The Restory Retreat Centre

House of Parliament, Sunset (1900, 1901) - Claude Monet (Claude Monet, the French impressionist painter developed cataracts as he aged, but refused to have them surgically removed.) Monet Refuses the Operation Doctor, you say there are no haloes around the streetlights in Paris and what I see is an aberration caused by old age, an affliction. I tell you it has taken me all my life to arrive at the vision of gas lamps as angels, to soften and blur and finally banish the edges you regret I don’t see, to learn that the line I called the horizon does not exist and sky and water, so long apart, are the same state of being. Fifty-four years before I could see Rouen cathedral is built of parallel shafts of sun, and now you want to restore my youthful errors: fixed notions of top and bottom, the illusion of three-dimensional space, wisteria separate from the bridge it covers. What can I say to convince you the Houses of Parliament dissolve night after night to become the fluid dream of...

The Red Wheelbarrow so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain water beside the white chickens. -           William Carlos Williams Mily - Photograph by George Angus Warm night Women writes Man reads Cat chases moths Music from portable radio Outside, the sweltering day leans against open windows, watching listening resting -           George Angus

Photograph by Liz Burroughs taken at a Restory Contemplative Photography retreat On a recent visit to the island Lamu off the coast of Kenya, our friend Lizzie bought herself a beautiful ethnic bracelet. She constantly wears it. It is her reminder of an approach to life she often came across while being on Lamu that is captured in the word “polepole”. In Swahili it means " slowly, gently, softly, quietly; be calm, take it quietly, don't excite yourself, never mind ". For instance, on stepping off the pier into a dau, one of the traditional wooden sailing boats, the guide would say, “polepole” – “slowly, gently, don’t excite yourself”. Now, whenever she has a hectic day  at the office, or she’s in a stressful meeting she would look down on her bracelet, gently reminding her, “polepole”. I don’t know whether Pablo Neruda was familiar with Lizzie’s Swahili word, but he would have loved the idea behind her bracelet: KEEPING QUIET Now we will count to twelve and ...

Was machen Sie?  Nichts.  Ich lasse das Leben auf mich regnen.                                                                    Rahel Varnhagen  [Wat doen jy?  Niks.  Ek laat die lewe op my reën.] ~ v ~ Sit and be still until in the time of no rain you hear beneath the dry wind's commotion in the trees the sound of flowing water among the rocks, a stream unheard before, and you are where breathing is prayer.                                                 Wendell Berry   ~  v  ~ Hy laat immers sy son opkom oor slegtes en goeies,  en ...

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...

“Vertel vir my ‘n storie” is ouer as honger, dwingender as koud.                                                                               Cecile Cilliers Ek het dit al tevore genoem – dat daar op ‘n spesifieke tyd in my lewe temas en onderwerpe aanmeld waaroor ek nie doelbewus beheer het nie. Dis nie asof ek daarna gaan soek of daaroor uitvra nie. As ek maar weer sien staan hulle voor my deur. Sulke tye weet ek dat ek iets moet hoor en ag moet slaan. Die afgelope paar weke was dit weer so. Eers het ek en Matilda ‘n gesprek gehad met iemand wat baie jare onderwys gegee het. Veral tale, op die ou einde byna uitsluitlik Engels, tweede taal. Sy vertel hoe sy aan die begin van een skooljaar die voorgeskrewe boek, Lord of the Flies van William Golding uitgedeel het en toe s...

We've looked at the basics of the True and False Self in a previous post (See: True and False is true ). An article* by Elyse Santilli in The Huffington Post provides valuable insight into the more practical and day to day matters where these two concepts are concerned:  When your ego [False Self]  is in charge: You're often caught in circling thoughts (thinking about the same things over and over). You're often consumed by your emotions (especially hurt, disappointment and anger). Your inner dialogue is heavily focused on anxieties, fears, doubts and self-criticism (I'm not good enough, I'm not beautiful, I can't do this, I totally stuffed up, I am bad at this, my life is meaningless). Your worth is dependent on external things (whether you've got a partner, a mortgage, a great job, a beautiful wardrobe, a huge circle of friends). You desperately need validation from other people to feel good about yourself. You're easily bru...