult to understand the transition from hot coals to hot stones in the rite.

The ti-plant, the leaves of which are called la'i in Hawaii, is known botanically as Taetsia fruticosa,and is a member of the lily family, as the structure of its flowers would indicate. Certain varieties had a fragrant scent, and the leaves turn yellow or "ripen" after a while. The flower is made up of closely-set white buds tinged with pale purple. Because of this scent, Hina is said to make known her presence by exuding a fragrant odor, by which she is called Hina-nui-i-te-aara (Great-Hina-in-the-fragrance). The firewalker uses the "doubleheaded" branch of the ti-plant like a wand, or brush, and ties strips of the individual leaves around his head and neck, as well as around his waist like a belt. The leaves were used to expel or ward off evil spirits. The la'i is an important item in the firewalk.

The wood used is that of the hau (pariti tiliacium), and is a member of the mallow (hibiscus) family. Like the ti, the hau was an important commodity in ancient Polynesian life. The word hau means "breath of life, spirit of life'," and therefore, is most important in religious practices.

Niau, or coconut leaves, are also important in the ancient life, of the Polynesians. They were used as a medium through which the spirits of deities might be transmitted to certain objects, thus consecrating them. The husk was made into twine for various uses, some of them significantly religious.

In one of the invocations given, Hina is called upon to "lie upon the hot stones." Traditionally, she radiates "cold heat," especially at night (as she represents the moon), and, originally, this was a night ceremony in Polynesia for this reason. (Not generally so in other lands.)

Stones for the rite come from, dried river beds and rounded ones are selected. They need to be smooth and of good weight. As they are similar

to those used in the ground ovens, they are called umu stones. (In Hawaii hot lava was used, and worked equally well. The rough and clinkery lava which would have had the greatest porosity was not walked upon-only the lava which was of a close texture like glass.)

I have been able to piece together an account of the training taken by the beginner to become an initiate priest of the Ti Oven Cult a master of the firewalking ritual.

The selection of a candidate for the firewalking priesthood is a momentous matter. As explained before, the eldest son is the most appropriate person for that honor, as it is a Polynesian custom that he should continue the family line. However, lacking an elder son or sons, it was not uncommon to go outside the family. Originally, however, only nephews were chosen, but as time went on, total strangers to the family were consecrated. The Polynesians had a university of two colleges in which selected youths had to study. At an early age, a man child of the gentry, or priestly family, was either dedicated to Tu or to Romo. If to Tu, then he became a student under the Tu papa kahuna (class of experts), and entered the Auwae Runa College (pertaining to things celestial); if to Rono, he was passed into the Auwae Raro College (pertaining to things terrestrial). The literal meanings of these terms were "Upper Jaw" and "Lower Jaw." The student was known as the hau-mana ("occult-power-inspired"), or as the mana-ai ("occult-power-food") of the expert under whom he was placed.

The training was extremely strenuous. The student had to undergo hardships and suffer privations. He had to learn the invocations, the proper methods of caring for, installing, or empowering the deities. He learned through a process of "mental absorption" observation, close contact with the spiritual forces, and strict adherence to rules and regulations. The Hawaiians have a saying, "He ale iki ko ke kahuna, aole hiki ke hookolo ia." This embodies the Polynesian theory that through constant invocations, using the same words and tone of voice, eventually the deities become accustomed(hoomau) to the calls, and will respond readily, willingly, and promptly. But, to neglect them by not calling upon them frequently, will cause them to "die" (desert the kahuna).

Furthermore, it was the belief of the na kahuna that as the invocations were handed down, the laterna kahuna became more and more powerful. This was because they have a longer line of direct ancestors, all of whom have acquired mana (power) in great amounts, which is, in turn, passed on down the line.

Having accumulated such pertinent bits of information, and armed with the prayers I had memorized, I began a new attack on the wall of secrecy. I eventually found the opportunity to recite a little of the material to the Chief, and, having made myself a counterpart of the fabled camel who was allowed to get his head inside the Arab's tent, I was soon all the way in. If one is in, he cannot be kept out. Chief Tu-nui Arii-peu let down the bars and made the inevitable welcome. Being permitted by circumstances to let down the bars, he opened his heart as well, and with his customary generosity offered me everything.

Gratefully, and in all humility, may I state that he has adopted me as his blood son, has given me an honored place in his family line, and has made me the proud possessor of his distinguished ancestors. He has also given me a new name to use as a member of his family. I am, using that name in the author's signature of this report. I am Arii-peu Tama-iti as well as Charles W. Kenn. At this writing I plan to accept his warm invitation and go to spend most of the coming winter season with him on Huahine where I can continue searching for information of value. I shall also, in all probability, complete my initiation into the cult of the fir ewalk to the point of being able to use for myself what has been taught to me. If I succeed, I shall be one of the three remaining firewalkers in Polynesia.

As a candidate for initiation as a firewalking priest of the Ti Oven Cult, I was allowed to see every step leading up to the final crossing of the hot stones. Of necessity I was permitted to forego the long and arduous training of other days, but was given the assurance that once. I learned every step in the rite and all of the invocations, I would undoubtedly be able to perform the ritual. I would then have been consecrated to the work and would have been properly ordained, or introduced to the gods so that they would, thereafter, respond to my invocations.

Firewalking From the Inside

BY

ARII-PEU TAMA-ITI

(CHARLES W. KENN)

Ordained and Initiate Firewalker

A report on four firewalking performances in Honolulu, and a critical study of them from the point of view of the initiate firewalker instead of that of the onlooker.


Logistics and Experiments

The tests took place in Honolulu, beginning in the month of January, 1949. Tu-nui Arii-peu, a high priest and high chief of the firewalk (Te Umu Ti cult) visited Honolulu from the island of Huahine in the Society Islands. He was accompanied by four young men and two young women. They staged four demonstrations in the amphitheater of the University of Hawaii in Manoa Valley, Honolulu, and one demonstration in Wailuku, Maui. More than, six hundred people attended each of the Honolulu demonstrations and, in all, some 567 people firewalked.

For the demonstrations, a rectangular pit six feet wide, fifteen feet long, and four and one-half feet deep in the center, was dug in such a way as to create a gentle slope on, all sides running towards the center. The pit was supplied with the following materials 

  1. Small pebbles were strewn on the bottom.
  2. Dried coconut leaves were piled on top to a height of over two feet.
  3. Four and one-half cords of green hau (native hibiscus) wood were then piled over this heap extending above the surface of the ground for three feet at the highest point.
  4. Two heavy truck loads of large basaltic stones obtained from a dried-up river bed (called imustones) were then piled over this heap, covering the hau wood. The stones weighed from 10 to 60 pounds each.

Long poles were placed at each corner and one on each side at the middle of the pit to provide sufficient draft, and to hold up the materials.

ti-leaf stalk was planted at each corner of the pit.

The fire was lighted at 10 a.m. as the ceremony was to start at 10 a.m. That gave five hours' time for the wood to burn and the stones to become very hot.

After all the wood had been burned, the stones were leveled and made firm with long poles to provide a good surface across which to fire walk. All stones were turned over so that the hottest side would be uppermost. Many split upon contact with the cooler air.

During the fourth Honolulu demonstration which took place February 19, 1949, the following tests were made: The temperature of the heated stones was measured accurately, as we had the co-operation of the Hawaiian Sugar Planters' Association, in providing the use of a thermo-electric pyrometer equipped with two thermo-couples. Also the valued assistance of Mr. Henry Iwata of the Association staff.

Mr. Moses Ome of Honolulu kindly loaned his stop watch with which the time of each step of the controls could be secured, as well as the length of time it took to firewalk through the pit.

After the firewalking, four pieces of steak were broiled on the stones and their cooking timed. Pieces of newspaper were allowed to catch fire as well as small pieces of wood, and timed.

Mr. P. C. Hu, an expert photographer, took hundreds of pictures, some of which illustrate this report.

Cine-Pic Hawaii made a 16 mm. colored moving picture of the demonstration.

The temperature of the firewalking pit was taken shortly before the firewalking began, and was found to be 920 degrees Centigrade. The heat of the stones averaged 610 degrees Centigrade; however, the heat of the first stone on which every firewalker had to step was only 210 degrees Centigrade at the start of the firewalk. But it was more than twice as hot as boiling water, and the stones farther from the edge of the pit, and which made up the firewalk proper, averaged over six times the boiling temperature. It may be noted that cotton cloth scorches at about 120 degrees, and a comparison may be drawn between the familiar heat of an electric iron being used on clothing and the temperature of the stones in the pit. The ends of the thermo-couples were left on the first stone throughout the demonstration which took 17 minutes, and during which a total of 167 people firewalked. The stone lost 35 degrees of heat during that time, which shows fairly well that its porous nature did not prevent its sending out heat a supposedly non-conducting characteristic offered to explain away fire-immunity.

The chief firewalker was the first to step into the firewalking pit. He stood with both feet resting flatly upon the first stone for 1 1/2 seconds, slapping the stones ahead with his wand of ti-leaves, and at the same time invoking the deities of the fir ewalk. He then walked deliberately but slowly across the pit in 8 seconds and nine steps. He was closely followed by his assistant. Their feet were examined before they entered the pit and after they emerged from it. They were not blistered nor burned. The next two firewalkers took 5 1/2 seconds and eight steps, each foot coming in contact with the stones for 3/4second. They were young men 20-22 years old, both Caucasian. Neither had firewalked before. There was no sign of a blister or burn on the soles of their feet; as a matter of fact, their soles were cool to the touch.

At each crossing, those who were lined up waiting to fire walk closed in and followed the chief across. There was sufficient time between repetitions for about forty to cross. Some crossed more than once.

Tu-nui Arii-peu did not say that he would protect anyone. All were warned that they must walk at their own risk, but it was understood that it would be almost safe to cross. Immunity was provided for most, but failed for a few.

The chief and his assistant firewalked four times, after which their feet were again examined. Although the feet of neither were burned nor blistered, the soles of the chief firewalker appeared yellowish along the edge after his four trips. They were cool to the touch, and the Chief stated that they did not feel hot or even warm. He suffered no ill-effects. His assistant likewise escaped injury.

However, the next two firewalkers did not do so well, for by this time, both had tiny blisters along the insteps, and on each toe of both feet. They stated that they felt as if many tiny needles were being jabbed into their feet.

Among the amateur firewalkers, Mr. John F.G. Stokes, retired curator of the Bernice Pauahi Museum, reached about three-fourths of the walk, when he began to wobble and had to be helped out of the pit. The ball of his right foot was severely burned. The skin was peeled off in three long strips and the entire ball was left raw and exposed, but not bleeding. Mr. Stokes kept repeating to himself, "It didn't work with me, I wonder why?"1

1     A week later, Mr. and Mrs. Stokes called at my home. Although Mr. Stokes had his right foot bandaged with a white stocking over it, he was driving his car. And, he did not walk with crutches. He could not remember exactly what took place that day, and still wondered why it was that he was burned. He said that he believed that the prayers used by the chief firewalker would have a psychological effect on the minds of the people, and that the materials used in the pit could have the same effect, especially upon the minds of the natives (Hawaiians) . He stated that his feet felt the heat the moment he stepped into the pit. Mr. Stokes remembers interviewing Papa-Ita, a firewalker who visited Honolulu in 1901, and who would not allow any one to follow him.

Mrs. Stokes thought that her husband's age (he is seventy-three) could have had something to do with his being burned, as it tended to make him unsteady, and he was not accustomed to going barefooted even on the ground, to say nothing of over hot stones! As the tops of his toes were also burned, he must have slipped on the hot stones.

The element of a psychological hazard may have entered in, for Dr. Stokes had firewalked against the express wishes of his wife. He had decided to chance the walk, as it seemed comparatively safe and as he relied on his well-known love and sympathy for the Hawaiians. 

At the end of the ceremony, the test with steak broiling was made. The results:

  1. One side browned in 2 1/2 minutes.
  2. Two sides browned in 6 minutes.
  3. One side cooked in 3 minutes.
  4. Two sides cooked in 7 minutes.

One piece of newspaper burst into flames instantly when put in contact with a large stone that had just previously been walked upon.

Another piece of newspaper turned black in 2 minutes on a smaller stone, and caught fire in 3 1/2 minutes.

A small piece of wood turned black in 5 minutes. Another flamed in 7 minutes. 

Remember, these tests were made immediately after the firewalk

On interviewing the amateur firewalkers, I found the majority agreed that upon stepping down into the pit they felt no sensation of heat in the soles of their feet, but that on their faces and hands they felt the heat greatly. As reported in the Kuda Bux tests, soles felt cooler to the touch after the firewalk than before it a strange phenomenon allowed to pass as lacking significance by the London investigators, even though they based their denial of any magic on the fact that feet must become cumulatively, hotter with each additional step, and that four steps were, therefore, the limit-two for each foot. 

Another experience found to be fairly common was that of a prickling sensation in the soles of the feet during the walk. This sometimes amounted to a painful "needling" or increased to the sharp pain of a burn, if a burn resulted. The average sensation was close to that felt when the circulation is cut off and the foot "goes to sleep." This is a peculiar matter and remains unexplained. Tests with materials aside from the firewalk give no such sensations. The burning sensation alone is felt, and after some time of testing and near-burning, only soreness results.

After watching and testing three of the demonstrations, being fully convinced of the genuineness of the demonstration, I crossed the hot stones myself on the fourth firewalk. Here is my report as I wrote it down the day after the walk:

February 20, 1949

As I stepped down to the first stone in the walk, any misgivings I may have had, left me. My mind seemed to become strangely empty or blank. The very uneven surface before me suddenly seemed to become smooth almost like a pavement. I stepped slowly forward, planting my feet firmly on the stones, but found myself doing as most of the others had done, using my arms, to help keep my balance as I stepped from one rounded surface to the next.

I felt no sensation of heat on the bottoms of my feet as I entered the pit and began my crossing, but the heat on my face and hands was terrific.

I was nearing the end of the pit, with two steps to go, when a friend standing at the side called out, "Atta boy, Mr. Kenn!" My attention was momentarily distracted and I involuntarily glanced up at him. I did not falter in my deliberate pace, but at the instant he called out to me, there came a sharp stab of pain in the ball of my right foot and in the toes–this foot was just coming down. My pace automatically quickened and as the other foot made contact with a stone for the last step, a similar stab of pain was felt in it. I stepped out of the pit and found both of my feet continuing to pain me with a sharp tingling, but not with the familiar sensation of burns. I examined both feet and nothing was to be seen in the way of markings or blisters. Later, at home, I made another inspection and found what seemed to be hard lumps under each toe. The stinging sensations resembled the pricking of many needles, but the soles of my feet were not hot to the touch, or sore. This condition lasted for about five hours. In the morning my feet were back to normal in every way and the strange lumps had vanished completely.

The feeling of having the mind a blank was a common experience among the firewalkers I talked to. It is evident that a break in this peculiar mental state, or an interruption of the successful course of the walk, acted in some way to "break the spell," and that burns then occurred as if no protection had been offered. Rev. N. Vanora Wattson, a visitor from San Francisco, and a Huna Research Associate, had the misfortune to slip and fall when she stepped on a sharp fragment which the heat had caused to crack off the end of a rock which was being walked upon. She stated that she had felt no heat on her soles until the sharp point pierced her foot and she fell in her effort to leave the pit. As she fell she sensed a mental change, and burns were suffered on parts touching the stones before she could rise.

In an attempt to give her conclusions afterwards, she said, "It seems to me that the secret lies in not consciously keeping the mind centered on the protection of the leader, but in allowing a mental state of a rather definite sort, to withdraw the consciousness from the self, and that when something happens unexpectedly to bring this self-consciousness back into function, the fire-immunity momentarily or permanently fails."

The weight of the person doing the firewalk seems to count very little. In the London tests much was made of the fact that the successful English amateur who outdid Hussain in the firewalk, weighed many pounds more than Hussain or Kuda Bux who walked earlier. In the Honolulu tests the walk was repeatedly made without burns by individuals weighing up to two hundred fifty pounds. On the other hand, there is no apparent reason to conclude that a heavier pressure of foot on stone or coal is of some advantage. The "steadiness" of stride and the "confidence" given in London as the only necessities for successful firewalking had to do with the mental attitude rather than with the steady placing of feet, the weight or the usual mental condition of "confidence." One may be permitted to guess that the Englishman who bested Hussain at his own game made use of the special state of mind even though not familiar with it as such. One might even guess that he found favor in some way with the ancient gods whom Hussain had invoked with no great success, in so far as he was personally concerned that day.

The time limit of contact with a very hot surface was given by the London testers as about a half second and not more than three-quarters. The Chief, at the beginning of the walk stepped down on the first rock in the pit and remained with both feet flat on it for a timed period of one and a half seconds while he brushed the stone with his ti-leaf wand before making the crossing.

Out of the 567 people who firewalked in the four performances, about 50 suffered burns ranging from the slightest blisters to burns of a serious nature. At least three individuals required hospitalization, and a half dozen were treated by emergency stations and sent to their personal physicians.

The stones of the walk were hot enough to burn. They burned some who crossed at a running pace, but not the majority who crossed much more slowly. The conclusion that seems impossible to avoid is that some psychological element set in action some unidentified force which prevented the firewalkers from being burned except in certain circumstances.

Firewalking From the Inside

BY

ARII-PEU TAMA-ITI

(CHARLES W. KENN)

<H2

Ordained and Initiate Firewalker

A report on four firewalking performances in Honolulu, and a critical study of them from the point of view of the initiate firewalker instead of that of the onlooker.


These tests and critical studies of fire-immunity were made in conjunction with similar studies and investigations being conducted by HUNA RESEARCH ASSOCIATES.

For further information address,

HUNA RESEARCH ASSOCIATES
c/o Max Freedom Long
P. O. Box 2867
Hollywood Station
Los Angeles 28, Calif.


INTRODUCTION

The publication of this report by Charles W. Kenn, marks the first really important step taken in years in the direction of understanding firewalking and related phenomena. 

His findings and conclusions are of such a nature that they open once more the entire question of fire immunity which was partly closed in the past decade by tests and reports which now appear much less than valid. 

Despite the reluctance of "science" to accept evidence of the verity of the materials of psychic science and its various branches, progress is being made toward fuller understanding.

On the part of the Huna Research Associates, I wish to congratulate Mr. Kenn on his outstanding work. For the first time, here is set before the public a full and careful report on firewalking from the point of view of the firewalker himself.

(Signed)

MAX FREEDOM LONG 


ILLUSTRATIONS

Fig. 1.

The master firewalker, Tu-nui Arii-peu and his young assistant, both from Huahini, with Charles W. Kenn.

 

Fig. 2.

Turning the hot stones over and leveling and firming them just before the firewalking.

Charles_Kenn_Fire_Walking_Pg1-Fig2_sm

 

Fig. 3.

Tur-nui Arii-peu leads the procession across the very hot stones. Insert shows him at the time of a later test, in native costume, pausing to recite an invocation after crossing the pit. He carries ti-plant wand on shoulder.

Charles_Kenn Firewalking on hot stone

Fig. 4.

The author of the report firewalks.

Charles_Kenn Firewalking

Fig. 5.

The firewalkers' contemplative expression may be seen here. Nearly all experienced a peculiar mental state during the walk.

Firewalker Firewalk on hot firewalking pit

Fig. 6.

Note the wrapt expression on the face of the lady just finishing her successful firewalk. Assistants stand anxiously by lest there be another accident or fall on the hot stones. 

Firewalking with locals

Fig. 7.

The successful firewalkers did not hurry. With short steps on the uneven surface and with an expression akin to that of sleep-walkers, they made the crossing. Heat was felt on hands and face, but not on the feet. Prickling was the only sensation in the feet unless something broke the spell and sharp pain was felt. Soles were cool to the touch after contact with the hot stones. Crossings took from 5 1/2 seconds to 8 seconds. The Chief took 9 seconds for his crossings.

Charles_Kenn Firewalking experience

 

Fig. 8.

After the firewalking. Child finds stone hot enough to burn fingers. Below her hand a wad of paper is beginning to char. At the far corner a stick is beginning to smoke as a young man watches. In heating the stones the green wood first covered the stones with soot. The stones later became red-hot and the soot was burned away. Some stones split when their hotter sides were turned up to the air before the performance. Immediately before a firewalk, a cracked stone, later walked on, registered a surface temperature of 620 degrees Centigrade on the hotter upturned side, and 598 degrees at the bottom of the crack.

Firewalking pit tempareture


FIREWALKING

FROM THE INSIDE

Up to this time we have had the results of firewalking tests placed before us by men of science and by travelers, but have never been given the firewalker's side of the story.

As the reports thus far available give no valid explanation of the phenomenon of fire-immunity in its several forms, it is apparent that it is high time for the persons who are able to do such things as firewalking, to be given their say in the matter.

The scientists are not entirely to blame: for the omission of acceptable information as to (1) the training of the firewalkers, (2) their beliefs and educational backgrounds, and (3) the rituals used as a preparation for the firewalk. The scientists failed to give needed information on these points, either because it seemed too unimportant to stress, or because they could not obtain it from the firewalkers such information often being held both sacred and secret, as in Polynesia.

The University of London Council for Psychical Investigation, when reporting on the tests made of Kuda Bux, wrote, "He (Kuda Bux) stated that any impurity in the fire (of wood and charcoal) such as cow dung, would inevitably burn him. He also offered to walk on red-hot stones, if we wished. …Kuda Bux stated that his immunity from burns was due to `faith'; that he had to ask a 'higher power' in India whether he might perform the feat. He also claimed that he could convey his immunity from burns to another person and take him over the fire without injury. …Before … the first walk, he stood in the end of the trench (filled with glowing coals ) on a wooden platform that had been placed there for that purpose, and, with left hand upraised, muttered a prayer from the Koran. He then carefully brushed away the ash from the embers, with his hand. He said he sometimes uses a fan. He then stepped on the fire, taking four steps, each foot being in contact with the embers twice … There was no sign of blistering … paper tossed on the fire blazed almost instantly."

The conclusion of the report was not greatly enlightening. It was, in part, "… it is possible … with chemically unprepared feet (not calloused) to take four rapid steps on (burning) charcoal at (a surface temperature of) 430 degrees Centigrade, without injury to feet." 

Later reports made on similar tests with Hussain, gave no additional information, but it was decided at that time that anyone could firewalk if he only had the courage, and walked steadily across the coals. This conclusion was reached after an Englishman who had these qualifications, performed a short firewalk better than Hussain. The flaw in the conclusion seemed to be that not everyone was able to qualify. However, the world was told to dismiss the idea that there might be an element of magic or of the supernatural in the firewalk.

An inspection of the mass of information available on the externals of other kinds of fire-immunity makes it clear to the layman that the famous reports in question are wanting in many respects, and that the conclusions reached are not at all final. In his book, THE SECRET SCIENCE BEHIND MIRACLES, Max Freedom Long has assembled evidence of a very striking nature which. bears on this point. Performers have, several times a day, held red-hot iron bars gripped tightly between their teeth while bending them up and down at the free ends. The enamel, of the teeth showed no cracking, but such heat applied as a test to newly extracted teeth cracked the enamel instantly. A blow-torch used for cutting steel was allowed to play on the throat of the same performer. He repeatedly chewed up live coals a half inch in diameter, and he drank boiling water so hot that it bubbled violently in the cup. In the records of spiritualistic phenomena, fire has been handled in similar ways, and D.D. Home held his bushy head in the flames in a fireplace without being scorched, also doing the same with flowers and fine fabric. He presented a blazing log to a woman observer and she held it in her arms with no injury to skin or clothing.

It is evident to the student who is looking for the answer to the secret of fire-immunity not simply for a negation of the phenomenon that the shortness of the time in which feet contact heated substances in the firewalk, is NOT THE COMPLETE EXPLANATI0N.

In making the tests about to be described; and while keeping in mind the findings and opinions of the scientists and their friends, my attention was directed primarily to the psychological side of the matter. Tests of temperature and of the length of time for feet to contact stones were secondary.

However, it is necessary to describe the externals first, to prove the genuineness of the demonstrations.

Firewalking and Firewalkers of the South Seas

May 1953

by

Wilmon Menard

Raiatea_Umuki Firewalker

The huge rocks of the firewalking pit glowed bright-red in the faint light of the South Pacific dawn. Now and then between me and the oven the coconut- oil smeared bodies of the fire-tenders passed briefly as they raked out the last of the log cinders and levelled the hot rocks. It was a tableau not unlike a scene in Dante’s Inferno. Little did I know then that I was to be one of the persons to cross that fiery expanse.

Word had reached me in Tahiti that an Umuti (Umu Ki or firewalk) was to be held on the Island of Raiatea, 135 miles distant, so I lost no time in boarding an interisland trading schooner to be on hand for the ceremony. I had arrived in time to observe every phase of the imminent firewalk. I had watched the digging of the firewalking pit, 30 feet long, 15 feet wide, and 4 feet deep; the gathering of the fagots and logs for the fuel; the rolling of the stones into a high mound, and the day-long heating. Now the actual fire ritual in this sacred coconut grove behind the village of Tevaitoa was about to start.

My interest in man’s strange experiments in fiery tortures was aroused several years ago when the late Robert Ripley, of "Believe it or not” fame, sponsored a firewalking Hindu-mystic, Kuda Bux by name, who strolled barefooted across two separate firewalking pits in a parking lot in Manhattan’s Rockefeller Center. It is a matter of official record that three cords of oak and 500 pounds of charcoal burned for eight hours before Kuda Bux made the walk across the two separate ovens that a pyrometer registered at 1,220 F. Attending physicians peered and smelled at the soles of the firewalker’s feet, but found only one small burn, where a coal had stuck to his instep. Their nostrils detected no odor of burned flesh. I was one of the astounded spectators, and I was deeply impressed by the feat.

Now as I stood in the greying dawn in this sacred grove of Raiatea I thought of man’s superstitious dread and awe of fire, coupled with his instinctive, practical usages, that have resulted in so many fantastic fire ordeals. The American Indians during certain rites danced in the live coals of their campfires; devotees of the Sinsyn Shinto sect of Japan firewalk barefooted over glowing coals. In Hawaii in the early days the priests and priestesses of the Fire Goddess Pele strode across the molten lava on the broad bosom of Kilauea volcano. In darkest Africa, newborn children are held briefly over a flame. In India, cremation of the corpse is supposed to be the soul’s only passport to their particular firewalking pit.

The Chief Leads

Now the firewalk of Polynesia was to be performed before my eyes. Chief Terii-Pao, the young and hereditary firewalker of Raiatea, had suddenly called an Umuti, primarily, of course, to pay sacred homage to the two great goddesses of ancient days—Hina-nui-te’a’ara (Great-Grey-Of-The-Scented-

Herbs), who was the Goddess of the Moon, and Te-Vahine-Nui-Tahu-ra’i e(The Great Woman-Who-Set-Fire-To-The-Sky)—but also to earn a few francs with which to buy a bottle of rum and a few yards of calico cloth for his woman.

Terii-Pao suddenly stepped from his nearby coconut palm marae (temple), and his attendants, similarly garbed in native pareu and sacred Ti-leaves, followed. I could feel the crackling excitement that swept the clearing upon his appearance. The laughter, singing, and loud talking ceased instantly. All eyes were fixed upon the handsome chief—a splendid figure standing at the head of his assistants. He turned, caught my eye and smiled. Once we had sailed aboard a trading schooner to the pearl-diving atoll of Anaa in the Dangerous Archipelago; I had gifted him with a case of foodstuffs, so we were friends.

The many tourists who had voyaged on the interisland schooner from Papeete, Tahiti, surrounded Terii-Pao, and began a careful inspection of his feet. He submitted indulgently, grinning broadly at their thorough examination. I saw one of the tourists turn suddenly, walk to the edge of the firewalking pit, and look full into the center of the firewalking pit for a few seconds. With a groan he clapped his hands over his face and backed away. I could see that his neck and face were badly seared; his glazed eyes were streaming tears. Another tourist, with the aid of a long stick, dropped a handkerchief upon the rocks and it turned almost instantly to a grey powder. The firewalking pit was certainly hot! The tourists withdrew from Teril with baffled expressions.

Chief Terii, with head held high and with eyes uplifted to the opalescent sky, walked toward the end of the oven, a branch of Ti-leaves held in his hand. There he stopped, striking the rocks three times with the Ti-wand. He began to chant in Tahitian the ancient firewalking prayer. I, knowing the language, listened closely.

These were the words:

"O Being (Spirit) who enchants the oven, let it die out for a while! O dark earthworms! O light earthworms! Fresh water and salt water, heat of the firewalking ground, darkening of the firewalking pit, hold up the footsteps of the walkers and fan the heat of the bed. O cold host, let us linger in the midst of the firewalking pit. O Vahine-nui-tahu-ra’i, hold the fan and let us go into the firewalking pit for a little while!”

Then followed a measured cant of the ten first steps to be made upon the fiery oven. Finally, Terii’s loud exultant shout of: "O Vahine-nui-tahu-ra’i-e! All is covered!”

I shall never forget the great sigh and then the hush that followed the Chief's first step upon the firewalking pit. He hesitated a moment as if to be sure that the stones would not shift under his weight, and then with head held high he walked onto the glowing firewalking bed of rocks. The tourists gave a gasp of dismay; the natives sat stiffly, unmoving, as if hypnotized. I watched incredulously. This was no sham. A human being was walking onto an firewalking pit of rocks sufficient to roast one! Terii crossed the pit and then turned and retraced his steps. Upon his return, his assistants fanned in a straight line behind him. Again Terii struck the edge of the glowing rocks with his Ti-wand; then he and his followers marched with firm steps across the Umu (oven). I could see the heat waves rippling above their heads, but there was no odor of seared flesh, as one might expect. I stared fixedly until they had traversed the oven, expecting every second for one of them to leap with a scream of agony from the line. But each one passed across safely. The last firewalker stepped from the oven, and Terii raised his Ti-leaves, took his place at the head of the column and led them back across the fiery expanse. This was repeated three times.

With the third crossing, Terii raised his Ti-leaves and cried "Aura! Enough!" Then, unexpectedly, he turned quickly and proceeded to crawl across the 30- foot oven of rocks on his stomach!

At the far side he stood up, grinned and beckoned to the tourists to make their inspection. His body, as one of the tourists loudly verified, was not even warmed. I moved forward to examine his feet. They were not even marked by the crossing of the fiery furnace. The examination over, we withdrew with amazed faces.

I Try It

Terii then turned to the assembled natives and exhorted those who were afflicted with any physical or mental taints, in need of spiritual purification, or who wished to test their courage with fire, to firewalk behind him over the hot rocks. Passing close to me, he caught my eye again, grinned, and stopped. "Perhaps you would like to walk behind me across the Umu. You have lived long in our islands and understand our customs and ceremonies. But if you are afraid, it would be dangerous to attempt the firewalk."

It was his last remark that compelled me to kick off my sneekers, remove my socks and cry: "Haere outou! Let's go!"

A loud chorus of "Maitai! Good!" rose from the native onlookers. A comic among the tourists yelled: "You're going to be sorry, chum!"

I stepped into the column of fire walkers forming behind the Chief. Now my bravado was on the ebb. I was experiencing the first symptoms of fright, and I cursed the impulse that had made me accept Terii's invitation to walk behind him over the Umu. There was the customary taut feeling in my throat, and my stomach felt as if it had suddenly been invaded with crazed butterflies. My heart started to pound violently; my head ached, and I wanted very much to step out of line. I have always had an uncommon fear of fire, since the day in my childhood when I fell into a burning bonfire, and now that memory was intensified. The stalwart Tahua (priest) behind me gave me a light push. Terii had started toward the firewalking pit!

I clamped my teeth hard, inhaled deeply, and gave a belly-depth groan. Mechanically I started to walk, and I felt not unlike a somnambulist proceeding toward a portentous fate. My legs felt numb and leaden; my heart was now thudding with jarring impacts against my ribs. Then my bare feet touched something uneven and elevated. This is it, I told myself; you'd better step out of line before it s too late! Another firm shove on my shoulders, and in the next instant countless tiny electric shocks pricked the bottom of my feet. It was not unlike the sudden jabbing of the skin with sharp needles. Smothering heat waves shimmered before my steadfast gaze, compelling me at last to half-close my eyes. It was not unlike the sudden blast of heat that explodes from the widely flung doors of a huge blast-furnace. The heat of the oven all but suffocated me. My lungs became filled with superheated air, and I felt I would collapse if I did not breathe pure cool air quickly. As if from a great distance, through a long windswept tunnel, I heard the murmuring of the spectators. And as I walked I felt that I must surely present an abject figure treading behind Terii, if my physical aspect matched my mental unrest.

Then, suddenly, the tingling sensation on the bottom of my feet ceased, and I knew that I had crossed the oven. I glanced down at my feet. They were untouched! I had half-expected to see burn-blisters erupting between the toes and the flesh bursting under intense roasting. Every pore of my body filtered rivulets of sweat, and I could see that Chief Terli's broad back was glistening with globules of body moisture. Terii abruptly lifted his wand of Ti leaves, a recognized signal that the last in line had passed over the Umu, and now everyone was to right-about-face for the return transit. I knew that I could not undergo another firewalk upon the hot stones, so I stepped quickly out of line. Terii grinned and gave me an understanding slap on my shoulders. Then he led his followers back across the oven.

Quickly I was surrounded by the tourists, who lifted my feet and wiped away the dirt to search for burn marks. There were none! The natives shook my hand, and gave complimentary shouts of "Maitai-roa! Very good!"

White Man Looks to Science

Several white men have firewalked barefooted across the firewalking pit of Polynesia, among them Dr. William Craig and his brother, former British resident agents of the Cook Islands; they made a safe crossing. Some, voicing flippant or skeptical remarks, were horribly burned during an Umuti, necessitating hospitalization; others, believing in the strange ceremonies of the islands, have made the walk unscathed. The reasons for the different experiences I cannot explain.

Some assayers of human immunity to fire-burn have made interesting observations. A writer-traveler in Japan, John Hyde, noticed that the priests, before firewalking over their herb-strewn firewalking pits, rubbed the soles of their feet with salt. He experimented similarly, and after a walk across an firewalking pit, he remarked: "My confidence was not misplaced. In my feet I felt only a sensation of gentle warmth, but my ankles, to which no salt was applied, were scorched."

Wemyss Reid, in his Memoirs and Correspondence of Lyon Playfair, tells how Playfair induced the Victorian Prince of Wales, in a faith-test in science, to stir a pot of molten metal with his bare hand (after he had cleansed the hand with ammonia to rid it of any grease), and to ladle out a measure. The Prince dipped out some boiling lead without sustaining any burns. Playfair then concluded his observations on the royal person's act by saying: "It is a well-known scientific fact that the human hand, if perfectly cleansed, may be placed uninjured in lead boiling at white heat, the moisture of the skin protecting it under these conditions from any injury."

Some years ago, the astute magician and escape-artist, Harry Houdini, an avid debunker of performances of the so-called supernatural, blasted demonstrations of fire-eaters and firewalkers in his book Miracle Mongers and Their Methods (E. P. Dutton, 1920). He took particular exception to a "roasting alive" act performed by a young man inside a heated glass enclosure garbed only in bathing trunks, with a steak dangling from his arm. The idea was for the exhibitionist to remain inside the booth, exposed to a high register of heat until the steak was thoroughly cooked. Houdini pointed out that the young man protected his hair with a bathing cap and had smeared clay over his eyebrows, so that the hair would not retain the heat longer than skin cells. Houdini maintained that this, with the tempering effect of excreting perspiration, was the solution to this heat-torture act. However, the magician explained, if the man had stayed in the overheated enclosure beyond a certain period of time, his body would have become dehydrated and serious heat prostration would have resulted. Precise timing was the explanation of this trick, according to Houdini.

U. S. Air Force Makes Tests

A more recent experiment in heat and its effects on the human body was conducted a short time ago at the University of California in Los Angeles, and was supervised by Dr. Craig Taylor, physiologist and engineer, at the request of the U. S. Army Air Force Command.

The Air Corps wanted to know one very important thing: what were the potentialities concerning a jet-plane pilot's being roasted alive in a friction-heated cockpit? These supersonic crafts, powered by jet propulsion, need refrigeration systems to keep the cockpits comfortable and bearable. What would happen to the pilot or pilots, if the cooling equipment failed while the jet planes were in flight? Would the pilot collapse at the controls? Would he succumb to heat prostration? Would he have to bail out in the stratosphere, or would he be literally baked alive in the cockpit? Could he stay at the controls, enduring the terrific heat, until he was able to slow down the plane?

This was a big order, but Professor Taylor was determined to find out what would happen to a human in a jet plane in flight if the cooling system conked out. He made with the help of his assistants a testing furnace out of a huge steel cylinder, and provided a strong fan to suck in dry air across an outside battery of white-hot electric grids. The first human guinea-pigs remained in the hot-box until the heat passed the boiling-point of water (212° F.). These student volunteers in the heat experiment came out a little groggy and florid faced, but quite "uncooked."

Professor Taylor reserved the final and decisive tests for himself. His hands, feet, and neck were protected before being wheeled into the cylinder, the temperature of which in this supreme experiment upon entrance read 230° F. He remained in this overheated atmosphere for 15¼ minutes, until the heat climbed to 262° F. While he was in there, an egg fried on a metal frying-pan in front of him. The only uncomfortable effects he suffered were that his face became fiery red when the hot blasts of air hit it, and his nasal membranes contracted, but apart from these discomforts he experienced no dire physical or mental agonies.

His answer was simple and to the point: the human body's resistance to heat is its own cooling system which nature has so advantageously provided — perspiration and mucous secretions. He proved that the moisture evaporating from the skin provides part of the body with a layer of cool air. A "desert waterbag" hanging on the outside of a car in traveling keeps the water cool from its own evaporation of moisture through the porous canvas.

While inside the hot-box, Professor Taylor learned that at one time when the register of heat was at 236° F, the air three quarters of an inch from his nose was 226° F. The skin of the nose itself registered a safe 119.5° F. Air drawn into the nostrils was cooled down to 100° F., which certainly could not injure the lungs. The general temperature of his body rose only a couple of degrees.

But what the Professor did emphasize as a danger to jet pilots in overheated cockpits was the raised temperature of the blood being conveyed to the brain cells. This would give pilots of jet planes the surest indication of approaching heat prostration should the cooling equipment break down. He also pointed out that man's fear of heat is chiefly a mental torture. Humans, no matter if they are pilots in friction heated cockpits of jet planes or unfortunate victims trapped in burning buildings or ships, can overcome high registers of heat by rational, well-organized attitudes of self-preservation. Fright or overexcitement can raise the temperature of the blood many degrees.

The firewalkers of Raiatea, Japan, Fiji, India, and Africa have had no indoctrination as to the scientific principles of heat, and, therefore, it is quite understandable that they would look to a psychic or supernatural source to explain their safe firewalks across firewalking pits. Certainly, the Umuti of Raiatea is a remarkable feat. One must bear in mind that hot rocks and not hot air come into contact with the flesh of the participants. I think Professor Taylor would have to admit that Chief Terii's ceremony is quite different from the one he conducted.

And I have to remind myself that no scientist has completely explained to my entire satisfaction how I crossed the fiery pit at Raiatea without so much as a blistered toe.

Dancing With the Fire

The Skeptical Mind

by Michael Sky

 

When we are certain that a phenomenon such as firewalking does not happen, we are really saying: "My basic knowledge of how the universe works is so complete and so accurate that the cosmos holds no more surprises for me. I know all the real truths and the details will all fit them."

How sad … If only experience and life would not keep teaching us how little we know.

Sit down before fact like a little child, and be prepared to give up every preconceived notion, follow humbly wherever and to whatever abyss Nature leads, or you shall learn nothing.

Doubt is not ultimately transcended through beliefs. Doubt is a state of mind that is fundamentally without content. It is an expression of the contraction of the being. It is not cured with positive beliefs that are the opposite of doubt. It is cured by the release of this contraction so that there is a continuity between consciousness and forms and relations, and unobstructed continuity between the being and Reality altogether.

 

The first barrier which most people encounter on their way to the firewalk is something which I call the skeptical mind. The skeptical mind is that part of us which tends to doubt and distrust certain things, especially things which we have never experienced before, such as Firewalking. It is a 'show-me' attitude, which assumes that something is false until proven true, a predisposition of disbelief toward anything which would stretch us even slightly beyond our current convictions about the nature of things. Persisted in, it becomes a mentally, emotionally, and physically ingrained habit, a fixed posture of skepticism, from which it is impossible to even entertain notions such as Firewalking, much less to participate in and truly learn from such realities.

The skeptical mind is a total way of being in the world which is endemic to our culture, a highly valued trait within our scientific, medical, legal, media, business, and educational communities. All of us carry some degree of the skeptical edge in our lives, though for some it is much sharper than for others. It is a deeply rooted pattern of psycho-physical response, taught to us at an early age, and supported by virtually all of our cultural institutions.

Above all, the skeptical mind is viewed as absolutely essential to our survival in these modern times. This is a dog-eat-dog world after all, filled with harsh truths and hard realities, filled to the brim with shams and charlatans, rip-offs and scams, so many fictions masquerading as fact. Our survival depends upon our ability to separate the snake oil from the real thing, to discern the true from the false. Thus, we talk of healthy skepticism, of street-smarts, of hard-bitten cynicism, and of cold, relentless logic, all terms which suggest strength and intelligence to us. Asked to define the opposite of skepticism, we will usually come up with words such as naivety, romanticism, idealism, and innocence, all suggestive of weakness and stupidity.

In fact, the word skepticism means doubt, distrust, and disbelief, and its true opposites are faith, trust, and openness. The more we approach the circumstances of our lives with the attitudes of doubt, distrust, and disbelief, the more fully committed we become, mentally, emotionally, and physically, to the skeptical mind and the resulting posture of skepticism. The more fully we have adopted a posture of skepticism, the more difficult it becomes to approach anything in life with the attitude and posture of open faith and trust. This is especially true for new things, strange things, foreign things, unheard of things, 'too good to be true' things, and 'impossible' things. Eventually, a deeply ingrained posture of skepticism operates like a set of blinders which will effectively screen from one's awareness anything 'out of the ordinary.' It is then no longer a matter of doubting and distrusting such possibilities — the skeptical mind simply will not see them to begin with.

I must stress at this point that in using the term 'the skeptical mind' I am not implying that the mind is by nature skeptical. Quite to the contrary, I believe that the human mind is essentially open, trusting, and believing and that skepticism is a trait which most minds learn which then develops into an overall way of being in the world, a posture of skepticism, very much to the mind's detriment. Ultimately, skepticism is nothing but a bad habit, necessary in the way that bad habits are always necessary, but ultimately of no redeeming value to the human species.

To those who might argue that skepticism is vital to good science, I would answer that the very best scientists are children. During their first seven years, children are endlessly exploring, touching, tasting, and smelling life; testing, trying out, and learning, learning, learning, absorbing vast quantities of data. Their brains expand in great bursts of cellular growth, their eyes and ears wide open and accepting of everything. They steadily expand their understanding of the world, figuring out gravity and nourishment and human relationship, a breakthrough every hour, a Nobel prize worth of discovery every day — and they do it all, this prodigious learning, without the slightest trace of skepticism, without the slightest need for doubt, distrust, or disbelief. Rather, it is precisely the child's wide-eyed innocence and absolute believing which makes such learning possible.

Likewise, to those who would argue that a good, healthy dose of skepticism is necessary protection in this cruel-hearted world, helping us to 'wise up' and 'know better keeping us from buying all of the various Brooklyn Bridges that life offers, I would point out that it is informed intelligence that keeps us from such follies, not skepticism. It is quite possible to be wide-open and trusting of all that comes one's way and to still say no to those things which sound false or misleading. In fact, experienced con artists claim that the best marks are those who appear to be rigidly skeptical, as it is simply a matter of using their prejudices against them. A skeptical mind is invariably a closed mind, is invariably a crippled mind. Truly, skepticism is neither essential to the learning process nor essential to the intelligent negotiation of life, and is ultimately a serious hindrance to both. This has not, however, prevented the skeptical mind from becoming one of the most highly valued and firmly rooted traits of Western culture.

It has been through such a deeply rooted posture of skepticism that the Western world has always viewed the firewalk. To date there have been only a few scientific investigations of the firewalk, and what little literature there is on the subject is for the most part anecdotal in nature. There have been a small number of Western institutions that have gone off to various parts of the world to report on the subject, and they have always confirmed that it is in fact happening. Many such reports have included a theoretical explanation of the event, while on other occasions the investigators have admitted to being stymied by what they witnessed. Yet, despite the widely known and highly provocative nature of the firewalk, very little serious scientific investigation of the phenomenon has ever been pursued.

This is especially ironic since the scientific community has for so many years dismissed out of hand most, if not all, paranormal phenomena, such as the firewalk, for being anecdotal, unverifiable, and experimentally unrepeatable. Since the early 1980s there have been a number of firewalkers such as myself traveling about, in full public view, and essentially performing the same experiment over and over and over again, with the same basic results, while enthusiastically inviting full scientific scrutiny. Yet, as I say, the scientific community has for the most part been unwilling to approach the firewalk, unwilling to study it, and unwilling to learn from the data it presents.

Quite to the contrary, there has always been a rather studious avoidance of such a study. As Dr. Andrew Weil points out: "Hardly any physiologists or medical scientists have studied the phenomenon, and those who have written about it have mostly tried to make it appear unremarkable. Their aim is to defuse the challenge it poses to the materialistic conception of the human organism." Up until a few years ago the Western world, entrenched within its posture of skepticism, was content to simply say, "It's impossible; it's a trick, a sham; it can't be happening" and to let it go at that, enough said, no need for any further thought, just another instance of phenomenal flotsam from the uncivilized world. Over the years, however, the reports from well-respected observers have slowly gathered, saying that it is indeed happening, that the coals are very hot, the feet uncalloused and untreated, and that real people are really walking without burning. These reports, coupled with the recent well-publicized Firewalking in the United States, have made it impossible for the skeptics to simply deny the experience any longer. Yet this has not led, as one might have thought, to an eager rush to understand how it could be happening, but instead to the next defense of the skeptical mind: that of explaining it away.

'Explain-aways' begin to arise when the skeptical mind is finally willing to admit that firewalkers are in fact doing what they have always been claiming to do, that the coals are hot, and that the walking happens — for the most part without burning. Having acceded that much, the skeptical mind is usually not at all willing to then allow that this happens for the reasons that the firewalkers give: that it is a demonstration of some new evolutionary capacity of humankind, or of mind over matter, or of possession by God, or of connection to the spirit of the fire, or of any other such 'exotic' explanation. No, indeed not. At this point the skeptical mind says: "Enough is enough. While Firewalking may be fact, there must surely be, must surely be, some perfectly reasonable and totally physical explanation." That is, "Yes it is happening, but it is only something which looks difficult and really isn't, like an optical illusion, and here is an explanation. We've explained it away, and now back to serious matters." Unfortunately, as Dr. Weil puts it, the real appeal of all 'explain-aways' is that they avoid "any reference to the mind or the power of consciousness to modify physical reality."

I do not mean to suggest that science is some great and nasty monolith which has unfairly spurned the poor firewalk these many years. Rather, I am saying that science, in so thoroughly committing itself to the necessity of the posture of skepticism, has by definition greatly limited its field of enquiry and what is permitted to count as 'good science.' It has developed a knack for quickly explaining away any data which manage to slip through the perimeters of the current scientific paradigms. Harking back to Einstein's comment, "It was as if the earth was pulled out from under one," we can certainly understand the scientist's reluctance to allow human consciousness into the creative machinery of life; it does make for rather messy data!

The reigning 'explain-away' for years has been that Firewalking is a demonstration of something called the Leidenfrost effect. The Leidenfrost effect, named after the German scientist who first studied it, is what happens when you sprinkle water onto a very hot skillet, and, instead of immediately evaporating, it retains its shape and bounces around on the skillet for a few moments. This occurs when the heat is at just the right temperature to evaporate the bottom layer of the drop of water. The vapor then, in effect, becomes an insulating layer for the rest of the drop, protecting it from the heat. The bottom layer of water will continuously evaporate, while the rest of the drop above continues to feed water into it, until eventually the whole drop disappears. Extrapolating, rather extravagantly I think, from that piece of data, skeptics have reasoned that what happens at a firewalk is that participants get so nervous beforehand that their feet sweat and that, a la Leidenfrost, they are protected from the heat of the coals by a thin layer of insulating sweat.

Lately, a different 'explain-away' has been getting a lot of press. This argument draws a distinction between temperature and heat energy, pointing out that while two objects may be heated to the same temperature, they will contain different amounts of heat energy depending upon their differing masses, and that it is heat energy which causes burning, not temperature. As an example, imagine reaching into a hot oven to retrieve a baking pan. Though the air inside the oven and the baking pan are both heated to the same temperature, your hand will not be burned by the air because it is of such little mass that it holds very little heat energy. The pan, however, has a much higher mass, contains much more heat energy, and will burn you if you do not protect your hand. This theory continues by saying that burning embers contain very little mass in relation to the mass of human feet and thus cannot contain enough heat energy to do any damage.

A major refutation of these, and any other 'explain-aways' that the skeptical mind might come up with, comes from burn specialists. Those who have worked in hospital burn units for any appreciable length of time have invariably treated victims of similar fires, i.e., those who have stepped accidentally on campfires or upon stray barbeque coals, or have come into brief contact with fireplace logs. Such specialists are generally quite explicit about what ought to happen when a person steps on a fire of the sort that firewalkers use: instantaneous second- and/or third degree burning. This is expert testimony, coming from years of direct experience with different types of fire and its effect upon the human body. As I say, most of the doctors that I have spoken with have been quite clear that something extraordinary is happening at a firewalk.

I say 'most of the doctors' because I have known of a few burn specialists who have landed in the skeptic's camp, arguing that it is impossible to get badly burned at a firewalk. However, even the most sophisticated of arguments against the possibility of being burned by hot coals tends to break down when you talk to someone who has actually been burned, and has suffered greatly, from such an experience. I have had six campfire burn victims show up at my firewalks, each having once been very badly burned by a campfire. All of them successfully firewalked, and all were totally certain that the fire which had burned them earlier in life was much cooler, and their contact with it much shorter in duration. One was so impressed by his experience that he is now leading firewalks himself. Still, this is at best anecdotal evidence.

The main problem with any explanation of why 'you really can't get burned at a firewalk' is that people do in fact get burned at firewalks! As mentioned in the previous chapter, I have not come across a single reference to Firewalking anywhere that did not include some warning about the possibility of being burned. In other parts of the world, there are reports of people who have been crippled or fatally injured while Firewalking. While, to the best of my knowledge, no one has ever been so seriously burned in the United States, it is not at all uncommon for people to experience burning pain and to develop blisters as a result of Firewalking. I could safely say that all continuing firewalkers eventually get a nasty burn, and that at the end of any given firewalk there are at least a couple of walkers who are feeling pain. These are generally pretty benign affairs: a few sharply stinging spots on the bottoms of the feet, lasting for an hour or two, and then lingering as blisters on the sole of the foot for a few days, or at most a hobbled week or so. I know of several people who have gone to hospital emergency rooms in great pain after Firewalking, including three who were diagnosed by the receiving doctor as having severe second-degree bums, and of one man who spent a month on crutches after one of my firewalks. I have personally had a few rather long, painful nights myself, my foot in a bucket of cold water, when I wished very much that it was impossible to get burned at a firewalk!

But people do get burned, all the time. And while bums and blisters are a somewhat unpleasant aspect of firewalking that I often wish would go away, they do at the same time very clearly serve to validate the process. Having watched thousands of people go through the firewalk, and having followed up with many who were burned, and many more who were not, all that I have seen has led me to the very firm conclusion that burns are somehow caused from inside the person, rather than by the fire. Each time I lead a firewalk I use the same amount of the same kind of wood, and I burn it for the same length of time, raking it into a path of the same dimensions, meticulously preparing it in the same way. And yet, from firewalk to firewalk, from experiment to experiment, sometimes there are burns, and sometimes there are not. The fire has burned as a constant, unchanging stimulus. The only changing factor has been the psycho-emotional state of the individual walkers.

Even more compelling is the testimony of experienced walkers, such as myself. To have walked on fire a dozen or more times, to have had the experience on some nights of being able to do just about anything with the fire — dancing, slow dancing, standing still, laughing through it all and feeling no heat whatsoever — and then to stand in front of another fire and hear a voice inside screaming "not tonight!" and sure enough, with the first step forward, to experience a burst of heat and a piercing pain: having gone through this more than a few times, and swapped notes with others who have done likewise, I am firmly convinced that the primary cause of burning at a firewalk is the consciousness of the individual walker, in combination with the collective consciousness of the entire group involved.

The testimony of burn specialists, combined with the continuing experience of thousands and thousands of firewalkers, would seem to present a good case for the basic premise of firewalking: that a fire which would ordinarily burn does not, and that human consciousness is a primary causative factor for this phenomenon. Yet, even with such evidence, most skeptics, firmly committed as they are to a posture of doubt, distrust, and disbelief, will continue to generate 'explain-aways' I have watched the minds of some people, just minutes after firewalking, start sending up the disclaimers: "That fire didn't seem so hot," "It was only a few steps," "It was only a few seconds," "We walked so fast," "If everyone did it that must prove you can't get burned." This no longer surprises me, for it has been my experience that most if not all of us will have to wrestle through such moments of skepticism, such dark nights of the soul, while our minds scramble to invalidate the simple miracle of the firewalk.

Indeed, I find it difficult to even write the word 'miracle,' much less announce that I will be performing one with twenty other people next Friday night at 10 pm! Presumptuous, to say the least, with an unhealthy dose of hubris. And yet, looking the word 'miracle' up in the dictionary, I find it defined as "an event in the physical world that surpasses all known human or natural powers and is ascribed to a divine source." Which is exactly what a firewalk is.

Let's divide this definition into three parts. First, a firewalk is certainly an event in the physical world. These are real feet stepping onto real fire without really burning. It is most definitely not a case of mass hypnosis or shared hallucination or any such thing.

Second, it is an event which surpasses all known human or natural powers. The emphasis here is on the word 'known,' meaning that while firewalking is beyond our current understanding of human or natural powers, it is by no means unknowable. Very often the vehemence and, at times, the outright anger with which skeptics view events like firewalking stems from the mistaken belief that such paranormal phenomena discount the laws of nature, or that they deny the fact that we do live in an orderly universe which can be systematically studied and understood. The firewalk can seem like a very large slap in the face to those whose lives are devoted to such study, both contradicting and threatening their life works, that they will typically react by arguing vigorously against its possibility.

But firewalking is not, by any means or manner of reckoning, a refutation of the laws of physics or a denial that there is an underlying order to this universe which can be systematically understood. It is merely a firm reminder that there are still large gaps in our knowledge, that our minds must remain relentlessly open to new learnings, and that our understanding must be expected and permitted to grow. Simply consider the lessons that Copernicus, Galileo, Columbus, and Einstein brought to the world: each introduced radical new concepts that were contradictory to the known laws of nature in their time; each met with hostile skepticism; and each, ultimately, ushered in a fresh new wave of understanding which encompassed and went beyond all that was known before. In like manner, the firewalk is a teaching which goes against our current understanding and which promises to deliver several important insights into the workings of the world. It only remains for us to have the courage and the willingness to truly look, listen, and learn.

The third part of the definition of a miracle is that it is an event which is ascribed to a divine source. Looking further through the dictionary, we find that 'divine' is defined as 'God-like,' and 'God' is defined as 'the creator.' Given the basic premise of the firewalk, as introduced in Chapter 2 — that there is an ongoing co-creative process, or divine intelligence, which determines the way that the world is, the very fabric of reality, and the laws which govern it; that each of us is a vital and integral part of that process; and that all human beings are potentially co-creators of this world — then it follows that the firewalk may indeed be ascribed to a divine source, which is ourselves!

Harumph and pshaw, yikes and arrgh, the textbook skeptic reels away from this suggestion that we are divine, literally feels revulsion towards such a notion, turns red in the face, grits teeth and clenches fists, screams of pantheism and paganism, of witchcraft and heresy; or chuckles wryly at such misinformed romanticism, lightly dismissing the very idea as naive, primitive, and sadly innocent.

We have now arrived at the root of the skeptical mind, at the very source of all the skepticism that the world has ever known and experienced. For behind all of the doubting, all of the distrusting, and all of the disbelieving of the posture of skepticism, lies this essential doubt, this essential distrust, this essential disbelief in ourselves as co-creators, in our connection to the primary creative forces of this world. The basic denial of our true divine nature becomes a denial of all of life. The basic stance of skepticism taken toward our own true role as co-creators becomes an ingrained habit of skepticism which colors every other aspect of our lives.

Simply consider this: if our basic premise is correct — that we contribute to the creation of reality through our thoughts and feelings — and we disagree, saying that our thoughts do not have creative impact and that our feelings do not have creative impact, then it will follow, quite ironically, that our thoughts and feelings will not have creative power and we will be quite right in proclaiming our lack of divinity. This is the original self-fulfilling prophecy (actually it is a self-frustrating prophecy), the catch-22 of all catch-22s. The more fervently we argue against our co-creative powers, the more surely we empower that reality. The more clever and complete our proof that we are not divine by nature, the more evidence we will be able to find to support our lack of divinity. As Richard Bach puts it so concisely in Illusions: "Argue for your limitations and sure enough, they're yours." To which we might add: "The more clever and determined your argument, the more limited you will be." And then a corollary: "Argue for your greatness and that too shall be yours."

Of course, it is quite true that as we look out at the world we see very little evidence of such greatness, very little evidence of humankind's divine nature, very little evidence that human beings somehow contribute to the creation of the external world through the movement of their internal processes. We must constantly remember that arguing from past cases has little relevance during evolutionary leaps. Caterpillars cannot conceive of flying; apes cannot conceive of conceiving. Like a child-king, humanity has long lived with the promise of power while being too young, too immature, too unevolved, to truly fulfill that promise. We have had our many masters, our Christs and Buddhas, the evolutionary mutants, living examples of our true nature, breathing reminders of our ultimate potential, always demonstrating the possible while saying, "You can do this too." That we have as yet failed to realize our full potential can be an indictment of humanity or a promise for the future. I am inclined toward the latter view and feel that the firewalk's present-day arrival in the land of skepticism suggests that we may be ready at last to fully embrace our true nature.

Every firewalker is saying about himself or herself: There is an ongoing, co-creative process which determines the very fabric of reality and the laws which govern it and I, as a conscious human being, am an integral part of that process; there is a divine, creative energy pulsing through all of this universe and I, as a conscious, evolutionary human, am the living embodiment of that divine energy. As we, individually and collectively, begin to truly have faith (which equals belief without proof, the very opposite of skepticism) in this possibility; as we truly honor our own divinity; as we truly believe in the creative impact that we have upon our world; as we take full responsibility for our vital roles as co-creators; as we finally and completely lift the veils of skepticism and doubt to behold the magical child, the wondrous, ancient, and eternal soul, the higher self, the holy one, the Godhead, the Christ, as we look upon ourselves and say, "Yes, amen, I am that I AM, so be it!"; then, by reflection, we have also affirmed this for our entire world. We can then experience a co-creative energy which is flowing through each of us, through all people, linking all of humanity together as one, and deeply and profoundly connecting us to the living consciousness of this planet.

Thus is our age-old prophecy and dream of heaven on Earth, of one peaceful world, made manifest. One who experiences that all of life is divinely connected finds it impossible to ever knowingly harm another; finds oneself, indeed, compelled toward a life of good and harmonious thoughts, words, and deeds. It is the transformation of our entire planet, and it begins with each of us looking inside and saying, "Yes, I am divine, I am co-creator of this world; my every conscious momentmatters, deeply, fully, profoundly."

The skeptical mind will point to the world as it is, saying, "Read the papers, watch the six o'clock news, observe the hopelessness, the helplessness, the despair, the confusion, the stupid depravity of our race, Where is the divine, where are these promised Gods, what is this foolishness!?" This is like the scientist removing a fish from water to study it upon a laboratory table for several hours until it is proven that fish can't exist because the damn thing died! Likewise, in allowing and strongly investing in a deeply-ingrained and profoundly rooted atmosphere of skeptical doubt, distrust, and disbelief, we have created an environment which is poisonous to the human spirit, which is openly hostile to our divine nature, and which works totally against the realization of our greatest dreams and most inspired possibilities. Indeed, the term 'healthy skepticism' is an outright lie, and could not be further from the truth, for skepticism always poisons, always attacks, always belittles, always defeats. All skepticism is by nature and definition unhealthy, for it begins with the denial of the essential human spirit, a denial which tragically prevents that spirit from coming forth in the world. Far from protecting, such chronic skepticism stifles and suffocates the body, narrows the vision, depresses the mind, inhibits relationship, and argues feverishly, and oh so cleverly, against the very possibility of embodied spirit, against the very precious possibility that we are each co-creators of this life.

Still, it must be conceded that all of these words are bound to fall like so much water on the rock-hard logic of the skeptical mind. We will probably never manage to completely convince the skeptical mind of the essential goodness of humanity, nor of its essential divine nature, nor of its vast reservoirs of untapped creative potential. The forever self-defeating nature of the skeptical mind is such that it cannot see beyond the created limitations of its own presumptions. Thus, we could do happy cartwheels through the hottest of fires (and have), laughing all the while, and the skeptical mind will immediately explain it all away, without considering for even the briefest moment that it might be true, that there might be a very new and different way of looking at the world. And, if we were then to point out the explicitly suicidal nature of such arguments, the skeptical mind would only dig in deeper still, threatened and offended and ever more determined to put an end to such nonsense. "Argue for your limitations and they're yours," warned a reluctant messiah. Sadly, the skeptic argues on, bound and determined to be dead right.

There is the story of a monkey who saw a caged bird and reached through the bars of the cage to grab it, thinking of dinner. Once having grasped the bird, however, his hand became too large to remove through the narrow bars. Though freedom lay in simply releasing the bird, the monkey just could not let go of something which had once seemed so important, and thus eventually died, still clinging to the bird.

Let us not also perish while clinging to a vision of ourselves which is negative, limiting, and stuck in the past. Our greatest teachers have told us that entering into the new world will require the easy innocence and open faith of a child. The evolutionary leap and the leap of faith are one and the same: a courageous leap beyond the narrow bars of skepticism and into a new world of abiding trust and unshakable belief in the divine nature of humankind. It is a leap which each of us must take individually, deeply affirming our divine purpose, acknowledging responsibility for our role as conscious participants in the evolutionary process, and accepting and gladly exercising our ability to positively impact our world. Slowly but surely an atmosphere of openness, faith, trust, and belief will be created, an atmosphere which will affirm, nurture, and support the very best that we could become, the very best of all possible worlds.

Firewalk Breakthrough March 10th (Near San Diego)

Rare opportunity with Firewalk Leader from Hawaii

 Vincent J Kellsey, Firewalk Leader from Hawaii and Asia, is offering a rare Firewalk for the San Diego community March 10th, 2012. Vincent led a group almost three years ago at the Kona Kai Resort on San Diego Bay for a fantastic experience. The video above was from the event. Experience the Firewalk San Diego, as seen on Oprah last month.

  • Are you ready for a new start?
  • Learn how to conquer your fears.
  • Get ready to change your life for ever!

Join Us: Saturday, March 10th, 2012 Time: 4-8pm Location: Ramona, CA (see map) Early Bird: $75 (by Wednesday, March 7th @ midnight) Regular Tuition: $125 / individual or $200 / pair Reviewers: $45 (reduced rate if previously firewalked with Vincent J Kellsey or Julian Bergquist) Contact: Contact Julian (619-573-6638) or Vincent (619-677-9475) regarding questions or group rate.

Join Us March 10th (Discount until March 7th) 1 Person – $75 (by March 7th)2 for 1 – $125 (by March 7th)

Michael McDermott Obituary (Died Nov 17th, 2009

Just found out that one of my two Firewalk Teachers died on November 17th, 2009 of pancreatic cancer.

Here is the poem they read at his memorial.

THE FINAL FLIGHT Don’t grieve for me, for now i’m free, i’m following the path god laid for me. I took his hand when I heard his call, I turned my back and left it all. I could not stay another day, to laugh, to love, to work, to play. Tasks left undone must stay that way. I’ve found that peace at the end of the day. If my parting has left a void, then fill it with remembered joy. A friendship shared, a laugh, a kiss, Ah, yes,these things too I will miss. Be not burdened with times of sorrow, I wish you the sunshine of tomorrow. My life’s been full, I savored much, good friends, good times, a loved one’touch. Perhaps my time seemed all to breif, Don’t lengthen it now with undue greif. Lift up your heart and share with me, God wanted me now, He set me free.

AUTHER: UNKNOWN

San Diego’s Empowerment Day (March 21st, 2010)

In many cultures around the world, the entire community Firewalks once a year as an annual celebration of renewal and empowerment.

The People of San Diego will have the same opportunity to walk on a bed of hot coals this March 21st, 2010.

Have you heard about Firewalking at personal growth seminars and corporate training events? This style of Firewalking training is less than 30 years old and an amazing technique to help people wake up to their full potential. (We put on those same type of events, too).

Firewalking as a cultural and spiritual event has existed for thousands of years. This Firewalk is in the spirit of these traditions, specifically the Huna “Umu Ki” Ceremony. This is not a seminar, rather a community celebration. People from all walks of life are invited to this no matter what their background, or what their dealing with in life. Come have fun, connect with other like minded people, and be empowered. It is only through our affiliation and relationship with our community or tribe that we find true power.

The timing of this Firewalk celebration, just after the Vernal Equinox and the 1st day of Spring, marks the the “New Year,” in both the Persian and Huna communities.

A potluck will be earlier in the day, followed by a Firewalk in the evening.

The suggested donation is $20 per person to help with costs. (You can bring your children if they are responsible and well behaved) 

Date: Sunday March 21st, 2010

Time:

Gathering/Potluck: 5-6pm
Firewalk Ceremony: 6-9:30pm

Location:

Vista, CA

Firewalking for the New Years (Jan 9th, 2010)

FIREWALK TO KICK OFF THE NEXT DECADE WITH A RUSH!

Do you remember the excitement and anticipation 10 years ago at the dawning of the new millennium 2000? Are you satisfied with where you are now and what you have accomplished in that time. Don’t give up on your dreams; get back on track for the next decade.

January 9th, 2010 could be the first day of the next 10 years of your life.

“Relaunch your business and life with the power, focus, leadership and resources required to create the dream and success you want for your life!”

The Firewalk Experience will help break through the obstacles that have you stuck and tolerating the way things are. This new found freedom will empower you to accomplish what was previously stuck and create what was once out of reach

Whether you believe in New Years Resolutions or not, this event will empower whatever you want to accomplish now.

The Firewalking Experience

(THIS FIREWALKING IS NOW PAST)

Date: Sat, January 9th, 2010
Time: 4-8pm
Location: Vista, CA

Costs: $100

Note to the Firewalker’s Club: If you have firewalked with me before, please contact me for reduced rate to Firewalk again.

Facilitators: Julian Bergquist

Inspiration to Attend Firewalk

7 Reasons why People Firewalk

Watch the Firewalk Video

Firewalking Cartoon from 1986 – “Swamis at the Picnic”

Entrepreneurs, Face Your Fears (Slideshow)

Dancing with the Fire – Chapter 1a

Dancing with the Fire

by Michael Sky

Get PDF download

Table of Contents

FIRST STEPS
By consciously manipulating whether a particle, such as a protein molecule in a neural membrane, is a wave or not, I expect that we will be able to change our bodies at will. I expect that with that gain in sensitivity and consciousness
new messages will be received and our evolution will be speeded up so fast that it will make our heads spin. Perhaps we will be able to heal ourselves simply by thinking positively
about ourselves. Perhaps we will be able to regenerate new limbs, increase our intelligence, and even live for 500 years or more.
If we can learn to live together as a species, we will not just survive this world, we will create it as well as other worlds beyond our present dreams. The intelligence of the body quantum is absolutely unlimited.1
Fred Alan Wolf
Alice laughed. “There’s no use trying,” she said, “one can’t believe impossible things.”
“I dare say you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was your age I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”2
Lewis Carroll
I always knew that somehow, someday, I would walk on fire. I found myself thinking about firewalking from time to time,
6 • Dancing With the Fire
looking for `firewalk’ in the indexes of likely books, and trying to imagine what it must feel like to place my bare feet on a bed of glowing, red, hot embers and through whatever magic it entails, not to burn.
Living in Boston, I could only assume that my firewalking would have to wait until I traveled off to some exotic locale where such irrational activities passed for normal. Meanwhile, the same part of me that felt attracted to firewalking had also undertaken an exploration of unconventional healing practices. This eventually
led me to teaching about such things, which in turn led me to regularly telling small groups of people about firewalking and what I saw as its special lessons. I had come to view firewalking as a graphic example of how the mind and body might better interact, and as a way of inspiring the belief in and pursuit of human
potential. And, I suppose, talking about firewalking was a sensible alternative to actually doing it.
In early 1984, I was leading a weekend workshop and feeling
frustrated at the end of the first day. I thought to myself that if I could light a candle in the middle of my talk and hold my hand in the flame, unburning, this would prove my assertions and catalyze
the workshop experience. That evening a good friend called and asked if I had seen the latest issue of “New Age Journal,” for, believe it or not, someone out in California (where else?) was leading people through firewalks.
Over the next few days, I read that article a dozen times, my mind spinning around and around its implications, for this man named Tolly Burkan totally upset my theories and expectations.
Where I had always assumed that only the high adepts of advanced metaphysical practices could walk on fire, Tolly was taking groups of average Americans, unscreened and unprepared, and successfully leading them across the coals in just four hours. As far as I could glean from the article, his techniques were unbelievably
simple.
I sent away for more information. When I received his itinerary,
it included a flyer announcing his first firewalking instrucFirst
Steps • 7
tors’ training, upcoming in May. While the flyer listed as a prerequisite
that participants must already have walked on fire, I felt my calling, and applied anyway. They accepted me.
*******
Tolly Burkan and his wife Peggy Dylan wanted to teach us every aspect of successfully leading firewalks. Since their own approach had been to travel around from place to place, building fires wherever they could, our three-week training would consist primarily of ten public firewalks with a lot of traveling in between, so that we would get a taste of life on the road. Thus, although our group of ten students came together in Sacramento, we spent our initial two days journeying in a motorhome up to Seattle for our first firewalk. This two-day waiting period actually helped me, for I could see little difference between this group of people—all of whom had already walked on fire—and myself. I did not feel like their spiritual or psychological inferior, and I could thus reasonably
expect to do as well as they.
Alas, on the day of my first walk, all reason and logic abandoned
me. As the day wore on (firewalks always happen at night, which really means that they happen for an entire day) my body became uncharacteristically tense; a low level anxiety took over and gripped me. I was not hungry and I did not feel like talking. I kept thinking of the thousands of people who had already done this. I kept looking at my fellow trainees and seeing of our essential
sameness. My mind would be somewhat reassured, but my body grew tenser still.
Midday they showed us a brief news clip of Tolly walking across an amazingly hot-looking bed of coals, and my stomach lurched in protest. I felt as if I had just witnessed an accident victim sprawled bloody across the pavement. I continued to fast and I talked even less. In a notebook I wrote, “I feel like I’m in an airplane, about to parachute into enemy territory.”
8 • Dancing With the Fire
At this point, I felt twisted by a combination of fears. I worried that I would severely injure myself. Even worse, I might chicken out, a horrendous thought given the time, expense, and self-esteem I had committed to becoming an instructor. Or, worst of all, I might walk on fire, fail painfully, and limp home a crippled
and embarrassed wreck. As evening approached, I found my mind less able to issue up reassurance, and more focused on my fears. My body grew tenser still.
Finally, the workshop began. Fifty or so people gathered, mostly looking as if they had just been told they had four hours to live. Tolly had an intense, yet entertaining style. Working the crowd, he first terrified us with what could go wrong, and then exploded the tension with his wonderful sense of humor. After an hour or so, we went outside and together constructed a large pile of wood, kindling, and newspaper. Then we circled about it, holding hands, while Tolly doused it with a gallon of kerosene and set it aflame. In moments, the fire blasted us with such heat that everyone took two steps away from the scattering sparks and billowing smoke. Definitely not a summer-camp fire, nor even a homecoming bonfire. We beheld an inferno, and if it was designed
to frighten, it succeeded.
Back inside we went, and for the next two hours Tolly prepared
us for walking. I remember agreeing with most all that he said, while at the same time feeling concerned that I did not really hear anything new. Clearly, I had hoped for some powerful technique
or super meditation that would change me from “one who burns” into “one who doesn’t burn” but as time passed I felt distinctly
unchanged and increasingly vulnerable. Things gradually took on a surreal air. It felt as if we were all doing drugs together or, again, as if we were all in a plane behind enemy lines, lost in our separate thoughts, contemplating doom, barely breathing.
Finally, the time came. We returned to the fire, which had calmed somewhat into a large pile of glowing embers and smoldering
hunks of wood. We held hands, chanting softly as Tolly took a heavy metal rake and carefully spread the coals into a path
First Steps • 9
some twelve-feet long and six-feet wide. With each pass of the rake, sparks flew off in every direction and what little breath we had left became filled with smoke. The heat was still so intense that people moved away from rather than toward the fire, its red-orange glow pulsing, menacing, yet oddly inviting. My mind finally emptied and quieted; I surrendered to the singing and felt transfixed by the fire. My body trembled out of control, as if it were somehow freezing on this warm spring evening. I could feel through their hands the similar shaking of those on either side of me.
Tolly laid down the rake, stepped up to the fiery path, and, with just the briefest pause, walked quickly across the coals. I registered that he took six steps and that he seemed okay, when suddenly another person walked across, and then another. I noticed
my head shaking, side to side, as I watched feet sinking down into glowing, red, hot coals. People continued walking, one after another, and our singing steadily picked up, becoming
more excited, more vibrant. My mind went blank, while my feet, acting on their own, carried me slowly toward the top of the path. My trembling increased and I sang even louder. Suddenly, I was at the top of the path. Moments later I moved—seven quick steps—I had walked on fire!
I felt overwhelmed with joy and found myself applauding
each succeeding walker. The energy between us continued to rise, higher and higher, becoming more and more excited. It was all so beautifully stunning—the fire, the circle, the singing, the stars, the moon—and the wonderful feeling of grass beneath my happy feet. At last a strong shout of joy exploded through the group. Some people hugged, everyone laughed, and then slowly we all filtered back inside.
The funeral parlor had transformed into a circus. A tangible
wave of relief rippled through a room filled with happy chatter and excited giggles. We took some time for sharing our experiences, and miracle stories abounded. I became aware of a
10 • Dancing With the Fire
spot on my left foot that felt a little hot, just slightly painful. Some other walkers seemed distressed also, including a fellow trainee who would turn out to have several bad blisters.
Later, as I called home to assure my wife and friends that I had survived it, feet intact, I began to feel a little let down. Obviously
it had been a long, exhausting day. Somehow I had expected
more difficulty; it just seemed too easy. I mean, if anyone could do this, then. . . .
*******
My second walk came two nights later at the same location.
I collected the release forms that night as people entered the room, and felt myself tense slightly as a pretty young woman
named Kathy3 arrived, moving slowly on a pair of crutches. I would only find out later that Kathy was a social worker for handicapped rights, that she worked in her spare time on a suicide
hot-line, and that she had a bumper sticker shouting “Expect A Miracle,” but I could tell the moment I saw her that she was a determined and self-sufficient woman who was working hard to overcome the limitations in her life.
As I watched her throughout the evening, it became apparent
to me that Kathy had come to walk on fire. So I worried when, just before going out to the fire, her husband asked if people with cerebral palsy should firewalk and Tolly recommended against it. I sensed that Kathy did not take kindly to, nor listen to, people telling her what she could not do.
For myself, this second walk was much the same as the first, though slightly colored with the memory of pain. I felt the same tension throughout my body and the body of the group. The fire seemed just as hot, and the path Tolly raked out looked a tad longer. My mind was every bit as incredulous when the walking began, and I experienced the same sense of shifting to a magical, otherworldly reality. I did manage, however, to walk before most
First Steps • 11
everyone else, and thus felt double elation as I reached the other side, unburned.
At some point Kathy started moving toward the fire, walking
on her crutches really, her legs and feet stiffly dragging behind.
The electrical tension in the circle increased tenfold. Ever so slowly she moved, shuffling into and through the fire, so slowly that at times she seemed stationary, up to her ankles in glowing embers. Each step was a major victory, first carrying her into the heart of the fire, and then slowly carrying her out toward safety. Just at the end of the path she stopped, suddenly, and in the next moment she started screaming.
We carried her immediately from the fire and into the house, and later to a hospital, both feet severely burned, the skin already blistering and peeling. Somehow the firewalk continued, as one crazy person stepped forward in the midst of the terror and started the flow of walkers again. The mood afterwards was subdued, however, as we had little energy for celebration given what we had witnessed. I remember feeling torn. On the one hand, I felt finished with firewalking, and wanted never to take part in such a tragedy again. At the same time, I kept trying to believe that things do happen for good reason and that Kathy’s experience might become an important contribution to my understanding
of firewalking.
Kathy would later say that she had been doing fine, feeling neither pain nor the slightest heat, all of the way to that final step. Then she looked down, and the image of her feet buried in burning
embers overwhelmed her, causing her to think she was doing the impossible and to hear her lifelong admonishments: “You can’t. You’re unable to. You mustn’t.” At this point she began to burn. She asked that we not feel sorry for her or responsible for her actions, and she demonstrated her personal power by healing
in a fraction of the time that her doctors had predicted. She felt truly grateful for the whole experience and stressed that she had in fact walked on fire successfully for all but one step.
12 • Dancing With the Fire
A newspaper reporter present that night had timed the walkers
with a stopwatch. He said the average walker took between a second and a half to two seconds to get across the coals and that Kathy had been on them for a full seven seconds before she screamed. So she had indeed firewalked the equivalent of some fifty feet (at that time, a Guinness world record) without burning, and without even lifting her feet out of the fire. Through her extraordinary
courage, Kathy had demonstrated what I would come to see as the two primary lessons of firewalking: yes, we can walk through extreme heat without burning; and yes, the fire is hot, we can get burned, and whether we burn or not depends more on our state of mind than on how we walk.
I would experience many other “firsts” during the remainder
of my training. One night I had my first “cold” walk: I walked through the coals and not only did I not feel any heat, I actually felt cold—an incredible sensation—as if I were walking through snow. The next night I had my first real burn, a screeching pain that sent me to bed with my foot wrapped in a cold, wet towel, seriously debating the value of continued firewalking. I also parachuted
out of my first airplane, sat through my first sweat lodge (another ancient ritual), and rappelled down my first rock face, as Tolly and Peggy found different ways to lead us through the lessons of the firewalk. Most importantly to me, one night I chose to walk first—to offer the final words to the group, to prepare the coals, and then to initiate and model the experience by going first. That night went so well I felt confident that I could create firewalks on my own. I felt ready, and excited, to go home and get started.
*******
It began raining early in the morning of Memorial Day that year, and the rain kept up through most of the day. My wife Penny and I were living with two friends in a suburban neighborhood in Concord, just west of Boston. We planned to have the firewalk on
First Steps • 13
our front lawn. We called the local fire department and told them we were having a holiday cookout with an Hawaiian luau-style wood fire. I began to see the rain as a plus, as it would keep our neighbors indoors. I went to the supermarket and bought a case of charcoal lighter, if necessary to keep the fire going.
For the rest of the day we all just sat around the house, shut in by the rain, and quietly freaked out. Someone would stare into a book for ten minutes without registering a word. Or someone
would put water on to boil and then stand empty-headed before the tea cabinet trying to remember why. We paced a lot, moving from one room to another with no discernable purpose. We managed some courageous gallows humor, which sometimes worked a giggling release and other times only served to deepen the gloom.
Our good friend Jonathon just happened to show up that afternoon, in town for the holiday. Jonathon is an engineer and the most logical, rational, linear, left-brain I have ever known. When I told him our plans for the evening, he at first became excited, for he only heard the part about my demonstrating the walk. As I slowly made it clear to him that everyone might walk on fire, his eyes bugged out and he started looking for the exit. I asked if he would like to serve as firetender, staying outside and keeping the fire going for us while we were inside preparing to walk. He gladly said yes, happy that he could take part and witness
the walk without feeling compelled to do something so utterly
outrageous.
Evening finally arrived, as did my friends. Once again I found myself sitting in a roomful of people waiting to have root canals without anesthesia. However, this time there was no one present (myself included) who really knew that it would all work out. Fear feeds on fear. If you look to your old friend for reassurance
and instead see fear in his eyes, you will tend to feel frightened,
which he will spot in your eyes, further frightening him, which further frightens you, which further frightens him . . . and so it went.
14 • Dancing With the Fire
By this time I had come to understand two basic facts about people that almost always hold true at the start of a firewalk. First, we feel disinclined to intentionally move in the direction of pain, unless we have clear social approval, as, for instance, in the case of athletes or dancers. While we might understand and even applaud
the marathon runner’s contorted features and occasional shin splints, we consider it quite stupid to intentionally step on a fire and then suffer injury. Second, we have a deep, cellular, instinctive
relationship to fire and its burning nature: virtually every life-form on this planet knows better than to move in the direction
of fire, so again, anyone foolish enough to even consider such a practice probably deserves any resulting pain.
Yet my friends and I had our reasons, strong enough to carry
us forward in the presence of our doubts and fears, for there we were. Despite a clumsy and halting presentation on my part, the evening progressed and our moment with the fire approached. I told them to take a little break while I went outside to see how the fire had managed in the rain. I found Jonathon keeping his lonely vigil, umbrella overhead, and I took a rake and poked clinically through the fire, attempting to determine whether we had enough coals to do the walk. I felt suddenly blasted with the heat (the fire had done quite well in the rain), with the fire’s electric, glowing, orange burst of energy, and my stomach seized up with the undeniable
danger of our enterprise. I took a deep breath, put on a happy face, and went slowly back inside, attempting to emanate all-knowing reassurance. My friends later said that I was white with terror.
We proceeded out to the fire. The rain had lightened to a soft and cooling presence, and a wonderful blessing and balance for our undertaking. We formed a circle, holding hands, except for Jonathon, who stood dry and sensible beneath his umbrella. The singing began. I took the rake and began spreading the coals: all this earth is sacred, every step we take, all this life is sacred, every step we take. As the fiery carpet first spread out before them, I heard a tangible group gasp. Nothing I had said could
First Steps • 15
have prepared them for the intensity of the heat, for the explosion of sparks and smoke, for the solid red-orange sheet of pulsing embers. Minds boggled, bodies trembled, and our singing grew louder, viscerally driven.
I stood before the coals, thinking: “Either it works, or it doesn’t, here goes….” I walked across, no problem! I was then stunned to see one friend following immediately after, and then another, and another. Whereas the walks during my training had all progressed slowly, half of our group had walked in the first thirty seconds. Whether they had an extreme desire to walk on fire, or an extreme desire to be finished with walking on fire, they were all smiling, and in the space of a minute we had shifted from unthinking terror to exhilarating joy.
I looked over to Penny, who had not yet walked and who was visibly shaking. I had had a dream just before returning home in which Penny had stepped forward and burst into flames. I was hoping that wouldn’t happen. For her part, she had always steadfastly
maintained that firewalking was not her sort of thing at all, and that if her husband hadn’t had the temerity to land one in her own front yard she might have forever remained among the blissfully uninitiated. But there it was, and walk she did, smiling brightly all the way into my waiting arms.
We had by then reached the magical shift that most firewalks
achieve: the fire had become friendly and inviting, the singing
inspired, and the group intensely bonded, with a strong sense that anything was possible. As if to affirm it all and top it with a final encore, Jonathon stepped up to the fire, umbrella still raised overhead, and strolled across the coals with wonderful aplomb, the perfect ending to an unforgettable dance. We were well on our way to an adventure that, years later, continues to provide a wealth of such moments.

FIRST STEPS

By consciously manipulating whether a particle, such as a protein molecule in a neural membrane, is a wave or not, I expect that we will be able to change our bodies at will. I expect that with that gain in sensitivity and consciousness new messages will be received and our evolution will be speeded up so fast that it will make our heads spin. Perhaps we will be able to heal ourselves simply by thinking positively about ourselves. Perhaps we will be able to regenerate new limbs, increase our intelligence, and even live for 500 years or more. If we can learn to live together as a species, we will not just survive this world, we will create it as well as other worlds beyond our present dreams. The intelligence of the body quantum is absolutely unlimited.1

Fred Alan Wolf

Alice laughed. “There’s no use trying,” she said, “one can’t believe impossible things.”

“I dare say you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was your age I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”2

Lewis Carroll

I always knew that somehow, someday, I would walk on fire. I found myself thinking about firewalking from time to time, looking for `firewalk’ in the indexes of likely books, and trying to imagine what it must feel like to place my bare feet on a bed of glowing, red, hot embers and through whatever magic it entails, not to burn.

Living in Boston, I could only assume that my firewalking would have to wait until I traveled off to some exotic locale where such irrational activities passed for normal. Meanwhile, the same part of me that felt attracted to firewalking had also undertaken an exploration of unconventional healing practices. This eventually led me to teaching about such things, which in turn led me to regularly telling small groups of people about firewalking and what I saw as its special lessons. I had come to view firewalking as a graphic example of how the mind and body might better interact, and as a way of inspiring the belief in and pursuit of human potential. And, I suppose, talking about firewalking was a sensible alternative to actually doing it.

In early 1984, I was leading a weekend workshop and feeling frustrated at the end of the first day. I thought to myself that if I could light a candle in the middle of my talk and hold my hand in the flame, unburning, this would prove my assertions and catalyze the workshop experience. That evening a good friend called and asked if I had seen the latest issue of “New Age Journal,” for, believe it or not, someone out in California (where else?) was leading people through firewalk.

Over the next few days, I read that article a dozen times, my mind spinning around and around its implications, for this man named Tolly Burkan totally upset my theories and expectations. Where I had always assumed that only the high adepts of advanced metaphysical practices could walk on fire, Tolly was taking groups of average Americans, unscreened and unprepared, and successfully leading them across the coals in just four hours. As far as I could glean from the article, his techniques were unbelievably simple.

I sent away for more information. When I received his itinerary, it included a flyer announcing his first firewalking instructors’ training, upcoming in May. While the flyer listed as a prerequisite that participants must already have walked on fire, I felt my calling, and applied anyway. They accepted me.