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.

Sale!

Rather hypocritically, considering the closing of my last entry, I escorted mum into the city to peruse the post-Christmas sales.

All I’m wondering is this. Why in the men’s departments or even in dedicated men’s-clothing stores are there just as many, or often more, women about than men? It’s bad enough battling the crowds of slavering shoppers, but isn’t there some little part part of the commercial district of a town that we can have to our grufty selves please? I don’t want to have to have every article of clothing that looks remotely nice immediately snatched out of my sight by the scarlet-tipped claws of some hyperactive girlfriend or wife cooing

“Ooo, I think Jeffrey would love that.”

I end up thinking to myself:

“Well fine then - get Geoffrey’s bloody arse down here then and get out of my way!! Hey lady, check that out - there’s 50% off at Monsoon!”

*Stampede*

"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.

Santa madness

Disney tells Santa clone ho-ho no

More Fuzz

It's only THE full trailer for one of my most eagerly anticipated movies of 2007!

Police career aside - I loved 'Shaun' and was a massive fan of 'Spaced'. The team can do no wrong.

Can't wait!

Rolling news, rolling murder

Apologies if this little ramble may come across as insensitive right now.

I'm an ardent news junkie. I love my news me. I generally have to catch a bulletin at least once a day because I'm genuinely fascinated by the myriad of things that occur across our planet each day. But of late, I've occasionally been close to putting my foot through the television at times.

I mean what is it with the media right now? Give them some serial murders and they think it's Christmas.

Oh, okay it is Christmas... But they're reporting with about as much sensitivity and restraint right now as a kid on Christmas morning, don't you think? Even the usually sober BBC is trying to out-report and out 'shock' Sky News more than normal.

Flicked on the 24-news upon returning from a long day at work. Kept it on in the background whilst fixing tea...

Anchor hands over to a positively excited looking reporter outside Suffolk Police HQ who has nothing new to tell us supposedly slavering viewers, but they definitely

"Have the feeling that the pace of events here have stepped up a gear..."

They don't know how, or why, but they just know that. From sources unknown.

Cut to irresponsible ex-detective who helpfully explains CID for Dummies to any would-be murderers watching.

Cut back to reporter at HQ, looking for all intents and purposes like a schoolchild bursting to tell the teacher. Ooo! Ooo! We've had...

Reports of a missing girl in the area... We don't know who she is, where she's gone missing... But we know that's how the other girls ended up...

'BREAKING NEWS: Missing girl' scrolls across the bottom of the screen within seconds.

Back to the studio for a news round up of other events in the world, some equally horrible.

Back once again to Suffolk.

Anything new?

Nope. But soon. We're sure of that.

Obsessive?

Well, stay with us for all the latest.

Only a few minutes later, it's back to a 'related' story - an interview with the parents of Rachel Whitear, a girl who died consumed by her Heroin addiction. Her parents allowed the use of the now imfamous image of her dead, curled-up black/blue body, in a hard-hitting anti-drugs campaign. Reporter decides to throw in the spectacularly tactful question:

"Did she become involved in prostitution?"

Reply - an utterly firm (and barely disguising shock); No!

...And then cut to a news-round up, complete with aerial shots of Ipswich and repeated use of the word Fear.

Then?

I switched off.

(Addendum: Said missing girl was thankfully found safe according to the later news)

Awwww

In amongst all the murder, death and destruction there's some wonderful, heart-warming stories to be found still.

This is one.

Sky

From NASA's Space Shuttle website:

"A large bird appears to chase Space Shuttle Discovery as it roars into space and emblazons the night sky."

Wow, cool.

I don't think I ever fail to be amazed.

Do click for the larger version, to get the full impact of the image, if you have a moment.