The Restory Retreat Centre

Spring Afternoon Open your windows. Feel the sun. Cherish the colour. Spring is in the air. With our love. George & Matilda  

  Tafelkop Spring “The woman said, “Sir, give me this water...” ‭‭John‬ ‭4‬:‭15‬ ‭MSG‬‬                                        Somewhere in the distance is Wakkerstroom The Conversation Elements From The Conversation The path to the fountain changes with the seasons. Here in high summer it is overgrown and difficult to walk. You will not get lost, because the cliffs of Tafelkop lie just to your left on the way to the spring and serve as a beacon. But you often wander off course and with great difficulty get back on the faint footpath around massive rocks and over fallen tree trunks.     Lost   Stand still. The trees ahead and the bushes beside you  Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,  And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,  Must ask permission to know it and be known.  The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,  I have made this...

  Seasons As Companions The Conversation Elements From The Conversation Music May you find joy in the warmer, greener days. In this serason. With our love. George & Matilda

  Onlangse Oorsig / Recent Summary  Foto's Van Onlangse Gebeure / Pictures Of Recent Events 'n Huis opgeknap en geverf met 'n nuwe badkamer, die koms van lente en reën, retreats, die CMR se breimarathon, aanbied en afsluiting van die Verfrissingskursus in geestelike begeleiding, bywoon van ons kleindogter Ariana se gradeplegtigheid ("Nee Oupa, dis 'n gradige plegtigheid!") voordat sy volgende jaar grootskool toe gaan. A house renovated and painted with a new bathroom, the arrival of spring and rain, retreats, the CMR's knitting marathon, presenting and finishing the Refresher course in spiritual guidance, attending our granddaughter Ariana's graduation before she goes to big school next year. Klank / Sound Die klank van sagte reën na die storm is op baie vlakke nou gepas. The sound of gentle rain after the storm is now appropriate on many levels. Met ons liefde, soos altyd. With our love, as always. George & Matilda

  Gratitude As Motivation “ You don’t get wormy apples off a healthy tree,  nor good apples off a diseased tree.  The health of the apple tells the health of the tree.  You must begin with your own life-giving lives.  It’s who you are,  not what you say and do, that counts.  Your true being brims over into true words and deeds.” ‭‭Luke ‭6‬:‭43‬-‭45 The Message                               ‬‬ ~ ❖ ~ “ My friends, this can’t go on.  A spring doesn’t gush fresh water one day and brackish the next, does it?  Apple trees don’t bear strawberries, do they?  Raspberry bushes don’t bear apples, do they?  You’re not going to dip into a polluted mud hole  and get a cup of clear, cool water, are you?” ‭‭James‬ ‭3‬:‭11‬-‭12‬ ‭The Message‬                             ~ ❖ ~  The Conversation Ele...

My suster stuur vir my ‘n e-pos met interessante woorde wat basies onvertaalbaar is en net so in die oorspronklike gebruik word. Eintlik is dit leefstyle wat in woorde saamgevat word. Onder andere Hygge. Die Deense woord vir ‘n leefstyl wat koesterend, sorgsaam en intiem is. Wat vra dat jy die oomblik waarin jy is, hoe eenvoudig ook al, sal geniet en die waarde van “dit stadiger vat” nie onderskat nie. Ek sit ‘n lang ruk daarna en kyk. Is dit net iets in die lug, deel van die groter “collective consciousness”, of bloot ‘n nuwe gier? Iets wat deur stylghoeroes herontdek en afgestof is? Sy weet nie dat ek nou al vir byna 2 weke materiaal versamel oor Hygge nie. Aanhalings, foto’s, artikels. Ek het effens teruggehou omdat ek gedink het dit mag half onvanpas wees om hier aan die begin van die lente daaroor te skryf; Hygge is baie tuis in die winter kom dan tot sy of haar reg. Waarskynlik is dit waarom dit my reg van ...

“Who do you suppose carves canyons for the downpours of rain, and charts the route of thunderstorms That bring water to unvisited fields, deserts no one ever lays eyes on..?”                                   Job 38:25-26(The Message) Greyia sutherlandi Natal bottlebrush. At the start of spring, even before the rain, when everything is still dry and brown, remnants of winter, it blooms. Not timidly. Not obscurely. No! Loud shouts of red higher up the mountain across the river. Putting up their display in plain sight. Flaunting it. Red, red, red. Right on the lip of the cliffs, flower arrangements in mid-air. They keep so well in pots, last for days. If you can get to them. If you can lean over far enough, stretch your reach to i...

Fairy food in the making. Photo by Matilda Angus Some years ago, I bought myself a magical book: Margaret Robert's book, Edible and Medicinal Flowers. It gives me endless pleasure to page through it and read that even day lilies, tulips and yucca flowers are edible! Imagine that! Imagine serving your family a Day Lily stir fry or Hollyhock scones. Reading the recipes makes me feel like a fairy in a Spring garden, a little lightheaded and delirious like a pollen-laden bee. Now nothing announces Spring quite like the fragrant purple cascade of a Wisteria climber. And, like Spring and sunbirds, it's swift evanescence makes it even more important to somehow capture something of the sweet glory before it fades. To my delight I found a couple of recipes using Wisteria flowers in my fairy book! One being a recipe for Wisteria fritters* which has become part of my Spring celebrations. This year I could share it with retreat goers at two retreats before it started fading. They...

Poppy outside my window Photo by Matilda Today I'm going to start living like a monk not allowing the god Critic to dictate my song but to hear the gentle call of the Bird God, saying "Look outside your window! There's a second poppy blooming." It has exploded, pink shrapnel hanging in tatters from its detonating core. Another little bomb sits waiting to shake my world with a colour explosion. Being monk I will tend the plants that exploded like an orgasm. Taking deep delight in the birth of its seed and the beauty of its short life. Being a monk I will look out for love letters all day long, Listen for the Lover's song and stand naked and trembling for a touch, a soft wind hand stroking my face. I will explode like the pink poppy and bloom under this Spring Sun. Matilda

Increasingly I find that I am not alone in my perception of what seems to be the necessary, but time-wasting activity, of resting. Even by unthinkingly calling it an activity, I in effect defy its purpose, that of regeneration through non-activity. Why do we feel so guilty when we try to rest? Our minds rushing ahead to what has to be done, what needs to be done, how to do it, when to do it. I often give up on resting and get up to start the doing, robbing myself of something life giving. Like not drinking enough water to hydrate my cells , I dehydrate my soul by not getting enough rest. I promise myself, of course, to go to bed earlier tonight. For somehow, a night’s sleep can be justified. And for most of us that is mainly what resting consists of: going to bed at a reasonable hour and sleeping till duty calls at daybreak. But to purposefully REST? To have a regime almost, like a gym program, to schedule time to settle down, to become quiet and to find peace? That ranks very low on...