The Restory Retreat Centre

  What Have We Learned? The Conversation  Elements From The Conversation  _________________ “ Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative and creation, there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favour all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Begin it now.”                                                       ...

  Meanwhile This week, we just didn't get to the recording of a conversation. From morning to evening, every day, we were moving. Every now and then we were asking ourselves: why do we still have so much stuff? Shouldn't we just throw out all the books?  And silence all those voices that are part of the conversation? And how many retreatants have stood in front of the shelves, just to find the right book at the right time? No, we can't.  Rather close the pottery studio? In any case, it will take a few months to get it up and running at Tafelkop.  However, that is the space where I, Matilda, express myself and where a growing number of people live out their creativity during workshops. It is also a very important spiritual aid. No, it has to stay. Get rid of all my, George's, machines in the workshop?  We have indeed sold the large engineering machines. That phase in George's life is over and it will also help with funds during this transitioning period. But the ...

  Reminiscing On Barrowfield  The Conversation Elements From The Conversation "Funny how places become people, how this house and her old iron bed still pull me in and offer comfort when I need it."                                         Lori Nelson Spielman Skhumbuzo took this picture  of the setting of this week's recordings. The chapel provided the space needed  to sort out the attic content. Music When, for the last time, you walk through empty rooms and close doors softly behind you. With love.   Thank you that we could share Barrowfield with you. George & Matilda 

Synchronicity  The Conversation Elements From The Conversation Detail: The Creation Of Adam, by Michelangelo  Reporting On A Move Yes, we're still packing and have taken more furniture and paintings to Tafelkop.  An empty house isn't much to show, though. The living room, having changed from warm to bare, remains the best barometer of the process. In the background the pantry is visible through the door opening. It has been turned into a store room as well. Music The theme of this month's music is saying goodbye, moving on, ending something, new beginnings.  Adventure is an element of that as well, while synchronicity forms part of the adventure. This week's music from the Japanese duo, Lullatone, comes from their album,  Soundtracks For Everyday Adventures . Just right under the circumstances. With love.    George & Matilda 

  The Depth Dimension Thank you, Heather, who has sent us this after listening to last week's conversation.  The Conversation Elements From The Conversation " Is there anything I can do to make myself enlightened?  As little as you can do to make the sun rise in the morning.  Then of what use are the spiritual exercises you prescribe? To make sure you are not asleep when the sun begins to rise.”                                                                                                                     Anthony de Mello  Reporting On A Move Tuesday morning Friday evening The "store room" filling up. Friday afternoon in the cottage at Tafelkop.  Matilda lost in though...

The Southern vista from Barrowfield Photo by Hanna Jacobs  I have lived in many places throughout my life. The earliest home I can remember was when I was about four years old and we lived in a tiny hamlet called Mica, where my father took a job as electrician in a vermiculite mine. It was very remote and truly unspoilt. It was glorious for my sister and me but nerve wrecking for my mother. It being very much Africa, there were huge spiders and scorpions and green grasshoppers, not to mention deadly creatures like green mambas and malaria mosquitoes. On weekends my father would take us to the banks of the huge Olifants river and we would watch the hippos lazing in the muddy water. We moved to a bigger mining town when we had to start school and from then on every few years my father would find a different job with better prospects and we would move again. For some of the most memorable places we lived I don't have fond memories of. At one stage, when I was about ten ye...

Photograph by George Angus When we moved to Barrowfield last year, we did so with too much stuff (See Matilda’s post Moving heavily ). There were mitigating circumstances as we stated before: it was years of living, by four different people and in different locations coming together – Matilda, me, Oupa Frans and my dad. There were two workshops, one pottery studio and four houses with all the tools and possessions associated with each. Add to that my father’s reluctance to move and our efforts to take into account that his belongings acted as a security blanket and all could not simply be taken away from him and you end up with all that arrived in Wakkerstroom and here on the farm at Barrowfield. And that despite everything that has indeed been sorted, discarded or sold. Too much. That is not the way we want to live. There is a dissonance between our possessions and our spirituality. We want to travel much, much lighter. Gradually things have settled in these past few ...

It's easier to die than to move ... at least for the Other Side you don't need trunks.                                                                                                          - Wallace Stegner Boxes, boxes, what to throw away, what to take, "oh, look at this! I made it in grade 2", returning what has long forgotten been borrowed, what must be so close that it is unpackable, and the books and books.... We're packing. George and Matilda