My beloved footy team, the Sydney Swans, today lost the Grand Finals – the Super Bowl of Aussie Rules football.

They not only lost – they got smashed.

It was so bad that in the last quarter I started doing emails. Then I had a shower. Then I took the dog for a walk around the block, even though I don’t have a dog.

Nor do I have a block.

I simply couldn’t watch.

I love my team. Whether they win or lose. That’s probably the definition of a fan. For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. Till death do us part.

Today they died.

My good friends Peter Landers and Julie (the famed Landers Express) are ardent Hawthorn supporters. The Hawks. They’re the team that won. They’re the team that embarrassed us. They’re the team that showed us how to play Grand Final footy.

Hard.

Peter and Julie wear orange and brown underwear, I swear. They’re the Hawk’s colours. This morning they probably ate bird food for breakfast. They love their Hawks just like I love my Swans.

And I’m delighted for them that their team won. Because they played better footy, and were by far the best team out on the park today.

Was I disappointed? Was I shattered?

No, not really. I was disappointed it wasn’t more of a contest. I’d have enjoyed a closer match. But it wasn’t to be. This generation of Hawthorn players, with their coach, are heading into legendary territory. Today was a back-to-back flag win. That happens rarely.

Fact is, my team gave me so much pleasure this season. The characters, the ups and downs, the grace and doggedness under pressure at times. I watch sport because of the Shakespearean nature of it.

Like politics.

It’s all about the people, the personalities, the ambitions, the failings, the strength of will, the grit. As with anything, the more you invest in a team, the more you get out of it.

I’ve got a lot out of the Swannies over the years.

At this point in my life, I’m trying to divest myself of outcomes. The enjoyment comes from watching the game, not from winning or losing.

Detachment.

It’s not taking the fun and enjoyment out of the game – on the contrary, when your team loses, why should you be upset? You should be happy for the fans of the other team.

Similarly when your team wins, it’s ungracious to gush and carry on. Where does that get you? Success and failure come and go in sport, as in life. Often times failure is fundamental to future success. The biggest lessons are forged out of failure, or rejection.

I was watching the #goswans Twitter feeds today, and some of the comments from the Hawk supporters, and the Swans supporters too, were pretty foul. Where does that get you? It might make you feel good momentarily, but that kind of unsympathetic energy only comes back at you at some later stage.

Some people – some fans – get very angry. They get angry at their team for losing – for letting them down. And they get angry at the other team for winning. And sometimes they get angry at the referee for what they believe are bad decisions, which might have contributed to their team’s loss.

The pinnacle of this is the rioting and violence we sometimes see in Europe at football games – where the fans are often penned in like animals with wire grills around them and rows of police with tear gas weapons, to stop them attacking the fans from the other side.

Craziness.

Often these violent fans are mired in social problems at home or in the workplace. Many are unemployed, depressed, they have low self-esteem etc. And they identify so strongly with their team that when they lose, it’s a personal slight. A denigration of how they see themselves. And the anger that’s been festering at home or at work explodes viciously at the stadium.

Fact is there’s no such thing as winning or losing. Not on an esoteric level. In politics I used to get so het up about particular parties and politicians – and now I realise they’re all pretty much the same. The shading is a bit different, that’s all.

What did The Who say?
Meet the new boss… same as the old boss.
That pretty much sums it up for me.

I’m delighted for the Hawthorn supporters that their team won so convincingly. I’m happy for the Landers Express, because now Peter has something to rib me about for the next twelve months – until next year’s Grand Final when my tranquil and elegant  Swannies will turn those predatory carrion eating Hawks into a bunch of yukky colored feather dusters…

The Vatican isn’t quite as laid back as some of the ashrams in India, that’s for sure!

We’ve been trying on several fronts for months now to get a high level interview at the Vatican – but evidently it’s a very bureaucratic place, and time is not of the essence in The Holy See.

But – I am nothing but tenacious. And I’m not easily thwarted.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I met a fellow in the Parmarth ashram in Rishikesh who turned out to be an official Vatican photographer for twenty years. He’s proven to be of enormous help. He’s since connected me to a filmmaker in Rome who is also helping. His name is Piotr, and he’s trying to expedite my request for an interview.

And last night we met our Italian assistant. Her name is Elena, and she was introduced to us through Rachit (gee, even when I type it my fingers really want to type “Ratshit.” It’s all I can do to stop myself…)

Anyway Elena recently completed her masters degree in film studies at the London Film School. She’s Italian, lives outside of Florence, and she’s come on board to help us too. She speaks fluent English, and she’s delightful. Already it looks like she’s lined up some interesting interviewees outside of the Vatican.

So with Piotr and Elena and Loreto (the former Vatican photographer), we have a formidable group working on our behalf to maximise our time here.

By the way, Australian coffee is better than Italian coffee…

I want to recount to you something that happened to me this morning – something I witnessed – and it will stay with me forever.

I’m still deeply affected – and felt I had to put down my thoughts, and my stirred emotions – straight away.

Last night I couldn’t sleep – jet lag from the flight from India – and I woke up at 3am. Finally realising I wouldn’t get back to sleep, I decided to head out in the dark to film the sunrise over Assisi for the movie.

A couple of kms out of town I found a good position, so in the dark I set up the tripod and waited. The sunrise was truly spectacular. The light was magical, and transcendent. I shot a lot of footage, and took some stills.

Once the light became uninteresting, I packed up and headed back up the hill into the ancient town. I decided I’d go to the Basilica – the massive Church on the edge of the ridge – and take some shots while the town was still empty of tourists.

I got some nice shots – and as I walked back to the hotel I noticed someone coming slowly up the hill. At first from a distance I thought it was a “little person,” because he was quite small.

But as I got closer I realised it was a man making his way up the hill on his knees, heading to the Basilica.

He was wearing rags stitched together – it looked like hessian cloth from flour or wheat sacks – and he had a cord around his waist. His legs were thin, his feet dirty and thick with callous. I glanced at his face – he had a beard, and his eyes were lowered to the ground.

He looked like Jesus.

His moved slowly – and I came around behind him and followed him up the hill. I put my camera onto silent mode so that the sound of the shutter didn’t disturb him. I was very conscious that I was witnessing something quite profound, and I didn’t want to intrude.

Immediately a whole bunch of questions hit me –

• Where had he come from?
• How far had he come?
• What was his story?
• What had triggered the need for him to do this?
• Was he mentally ill?

It was a dreadful thing to ask myself – was he mentally ill? – because I guess I couldn’t fathom the extreme faith of his actions. And it seemed so anachronistic for him to be doing this. Someone in their right mind simply doesn’t do that kind of thing in this day and age.

And yet I’d just come from India where I’d seen pilgrims prostrating themselves along the ground to reach the Dalai Lama’s Temple. It’s done in other cultures, why not ours?

Irrespective, I kept photographing him – following him as he got closer to the Basilica.

A car passed and honked it’s horn at him because he was in the middle of the road. I felt his violation. It was like a spear in his side. He took no notice. He kept moving inexorably up the hill to the ancient church.

I didn’t want to get in front of him and photograph his face. That too I felt would be a violation. I didn’t want to intrude. I just wanted to observe, and try to capture the essence of the man’s actions, and his faith.

Now several hours later, as I look back on the images I took, I’m still deeply moved. And still the questions remain, and of course they will always be unanswered.

We who walk the Camino call ourselves pilgrims. I don’t really feel I can call myself that anymore, not after witnessing what I witnessed this morning.

It’s 4am, I’m in Assisi, and I’m jet lagged. Normally when I’m bored like this I go onto Amazon and see how many books I’ve sold.

That usually sends me to sleep really fast.

But I noticed that someone has posted up a new review on Amazon, and it knocked me sideways.

As ardent readers of this blog would know, I am a deeply humble self effacing person – a true pilgrim – and i never indulge in tacky and degrading self promotion.

But I’ll make this one exception.

Here are some shots I quite like which haven’t yet gone up on this blog.

Except for one – the last shot – which is my favourite so far. I think it captures the energy and tone of Bombay beautifully.

But you may not agree. You might think the shot is inept, or stupid, or you just don’t get it. That’s the wonderful thing about photography – it’s a completely subjective and interpretive medium… no-one is right or wrong.

Irrespective, I hope you enjoy these pics –

Julian is now two thirds of the way through his mammoth pilgrimage. It’s been very tough for him at times – what with theft, sunstroke, recurring illness, and the disappointment he’s faced several times with the changing nature of The Way.

You may not always agree with Julian, but I personally feel privileged to be able to post his observations on this blog – because he walked his first Camino before most of us had even heard of it. He really is the true pilgrim, in action and in spirit.

Here is his latest guest post:

Dawn and Dusk

This is a very different Camino, even though it’s also more of the same.

I thought that this would be my toughest Pilgrimage for my knees, but it’s turning out to be my toughest Pilgrimage for some completely different reasons. My knees have been behaving quite civilly, and I’ve been not using my bracers for four weeks and not been taking my painkillers for three, even though my speed remains slow, and my KM/day low.

An unexpected belly illness has been eating into both my body and my budget for several weeks, though I think it’s now getting under control, but some un-pilgrim has also stolen my telephone, and the French “social” “services” seem to have decided to leave me close to penniless for my second half of theWay.

The pennilessness has now happened Every Single Pilgrimage, no matter what I try and do to prevent it, though this is the first time I’ve needed to start begging. The loss of the ‘phone is a litle different, because even though it makes my contact with the world beyond the Camino much harder, it is also bringing me back closer into what the Camino actually should be — similar to the penniless, really.

The un-pilgrims are harder to deal with — not those in the process of learning, though talking with them remains difficult until they get their heads ’round the Camino a bit more ; but the massive numbers of Tourigrinos and, well, … just hikers who have not even the faintest idea of how to even commence a Pilgrimage and yet do all that they can to monopolise all of the facilities for their own very un-spiritual needs.

Ten years ago, the 5AM crowd were easy to locate and avoid ; they travelled in little groups, and one could simply move on to the next pueblo. Less said about the 4AM people, the better.

In 2014, I am typically the ONLY person remaining in the Refugio when dawn breaks, and I am immensely saddened by this crowd of hikers who never let themselves be woken by the natural Grace and Beauty of the pre-Dawn Light upon their eyelids, nor experience the natural rest of a Dusk ’til Dawn sleep.

They hike, and do not seek.

In the plane now on my way to Italy, I have time to reflect on the two weeks in India.

It was quite extraordinary.

From the overwhelming ceremony of Ganpati on the beach of Bombay, to visiting the Dalai Lama's temple in Dharamsala, I feel as though so much happened in such an intensely short period of time.

During the two weeks I shot about 12 hrs of material. That's a lot. I've been able to capture some terrific stuff, and most importantly I've left India with footage that will provide a greater understanding of intuition from the perspective of the East.

The time at Parmarth ashram was a true highlight – as was the conversation with the young British born Swami by the banks of the Ganges. He was able to articulate the process of intuition in very clear unambiguous terms.

Spending time at the Yoga Institute in Bombay was also wonderful, and having my astrological charts read by Dr. Bhatt was truly fascinating. Meeting up with my billionaire friend Pradeep was also a wonderful highlight. Already he has aided the film enormously.

Stepping away from the film – although I don't know that I can really because my journey is the film's journey, and the film's journey is my journey – I leave India with a greater sense of purpose.

The Buddhist monk in Dharamsala said that my life was saved by my karmic imprint because I had more work to do. My time wasn't up. And that it would be work that would benefit many.

Dr. Bhatt, the astrologer, said the same. His predictions of the immense wealth coming my way were outrageous – but he said it would come as a consequence of my doing something beneficial for mankind.

Is making this film what they're both referring to?

I don't know.

All I know is that I have to do it. I'm literally just following my intuition – my Personal Guidance System. I can't think of outcomes – I can only think of what's immediately ahead, and leave myself open to the whims of the cosmos.

And trust. That's the thing. Trust that what's around the corner for me is something, someone, who will take me to the next stage of this journey.

I'm pleased the funding for this film is coming in progressively. If I'd started out with the full budget, I probably would have approached it differently. I would have imposed a form on it – a structure – and it possibly would not have been as intuitive as it's now turning out to be.

The film is becoming the film it should be.

Me? I'm changing. I can feel it. I'll come back from this trip slightly different. The Camino was the first step in my changing – it pressed the Hard Reset button. Not just the reset button, it was a “hard” reset, which in tech terms means a complete reset. Bringing everything back to a default position. Getting rid of accumulated junk.

In a way, even though I didn't realise it at the time, walking the Camino was a necessary precursor to making this film. In fact it was really the start of the film for me.

During these past two weeks I've been informed, deeply touched, and inspired by the people I've met. But perhaps what touched me most were the simple moments –

• Sitting in the dark in the cafe in Dharamsala with the old lady selling bangles, laughing and chatting, even though we couldn't speak each other's language.
• The dignified bow of the Sikh rickshaw driver in Chandigarh.
• The grace and humility of those that came down to the banks of the Ganges at Rishikesh at sunrise, to perform their daily rituals.
• The vibrational power of the Aarti ceremony at Parmarth, and the holy presence of Swamiji.
• The image of the ascetic doing his yoga by the Ganges under the Laxman Jhulia bridge.
• The way the old man at the chai stall in Rishikesh tied his turban before I took his photo. The pride of the man… and then later when he posed for me, ramrod straight, while bathing in the sacred waters.

These simple moments resonate with me, and will always.

I have no idea at this stage how this film will turn out – all I know is that already I've managed to capture some very special moments with some unique and wise people.

And I feel very fortunate, and grateful, to be given this opportunity.

Posted with Blogsy

Today Jennifer and I leave India and travel to Italy to continue filming.

We’ll be back in India in early October, to shoot the interview with Swamiji Chidanand and do a few more pickups before returning to Australia.

Then in early November we head to the US. I want to do some filming in the Stats before I head to Dallas, because according to the astrologer’s predictions, from November 23rd on I can’t leave Dallas for at least fifteen days.

Yesterday was another of those crazy serendipitous days. Where things just fell into place for me, and for the film.

We began filming early, at the Dalai Lama’s Temple – and then I got a phone call from my Pradeep.

Anyway he wanted to know how the filming was progressing, and asked my schedule. I told him we would soon be flying to Delhi. Pradeep lives in Bombay but he said he was currently in Delhi, and when I land I should contact him and we should meet up.

Pradeep is immediate. Everything has to be done now. He is literally a self made billionaire – and knowing him now as I do, I can see how he made his fortune. He is impetuous, he is very very smart, and he follows through.

He is also incredibly frugal. He will spend an eye-watering amount of money on a hand made diamond encrusted watch, and yet he will refuse to call me on my Australian mobile, because it costs him. He sends me SMSs to call him.

Anyway he came over to our hotel and asked if we wanted to have dinner with a friend. Jennifer and I were exhausted, and needed to pack for our trip tomorrow, but Bimal has become a very good friend – plus he’s an enormously charming and funny fellow, so we said yes.

He took us in his chauffeur driven S series Mercedes to a house which has to be the most magnificent residence I’ve been in during all my time in India. For a start it was a stand alone house in the centre of Delhi, which is very unusual. It was magnificently built architecturally, rising three stories with a huge basement too.

Inside it was like walking into a Vogue Living residence. The opulence was understated but unmistakable. The artworks, the plush furnishings, marble floors everywhere. The house included a huge room set up as a temple, because he and his wife are very religious. They have a staff of four just to look after the temple – not to mention all the other staff for house keeping, cooking, etc.

Over one of the finest Indian meals I’ve ever had, prepared by his private chef, he told us how he’d made his money. As a young man he started a business making reflective signs. He sold these signs mainly to Government departments which needed road signs.

But one day he got a flash of – yes, intuition. He noticed that car number plates were at that time just aluminium, and they deteriorated quickly. There are over 250 million vehicles registered in India, and millions requiring number plates each week.

So he spent six years getting the laws changed throughout all the various states and districts in India, requiring into be compulsory to have reflective number plates. Now he is the major manufacturer of these number plates not only in India, but throughout the world.

He and Pradeep have been friends for more than forty years. They grew up together as kids. They both had no money.

Before dinner Pradeep extolled the virtues of my film to his friend, and urged me to show him the sizzle reel, which I did. He loved it, and said it would be a success.

Pradeep then got on his mobile, dialled a number, then quickly handed me the phone. Here, he said, it’s Bikram Choudry. He is my good friend. He owns some yoga schools. He is in LA – speak to him.

(Pradeep talking to Bikram)

He thrust the phone at me and I was suddenly talking to the legendary Bikram, from Bikram Yoga. He asked when I was coming to Los Angeles, and gave me his private phone number and email and told me to contact him when I was in America, and we would meet and discuss the film.

Wow.

Bikram is also very good friends with Deepak Chopra, and Pradeep said I should ask that Deepak be in the film as well.

You might ask – is Pradeep and his friend going to put money into my film? I don’t know, and I would never ask them. Already Pradeep is contributing to the film in ways money simply couldn’t buy.

I do need funds now for the next phase of the filming – the Dallas stage – but it will come. It’s come in the past when I’ve needed it, and it will come in the future, I have no doubt, because this film wants to be made. I feel that very strongly. It’s now champing at the bit, eager to move forward. I’m just holding the reigns.

So today we fly to Italy, and begin to look at intuition from a Christian perspective. Once again, just as was the case when I set off for India, I have nothing planned, nothing lined up. All I have is that contact with the Vatican photographer that I met at the Rishikesh Parmarth ashram. I’ve since been in touch with him and he’s already started to help me.

I’m not anxious. I trust that the cosmos, the cosmic rays, will guide me.

They’ve done a damn good job so far…

For those of you who have been following this blog recently, you’ll recall that an astrologer read my charts while I was in Bombay.

I’d given him the exact time and place of my birth – and it took him several weeks to do all the calculations.

The astrologer wasn’t some street corner soothsayer – this man is a billionaire many times over, and he’s made his fortune by following his own astrological charts.

He’s a lawyer, he has a doctorate, and his holdings include145 companies that straddle banking, finance, media and gaming. He’s been studying astrology for the past 35 years.

His predictions for me rocked me to the core. They seemed so wild and unbelievable. I filmed it all, not realising as it all unfolded what the stars had in store for me. I’ve since done a cutdown of the sequence, (thank you Rachit for all your help mate!), and here it is:

https://vimeo.com/106721457