This below is a reprint of an Opinion piece in the New York Times.

At this time of the year I thought it was worth putting up here –

I particularly like this quote: “To be truly alive is to feel one’s ultimate existence within one’s daily existence.”

The Subtle Sensations of Faith

With Hanukkah coming to an end, Christmas days away, and people taking time off work, we are in a season of quickened faith. When you watch people exercise that faith, whether lighting candles or attending Midnight Mass, the first thing you see is how surprising it is. You’d think faith would be a simple holding of belief, or a confidence in things unseen, but, in real life, faith is unpredictable and ever-changing.

It begins, for many people, with an elusive experience of wonder and mystery. The best modern book on belief is “My Bright Abyss” by my Yale colleague, Christian Wiman. In it, he writes, “When I hear people say they have no religious impulse whatsoever … I always want to respond: Really? You have never felt overwhelmed by, and in some way inadequate to, an experience in your life, have never felt something in yourself staking a claim beyond yourself, some wordless mystery straining through word to reach you? Never?”

Most believers seem to have had these magical moments of wonder and clearest consciousness, which suggested a dimension of existence beyond the everyday. Maybe it happened during childbirth, with music, in nature, in love or pain, or during a moment of overwhelming gratitue and exaltation.

These glimmering experiences are not in themselves faith, but they are the seed of faith. As Wiman writes, “Religion is not made of these moments; religion is the means of making these moments part of your life rather than merely radical intrusions so foreign and perhaps even fearsome that you can’t even acknowledge their existence afterward. Religion is what you do with these moments of over-mastery in your life.”

These moments provide an intimation of ethical perfection and merciful love. They arouse a longing within many people to integrate that glimpsed eternal goodness into their practical lives. This longing is faith. It’s not one emotion because it encompasses so many emotions. It’s not one idea because it contains contradictory ideas. It’s a state of motivation, a desire to reunite with that glimpsed moral beauty and incorporate it into everyday living.

It’s a hard process. After the transcendent glimpses, people forget. Their spirits go dry and they doubt anything ever happened. But believers try, as Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel put it, to stay faithful to those events. They assent to some spiritual element they still sense planted in themselves.

The process of faith, of bringing moments of intense inward understanding into the ballyhoo of life, seems to involve a lot of reading and talking — as people try to make sense of who God is and how holiness should be lived out. Even if you tell people you are merely writing a column on faith, they begin recommending books to you by the dozen. Religion may begin with experiences beyond reason, but faith relies on reason.

In his famous fourth footnote in “Halakhic Man,” Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik writes, “The individual who frees himself from the rational principle and who casts off the yoke of objective thought will in the end turn destructive and lay waste the entire created order. Therefore, it is preferable that religion should ally itself with the forces of clear, logical cognition, as uniquely exemplified in the scientific method, even though at times the two might clash with one another.”

Or as Wiman puts it more elegantly: “Faith cannot save you from the claims of reason, except insofar as it preserves and protects that wonderful, terrible time when reason, if only for a moment, lost its claim on you.”

All this discerning and talking leads to the main business of faith: living attentively every day. The faithful are trying to live in ways their creator loves. They are trying to turn moments of spontaneous consciousness into an ethos of strict conscience. They are using effervescent sensations of holiness to inspire concrete habits, moral practices and practical ways of living well.

Marx thought that religion was the opiate of the masses, but Soloveitchik argues that, on the contrary, this business of living out a faith is complex and arduous: “The pangs of searching and groping, the tortures of spiritual crises and exhausting treks of the soul purify and sanctify man, cleanse his thoughts, and purge them of the husks of superficiality and the dross of vulgarity. Out of these torments there emerges a new understanding of the world, a powerful spiritual enthusiasm that shakes the very foundations of man’s existence.”

Insecure believers sometimes cling to a rigid and simplistic faith. But confident believers are willing to face their dry spells, doubts, and evolution. Faith as practiced by such people is change. It is restless, growing. It’s not right and wrong that changes, but their spiritual state and their daily practice. As the longings grow richer, life does, too. As Wiman notes, “To be truly alive is to feel one’s ultimate existence within one’s daily existence.

I’ve trawled through a lot of images to select my favourite 10 shots of the year.

Each picture has a story, of course. I’ll give you a brief rundown of that story.

There are so many other pics that I love that didn’t make this list – but ultimately my choices are idiosyncratic – as you’ll no doubt attest.

So here we go –

I took this shot on a sheep property about 150kms out of Longreach. His name is Keith Saffy, and he’s an aboriginal stockman. One of the best. And an absolute gem of a man. The shot was taken just as the sun was going down – last light. His face shows his life of pain, of strength and stoicism, and ultimately of compassion and dignity. I felt it was a privilege to have met him.

Camera: Fujifilm X-E2; Lens: Fujinon 18-55mm; focal length: 64mm [35mm equiv] 1/55th – f4 – ISO 1250

This shot was also taken out of Longreach, in Central Queensland. Pieter de Vries was my Director of Photography on the film I was shooting. He wanted me to take a shot of him doing a Ninja style throw of his hat. The wind was howling at about 50km an hour, and I took this shot totally instinctively. The hat was traveling in the wind at about 100mph! I love the shot because of the composition – for me, it’s perfectly balanced, and Pieter’s expression is suitably mischievous. By the way, this shot hasn’t been cropped. It’s the full frame.

Camera: Sony a7r; Lens: Zeiss 35mm; Focal length: 35mm; Exposure: 1/3000th – f8 – ISO 400)

 This shot was taken from the back of a car driving from Bombay airport to the hotel. We were stopped at traffic lights and the boy was begging for money. I love this shot because for me it expresses the joy and exuberance, the colour and energy of India. Perhaps my favourite shot of the year.

Camera: Sony a7s; Lens: Zeiss 24-70mm; Focal length: 70mm; Exposure: 1/100th – f5.6 – ISO 2500

This shot was taken at the Mudgee Show earlier this year. It was a game in Sideshow Alley. I love this shot because it’s so surreal. and I love the colours.

Camera: Fujifilm X-E2; Lens: Fujinon 18-55mm; Focal length: 51mm [35mm equiv]; Exposure: 1/100th – f5.6 – ISO 400

This shot was taken out front of the Basilica in Assisi, Italy. It was taken at last light. I love the striations – the bandings on the ground, contrasted with the vertical columns of the archways behind. And I love the posture of the monk, with hands behind, striding out. This was a shot that was quickly taken. I saw the monk approaching, I quickly positioned myself to get the best angle emphasising the background, and I only had a chance to take one shot, so I had to make sure that I got his stride correct. It was a tricky shot.

Camera: Sony a7s; Lens: Zeiss 24-70mm; Focal length: 24mm; Exposure: 1/200th – f5.6 – ISO 320

This photo was taken somewhere in the Mojave Desert, in California. It was on a highway that is rarely traveled, and I remember I was a bit anxious because there was a stretch of about 100mls without a town. If we broke down then we’d be in trouble, Hollywood style. To me the shot epitomises all those B-Grade road movies I grew up with.

Camera: Fujfilm X-E2; Lens: Fujinon 18-55mm; Focal length: 36mm [35mm equiv]; Exposure: 1/1400 – f8 – ISO 400

This shot was taken on a freeway in Dallas. I was driving at the time, and took the shot with one hand holding the wheel, the other holding the camera. I’m amazed that it’s as well composed as it is, given that. The shot is about 2-3 stops overexposed, and that’s one of the things I like about it – because for me it represent the Cosmic Rays that inhabit the place. What makes the shot is the red car. Without the red car the shot would be nothing.

Camera: Sony RX100 Mk3; Lens: Zeiss 24-70mm [35mm equiv]; Focal length: 24mm [35mm equiv]; Exposure: 1/2000th – f3.5 – ISO 1250

This again was taken in Dallas, in downtown. The eye is a sculpture, and a local landmark. The shot for me is surreal – and I like the juxtaposition of white and dark, curves and horizontals. I find it an arresting photo.

Camera: Sony RX100 Mk3; Lens: Zeiss 24-70mm [35mm equiv]; Focal length: 61mm [35mm equiv]; Exposure: 1/125 – f8 – ISO 160

This shot was taken while I was walking the Camino Portuguese – just before Easter, the period they call Semana Santa. The shot was taken about 75kms from Santiago de Compostela, in a small town that was preparing for the Semana Santa celebrations. The shot has sinister connotations though because of the visual reference to the Ku Klux Klan.

Camera: Fujifilm X-T1; Lens: Fujinon 18-55mm; Focal length: 27mm [35mm equiv]; Exposure: 1/90th – f6.4 – ISO 400

This shot was taken at Rishikesh, a Hindu holy town on the banks of the Ganges in India. I saw the sadhu coming towards me, and I stopped him and positioned him so that he was exactly symmetrical between the sides of the bridge, and then I squatted lower so that I had the sunburst coming just over his head. I made sure that the tin he was holding was in shot. Again this is a shot that wasn’t cropped. What you see is the full frame.

Camera: Sony a7s; Lens: Zeiss: 24-70mm; Focal length: 24mm; Exposure: 1/500th – f5.6 – ISO 160

And here is a shot that I would have included, except that I shot it on December 29th 2013, two days before the start of the year –

This shot was taken late at night in Longreach, Central Queensland. I took several shots, trying to get the composition right – trying to get the Coke machine inside in shot, and yet still maintain the symmetry. It was also a tricky exposure – making sure that the background was darkened, to keep the eye drawn to the inside of the Laundromat. Again this shot wasn’t altered in post production – the cropping and exposure is what I captured on the day – or night.

Camera: Nikon D3200; Lens: Nikkor 17-55 f2.8; Focal length: 25mm [35mm equiv]; Exposure: 1/50th – f2.8 – ISO 1600

Before the end of the year, I will post my ten best shots of the year.

At least, the shots that I like the most.

It will be fun going through them all.

I estimate I’ve taken about 20,000 shots this year, which isn’t much, really.

But I’ve traveled a bit, so there should be some interesting ones to select from.

Yesterday I looked back on my year –

I asked myself: What have I done this year?

Here’s what I’ve done:

• I made a film about stockmen (Australian cowboys) for an Outback museum
• I walked the Camino Portuguese with some wonderful friends
• I began building an online film producing course with my university
• I started my intuition film.

That’s it.

That’s all I did.

I felt very flat.

I told Jennifer.

She said: Are you insane?

But when it comes down to it, that’s all I did.

That’s all I created.

(I regard the Camino Portuguese tour as a creative endeavour.)

You know what Jennifer then said?

She said: Yep Bill, you’re right. You’ve done bugger all. You’ve got ten more days in the year. Get to work!

And so I’ve started writing my book on photographing the Camino.

After two days I’m 6000 words in.

While everyone else has been kicking back enjoying pre-Christmas parties etc, I’ve been writing.

Having fun.

I figure that at this rate, I should have at least 15,000 words done by New Year’s Eve, and a first draft done by the end of January.

By March it should be ready for publication.

(The book is a practical guide to photography on the Camino, and will probably be only about 50,000 words – but with plenty of photos.)

And of course there’s the PGS film, which takes priority over everything.

But January is a quiet month, so in between working on the film I’ll have time to write as well.

This time next year I want to be able to answer that question – What did I do this year? – by saying:

• I wrote a new book
• I walked the Via de Francesca with some wonderful friends
• I finished my PGS film
• I finished the first stage of the online course with my university
• I finished my Indian honour killing film – DEFIANT
• I wrote a new screenplay

That would be a good year.

I’ll work towards that.

As part of my research into the film I’m making on intuition, I’m currently reading a book which looks at instigating personal change by rewiring your brain via the Quantum Field.

I was put onto the book through my Dallas connection, Joni Patry, Vedic Astrologer Extraordinaire, who in turn connected me to a wonderful lady living in Malibu.

Jennifer and I had breakfast at this lady’s place on the day we were due to fly out back to Australia. She urged me to read the book by Dr. Joe Dispenza, who was featured in the movie What the Bleep Do we Know? 

The book is called Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself – How to Lose your Mind and Create a New One.

He uses Quantum Field concepts, in particular that all matter is energy, and all energy is simply a probability, subject to the influence of observation and attention.

He states that thoughts and emotions are also energies that swill around in the Quantum Field. Thoughts are an electrical charge, and emotions are a magnetic charge. When thoughts and emotions are aligned, you have what he calls “coherence.”

He proposes that all outcomes exist as probabilities or potentials in the Quantum Field. Wealth is a potential, perfect health is a potential, intelligence, freedom, abundance – all of these are potentials and exist as what he calls “electromagnetic signatures.”

He then proposes: What if you could align your emotional / cognitive coherence to take on one of these electromagnetic signatures?

He writes: The thoughts that we think send out an electrical signal into the Quantum Field. The feelings we generate magnetically draw events to us. Together how we think and how we feel generates an electromagnetic signature that influences every atom in our world. 

Essentially what he proposes is that if we send out a particular electromagnetic signature into the Quantum Field, then we’ll either be pulled towards a potential that matches our signature, or else that potential will find us.

Where we mess up is if we lack coherence – if our thoughts and emotions don’t truly align.

In other words, we might think we’d like to be wealthy, but deep down we might feel that we don’t deserve it. This represents a lack of coherence – the wavelength of our thoughts and emotions are out of phase, and so our electromagnetic signature becomes confused and loses potency. And so we don’t get what we want.

When our thoughts are clear and focused, and when we have a deep emotional and truthful commitment, then our electromagnetic signal is strong and powerful. and we attract a potential reality out in the Quantum Field that matches what we want.

Interesting, huh?

The book contains a four week course that takes you through a series of exercises designed to change your electromagnetic signal, and rewire your brain. If I have enough brain cells left after Christmas, I might give it a try…

I’m back home in Mudgee now, and I feel with some time and distance I can now provide a cogent review of Dallas.

Many of you reading this blog will be familiar with what happened while Jennifer and I were there, through my daily posts.

But there was a lot I didn’t tell you – either because it was too personal, or because I wanted to hold situations and events in reserve for the subsequent film.

The Indian astrologer, Dr. Bimal Bhatt, told me that I should write a diary of what happened in Dallas.

I didn’t.

Instead what I did was I recorded a video diary at the end of each day, where I talked to camera, totally unscripted, and I revealed what actually happened, and how I felt about it all. It was real stream-of-consciousness stuff, largely because I was so damn exhausted at the end of the day, and all the filters had shut down.

I can tell you that I was very nervous and agitated before I went to Dallas.

I was mainly nervous about personal security, because on the astrologer’s advice I was required to stay in a very cheap motel, and I knew that would involve staying in a rough part of town. And Dallas has some very rough and dangerous areas.

I wasn’t so much worried about myself, but more concerned about Jennifer.

I had to invoke my PGS and trust that it would lead me to a suitable place that would meet the astrologer’s needs, and yet still be safe. Or relatively safe.

The Shady Oaks Motel, at $28 a night, met all my needs. It was relatively safe, although the bullet-proof glass “reception” window, the metal slide box and speaker-grill, were all a bit disconcerting. And then there was the sign by the reception window which read:

No prostitution
No drug dealing
No weapons

But what was really disconcerting was the putrid energy coming through the wall from the people in the room next door.

I won’t reveal what we heard, because of piracy issues – but it was disturbing. Very disturbing. So disturbing that by the third day, Jennifer began to feel physically ill.

I’ll never forget on the 4th day, the excitement of listening to my voice mail and hearing Joni Patry, the Dallas Vedic Astrologer, telling me that she was going to come around immediately and get us out of that “hell hole.”

Joni, who subsequently became a wonderful friend, set us up in a grand old-styled five star hotel in downtown – the absolute antithesis of the Shady Oaks. At last we had a room with a decent lock, and where we couldn’t hear what was going on next door.

I was nervous too more generally though – perhaps “anxious” is a better word. I was making every decision intuitively: What I did, where I went, who I spoke to and who I spent time with.

What was making me anxious though was something much larger than day to day intuitive decisions – it was the prediction. Dr. Bhatt had given me a grandiose prediction that he was absolutely convinced would come true – if I went to Dallas and stayed there.

When I asked Joni for a second opinion, I was quite convinced that she would come back and say politely that it was all rubbish, and that my future was entirely different to what dr. Bhatt had predicted.

That didn’t happen. She not only affirmed his prediction, she was able to give me even more detail of what she believed was in store for me. It was all consistent with Dr. Bhatt. She was astonished. She said she’d never read a chart like mine. I subsequently spoke to a couple of her clients who swore by the accuracy of her readings.

Not only that, but Joni did a “relocation” chart for me, where she factored Dallas into the equation, to try and figure out why Dr. Bhatt had told me to go there. And sure enough, her relocation chart showed that my future was even rosier should I spend time in Dallas.

You’d think I’d be elated. You’d think I’d be jumping for joy.

Anything but.

I felt anxious, disturbed, and confused.

I mean, these astrologers are saying these incredible things might really happen, but they also talk about free will. So what if I screw things up? What if I blow it all, because I don’t do something right, or because my intentions are muddied or not pure enough?

What if I’m a fraud, deep down?
What if I’m a gigantic fake?
What if I don’t deserve all these wonderful things that could be just around the corner?

All this was coursing through my mind over the fifteen days I was in Dallas. And that of course was problematic, because then I began to worry that if I had queries or I was confused or not feeling like I was worthy, then those thoughts in of themselves would cause everything to come unstuck.

Surely if this was to happen, I had to believe it 100%, and not question it. But I was questioning. Wouldn’t you?

And then there was the angel.

The lady in the coffee shop who told me that she was my Guardian Angel.

I mean, if that had happened in a coffee shop in Sydney, or in LA, I would have smiled and said: Great audition. I almost believed you. And I would have walked quickly away.

But this happened right next to the hotel in which I was staying, in downtown Dallas, in the place where the astrologer said I had to go.

Rachit, who is an avowed agnostic, said that he believed she was an angel. Jennifer, who met her, said she was someone who had “shifted into a transcendent state.”

When the woman, who told me her name was Mary Magdeline (“Like in the Bible,” she said) put out her hand and cupped my face and looked into my eyes and said to me: I love you Bill, well that freaked me out. Seriously. It freaked me out.

This was not a come-on, a pickup, there was nothing in her eyes other than pure radiant love. I don’t mean to get icky here, but that’s the only way I can describe it. Jennifer was standing right by my side when she said this.

The woman wasn’t suffering from mental health issues, as far as I could tell. There was a serenity, a calmness, a lucidity and knowingness about her – an authority or confidence – that is what probably made Jennifer think that she was transcendent.

What I didn’t say on the previous posts, but I’ll tell you now, is that she said to me that she had come from the past, where we’d been together, into this moment in the future to tell me that everything will be okay. And for me not to worry.

That’s what she said.

She also said that she would be with me in the future, as my Guardian Angel. That she would be with me to help me and support me.

I mean, how am I to react to this?

Put yourself in my shoes.

She could have been a homeless person seeking attention. She wore exactly the same clothes both times I saw her – baggy jeans, baggy jacket with a hoodie. You could not determine her figure from what she wore. Yet her face was slim. She sat in the furtherest corner of the coffee shop, she never spoke to anyone other than me, and she never ordered anything to eat or drink. She just sat reading the newspapers, keeping to herself.

After the first meeting, I checked the coffee shop each morning but she was never there. Not until the very last morning. It was as though she’d appeared to give me her last reassuring message.

Interestingly, when I later interviewed Dr. Dean Radin from the Institute of Noetic Sciences in Northern California, he emphasised that linear time as we understand it simply does not exist. Time can bend and warp and fold in on itself. He and other research scientists have conducted experiments which have proven that people can react to stimuli that occur in the future.

How did I feel when this lady told me that she’d come forward into the future to meet me? That she was my Guardian Angel? All I can tell you is that it shook me up. Big time. And it still shakes me up, when I think about it.

Do I believe her?

Yes I do.

And the reason I say this is because of her face. Her face was pure radiant love. Without any agenda or subtext or any hint of wanting something from me. It was a completely open honest transparent face, full of compassion. If an angel was going to present in the here-and-now, then it would probably have a face like hers.

Okay – let’s move on from the angel. Or the desperate homeless person in the baggy jeans with psychotic narcissistic tendencies – whichever way you wish to look at it.

Then there was the meeting with Mr. Trammell Crow, one of the most reclusive and elusive billionaires in Dallas. A true eccentric.

How did I get to have a three hour meeting in his private home on a Sunday night – my last night in Dallas – when two days earlier I didn’t even know who he was?

That was weird.

Then there were the light tracks above my head in my hotel room, which appeared at 4:44am after I said the mantra: The path to my fixed purpose is laid with iron rails, whereon my soul is grooved to run. 

That too was weird. Again, seriously weird.

The whole trip was strange.

I felt different in Dallas. Dr. Bhatt talked about the “cosmic rays,” and I’m not sure if it was imagined, but I felt lighter, more energised, more awake.

Awake to moments, to possibilities, to wonderful whacky strangeness.

If it weren’t for Christmas, I would have stayed, because good things were beginning to happen. Dr. Bhatt said I should stay a further 30 days if good things began to happen, and really I should have stayed. But Jennifer and I wanted to come back home and celebrate Christmas with our family.

I had a dream last night – I woke up at 4:24am with my only recollection of the dream being that I’d been walking in amongst the high rise skyscrapers of Dallas, all shiny and reflective from the bright cosmic rays. And the overwhelming feeling I had from the dream was that everything was unfolding as it should, and that everything was alright.

Good things are now in train, as a result of Dallas.

Droplets
become
trickles
become
streams
become
rivers
become
seas
become
oceans.

It was coming on 5pm at the Farmer’s Market on Fairfax in Los Angeles.

I’d just come from an important meeting, and I had to meet Jennifer. We’d arranged to meet in the carpark of the Farmer’s Market.

But everyone was Christmas shopping, and the carpark was full.

The boom gate was down.

There was a sign directing cars to another lot somewhere else.

But I didn’t want to go somewhere else. I wanted to park in the Farmer’s Market. That’s where I said I’d meet Jennifer, and that’s where I wanted to park.

As I approached the boom gate I saw the cars in front of me diverting to the other carpark.

Car after car diverted to the other carpark.

I didn’t want to.

The car in front of me peeled off to go to the other carpark, leaving me the next car to approach the boom gate.

I looked at the sign directing me to the other carpark but I drove past it and drove up to the boom gate. The carpark was full alright. It was jammed.

As I got to the gate, I noticed a car pulling out, preparing to leave.

I punched the big button for a ticket, and the boom gate went up. And as the car drove off I slipped into the most perfect car space I could have possibly imagined.

Okay – what happened there?
A lot happened.
Let me explain –

Firstly, this was not unusual. I had noticed that since coming back from Dallas, this happened every time I required a park. And I mean every time. 

There’s a coffee shop on Main Street, in Santa Monica, that Jennifer and I like to go to of a morning. It’s called The Novel Cafe. It does great coffee and it’s a quiet relaxing place where we can talk. We often meet our friend Andrea Keir there.

Problem is, parking.

There’s only street parking. And usually there are no spots on the street.

Yet morning after morning, as I’ve driven up to the cafe, someone has pulled out right in front of me and provided me with the car space right out front. Literally right out front.

That happened three mornings in a row earlier this week. And these are three hour parking spaces. There’s not a big turnover.

On the one occasion when it didn’t happen, I noticed a spot across the road and I got that. Okay it wasn’t as perfect as getting the space right out front, but hey, I figured I was being taught a lesson in humility. Not to get too cocky!

Getting the perfect parking space was happening elsewhere too – in crowded shopping lots, outside of restaurants, everywhere I needed to go, it seemed that miraculously, someone would drive out just as I was approaching, so that I could be the only possible car to get the space.

It was getting freaky, it was happening so consistently. And then finally this happened at the Farmer’s Market.

As I sat in the car waiting for Jennifer, I began to think about how to transfer this capacity to manifest the perfect car space into my everyday life.

How can I take the perfect car space home with me?

Okay, so before I get into that, let’s examine in detail what happened.

1. I didn’t want to go to another carpark further away. Everyone else was prepared to obey the sign. I wasn’t. I swam against the current. Everyone went downstream, I went upstream. Why? Not because I’m cannier or more obstinate or think I’m more special than the other drivers. It’s simply because I believed that the perfect car space was waiting for me. Simple as that. I didn’t believe the sign that said CAR PARK FULL. I simply didn’t believe it. I knew there would be a space for me, if I asked. So I asked
2.  Yes I asked. And that’s what I’d done on the other occasions when the car spaces miraculously opened up for me. I’d asked. As I was driving up to that boom gate I asked for the most perfect car space, and bloody hell, there it appeared.
3. I trusted. I trusted that even on one of the busiest shopping days of the year, that I would get a parking space. Not just any parking space, but the perfect parking space.
4. I surrendered. I risked other drivers honking me, waiting at the boom gate. I risked the personal humiliation of having to reverse out and meekly drive off to another car parking lot quite some distance away. But I knew that wouldn’t happen, because I trusted and I’d surrendered to whatever presented itself to me. Surrendering is so important in all this. You won’t get what you want unless you surrender to the outcome, irrespective of whether it be good or bad.
5. I acted. As i approached the boom gate I saw the car beginning to leave, and I drove in to the waiting car space. I did something. I put my asking, my trusting, my surrendering, into action.

So often in life we drive to the other parking lot, further away from where we want to be, because we’re directed there by orthodoxy. By authority. By our own willingness to accept something that’s not perfect for us.

So often in life we have to walk a long distance to where we really want to go. We put up with the inconvenience, with the aggravation, with the loss of time and efficiency, we put up with the additional effort, and we begin to accept this as a natural part of our lives.

It doesn’t have to be.

You don’t have to walk a half mile to where you really want to be. You can go directly there, if you really want to. All you have to do is BELIEVE, ASK, TRUST, SURRENDER, ACT.

As I sat waiting for Jennifer, it occurred to me that if I applied my method of getting a perfect parking space to the other aspects of my life, then everything would be so much easier.

I would have whatever I wanted, without effort.

Without walking that half mile.

There’s another aspect to these perfect parking spaces that I’ve been given lately –

I see them as signs that I’m on the right path, that I’m doing what I should be doing, that everything is ok and that my guys are in my corner, cheering me on.

A few days before leaving the US, Jennifer and I had a wonderful lunch with two friends from this blog –

Michael and Kathryn Schlesinger drove all the way from Newport Beach up to LA for the lunch, which was incredibly generous of them.

Over lunch, Michael said something which has stayed with me since. I’m paraphrasing now, but he said something along the lines of: I’m astonished at how you’ve “exploded the division” between your personal life and your professional life.

I laughed – and quickly took a slug of my Bohemia beer – and told him that it had been a conscious decision to do that – but not one that I’d taken lightly.

Basically what we were talking about is my “coming out,” so to speak – publicly stating my deeply felt personal and spiritual beliefs within a professional context.

As I’ve said on this blog before, the film industry is a harsh judge of character. Surprisingly so, because you would consider it very much a liberal art. But it ain’t necessarily so, as the song goes.

If you make movies, like I do, then you quickly become a brand. Stephen Spielberg has a brand. Martin Scorcese has a brand. David Fincher has a brand. The Coen brothers have a brand.

Your career can come unstuck if you mess with that brand. If you confuse your audience, or more importantly, your financial backers.

You don’t buy a Stephen King novel to read chick lit. You don’t go to a Rolling Stones concert to see Mick Jagger do boy band numbers. You wouldn’t hire Frank Gehry to build a tool shed – or if you did, it would cost you a fortune and be the most amazingly designed tool shed ever!

Every creative person has a brand, whether they’re aware of it or not. It’s their signature voice, their unique take on the world, it’s their particular eye, as the French would say.

My brand has always been a mess. Right from the start.

Why?

Because my interest in cinematic storytelling has lurched between edgy thrillers, comedies, socially relevant films, with the odd historical drama thrown in.

I’ve been the antithesis of a clear brand. But at the very least, you could say that I’m that guy that makes movies.

Now, I’m that guy that believes in intuition and angels and stuff like that.

The subtext would be that I’ve become a whacko. Or I’ve turned religious – a Bible basher. Or that I’m on some kind of personal mission to convert people to my crazy beliefs.

Angels? Give me a break – they’d say…

I remember when I made the conscious decision to get serious about taking a spiritual journey. It was when I began this blog. In fact, it was when I made the decision to walk the Camino.

As I’ve said before, I didn’t know why I felt so compelled to walk the Camino, but having made that decision, I then decided that I had to link it to PGS, and the film I wanted to make on intuition.

I decided that I would walk the Camino intuitively, and see what happened.

So when I decided to write a blog – originally just for my family and a handful of friends – I decided to call the blog PGStheway.com.

In other words, I was going to be publicly stating that I believed in intuition.

I remember at the time hesitating, because I knew even then it was a position I couldn’t retreat from. Once stated, I could never go back, I could never hide, I could never be equivocal.

I could not approach it half-hearted. If I was to very publicly embrace the notion of intuition, then it had to be with full commitment. To use Dr. Bimal Bhatt’s phrase, I had to be bold. 

This had other more complex implications.

I had to think deeply about how I should approach the film. Would it be a dispassionate objective film about intuition, or would it be subjective, and intrinsically personal. I felt it had to be the latter, if it was mean anything to me, and if it were to connect to a broad audience.

I felt an audience would be more interested in a personal journey rather than a dry objective journalistic account about intuition.

So it was all very much intertwined. But I felt at the time of starting this blog that it was the defining moment for me – in many ways the moment my life moved into a new phase – a spiritual phase.

Walking the Camino, as I’ve said before, was not the agent of transformative change – it was more a stage of purification and recalibration that I needed to undergo for changes that had begun within some time before.

Even so, I started out tentatively. I recently re-read some of my early entries on this blog. Coming on two years ago. My goodness I’ve changed. And I think that’s what Michael was alluding to when he talked about the explosion of division.

Whist in Dallas I posted what I believed in, and what I didn’t believe in. That was a tough post for me. Because for the first time I stated publicly what my beliefs were.

Dallas – Day 13 / pt1

I’m sure it would have come as a shock even to my family. I mean, I don’t really talk about this stuff. But I posted it online. It went out on Facebook, and Twitter. Cumulatively there are a lot of people world wide read these posts.

But here’s what I also believe – that if you are going to embark on a spiritual journey, then you can;t hide, and you can’t be equivocal about it. You have to embrace it fully, and move forward without fear of ridicule or judgement or humiliation.

Interestingly, I’ve lost some friends.

Jennifer told me this would happen.

Some friends have dropped off. They don’t return calls anymore, they don’t go out of their way to see me when I wander onto their turf, my emails are ignored, they’ve either unfriended me on Facebook, or they simply don’t appear on my Timeline anymore.

I’m cool with that. That’s their choice.

Because Jennifer also said that for each friend I lose, I’ll gain many more new ones.

And that’s happened too. Over the past eighteen months or so I’ve gained so many friends all over the world – friendships that are deep, lasting and profound.

I find myself signing some emails – With love… there’s no way in the world I would have done that before all this started. In Dallas, I met up with a good friend, Adrienne. She hand’t seen me in over ten years. She said I was almost a different person to how she remembered me – she said I was a much kinder gentler person.

When she saw me last, I was producing and directing a thriller in New Orleans, where I had that incident in the car with the “voice,” the incident that started all this. At the time I was having difficulties with a particular actor. And during filming my father died. It was a tough emotionally wrenching shoot for me – one that had ramifications for years to come.

I’m not making excuses, I’m just saying that my job at times has required me being the antithesis of a kind gentle man. At times I’ve had to be singular and uncompromising in my  pursuit of what I see to be artistic truth.

That was then, this is now. For me there’s now no separation between my personal self and professional self. I’ve exploded the division, as Michael so astutely noted.

I’ve had to, to keep the integrity of my endeavour.

What is my endeavour?

To try and discover my true nature… and the true nature of my existence.

Our existence.

That does require me being a kind gentle person.

And each day I try…

In a few hours Jennifer and I will fly back to Australia.

The Texas Cosmic Rays Experiment has been a success.

The whole trip has been a success.

I’d like to thank all those extraordinary people who agreed to be interviewed. Your contributions will add greatly to a deeper understanding not only of intuition, but of how we live moment to moment in this illusory world.

Jennifer and I return to Australia for Christmas with all our family in Mudgee – something that hasn’t happened for quite a few years.

I will be reviewing all the footage shot, and prepping the next stage of the production.

Thank you to Dr. Bimal Bhatt, for awakening me to the possibilities of astrology, and to Joni Patry for explaining it to me in such plain speak, and for all your incredible support and encouragement.

It’s because of you two astrologers that I now can see clearly what I have to do.

There’s nothing stopping me now, other than my own fear or disbelief.

Neither of which I’m now prone to!

This morning, Sunday morning in LA, I stopped into a Starbucks for a morning coffee before embarking on a 50ml drive up the coast.

As I was leaving the store, heading back to my car, I passed a man sitting in a parked car. His window was rolled down and as I walked past, he looked up at me and said:

Drive carefully today. 

His words were a shock. As I walked back to my car, I wondered:

Why did he say this to me?
How did he know I had a long and tricky drive ahead of me?
Why did he talk to me at all?
If he’d wanted to say something to me, why didn’t he just say: Good morning… ?

It was baffling.

I got to my car and told Jennifer, then grabbed my camera and went back to his car.

The man was fat – sorry, don’t mean to be mean, but he was fat. And he was unshaven. His car was old and cheap and dirty. The man looked up at me as I came back with my camera.

The conversation went something like this –

Me: Sir, would you mind if I took your photo?
Him: Why?
Me: I think you could be an angel.
Him: I AM an angel.
Me: You are?
Him: But you can’t take my photo.
Me: Can I ask why not?
Him: They’ll kidnap me.
Me: Who?
Him: I have a very famous daughter. She’s a singer. She’s very rich.
Me: Would I know her?
Him: They’ve already tried once before.
Me: Tried what?
Him: To kidnap me. They’ll want her to pay. They’ve already tried once.
Me: What happened?
Him: One of them ran at me. From across the street. But he was hit by a car.
Me: Was he killed?
Him: I don’t want you to sell the photo.
Me: I won’t sell it. I just want to put it up on my blog.
Him: You could sell it for a lot of money. My daughter’s a singer. She’s very rich.
Me: Yes, so you said.
(then, preparing to take the photo)
Me: Why did you tell me to drive carefully today?
Him: What did I say?
Me: You told me to drive carefully today.
Him: Did I? When?
Me: Just before. As I was walking past. (then) How did you know I’m about to start a long drive?
Him: You gotta drive carefully. You have to keep your doors locked. And the windows up.
Me: Why?
Him: Otherwise they’ll try to kidnap you.
Me: I see. (then) And why did you say you were an angel?
Him: Did I? When?
(taking photo)
Me: Just before.
Him: (playing with his cell phone) You should google my daughter. She’s famous. She’s a singer. She’s very rich.
(looking up at me)
Him: You’re not going to sell that photo are you?

As I drove away, I recounted the conversation with Jennifer. We agreed that I should drive carefully.

Just in case…