COVID19 in-house Day 1: Tie Your Camel

Pray to Allah, but tie your camel to a tree. What does this mean? For me, simply, it means that we should trust that everything will work out for the best, more or less, but that we should also be active in our own destinies as far as possible.

Being born is a hugely dangerous activity, because it means you're gonna die, bruh. 100% mortality rate for those of us who are alive. That said, it's always nice if you can find a way to live longer, hence tying your metaphorical camel to a tree instead of relying on Allah to take care of it for you.

When I was just fifteen, I ambled up to the Trans-Canada and started an epic trip across the country. I vividly remember wearing a light blue windbreaker, and having a pencil and nine dollars in my pocket. Hitchhiking is never a good idea, not even in 1972, but I survived, and I collected some mind-blowing memories along the way.

Being the only vertical thing for miles and miles in Saskatchewan and watching a storm come overhead, being rained on, and then watching it leave was a memory that I still rely on when I'm thinking about life.

Standing on the side of the road for hours and hours in Manitoba, feeling very hungry, thirsty and a little bit scared, watching all the bigs cars and trucks pass as the passengers looked at me, a skinny kid with Janis Joplin hair and a light blue anorak. And then the most tumble-down truck in the world, that contained the biggest family I'd ever seen, stopped and gave me a ride to the next Nowheresville destination and crammed two dollars into my pocket as I jumped out of the truck.

And the guy who was so drunk he could hardly talk who only stopped because he wanted me to drive, and I'd never driven before but I managed ok, until we got to a city, then I parked the car, got out and left him sleeping like a baby, as he had done since he picked me up.

So, these are probably stories about when I should have tied the camel a little tighter, or perhaps my parents should have. Either way, I survived, with a healthy respect for Allah, and for rope.

Last week I was trying to balance trusting in God (fate, Universe, whatever you want to call it), with being cautious. I decided that it was safe for me to wipe down the tables at my cafe with disinfectant and to be more conscious about normal safety rules in the kitchen. I didn't touch the handles on public transport. We decided not to eat out.

Then things moved very quickly: I closed the cafe for in-house meals, switching to delivery. I stopped using public transit. We had a family pow wow about washing hands. And then, and now, things moved even quicker and I decided, as many of you have, to stay at home, to avoid unnecessary outings, and to bide my time at home.

My camel is tied very tightly to the tree. And I am praying, in my own way, that this crisis will pass soon. I'm lucky. I have most of my family around me, and I'm healthy, and we have lots of food and... of course I have my saxophone to play and I can still run outside and and and .... sending you all love. Take care of yourselves and each other.