Two days out from shoot, another strange occurrence…

I woke up suddenly last night.

A light woke me up. It was the light from my Fitbit watch, on my wrist. For some strange reason, it was rebooting, and the light had woken me –

In all the years I’ve been wearing a Fitbit, this is the first time that’s ever ever rebooted of its own accord. But last night it did, and it woke me.

I watched it, and once the reboot was finished, up came the time on the watch face – in big numerals:

3:33

That’s what came up on my watch face; 3:33. I did a Google search, to find out what 3:33 meant, and I discovered that I was being guided and protected by “one or more Ascended Spiritual Masters,” and that they had heard my call for help.

I have been calling for help in the past few days. The filming for my movie, The Way, My Way, starts the day after tomorrow and I have been going through periods of self-doubt and panic, and yes – fear – and then last night, this happened.

It was just so weird. Like meeting Dana Gassaway in the O Gato Negro restaurant in Santiago a few days earlier, and him telling me he stood on the star in the chapel at the Burgos Cathedral and he too lost his pain. (see previous blog).

To take my mind off things, and to relax, I’ve been reading The Way Some People Die. This is not a spiritual book, this is hard-boiled crime fiction, written in 1951 by Ross Macdonald, regarded as one of the greatest crime authors of all time – up there with Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler.

The New York Times says that he took crime fiction into literature. And I agree. I’m bowled over by his use of prose, and his dissection of the human spirit.

Why aren’t I reading my script? I figure that the more relaxed I am, the better I’m able to tap into my innate storytelling skills – and reading Ross Macdonald reminds me what’s possible.

But getting back to my Fitbit rebooting, and waking me up to tell me it was 3:33. I don’t regard this as coincidence. I do believe now that our spiritual guides connect with us through such occurrences. I never used to believe this stuff, but now I do.

Walking the Camino was the first step in my shift in consciousness.

A chance meeting?

After completing my first Camino in 2013, and after receiving my Compostela and attending the midday Pilgrim’s Mass in the Santiago Cathedral, I then met up with the pilgrims that I’d walked with on and off during the past thirty days: Balazs, Laszlo, Rosa, and Ivan the Terrible and his Beautiful Wife Giovanna.

We went to Santiago’s classic restaurant, the O Gato Negro – and we had a long lunch, and I remember feeling a happiness I’d not felt since my wedding day (at that stage) some thirty-one years earlier.

As part of the film that’s now underway, a reimagining of my Camino Memoir, The Way My Way, we’ll be recreating that lunch in the same part of that tiny restaurant – and today we surveyed the location in preparation for the shoot.

So there were seven of us in the crew in the O Gato Negro today, combining our location survey with lunch, and we were at the same table in the same backroom where I’d had that lunch ten years earlier. A man sitting at a table across from us stared at me and called out: Are you Bill Bennett?

I said yes, and stood as he came over.

He was a big man, in his 70s, an American – and he said: I knew you were in Spain right now but I never thought I’d meet you.

He then went on to explain that he’d read my blog when I walked that Camino in 2013, then he read my book, then he went and saw my film PGS Intuition is your Personal Guidance System when it screened in San Diego in 2018 during its US cinema run. 

That was extraordinary in itself – that we should meet like that.
But the thing that knocked me out was this:

He told me that he read in my blog, then later in my book, that when I arrived into Burgos in 2013, I went immediately into the Cathedral. I was in a great deal of pain from my knee, and I found myself in one of the Cathedral’s chapels. There was a star on the floor of this chapel, made out of black and white tiles, well worn by the centuries. I stood on this star, then felt compelled to look up – and discovered that high in the vaulted ceiling above me was another star, made from leadlight glass.

Immediately I felt a rush run through my body, from the star above me, through the top of my head down through my body into my feet to the star I was standing on, then back up again. I described it at the time as a rush of divine ecstasy.

I then walked out of that Cathedral with no more pain in my knee. 

Anyway, this gentleman told me that a year later, in 2014, he was walking the Camino and he too was in pain when he got to Burgos. His pain was in his feet. He could barely walk. But he remembered what I’d written and so he made his way into the Cathedral and he found the chapel and he too stood on the star – and he too walked away with his pain gone. 

He told me this today in the little restaurant, and I felt incredibly humbled, I have to say. Humbled that I recognised once again that there are greater forces at work than I often acknowledge, and that these forces are working through me and through many others – as a reminder that “…there are more things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” as Hamlet says to Horatio, and as I quote in PGS. 

I left that restaurant today feeling very strange – this gentleman, Dana Gassaway, said that he’d never been to that restaurant before but a Camino friend, Kelly Lin (a Taiwanese pilgrim and author), had suggested it, and had he not been in the backroom he would not have seen me (and recognised me from my blog.)

Not one hour earlier, I was speaking with one of our crew, Paco Plaza, (our brilliant Spanish locations fixer) about getting permission to film in the Burgos Cathedral, and I’d shown him photos of that star on the floor, and the domed star.

I’d explained to him what had happened. How after standing on that star the pain in my knee disappeared. Less than an hour later I met Dana in the O Gato Negro and he told me his story.

A chance meeting?
I don’t think so.
Coincidence?
I don’t think so.

This film is coming together in ways that sometimes leave me in a state of awe and wonder.

Ten years later, I’m back to make a movie ~

Ten years yesterday, I walked into Santiago de Compostela and I stood in front of the Cathedral, like millions had done before me, and I called myself a pilgrim.

I had walked the Camino Frances, some 800kms from St Jean Pied de Port, but I’d walked most of the way in enormous pain with a knee that I would later discover was devoid of cartilage.

I’d walked bone-on-bone.

As I stood in front of the Cathedral I was expecting an epiphany as to why I’d put myself through what had been, at times, a torturous ordeal.

That epiphany never came.

So when I got back home to Australia I wrote a book, hoping that in the writing I would discover why I’d done the pilgrimage. That discovery never came either.

But I began to realise that walking the Camino had set in motion the impetus for change that would happen gradually over the next several years. The change was subtle, and stuttering, but cumulatively over a period of years the transformation was huge. So huge that I now divide my life into the years before the Camino and the years after the Camino.

And now I’m making a movie of that first Camino.

For the past few weeks I’ve been scouting locations during what we call pre-production of the movie. I’m here in Spain with the first troupe of crew – and I’m revisiting places that featured so prominently in my journey.

Yesterday I went back to the albergue in St Jean where I spent my first night before heading off the next morning. I walked through the ancient stone Porte and stood on the bridge where someone took my photo for me.

I walked into the Burgos Cathedral and stood on the star in one of the chapels of that magnificent structure and I looked up at the star above me, in the high ceilinged dome – and I remembered the flush of divine ecstasy that rushed through my body when I stood there ten years earlier.

One of the crew members asked me later how I felt about revisiting these places, reliving the experiences that would later change my life so fundamentally.

Strangely, I feel nothing.
It’s like it all happened to someone else.
I don’t feel in any way sentimental or charged with any great emotion.
I feel like an observer of someone else’s play, sitting at the back of the theatre, looking at it all through a Proscenium Arch.

Perhaps that’s because I’m about to make a film about me, my life, what happened to me – and I can’t afford to get too close. The only way I can make this film is if I stand outside the events, and the person that happens to be me.

As a director I have to look at this purely technically – I have to focus on the craft, and see this person as a character in a story that fascinates and intrigues me, and not because it’s my story, but because it’s a simply a story that I believe might have resonance to an audience.

As soon as I start to see this as my story, I’m dead in the water. It’s not my story. It’s the story of the millions of pilgrims that have walked the Camino before me, and the millions that will walk after me,

It’s a story of the inexplicable and mysterious capacity for the Camino to trigger personal transformation.

Crikey – tomorrow we leave!

Yikes – it’s come up so fast!

Tomorrow Jennifer and I leave for Europe. We’re going to Spain via Munich for a couple of days to see a dear friend who has swung his support behind the movie. Then on Saturday we fly to Madrid to meet up with Line Producer Annie Kinnane and Transport/Unit Manager Dave Suttor.

We’re spending a few days in Santiago de Compostela – the end point of the Camino – spending some time with Camino legend Johnnie Walker, who has very kindly swung his support behind our endeavour which, as the Mastercards ads say, is priceless.

Then we’re driving back to Burgos to meet the second wave of our team coming in.
Then we kick it off seriously.

I’d forgotten how difficult it is to make a feature film.

For the past several years I’ve been working on these theatrical feature documentaries – PGS and Facing Fear. And the next film in the series, on Hope as well. And whilst they’ve required all my skills and experience as a filmmaker, they’re go-karts in comparison to the Formula One of feature films. (If I can use an analogy from my recent newly acquired passion – F1.)

Making a feature film is a privilege.

Films last.
Unlike television which comes and goes,
films last.
I take that seriously.
I’ll have my name on this film and I take that very seriously.

Added to that is the complication that this is a film about myself.

I’ll write a separate blog later about how I didn’t want this film to be made, and how it came into being anyway – but for now let me just say that I don’t want to even think about the personal consequences of this film being poorly received.

I’m putting myself out there, big time.
I stand to be ridiculed as a filmmaker and as a person.
And I’m fine with that.
If you don’t step off the edge you can’t ever know what it’s like to fly.

But back to the production.

I now have the most perfect group of people to work with to make this film something very special. Each one has been handpicked not only for their technical expertise, but also for their “energy.” What they bring to the show energetically. And I don’t mean their enthusiasm, or vigor – I mean what they bring as spiritual beings.

And the cast is perfect too.

Like Nomadland, this is going to be a mix of actors and “actuals,” the actual pilgrims that I met along my way, and who have agreed to come back and play themselves in the movie.

Again I’ll talk more about the casting in a later blog, but just to say that the actors that are in this film will have to tailor their performances to the actuals. To the real people, if I can call them that. That’s going to be a huge acting challenge – to hit that level of truth and naturalism. But again, all the actors in this film are up to it.

Frances McDormand did it beautifully in Nomadland, and won the Best Actress Oscar for her performance.

This is the first feature film I’ve made in thirteen years. And it was ten years before that, that I made The Nugget, starring Eric Bana. I don’t make a feature film unless I feel absolutely committed to telling that particular story. I’ve never been a director-for-hire. I’ve always generated my own material.

Actually, no – that’s not true. I was a director-for-hire on the Sandra Bullock movie I did for Warner Bros, but that was only because the producers who hired me originally were Don Simpson and Jerry Bruckheimer. I really wanted to work with those guys. But then the film went into turnaround and they stepped back. Such is the merry-go-round of Hollywood.

Jean Luc Godard famously said: All I need to make a film is a girl and a gun. (In fact that’s the common belief, that he said that – but I’ve done a deep dive and he was actually quoting from the legendary DW Griffith, director of Birth of a Nation.)

But that aside, I have my girl, I have my gun –
That’s all I need to make a film.


It’s jazz, baby…

Something occurred to me last night.

Most films are orchestral. And by that I mean they are structured, they are ordered. Everyone in the orchestra has their own set and defined roles. They all play music under the direction of the conductor, and according to the score sheets in front of them written by the composer.

The music is formal, at times stiff, and as well, clearly defined. When you go to a concert hall to hear an orchestra play Beethoven’s Fifth, you know what you’re going to hear. Sure, there’ll be some subtle variations according to the interpretation of the conductor, but basically you’re going to hear Beethoven’s Fifth.

The other thing about films being orchestral is that they are large. They are large and they are cumbersome. And because they are large they allow no deviation. A pianist playing Rachmaninov’s 2nd piano concerto isn’t allowed to deviate markedly from Rachmaninov’s original score. And everyone else in that supporting orchestra knows their role and what to do and when to do it.

And when it all clicks it’s magnificent.
Orchestras can and do create transcendent music.
As do some films.
They create transcendent imagery.
And they stir emotions and the intellect unlike any other art form.

That’s why I love making films.

I’ve made my fair share of orchestral films in my time. I’ve walked onto sets in the US and the crew has been so large I haven’t know most of their names. I hated that. I’ve worked on films where, if you need to shift the unit to get a shot, it’s taken several hours, there were so many trucks. I’m not joking.

This next film I’m undertaking is not going to be an orchestral film.
It’s going be jazz, baby!
We’re going to be small and nimble and we’re going to riff.
We’re going to play off each other.
We’re going to create something fresh and vibrant and surprisingly unexpected.

A few years back I took my wife Jennifer to a restaurant in New York called Eleven Madison Park. It’s one of these fancy places where you have to book and pay six months in advance. But it was a special occasion – her birthday.

A fancy restaurant like that can also be orchestral. Large and formal and stiff. But what made this particular restaurant great, and interesting for me, was that they based their whole philosophy on Miles Davis – the legendary jazz musician.

Here’s a New Yorker piece on the restaurant, and the influence of Miles Davis:
https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2012/09/10/check-please-4

The restauranteur compiled a list of eleven words that defined the music of Miles Davis, and he printed them up and hung them on the wall of his kitchen to remind himself and his staff that they needed “a little bit of Miles Davis” in their approach. Those words were:

  • Cool.
  • Endless Reinvention.
  • Inspired.
  • Forward-Moving.
  • Fresh.
  • Collaborative.
  • Spontaneous.
  • Vibrant.
  • Adventurous.
  • Light.
  • Innovative.

These are the words I’ll be bringing to this next film…

How to make a movie on the Camino

It’s been twelve years since The Way, a movie about the Camino starring Martin Sheen, and directed by his son Emilio Estevez, was made.

That film was the impetus for a lot of people to walk the Camino – and in commercial terms, the film made a lot of money. It did really well.

What’s interesting is that there hasn’t been another English language film made since. My movie, The Way, My Way, from my book of the same title, will be the first.

Why hasn’t there been another movie made since? There have been a lot of documentaries, and a few non-English speaking movies – but not an English language feature film.

One of the reasons is that logistically, it’s very difficult.

To capture the essence of the Camino, you really do have to traverse the entirety of The Way – 800kms. For a major production, that’s logistically difficult – what with all the trucks, finding accommodation for all the crew and cast (for a movie, that could be upwards of sixty people, usually more.) And anyone who knows the Camino knows that finding that number of beds – hotel beds, not albergue beds – is a big ask.

Film people wouldn’t ever sleep in an albergue!

The other thing that makes it difficult is that shooting a movie is disruptive. And you can’t disrupt the day-to-day operation of the Camino. You can’t “lock down” sections of the Camino to have your stars walk along an empty stretch of track, and stop pilgrims from walking through shot.

Pilgrims just wouldn’t cop that.

Then there’s the issue of the trucks. Any film production has a massive number of trucks. Moving them through historic towns and villages, often through very narrow lanes, would be a nightmare.

These logistical difficulties have haunted me these last several years.

I want my movie to be authentic, and truthful to the spirit of the Camino. I want it to be real. And whilst I admired The Way enormously, they got a lot wrong. You don’t wear jeans on the Camino, number one. The actress Debra Unger wore jeans and yes she looked great in jeans but it bugged the shit out of me the whole movie. So did the James Nesbitt character, the Irish actor. He wore jeans too. You don’t wear jeans on the Camino.

The actor playing the Dutch pilgrim had two trekking poles and he used them all wrong. That bugged the shit out of me too. Plus partway through the movie the poles disappeared and then he used a wooden staff. What happened to his poles?

I’m being picky, I know – and as I say, I admire the film greatly. And it’s done a huge amount to bring awareness of the Camino to a huge number of people. I aspire to that film’s success.

So what am I going to do?

For quite a while, this was going to be a big budget movie with star casting. I always felt uncomfortable with this approach, because of the logistical difficulties that I’ve mentioned. I always felt it would be extremely difficult, if not impossible, to get that degree of verisimilitude that I sought.

And then Nomadland came along and for me, everything changed.

It won Oscars for Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Actress. It used a mix of actors and non-actors. It was shot in a way that I was familiar with, from my earlier films such as A Street to Die, Backlash, Malpractice, Mortgage, Kiss or Kill, In a Savage Land, and Tempted.

Suddenly I could see a way to make my Camino film without compromise.

And so that’s how I’m approaching it – with a stripped down crew, using many of the actual pilgrims that I met during my walk – they’re coming back to play themselves – and shooting it in such a way that the film captures the true essence of what it’s like to walk the Camino.

In a later post I’ll talk technical stuff – but just to say that it will be super wide screen – 2.40:1 format, and we’re using vintage Leica lenses – 1970’s and 1980’s glass.

Using these lenses will present some major technical difficulties for us, but the “Leica look” will be worth it. From an artistic point of view, I’m very excited by this. It will give the film quite a unique cinematic look and feel.

Once again here is a pic from that Camino I did ten years ago:

The film of the book is happening!

For those of you who’ve followed this blog for some time – and it’s been ten years now! – thank you for persevering with me. I’ve gone quiet for long periods, and have sashayed across to social media, mainly Facebook, to share my views with you.

But now I’ve decided to return to this blog, and write at least once a week, and if needs be more than that, detailing my preparations, and production of the film of my Camino memoir, The Way, My Way.

The book now has more than 1000 reviews on Amazon, the majority of them five-star reviews. Here is a link to the book on Amazon: The Way, My Way / Amazon.

I wrote the book after I completed my first Camino in May 2013 – in fact this coming Monday will be the 10th anniversary to the day that I set off from St Jean Pied de Port to walk to Santiago. Those of you who know my story know that it was both a difficult walk, because of a dreadful knee issue, but also an exhilarating time because it changed me, fundamentally.

I now divide my life into two parts, those years before I walked the Camino, and those years after I walked the Camino. That’s how much of an impact that walk had on me.

I wrote the book when I came back because I’d been expecting an epiphany in Santiago, after 30 days of, at times, excruciating pain. I wanted to know why I’d decided to walk this ancient 800km pilgrimage route across the top of Spain.

I wasn’t religious, I wasn’t Catholic – this wasn’t a bucket list thing for me, or any kind of athletic endeavour. I wasn’t trying to prove anything to myself, or to others. I really didn’t know why I’d undertaken this walk, I just felt an obsessive compulsion to do it.

I hoped that in writing the book, this would become clear to me – and in a sense, writing the book was, for me, the completion of my walk.

I decided to self-publish, because I didn’t think a publisher would be interested – plus I knew any advance I would get would be paltry. The book has been a major success, and ten years down the track it’s still selling strongly.

I will tell you in another blog how this film – which we start shooting in May – came about. I had no intention of making a film from the book. It was the last thing I wanted to do. I did not want a film about myself, and my failings, and my dickheadedness – if that’s even a word.

But a veteran film distributor – Richard Becker – read the book, it had a big impact on him, and he felt otherwise. He thought it would make a terrific film, and one that would have broad commercial appeal.

So here we are, three weeks out from leaving for Spain, with three weeks location recce then the shoot starts on 22nd May.

I now have my crew in place, most of the cast, and the actual pilgrims I met along the way are coming back to play themselves! To that extent, the film will be like Nomadland, with a small discreet crew and using a mix of actors and “actuals.”

I’ll write more over Easter, but please subscribe to this blog so that you get my updates. I won’t be on social media much anymore until after the shoot – I simply don’t have the time – but I will be keeping this blog updated.

I’m very excited to be making this film – I hope I can capture the tone and the character of the book. That’s my aim.

More to come soon!

My Intuitive Glasses ~

At the moment I’m editing in Sydney (my new Facing Fear film) – and coming back to Mudgee on the weekends.

Last week, as I was about to leave home, I looked over at my spare reading glasses and I got a strong intuitive PGS hit that I should take these glasses with me.

Just to explain: I need glasses to read.
I can’t read without my glasses now.
I simply can’t.

But I went nah. I don’t need to take a spare pair of glasses. I have my main pair, which I love, and that’s enough. So I left home without taking my spare pair of glasses.

CUT TO:

I lost my glasses.
I could not find them anywhere.
I’d been watching telly with my son at his place, I’d settled down to read before I went to sleep, and I could not find my glasses anywhere.

I turned the place upside down. I searched everywhere. It was crazy. I’d brought them into the house. They had to be somewhere. But do you think I could find them?

I found them, finally.
They’d slipped under a sofa.
It took me over an hour to find them.

While searching I kept thinking I should have brought my back-up pair.

CUT TO:

Next day, I’m in the editing suite with Rishi, my editor.
I needed to read a script I’d written.
I needed my glasses.
I couldn’t find them. Again.

To put this into context. I never lose my glasses.
Like, never.
And I’d now lost them twice in two days.
(yeah yeah, I know, I found them the previous night)

Again, I searched everywhere. Rishi searched everywhere. I called my son, who was working from home, and asked him to look for them.

He searched everywhere.
My bedroom, the kitchen, even where I’d parked.
No sign of the glasses.

I searched the car. Maybe they’d slipped down the side of the seat. Rishi came out and helped me. Judith, a friend who’d stopped by, searched too. None of us could find the glasses.

I was facing the prospect of five days where I couldn’t read – or indeed write because I needed my glasses for writing too.

If only I’d brought my spare back-up glasses.

Several hours later, Rishi came into the editing room proudly brandishing my glasses. Evidently they’d slipped out of my pocket while I was walking along a laneway from the carpark to the entrance to the editing facility.

A tradesman had picked them up and very kindly dropped them at the reception desk of the editing facility – Rishi had seen them there and had figured they were mine.

So I got my glasses back. And fortunately no one had driven up that laneway and driven over my glasses – and indeed they were completely undamaged.

SO WHAT HAPPENED HERE?

The way I see it, my intuition (my PGS – Personal Guidance System) – had told me I should take my spare reading glasses to Sydney.

I ignored that advice.

So then my PGS manoevered circumstances so that I would wish that I’d listened to the advice and acted upon it. For me, it was a reminder that I should not ignore my intuition.

It was a lesson.

You might not agree. You might think I’m a loon.

Watch my movie – PGS Intuition is your Personal Guidance System. It’s now on iTunes and Google Play worldwide. Watch that and you might see things a little differently.



Intuition yesterday at Woolies ~

I drove into the Woolies carpark – Saturday 11:15am. Peak time.

The carpark was chockers. Not a space anywhere. Plus I had five cars ahead of me cruising to pounce on a spot.

I was anxious. Because at midday I was to be interviewed on a major US podcast show. Mentors & Moguls, by Heather Stone. I wasn’t sure which category I fitted into – whether I was a mentor or a mogul. But whatever – it was an important podcast, I didn’t want to be late and I had to do the week’s shopping.

But first, I had to find a park, and there was nothing free.

So I went into my PGS mode – I put out the intention that I would find the perfect parking spot, and I would find it quickly.

So I drove slowly behind the line of five cars, and as I passed each row of cars I saw that there were no free spaces to be had in any of these rows, and no one was walking to a car from Woolies about to hop in and drive off. There was no movement at all.

So here’s what I did – I turned into the row that was closest to the entrance to Woolies. The row that would provide me the ideal parking spot. But the row was completely full, and there was no one in their vehicle about to pull out.

The cars in front of me kept going – they saw too that the row was full. They kept cruising. But I drove into this completely full row. I drove towards the entrance – to the end of the row. The closer I got to the end of the row, and to the entrance to the shopping centre, the more perfect the parking spot would be – but it was full.

And then I saw taillights turn red. Someone was in a car in the most perfect spot possible. And then their reverse lights came on. And then they slowly backed out, providing me the parking spot that I wanted – the ideal parking spot right by the front entrance.

I waited for the elderly lady to back out and then I drove in – and as I was parking I saw the line of five cruising cars drive slowly past – each driver glaring at me with undisguised hostility.

Or it could have been envy.

Anyway, what happened? I set my intention, I trusted and I held my belief even when it seemed impossible.

Coincidence, you might say.
I’ll say in response that yes, it might be coincidence if this happens randomly, but this now happens to me all the time. I’m serious. Anyone who has driven with me will verify this.

You know what the trick to it is?
ASK.
You have to ask.
Most people don’t ask – so they don’t get.

And then you have to
TRUST.

Watch my movie PGS – Intuition is your Personal Guidance System. It’s out now on iTunes and Google Play. Or you can read my book: PGS the Book on Amazon.

We’re coming up to Christmas. We’re going to be shopping – parking.
Try it.
It works!

“I should have followed my gut,” says Lewis Hamilton.

At the beginning of this year, I started following Formula 1 motor racing.

This came as a big surprise to my dear wife Jennifer, to my family, and to those that I confided in – because I have largely kept it my dirty little secret, until now that is!

Why was it a surprise? Because I’m no way a rev-head. I’ve shown zero interest in motor sports until I began watching a documentary series on Netflix called Drive to Survive, which was a series following the F1 circuit for an entire season.

After watching this doco I got hooked.
And I mean obsessively hooked.

For the whole year I’ve watched every practice session, every qualifying session, every race. I listen to F1 podcasts. I keep up to date with all the latest news on the F1 app. I am a fan.

Why?
Me, who drives a sedate station wagon that’s done 250,000kms and is 12 years old.
Me, who doesn’t know how to top up the windscreen wiper fluid.
Me, who would have to call the NRMA if I got a flat tyre.

Pathetic, isn’t it?

But I’ve become fascinated with Formula 1 because it is heightened drama. The stakes each race are huge. The egos each race are huge. The margins between winning and losing are wafer thin. The technology is mind-bogglingly sophisticated.

And then there’s Lewis Hamilton.

Lewis Hamilton is seven times World Champion and this year he’s going for his eighth title. If he gets it, he will be the greatest driver in Formula 1 motor racing history.

His nemesis is a young up-and-coming Dutch driver named Max Verstappen. Hamilton drives for Mercedes and Verstappen drives for Red Bull. One makes cars and the other makes putrid energy drinks.

You can tell who I’m rooting for.

Lewis Hamilton is humble, a sweet guy, and could well become one of the world’s greatest ever elite sportsmen. It all comes down to the final few races of the season. At the moment Max Verstappen is leading him by six points.

I watched this morning a replay of last night’s Turkish Grand Prix. I won’t go into the details, but there was a crucial moment in the race when Lewis Hamilton was instructed by his race director over the team radio to pit-stop and get a new set of tyres fitted.

Hamilton didn’t want to. He wanted to keep going and finish the race on his original set of tyres. Initially, he refused to follow his race director’s instructions. He had the chance of finishing close to Verstappen.

But a few laps later when his race director insisted, Hamilton acquiesced and went into the pits, had his tyres changed, and when he came back out onto the track again his new tyres weren’t working for him and he ended up coming fifth in the race, when he could have come third.

Hamilton, unusually for him, was furious. He said over the team radio that he should have followed his gut. Read about it here…

https://www.formula1.com/en/latest/article.i-should-have-trusted-my-gut-hamilton-reveals-why-he-was-left-frustrated-by.3K8x7EIPlXOK3jIQocsPDx.html

You hear this often – following or trusting your gut. People call it intuition. And yes it is a form of intuition. I call it Cognitive Intuition – because it is intuition based on expert knowledge.

In making my film PGS – Intuition is your Personal Guidance System, I figured out that not all intuitions are the same. I came up with the concept that there are four types of intuition:

Survival Intuition
Cognitive Intuition
Mystical Intuition
Proxy Intuition

If you want to learn more about this, go read my book PGS, available on Amazon.
PGS the Book

Lewis Hamilton is an expert driver. He called upon his expert knowledge to make a gut call. An intuitive call. As it turned out, he was right.

Most gut decisions are…