Does anybody remember reading "The Celestine Prophecy"? It came out over 10 years ago so even if you have early-onset oldtimers you should still have it in the recesses of your mind. The "Da Vinci Code" of its day, one of the key factors is "unexplained coincidences".
Whilst a work of fantasy, the book hit a note with many as it pushed the boundaries of conventional spirituality without defying them and explored notions often considered a bit "out there" despite some of the world's major religions acknowledging spirits, multiple dimensions and resonance, and the scientific discovery (mathematical proof) of worm holes.
Only recently I heard a piece on the radio about gut instinct and decision making, with top level executives cited as relying on gut instinct and that gut instinct decisions are frequently good and sound, based on information the subconscience gathers over a life time of experience and perhaps primordial wiring. I've tried to find the reference but a search on auntie only sends me to a similar discussion with Dr Norman Swan 10 years ago - clearly this isn't a new line of thinking.
On a personal level I find gut instinct a little confusing. The scientist in me is analytical and factual, wanting to weigh up the pros and cons. The legal eagle in me finds various angles and more often than not I am able to argue alternate sides to an argument, which tends to moderate my passion. Tangled in all of this is a further contradiction - my gut instinct. I frequently put this aside except where I have little to rely on in the facts, angles and arguments department.
Every now and again however, I get "awful feelings" in the same way that if my mother says she has "awful news" it's most probably of the mortal kind. These feelings are not premonitions, rather an ominous sense of foreboding sinks in. After my brother was in a car accident following one of these, I vowed I would not ignore my gut instinct.
10 days ago I talked myself out of a gut instinct - that I didn't know the person in question well enough, that I was over-reacting, and that I was imputing my emotions onto their circumstances. Sure enough, following the weekend, I discovered this person had fractured 2 vertebrae slipping over AND had been in hospital for 5 days as a result. I jumped in the car and headed to the hospital to pay a visit.
When I arrived my first thought was how wonderful the food from the hospital cafe smelled. My friend C had another friend with him, and she had brought him lunch. And then I realised this was not just any lunch, this was lunch from her restaurant, Bird Cow Fish.
I've previously mentioned Bird Cow Fish has long been my favourite Sydney Bistro. I admire Alex Herbert's approach to food and dining, not Haute Cuisine but excellent nonetheless (more on this another time). With her spunky husband (I can say that as I have my own) running front of house with some of the loveliest service staff in Sydney, I am a fan. Perhaps even more so because despite having two children (I've seen them at the restaurant) she still manages to get out to Flemington to chat with the growers and stallholders - I've seen her there, and wanted to say hello, but thought it was just a bit too weird even for me.
As I know all this (and more) about Alex, I felt conscious of appearing a sycophant. After all, I had come to visit an injured friend and just happened to be partaking in a conversation with someone I have admired from a distance for some time. With 2 chefs (C is a chef too) and little old me gathered around, much of the conversation focused on food and produce - from beef cheeks to churning butter, as well as sailing (C is also a sailor), dogs' names and anything else that amuses people in a hospital bed on loads of diazapam and a cheeky glass of kiwi pinot with lunch (C is also a kiwi). Despite the circumstances, it was kinda fun.
Later that day it occurred to me that perhaps there's an extra element to Bird Cow Fish and Alex's cooking that makes it so endearing for me. You see, despite C being a chef and the hospital being in a pretty hip dining area of Sydney where many of C's friends and contemporaries are based, Alex was the first to bring a meal in for him. She's obviously thoughtful, and emotion invariably adds an extra dimension to food for the sensitive soul.
Whilst a work of fantasy, the book hit a note with many as it pushed the boundaries of conventional spirituality without defying them and explored notions often considered a bit "out there" despite some of the world's major religions acknowledging spirits, multiple dimensions and resonance, and the scientific discovery (mathematical proof) of worm holes.
Only recently I heard a piece on the radio about gut instinct and decision making, with top level executives cited as relying on gut instinct and that gut instinct decisions are frequently good and sound, based on information the subconscience gathers over a life time of experience and perhaps primordial wiring. I've tried to find the reference but a search on auntie only sends me to a similar discussion with Dr Norman Swan 10 years ago - clearly this isn't a new line of thinking.
On a personal level I find gut instinct a little confusing. The scientist in me is analytical and factual, wanting to weigh up the pros and cons. The legal eagle in me finds various angles and more often than not I am able to argue alternate sides to an argument, which tends to moderate my passion. Tangled in all of this is a further contradiction - my gut instinct. I frequently put this aside except where I have little to rely on in the facts, angles and arguments department.
Every now and again however, I get "awful feelings" in the same way that if my mother says she has "awful news" it's most probably of the mortal kind. These feelings are not premonitions, rather an ominous sense of foreboding sinks in. After my brother was in a car accident following one of these, I vowed I would not ignore my gut instinct.
10 days ago I talked myself out of a gut instinct - that I didn't know the person in question well enough, that I was over-reacting, and that I was imputing my emotions onto their circumstances. Sure enough, following the weekend, I discovered this person had fractured 2 vertebrae slipping over AND had been in hospital for 5 days as a result. I jumped in the car and headed to the hospital to pay a visit.
When I arrived my first thought was how wonderful the food from the hospital cafe smelled. My friend C had another friend with him, and she had brought him lunch. And then I realised this was not just any lunch, this was lunch from her restaurant, Bird Cow Fish.
I've previously mentioned Bird Cow Fish has long been my favourite Sydney Bistro. I admire Alex Herbert's approach to food and dining, not Haute Cuisine but excellent nonetheless (more on this another time). With her spunky husband (I can say that as I have my own) running front of house with some of the loveliest service staff in Sydney, I am a fan. Perhaps even more so because despite having two children (I've seen them at the restaurant) she still manages to get out to Flemington to chat with the growers and stallholders - I've seen her there, and wanted to say hello, but thought it was just a bit too weird even for me.
As I know all this (and more) about Alex, I felt conscious of appearing a sycophant. After all, I had come to visit an injured friend and just happened to be partaking in a conversation with someone I have admired from a distance for some time. With 2 chefs (C is a chef too) and little old me gathered around, much of the conversation focused on food and produce - from beef cheeks to churning butter, as well as sailing (C is also a sailor), dogs' names and anything else that amuses people in a hospital bed on loads of diazapam and a cheeky glass of kiwi pinot with lunch (C is also a kiwi). Despite the circumstances, it was kinda fun.
Later that day it occurred to me that perhaps there's an extra element to Bird Cow Fish and Alex's cooking that makes it so endearing for me. You see, despite C being a chef and the hospital being in a pretty hip dining area of Sydney where many of C's friends and contemporaries are based, Alex was the first to bring a meal in for him. She's obviously thoughtful, and emotion invariably adds an extra dimension to food for the sensitive soul.