Abdul by Michael Sinclair

This last Friday a guy who I have known for years, a Moroccan, Abdul, was delivering something to the address I share with other artists / businesses. I walked past him not recognising him until he called out 'hey Mike’.

Now Abdul is what I call 'a man of God'. Not that he is religious, more a humanist, unselfish, caring, with great humility and wisdom, tall, kind, with a swarthy face, some stubble. Like all with a benign nature, Abdul is someone you feel instinctively at ease with - like lounging in front of a fire. It was just great to see him and after he had done his drop off he was sitting in front of me in the studio drinking tea. Once we had talked about friends in common we were - on to the ‘virus’. With a Moroccan accent unchanged from decades of London life Abdul continued, his smiling calm eyes, his voice falling to a whisper, a peppering of self deprecating laughter here and there - 'Mike, see this as a game of football. The world is playing football. It has been given a yellow card, a warning. It could have been different, a red, but no, it is yellow'.

Maybe this is the best analogy I've heard yet. Far from thinking under an umbrella of fear I see this ‘visitation’, this very real diminishment in control of our lives, as an opportunity to pause and reflect as individuals, as nations, and as a world, on our lives, our consumption, the value of humility, our very spirituality. We need to live more measured lives.

This has been a long time coming as we know. A slow, then accelerated build up, Biblical in nature crossed with the dystopian quality of a Ballard novel - climate change - financial crises - consumption - wars - emigration - a greater than ever disparity between rich and poor - homelessness - the haves and have nots - untruths and duplicities in our politics and media. These are not so much behavioural aberrations, it’s just how we are, how we have ever been. Not one of us who care, who share a utilitarian value for the good of the greater whole over and above that of the individual can be happy.

The whistle was blown, and after any number of foul tackles the world got a yellow card - so lucky - not red - not yet!

While living through this global difficulty many of us are unlikely to see again, let’s take this as a ‘half time’ whistle, not to diminish what will indeed be the severe suffering, but as a necessary, long overdue and precious time to reflect out of love for all we hold dear, the value in leading more measured, responsible lives.