but it’s not fair

brown rocky mountain beside body of water
Photo by Taryn Elliott on Pexels.com

Those burning justices that do not come to be

Enrage the hearts of nations and of individuals

Fighting for the right to speak and to be heard.

But heavy boots will stomp and squash their words

Like the marching of an army over neutral land

And the planting of a flag within the rugged ground.

You have been silenced, as for fairness, I don’t care,

You’ll stay where you are neatly put,

And you can sulk with all your might,

But let me warn you, it will never be quite worth the fight.

I hear so much about fairness at the moment and I realise that there are so many of us that are fighting real injustices, but I do also notice that there are many times when that perceived injustice is just that: merely a perception.

The amount of times that I have kicked up a fuss in my own mind because somebody has treated me rudely is numerous. But when I think back, how many of those times am I really justified in my quiet seething.

For example, when somebody serving me in a restaurant is rude to me and I think the service is terrible and I want to go and write all over Trip Advisor how bad my experience was. But what made him rude? Has another customer been horrible to him? Has his boss chewed him out for something he didn’t do? Did he just read a text from his girlfriend confirming that she had been cheating on him all along? So much of this has nothing to do with me.

I had a situation this afternoon where we were getting the kids to name countries in Africa and if they couldn’t come up with one they were out of the game. Somebody said South Africa and then a couple of people along I reached a girl who proudly said North Africa. Of course, I said no to that one and she kicked off! She started shouting that I had allowed South Africa so it was totally unfair that I hadn’t allowed her answer. I literally thought that she was going to burst into tears she was so angry.

She perceived that she was in the right and I was serving her a massive injustice. It just made me think that before we kick off we should perhaps pause and think. This example made me chuckle but remember that families are torn apart because of ridiculous things like that, just silly misunderstandings that I hope you don’t have to endure.

Much Love

Rachel xx

a summer in africa

There’s something about the African sun

That beats from a sky much bluer than ours,

Heat scorched grass and roaring lions,

The cocktails will flow at the Tiki bar

As the boys all dance and drink and smoke

And that sun sinks down as the fireflies light

You caught my eye over a tin of beer,

Little did I know that we’d never be split

As the animal snarls close in on the camp

And a heat rises up between two drunken bodies,

Tanned from the day and tired from the night.

And that was how Africa changed one girl’s world

From a stiff British lip to a woman who roars.

My dad went and cleared out the last of the house yesterday and he brought some bags of my stuff over today. Most of it was a load of old rubbish that is going straight in the bin or to the charity shop, but every so often I stumbled across something that just lightened my mood.

Surprisingly the most powerful things I found were the photos. There were so many from when I was a teenager and I used to take a disposable camera everywhere with me. And that includes the summer that I went to South Africa, all on my own.

I ended up meeting my future husband and Noah’s dad and I found a photograph of us in the piles of junk. It reminded me of times that I had pushed to the back of my mind for so long. At the time they were really painful memories, but stumbling across them now has just made me smile.

It’s reminded me that distance between now and then really does ease pain. The more time that passes, the easier it is to remember those times. In fact, now I am actively enjoying looking through those memories. I can only really feel the good feels; the funny stories; the love.

Much Love,

Rachel xx

watching the boys surf while i sit on the beach

man holding white surfboard
Photo by Oliver Sjöström on Pexels.com

We’d been out drinking, the night before,

In bijou clubs where princes sometimes danced.

Suffering hard with cocktail flu, we trailed

Down to where the sand met sea.

I clutched my heels in sweating hands

And spread myself out on the sandy shore

While boys piled into water, tropical and warm.

I wondered if the sharks were there,

If they’d smell the boys and see their boards

Like seals from down below, a tasty meal.

I looked away, towards the sun, my stomach churning,

Just hoping that they’ll come out safe

And we can trail back to the bar

For baskets of the greasy fries, and pints

To soothes away the achy joints and woolly head.