Staying at this ashram, I really have lost sense of time.

Amongst the chaos and craziness of India, it’s a calm tranquil oasis. I’d always been a bit intimidated by the notion of an ashram. The word conjured images of spartan places of hardship and discipline. But I could not have been more wrong.

This ashram is set in immaculate gardens, full of shimmering white statues of gods and goddesses. There is an easy going air about the place – a warmth and generosity of spirit that immediately presses a re-set button deep inside you. bringing you back to your default humanistic state of kindness and compassion.

Here are some pictures – including some shots of our room, overlooking the Ganges…

I’d also always been intimidated by the level of yoga I thought would be taught at these retreats – but filming a class this morning, I saw that it was easily achievable, even for beginners. There’s probably an elite class somewhere indoors which I haven’t yet seen, where you’re taught how to turn yourself into a pipe cleaner.

My routine while here has been to get up before sunrise so that I can shoot in pre-dawn and sunrise light – then by 8:30am the light has become too harsh so I have breakfast in a small cafe near the ashram. Jennifer and I have an Indian breakfast of simple dhal, curd, and freshly cooked roti. With masala tea. Beautiful. All for 100 rupees, which is $2.

Today though was really about the interview with Swamiji Chidanand Saraswati. He’s regarded in India as a living saint. And having met him now a few times, there’s no doubt that he is a true holy man and spiritual leader. The interview was set for 12pm – but midday came and went, and still we waited. At 1:45pm the beautiful Sadhvuji came out to say that Swamiji had reluctantly had to cancel, because he’s traveling overseas tomorrow and was overwhelmed with work.

I was disappointed of course, because the interview would have been the highlight of the trip so far – however Sadhvuji told us he will be in Delhi second week of October, where he’s to attend an event to celebrate the publication of a six million word encyclopaedia on Hinduism, which is a pet project that he’s brought to fruition. Sadhvuji said we I could interview him after that.

It means changing flights and accommodation and shifting things around in my schedule, but I feel strongly that this interview will be very important for the film – and not only that, but there might be other people at this event that could be worth interviewing.

Including possibly the Dalai Lama.

Interestingly, I received an email today as well to say that the Dalai Lama has had to leave Dharamsala, and won’t be back until later in the month. But he could be at this Hindu event, where he might be more accessible. His personal secretary, whom I’m liaising with, is being very protective of His Holiness, which is perfectly understandable. He’s an elderly and venerable man – one of the great leaders of the world – and it’s very presumptuous of me to believe I could get an interview with Him.

But equally, I believe very strongly that this film is going to have an impact – a big impact – throughout the western world, and spiritual leaders like His Holiness, and Swamiji, can offer great wisdom and counsel to us all.

Anyway, once again I thought it was strange timing that I’m informed that the Dalai Lama now won’t be where I thought he would be – but he’ll be somewhere else where I’m going.

We’ll still go to Dharamsala even though HIs Holiness won’t be there, because the northern state is a centre for Tibetan Buddhism. I’d like to include in the film the Buddhists’ beliefs on intuition.

I’ll leave Parmarth Niketan Ashram tomorrow with great sadness, because in the short time I’ve been here I’ve been made to feel very at home. I love the ethos of the place, and of course I feel I have a strong leaning towards the yogic philosophies.

Tomorrow night is Punjab. Sikhs. Extraordinary people.
Isn’t life fascinating?

(here is a pic I took of Swamiji last night, during a Q&A on pollution in the Ganges.)

Today started at… 4:44am

Yes, I couldn’t believe it, as I left the apartment to begin filming on the Ganges before sunrise.

Jennifer and I filmed for three hours – witnessing the daily rituals of the townsfolk at the start of their day. The Ganges is certainly sacred to them.

I then did some filming around the ashram – and in the early afternoon did an interview with a young American woman who, like me, heard a voice that turned her life around. Up until then she was a graduate student in psychology – with no interest in religion at all – and she’d gone to India on a whim because she was a vegetarian, and she wanted to stay in a place where getting a vegetarian meal wasn’t such a big deal.

But while taking a short cut through the Parmarth ashram to the Ganges one day, she heard a voice telling her she must stay. She didn’t believe in “voices,” thinking that only schizophrenics and Joan of Arc heard voices. But like in my situation, the voice was insistent – telling her she must stay – so stay she did.

Eighteen years later she’s a Swami, and a renown spiritualist in her own right. She represents the ashram around the world at seminars and conferences, and tomorrow she leaves for South Korean, where she’s been invited to attend a United Nations conference on climate change. The Parmarth Niketan Mission has taken an active role throughout the world in addressing climate change.

These folk aren’t monastic scholars – they live in the real world, and are very active in humanitarian and environmental matters.

It looks like I will be doing the interview with Swamiji Chidanand tomorrow – and that should be fascinating. He is a true holy man.

This evening we’ll shoot the fire ceremony again – getting the closer shots I missed last time. As well as some more visuals around the Ganges at sunset. Our assistant comes in later this afternoon as well. He’s going to accompany us on our trip up to Dharamsala, starting Wednesday.

I could’t believe the clock this morning – 4:44am. One of the things that Sadvuji, the lady I interviewed today said, is that everything is a sign from the Divine. We can choose to acknowledge it as such, or ignore it. But, she said, if you miss the sign the first time around, the Divine will send you another sign. And another. And another. Until you get it. And if you don’t get it this lifetime, then hopefully you’ll get it the next.

Here now are some pictures to go with the Day 10 post…

Good news –

I’ve just come back to the room at the Ashram and received an email to tell me we have another investor on board – a fellow from the US who has responded strongly and immediately to the film, and what I’m doing.

Thank you sir!

I feel momentum building…

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My day started at 5:30am.

I walked down to the Ganges, down past a faded temple, past souvenir stalls that were yet to be opened like Venus fly traps, dodging wandering cows and half sleepy sadhus, until I came to a chai stall.

What caught my attention was an elderly man, dressed in white and wearing a turban. He had a low great pointed beard, piercing eyes, and a golden dot between his eyes.

I asked if I could take his photo and he noddd his acquiescence – but first he needed to re-tie his turban. He did this swiftly and deftly, and with turban tight and tidy, he then presented himself for the camera.

He had an extraordinary dignity.

I directed him so that I could get exactly the shots I wanted, and he was agreeable always – wanting to please. When I’d finished I offered him some money, but he resolutely refused.

He seemed quite offended that I would offer.

Instead he said I should join him in a chai, so from the old and dirty stall his friend quickly made me a fresh chai. He handed it to me in a glass that had only moments before been filthy – until he’d washed it in a pail of water.

I drank the chai and it was truly delicious. Twelve hours later my tummy is yet to react adversely – I think by now with all my traveling in India, I’ve developed a Delhi Belly immune system.

Touch wood.

I offered to pay the chain maker – ten rupees, which is generous for street chain. Bit again he refused. He looked to the old Sikh, who tutt tutted sternly and indicated that it was his shout.

I clasped my two hands in the prayer position, bowed to his generosity and dignity, thanked him and moved on.

I made my way down to the river, and shot some footage in the early morning light. There’s something magical about Mother Ganga, particularly at sunrise and sunset.

I then climbed back up to the wire suspension bridge – the Laxman Jhulia bridge, and crossed over to the other side. As I was walking over the bridge I looked down and way way below me I saw a young man doing yoga on a landing by the banks of the river.

I made my way down and set up my camera. I was behind him and to one side – a perfect angle to get him doing his poses with the river in the background, looking upstream to where the early morning light was striking some ancient buildings.

The young man went through a series of serious yoga asanas. I know my yoga, and he was doing twisty headstands which requires strength, balance, and full concentration.

While he was going through his series of impressive poses, the Sikh gentleman at the chai stall came down for his morning wash. That’s how they clean themselves of a morning – by washing themselves in the river.

He took off his turban, and stripped down to his underwear, and entered the water. He was thin as a rake, but strong. He must have been mid 70s, but perhaps even older. Yet he moved like a young man.

I took his photo and he posed for me in the water, standing to a attention like he was on parade. Again, he radiated a dignity – even though he was half naked, his hair and beard dripping down his thin lined face.

By this stage the light had ceased to be interesting, so I made my way back to the hotel room, where Jennifer was still asleep. She’s capable of sleeping four days straight, I’m sure, if I didn’t wake her of a morning.

As I was downloading the footage there was a sharp knock on the door. I opened it to find one of the young hotel staff holding a newspaper, with a photo of myself on the front page.

This is you, he said, pointing proudly to the picture of me. You Re. Very famous man, he said, straightening slightly in my hallowed presence.

How did I get on the front page of a national newspaper?

North of Rishikesh is a city called Dehradun. It’s like India’s Boston – full of the country’s best universities and colleges. My producing partner on DEFIANT, Anupam Sharma, comes from Dehradun and several years ago he’d introduced me to Satish Sharma, the owner of the local newspaper.

Satish and I became friends, and when he heard I was coming to Rishikesh he drove down with his wife and daughter to meet me. He also took my photo, which went up on his paper, and was then syndicated nationally – for reasons that I can’t fathom.

Anyway, the young hotel worker left me the paper, believing that I would no doubt want to keep it and frame it, then scuttled away – no doubt intimidated to be so close to real star power.

Later as I checked out, the manager and his assistant wanted to have their photo taken with me – as if I was a Bollywood star. It’s the only time I’ve ever checked out of a hotel where the manager has wanted to grab me for a photo op.

Jen and I then took a cab to the ashram where we’re to stay for the next three nights.. We’d walked there the other evening and it was a 3km hike. By taxi it was fourteen kms, half an hour, and 500Rp.

I wasn’t sure what to expect with the ashram. I haven’t stayed in many ashrams in my life. In fact I’ve never stayed in an ashram, nor stepped foot in one. But after the crazy hotel, I was ready for a new experience.

Jennifer and I walked through beautifully manicured lawns and gardens, dotted with Hindu statues of gods and mythological figures, and made our way to the registration desk – housed in one of many large buildings.

Registration was like checking into a hotel – passport taken, forms filled out, papers to sign. While all this was happening I went through a range of wildly oscillating thoughts:

• what sort of room are they going to give me?
• Will it have wifi?
• If I don’t like the room is it cool to go back and ask for another?
• Why am I worried about the room? I should be grateful for whatever they give me…
• You’re a pilgrim after all…
• Will it have sea views? Err, I mean river views?
• Will there be enough power sockets to charge all my batteries?
• Bill, you’re going into an ashram. And it’s only three days. You can survive without all these things you think you need…
• Yes, but what about wifi?

As it turned out we were allocated a glorious room with views that overlook the River Ganges. Later Jennier and I walked around the grounds, and I felt an immediate sense of calm. Parmarth Ashram is regarded as one of the great yoga retreats of the world, and I could see why.

I asked later how much it was going to cost, and I was told it was on a donation basis – whatever I wished.

I know that two days here is not nearly enough time. It’s the kind of place where I could happily spend a very long time…

(Only iPad shots, because there’s no wifi…)

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After the interview with the Swami from Haridwar, Jennifer and I hunkered down in a cafe looking down on the Ganges, and took stock of all that’s happened in the past week.

Since landing in Bombay a little over a week ago, this film has put on a pair of roller skates and scootered off on its own accord.

I landed with nothing other than one person to call. On the plane coming over, I had a minor panic attack. Here I am, heeding off to make this film without anything lined up.

I’ve never gone into a film more unprepared. No, that’s not correct – I was prepared in terms of my research, which had been extensive. And I’d written a very detailed script so I knew what I wanted – how I saw the film playing out, the content that I needed.

But I was unprepared in that I had no-one to talk to. No interviews, not even any idea of who I should be talking to, who I should target. It’s not that I hadn’t tried. I’d been trying for weeks to line up interviews in India from Australia. But unusually for me, it just didn’t happen. Usually I make things happen, but this time I couldn’t.

So I left Australia with an open diary. I was anxious. I’d never done this before. I’d always set off with everything planned down to the tiniest detail.

And then a strange thing happened.

As I was sitting in the cab on the long drive from the airport to the hotel in Mumbai, I had – yes – a flash of intuition. I got a “message” saying that I should google “The Yoga Institute.”

I was unaware that there even was a yoga institute, but I googled it anyway, and lo and behold, a very sophisticated website came up for the Mumbai Yoga Institute – said to be the oldest yoga organisation in the world.

http://theyogainstitute.org

I went to the webpage which listed the staff, and noted the name of the Director. I had no idea that he was 94 years old and barely of this gross matter world. Even so I called the main office number, spoke with authority, and said I was a filmmaker from Australia and I wanted to come and see the director.

This led to two days filming at the Institute, and the start of this incredible journey, where the film began to tell me how it was to be made. it was to be made without structure and without rigidity.

It was to be made intuitively.

Ever since making that phone call in the cab, Jennifer and I have not stopped. It’s been a whirlwind. We now have half a dozen interviews with some people who rarely grant interviews. And each of them in their own way have been fabulous. Already we’ve got some great material for the film.

Tomorrow we shift into this massive Parmarth Niketan Ashram, run by Swamiji. He’s a true holy man. My interview with him will be on Monday. Here is the Ashram’s website:

http://www.parmarth.com

This is about letting go, and trusting. Trusting that I’m being guided in the right direction. Trusting that my “protectors” are watching my back. Trusting that each day, I’ll be led to my highest good.

I’m not thinking of outcomes. I’m only thinking day to day, and allowing that day to unfold as it should. I have no control over outcomes. And in fact I’ve discovered that I have no control at all. It’s been hard to accept, but now I’m loving it…

Here are some pics from today – first the crazy hotel – and I should explain: the exotic room suite is costing us $45 pn, and it’s a rip off. The sheet was filthy (yes only one sheet, and a stained blanket, so Jennifer slept in her jeans), the bathroom too was filthy and we had to ask for clean towels. No soap either. And no wifi at all, even though it was advertised as having wifi. Still, it’s an experience, and we LOVE the decor…

I'm sitting in a little cafe on a hill overlooking the Ganges.

Outside there's a constant stream of women climbing the steep path, dressed in brightly colours saris.

I'm with Jennifer and were about to have a simple lunch of vegetable pakoras – they're like fried patties, but spicy – and dhal and roti.

To drink it's a typical Indian fresh soda lime, sweet and salty. This is lime juice mixed with soda water, containing both sugar and salt.

For some inexplicable reason it's not only unnaturally refreshing, it also seems to represent the unlikely contradictions that are modern India.

You have to have patience in India. There's a lot of waiting for reasons that often defy logic.

For instance, you'll order a bottle of water and then have to wait 15 minutes for it to come, but there'll be no glasses. You have ask for the glasses separately, which means a further wait of fifteen minutes.

Right at the moment I've been sitting here for thirty minutes and the pakoras still haven't come. And there's just two other people in the cafe, so the kitchen is hardly over worked.

But hey, it's pleasant, we have a lovely view of the Ganges, there's an exotic smell of sandalwood wafting up through the trees, and I am after all a pilgrim. And pilgrims don't yell at kitchen staff to hurry up.

This morning I did one of the best interviews so far. He's a young swami from Haridwar – a former high flying investment banker originally working out of London and Singapore.

But one night he had a vision of himself in a hall before a guru, and then by chance some years later he saw a poster in the London underground, advertising a visit of a spiritual leader from India. It was that guru he saw in his vision.

He followed this guru back to Bangalore in Southern India, and decided to throw in his world of high finance and become a sadhu – a holy man.

Today he was able to speak about intuition with the wisdom of the east, but the knowledge and pragmatism of the west. He was smart, articulate, and reinforced beautifully my concept of a personal guidance system.

It was, in my parlance, a cracker interview.

Tomorrow we shift out of our “colourful” hotel and into the Sawmiji's ashram. That should be fascinating…

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Rishikesh is a sacred town on the banks of the Ganges. And the Ganges, as you probably know, is the most sacred of all rivers for Hindus.

Rishikesh was made famous by The Beatles, who traveled there in 1968 at the height of their fame to meet with Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, who introduced them, (and through them the world,) to transcendental meditation. While there they also wrote The White album.

Rishikesh also features prominently in Autobiography of a Yogi. Yogananda spent time there searching for a teacher. Latterly, the town has become synonymous in the west for being the place to learn yoga – principally the asanas, or postures.

I’ve been to Rishikesh twice before – one memorable time in the winter, when fog shrouded the Ganges and the place took on a magical ethereal air.

Driving in from the airport this morning, and coming into town, I was struck by the number of roadside signs advertising ashrams and yoga retreats and meditation classes. Jennifer and I checked into a hotel that made some of the grubbier albergues on the Camino look positively five star.

We then went for a walk to find an ashram which the TV dude yesterday had put us onto, regarded as one of the most respected and legitimate – and the oldest in the area – Parmarth Niketan.Mission. It’s a huge expanse of gardens and shrines and accommodation and halls, right on the banks of Mother Ganges. Here is a recent story in the NY Times about the place:

The head of the ashram is Pujya Swami Yogananda Ji – a man who’s revered as being a true spiritual leader. He’s been honoured throughout the world for his humanitarian achievements – not to mention his work in spreading yoga to the west.

We went to reception and I boldly asked to see Swamiji. That’s like arriving at the Vatican and asking to see the Pope. But a volunteer assistant came out, and politely asked me who I was and why did I want to see Swamiji. I told him about my film, and gave him a sketch of my background, and he went away – only to return not long later to say that Swamiji would see me, but only after the fire ceremony.

The fire ceremony is held every evening as the sun goes down over the Ganges. Hundreds of devotees, many in saffron robes, gather on concrete steps leading down to the holy river and begin to chant, accompanied by a group of musicians.

After about half an hour, with the steps packed with worshippers and sightseers, the Swami arrived. Everyone stood reverentially, and he sat in amongst them and led a song – with everyone singing along and swaying to the music.

It was hypnotic.

I didn’t understand the words but the music, and the atmosphere, had a powerful affect on me. It loosened things up inside. In my head and in my heart.

The swami himself exuded a majesty and power that was palpable. In any culture, in any situation, he would be regarded and revered as a holy man.

After the ceremony, the swami returned to the ashram, and I was told that I could meet him. We sat in a secluded area, him sitting ramrod straight with his legs folded in the lotus position, hidden under his robes – his eyes clear and sparkling and full of mirth and wisdom – his long curly locks of hair streaked with grey, his beard trailing down his chest.

He asked me about the film, and I told him how a voice had saved my life, and how I wanted to find out what that voice was, and where it came from. He asked some questions, and agreed to me interviewing him in a couple of days. I was thrilled. He’s a wise man, and a holy man, and he’ll contribute significantly to the film.

Afterwards Jennifer and I were invited to have dinner with one of the women who helps run the admin side of things – a vivacious American lass whose name is Sadhvi. She’s a psychology graduate who threw it all in eighteen years ago to join the ashram. She has a smile that could light up the entire ashram, plus she’s super smart and very articulate. She too has agreed to an interview.

She left and we then got talking to some Americans who’d also attended the ceremony. One of them had been shooting with a Canon 5D Mk II – and watching him shoot it quickly became obvious to me that he was a seasoned professional.

I remarked on this, and he laughed and said that yes, before moving to American he’d worked for twenty years for the Vatican.

What? 

For the past several weeks I’ve been trying to gain access to the Vatican – ideally to get an interview with the Pope, but even to get some formal Church view on intuition. We leave for Rome in less than two weeks to do this filming, and up till now we’ve not been able to get a definite decision on whether we have permission.

And now this bloke turns up sitting across a table from me, telling me that he worked for the Vatican for twenty years, and he can get me that access. Perhaps not the Pope – that takes time – but certainly someone else high up on the food chain.

Once again I was bowled over. When I need something on this film, it presents itself. I keep playing by the rules – that I will be led intuitively – and I keep on being led to the right people at the right time.

Today was extraordinary – meeting the Swami, and simply being on the banks of the Ganges in amongst the very moving ceremony. And then later sitting with Swamiji in the ashram, and feeling an overwhelming sense of calm and stillness.

Each day this film opens me up more and more.

Kathryn Schlesinger has been a regular on this blog for quite some time.

Her husband Michael, sometimes known as Rambler 1959, (after the amazing vintage car he drives) is also a follower of the blog.

I met them both on this past trip to the US, and they were incredibly generous and welcoming. For me, the highlight of our time with them was when they took me to The Wedge – a very famous surfing beach, mainly for bodyboarders, because of the unique nature of the wave.

I grew up as a surfer on the Gold Coast, in southern Queensland, (Burleigh was my haunt, as was Kirra and Currumbin) and I remember seeing amazing pictures and surfing movies of The Wedge. So it was wonderful to see it for real after all these years.

Thank you once again Michael and Kathryn for a glorious day.

Kathryn at that stage was in early preparations for a trip to Bali, where she does regular charity work. I asked her if she’d be interested in doing a guest blog – even though it’s off topic of the Camino – but irrespective I thought it might be interesting.

(My current Indian trip is way off topic!)

So here is her post –

Strange how one thing leads to the next!

My husband and I are doing the Camino Frances in Stages. Even after our first short stage, the Camino magic changed our lives forever! And because one thing leads to the next, we started following Camino blogs, keeping the memories alive and our knowledge of the Camino growing. That is how we first came to know and love Bill and some of you! We have since done a 2nd stage and are dreaming of our 3^rd.

Now, because one thing leads to the next, Bill invited me to share on his blog about another trip that changed our lives forever.

Six years ago Michael and I visited Bali for our 25^th anniversary. I was post recovery from breast cancer and wanted a special place to get away from it all, to relax and feel healthy. It was a perfect choice. It was exotic, tropical, exciting – chaos in some places, but peaceful in most and all culturally new!

I fell in love with the people that were kind, calm and helpful. I was inspired by how their spirituality was continually exhibited in their daily living.

Again one thing leads to the next and the following year I found myself searching the Internet for a “service” trip that my young adult, surfer sons could do together. I found an organization that fit their time and talents in Bali but schedules changed and the boys could no longer get the same time off.

However I was hooked on the idea now. Luckily, I was able to get my little sister to go with me and could arrange to have my 2 younger children arrive with my husband a week later to help us.

Our destination was a beautiful village in a simple and remote lush area of Bali (3 hours from the flashy tourists in the south) The scent of cloves filled the air. (Both clove and coffee are the primary crops and income of the area, along with the rice that grows in the beautiful terraces on the hills.) We brought art projects to make and songs to teach, a lot of toothbrushes and suitcases full of school supplies.

It was a soul touching experience, both busy and joyful. Before leaving we learned that many children were not able to attend school because they could not pay for the uniforms, the fees, books and supplies. We offered to help 4 kids for the next year.

And as I said, one thing leads to the next!

Since then many friends have joined our efforts and now we have 48 students receiving ongoing sponsorship so they can attend school. ($120 a year covers all the school expenses and provides each student with a filled backpack )

Since then, we have returned annually, bringing art, songs and teaching oral hygiene. We bring all sponsored students backpacks full of helpful items and give them a party where we take a new picture to give to the sponsor.

We have been able to do teacher trainings, purchase storybooks for 7 schools, built playground equipment and opened a new kindergarten.

I’ve had more time now to think about Dallas.

To recap: two days ago a very wealthy businessman – a lawyer who has amassed a fortune through following his astrological charts – read me my charts, based on my exact time and place of birth. He told that I will begin to acquire fame, wealth, and do wonderful things for mankind if I do certain things:

• I have to go to Dallas on November 23rd
• I have to take the free airport shuttle
• I have to stay for fifteen days in a cheap motel
• I must not carry any money
• I must do nothing, other than wait.
• I can’t leave Dallas for that 15 days.
• If after 15 days something good happens, then I should stay a further 30 days.
• If something good happens in that 30 days, then I should stay another 30 days.
• I should stay for eleven years.
• If I do all these things, I will have more wealth than I could ever imagine.
• I will become famous.
• I will be treated like a King.
• I will have “lands,” meaning many properties, and “conveyances,” meaning many cars.
• People will respect me and know me to be a good man.
• I will have a huge impact on humanity in a very beneficial way.
• My period in the cosmic rays is 16 years, commencing from 2012.
• I have 14 years left.
• There are two other places where I can do – Muscogee, and Panama. But Dallas is the number 1 place I must be.

Sitting in the room, as he told me these things, I was of course stunned and confused. And I have to say somewhat sceptical.

More money that I could ever imagine?
Treated like a King?
Lands and conveyances?

But thinking back, when his assistant came into the room and handed him a computer readout with the name of the place where I had to go (based on complex mathematics from the movement of the stars) – and Dr. Bhatt told me that it was Dallas, something immediately pinged inside me. And I knew instantly that there was no choice. I had to do this. I had to go, and do what he told me to do.

Will I become rich?
Will I become famous?
Will I be treated like a King?
Will I get bedbugs from this cheap motel?

A lot of people would scoff at Dr. Bhatt, and say that he’s a crackpot, and it’s all madness, and merely a curiosity.

Some would say: why not? You’ve got nothing to lose.

But that’s the wrong attitude. You can’t go into this with diffidence, saying: what the hell… what have I got to lose. It’s just fifteen days in Dallas. That’s the wrong way to approach this. You have to believe, you have to trust, and you have to know in your heart that this is divine guidance.

I don’t believe Dr. Bhatt is a crackpot, just as I don’t believe that waking up at 4:44am after that incredible dream was not a message that I had to go to India and start filming. Dr. Bhatt is a messenger. And I can either choose to listen to that message and act on it with full belief and intention, or I can choose to say: ah, what the hell. It’s only 15 days.

You either believe, trust and follow, or you don’t.
I believe, I trust, and I will follow.
To Dallas, on November 23rd, to a cheap motel.

Hopefully without bedbugs…

(photo courtesy of Steve McCurry)

Today Jennifer was left speechless.

As we exited the luxury high rise apartment of another hugely wealthy businessman, who had hosted us to a sumptuous breakfast of south Indian cuisine, she turned to me and said: There are very few times when I’m incapable of speech, but now is one of them.

What made her speechless?

Let me explain:

The man we had breakfast with is a very successful businessman. One of his many holdings is a luxury five star hotel complex on the beach at Juhu – prime real estate estimated to be worth in excess of US$5b.

He also owns tv stations and finance companies and sundry other investments.

He started with nothing and he told us this morning that he’s used his intuition to get to where he is now. When I showed him my sizzle reel for PGS, he was deeply affected. And immediately said he wanted to invest.

Tomorrow we’re to meet the head of his tv channel to further discuss – but in the meantime he’s lining up interviews for us with some real heavy hitters, including Bikram Chowdry (of Bikram Yoga fame) and possibly Deepak Chopra. These are to be done in Los Angeles.

He’s also connected us with one of the world’s great spiritual gurus, Baba Ram Dev, and some key people in Rishikesh, where we’ll be on Friday. Rishikesh is a sacred town on the Ganges.

I told him what the astrologer said – about how I must go to Dallas – and he said it’s true. He’s done the same thing, gone to a place which an astrologer has said he must go, and under the strangest of circumstances he’s accumulated wealth.

Jennifer and I left his apartment with him avowing his support for me, and for the film. And saying that he will accompany us on our further travels around the world too.

I wonder if that means he’s coming to Dallas?

In the afternoon we flew to Delhi, checked into a hotel in Connaught Place, and then went out to meet a researcher who will be doing some work for us on the next stages of the film. A very impressive young man.

We then had dinner with an old friend, the First Assistant Director on THE BEST EXOTIC MARIGOLD HOTEL and ZERO DARK THIRTY. He was 2nd Assistant Director on SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE.

We had a wonderful dinner in a very funky part of Delhi – an artists enclave in an old workers’ colony which has since been gentrified. He provided logistic help for this next stage of the production, and is lining up some key interviewees.

Here’s the thing: I didn’t line anything up before I left home. I just trusted that the right people would come along when I needed them. When the film needed them. I’m making this film by playing by the rules, and the rules are that I’m to be intuitively led.

I’m making this film by trusting that my PGS will guide me to the right people.

And that’s what’s happening.

I left Sydney with just one phone number. That was the number of Dr. Bhatt, who ended up doing my astrological charts, and telling me I had to go to Dallas on November 23rd.

Everything is aligning faster than I could have hoped.

It’s left Jennifer speechless.