Finding someone

Like a number of other bloggers I've been thinking allot about whether to keep this online journal going.

It becomes tricky when you truly begin to know your audience, readers become true friends, and you realise that anything you vent out into the ether can actually have consequences.

But in the meantime I'm still here.

At least once of you was curious as to one of the subjects I touched upon in my last post, and I did promise a follow-up.

I came out of a two-year relationship last winter. Love and great times were shared but sadly we decided to part. I couldn't have wished for a more amicable split, and I feel blessed that I've gained a true friend who'll remain just that in the future.

It took me an awfully long time to venture back into the dating game, but as spring slowly turned into an early summer the time felt right to dip a toe into the water.

Still being of limited confidence after all these years, I decided to play to my strengths and joined uniformdating.com. Put basically, it's a dating site for those in the uniformed services (Police, Ambulance/NHS, Fire, Army, RAF, Navy) to meet other uniformed services, or 'civvies', and vice-versa.

The Yorkshireman in me managed to find an online promotional code giving me a month's free membership (which was a bonus). Joining the site was simple enough, however setting up a profile and choosing a suitable photo must have taken half an ice age. See, those who know me will know that one trait I despise in people is arrogance. I'm generally uncomfortable to crow about my own achievements and merits, so just how was I going to sell myself to any potential date?

Hours of staring at a blank cursor flashing on the monitor finally paid off and I put myself out there. Time to sit back, wait, an to be honest not expecting much interest to come trickling back.

But, lo and behold, women started to view my profile. Success! I hear you cry. However, not strictly not the case. Did they not read that I wasn't looking for women over 40? I mean, no offence. I've dated women a few years older but I would most certainly draw the line at a decade now. A few polite excuses were in order. The other problem was that the more interesting women quite literally lived at the other end of the country. I've done the long distance (read transcontinental) thing before and it ain't easy at all.

About a week later however I was messaged by someone a mere 20 miles away. For the purposes of anonymity in this journal I will refer to her as she.

She was attractive, fun, intelligent and bubbly. Even more surprisingly she wanted to meet me. I checked a few times. Yep, she was talking me.

Crikey.

We arranged to meet at a local chain-pub for our first date. Suffice to say you can tell things are going well that you're so deep in conversation that three hours pass in the blink of an eye. Indeed she was attractive, fun, intelligent and bubbly in person.

Wow.

Mentally checked again, oh my god it was me she had wanted to meet.

Date two would have been a lot sooner had I not contracted a pleasant case of conjunctivitis and a particularly chesty cough (I blame a stop search of a suspicious male I did who didn't quite have the best bodily hygiene shall we say). However she demonstrated great patience in waiting for me to get well again.

We arranged to meet again.

The rest you can say is history.

Some two months later and things are going very well indeed. We spend as much time together as work allows. We share similar passions in life, yet she's opening my eyes to new things.

One night she told me she loved me. I was blindsided. I never expected to hear someone look into my eyes and say that ever again. I too have fallen in love with her.

Quite simply she has been the most wonderful surprise. Without sounding cliched I feel like the luckiest man in the world. I expected a long trail of unsuccessful dates. She certainly sounded like she had experienced just that. But to strike lucky first time? I mean, really, what are the chances?

I don't have many exes to speak of, but at least a couple of them remain good close friends.

As I said to one of them recently "Each love is unique."

Treasure each love, mourn it's loss, but dare surrender yourself to the promise of something new.

Hopefully I am proof positive that it is possible.

25 Random Things

Another one of those meme things...

1. I'm an avid Guardian reader.
2. I can happily devour an entire packet of biscuits in one sitting.
3. Deep-down, even at my lowest ebb, I'm still an optimist.
4. I have a love for dance/electronic music, but my tastes are otherwise broad; rock to classical, hip-hop to indie.
5. I'm 6'3".
6. At the last count, I have visited 22 countries and rising... Travel is one of my great passions in life.
7. Following a friends' recommendation I am currently a massive fan of 'The Shield' and secretly wish policing was a little more like that sometime.
8. All the women I've had relationships with were born outside the UK.
9. I drive too fast.
10. I enter a ridiculous number of competitions. Someones got to win, surely?
11. I'm intrigued by religion but am still an agnostic.
12. Bad manners infuriate me - when you hold a door open for someone and they don't say thanks...
13. I'm a bit of a romantic, really.
14. Though I don't read as much as I used to, I've always got a book on the go.
15. I think I'm starting to develop insomnia.
16. Unusual for a bloke; but I love cats.
17. I'm typing this to avoid packing. I move house on the 19th of this month.
18. Before becoming a copper I worked as a bookseller, and prior to that for a small environmental charity in The New Forest.
19. I'm a terrible, but slowly improving cook.
20. When I get some more money through I would like to get a decent digital SLR camera and become a better photographer.
21. I cannot function properly without a morning coffee.
22. I long to be a father. Eventually.
23. My heroes include Moby, Neil Armstrong, David Attenborough, Captain Scott and Ellen MacArthur.
24. I have a strange fascination with cold places, particularly The Antarctic.
25. I can still speak (rustily) fluent Swedish.

The Beauty Of Uncertainty

Spending this one indoors in blissful contemplation of 12 months of changes, rather than outside in the biting wind, or pressed six-to-the-bar in eternal queues and new year's overpricing.

Buy turns interesting, suprising, shocking and reassuring, it's been quite a year, don't you think?

I chanced upon this writer (featured below), quoted in the sleavenotes for KT Tunstall's 'Acoustic Extravaganza'. In the closing hours of 2006 these words seem especially poignant.

Happy New Year to one and all.

Wherever you are.

* * * * *

The Beauty of Uncertainty
by Brian Hendricks

'Doubt is not a pleasant situation, but certainty is absurd' - Voltaire

People with missing children. Children without parents. People without food or water. There are many who are destroyed by not knowing what the future holds.

For those of us more fortunate, the beauty of uncertainty is that it motivates us to seek certainty.

We are compelled to replace doubt with conviction, to replace confusion with clarity, to be more fearful of old ideas instead of new ones. Nothing is more disparaged than the person who is lost, hesitant, and anxious.

Yet the true path to fulfillment comes from these conditions. Uncertainty becomes truly beautiful when connected withthe certainty that there is a better life beyond the life that is known.

The artist, scientist, entrepreneur, athlete, and traveller: all embrace uncertainty as their muse. What is going to happen next is more enticing than what is happening now. The thrill of anticipation, the mystery of the unknown, the open road, mistakes as portals of discovery, the inevitability of change, purpose from chaos, questions leading to answers, failure as the threshold of knowledge. All of these conditions inform the life of the adventurer, the human being who is engaged in becoming.

The beauty of uncertainty is that it prepares us to embrace life in the face of death. Allows us the strength to deal with the freedom to choose. To willingly exchange the fear of uncertainty for the security of certainty is to admit defeat. To surrender to the fear of actually living your life.

As T. S Eliot observed, 'Where is the life we have lost in living?'

Nothing moves forward except by the craving to seek certainty from uncertainty.

Lost In America

Flicking through old newspapers to put in the recycling bin, I stopped in my tracks and read this article in full.

"It was Christmas Eve babe..."

Did the Chris Rea-thing (Driving home for Christmas… De de de de-de) yesterday afternoon, so I’m now back up north with parents & family for the duration of the festive period.

Having relaxed into holiday-vibe back up here, mother-dearest and I ventured out to do some traditional last-minute shopping around town. The interest-rate hikes must be really hitting because the shopping centres were surprisingly devoid of the usual hordes of rabid shoppers. Blissfully breezed up to counters and even managed to find a half-decent spot in a café. Seeing that didn’t stress me out in the slightest, dare I say I may actually be getting in a Christmas mood at this point?

Heading round to see some old friends this evening for our usual tradition....

1. Start off at Becky & Dave’s, where she’s done the hostess thing with nibbles-aplenty, and watch whatever tat there is on TV whilst exchanging presents & cards.
2. Then it’s off into Beverley for the gentlest of pub crawls; more emphasis on the merry, than the hardcore drinking that many persist still with.
3. Come midnight we attend mass at Beverley Minster – one of northern Europe’s most spectacular cathedrals – to inject some much-needed spirituality back into the mordern Christmas mayhem.

Now I don't believe you don’t have to be Christian to pay homage to the life of a great man who lived some 2000 years ago and had a profound effect on the course of human history. I’m an agnostic, but I would say I have greater belief in spirit, and the power of religion for good, than I do in the Argos or DFS sales that convince us they will change your world for the better through a simple credit card transaction.

And on that note…

I should really be getting ready to head out.

Wishing you all the very best this Christmas, wherever you are on the planet.

See you on the other side.

Surfacing

I seem to have received a surprising amount of Christmas cards from neighbours, even as a newbie to this random little cul-de-sac. All the more surprising in that with the deep, dark, murk of winter it doesn't seem like I've actually seen any of them to exchange street-side banter with, since forever-and-an-age ago. Are they just being neighbourly, or because they now know I'm a cop (word soon got around it seems) are they just trying to stay on my perceived 'good' side?

Anyway, I got a particularly nice surprise in the post the other morning. I opened an envelope to find this gorgeous hand-made card.

And I quote...

"Dear Ingmar,It was about a year ago, that I bought some travel books from Waterstone's, including "The Worst Journey In The World" which you had recommended. These were presents and you gave me some very helpful guidance.

As a grateful customer I would like to thank you with this card, drawn on a cruise, as I thought it would be of interest. Earlier this year I learnt that you have moved on, but Steve [my old manager] kindly gave me your name and said he would forward this onto you.

I hope you are enjoying your new employment.

With best wishes for Christmas & 2007."

[illustration was labelled "settlement near Sisimuit, west coast of Greenland"

Now, for me it really is the smallest things. The little gestures. Someone taking time and effort out from their daily routine to simply be... Kind. Things like that can not only can lift a whole day, they've already added to general upward-trajectory of feeling and self-belief. Something I think I've been sorely lacking of late.

See this has come around the time of an easing of pressure somewhat, to do with work and the trials hitherto. A break. A chance to mentally regroup and prepare for the real fun and games in the new year.

On Monday I had my 'final exam' of the theory-learning stage. Now this was something that I'd been literally loosing sleep over for weeks. Following a massive wake-up call about halfway through the course (a pretty shocking test-mark), I had my own very private long dark night of the soul. Spent many a night awake; questioning my choices, my abilities, my raison d'etre. Hard work, revision and grit saw it through. I think. Or maybe a fucking great stroke of luck (excuse my French). I passed to my complete and utter relief. Astonishingly, I sail through with a half-decent mark and some colleagues who hitherto had exhibited little outward signs of crisis... Failed. Quite spectacularly. A real surprise that. Perhaps it was perversely, a good outcome afterall then in that I didn't become complacent along the way?

We break for Christmas in a few days. But, the trials are by no means over at all. Come January 8th I head out onto the streets with a tutor constable. Real people. Real lives. Real situations.
A chance for another deep breath now, before I dive into things once more.