Raised in the wilderness of Londolozi Game Reserve, Bronwyn Varty-Laburn has developed a way of seeing the world rooted in connection and intuition.
Her work as Creative Director - spanning design, healing, consciousness, and the creation of intentional spaces - reflects a perspective shaped by nature and a deep reverence for the unseen threads that unite people, place, and all living things.
At the heart of this conversation is the Healing House at Londolozi - a space conceived not merely as a spa, but as an environment for reconnection.
We speak about design infused with sacred geometry, crystals, ancient wisdom, and the subtle intelligence of the natural world. Bronwyn reflects on what the wilderness has taught her, the philosophies and teachers that have guided her path, the rituals that anchor her, and the importance of returning to stillness and presence.
You grew up within the landscape of Londolozi... a place with such a strong sense of spirit, connection, and continuity. How has being raised there shaped the way you see the world?
Growing up at Londolozi, I think I was apprenticed to something far greater than myself from a very young age. The wilderness doesn’t teach in obvious ways. It asks you to listen, to notice, to feel your way into understanding. And over time, that way of being becomes your lens on life.
I don’t experience the world as separate parts - people here, nature there. It has always felt like one living, breathing system. There is a deep sense that everything is interconnected, and that we are participants within it, not observers of it.
Londolozi also carries continuity - generations of people, animals, stories and that instills a sense of responsibility. You’re part of something that was here before you, and will be here after you. That shapes how you move through the world, with a sense of care and stewardship.
The spaces you create feel deeply considered. How do you approach designing a space with that level of intention?
For me, design is less about creating something new and more about revealing what is already there.
I try to approach spaces in the same way one would approach the wilderness - by listening first. What does the land want? What is the energy of the place? What is the intention of the space, and what wants to emerge from the intangible into the tangible?
It’s a patient process. You don’t impose, you respond. You begin to notice the light, the flow, the materials. You sit deeply in the stillness, and slowly the space begins to form.
And that forming ultimately informs how people behave within it.
I draw on what I think of as the old technologies, colour, symmetry, sacred geometry - and I’m also inspired by places like Copenhagen and design masters like Ralph Lauren, where design is less about decoration and more about how we want to live in the presence of being.
It becomes a gentle act of creating spaces that support healing, joy, and a deeper connection to self.
When you began conceptualising the Healing House, what were you hoping people would experience, beyond the physical environment?
The Healing House was never meant to simply be a beautiful spa. It was intended to shift a state.
It is called a “house” for a reason. It is a place where something can return home. Home to its truest nature. A place where people can slow down enough to reconnect with themselves, with their bodies, and with something deeper in the naturascape. A place where the noise drops away and a different kind of awareness comes online. A place where the heart feels safe to expand, and where the body is given its rightful seat at the table so that we can begin to listen to what it needs.
At its core, the Healing House has always been about remembering - remembering that we are whole, that we are connected, that we are part of nature, and that healing isn’t something to force. It’s something that is allowed, when the environment supports it.
How and why have you integrated sacred geometry and crystals into the design?
Sacred geometry, for me, is the language of nature.
You see it everywhere - in the spiral of a shell, the branching of trees, the patterns of water. It’s an underlying intelligence, a kind of invisible order that holds life together.
Bringing that into the Healing House felt like aligning the space with those natural patterns - creating coherence, harmony, and flow.
Crystals work in a similar way. They hold frequency and structure. In many ways, they find you when the timing is right. The mineral kingdom is one of the most powerful grounding entry points into a deeper relationship with nature.
They’re subtle, but they support the field of the space in a quiet, stabilising way - holding something that people can feel, even if they don’t fully understand it.
Looking at it now, is there a detail or element that feels especially meaningful to you?
There are many, but it’s less about a single detail and more about the feeling of cohesion that the space holds.
There is a stillness there and that comes not only from the design, but from the people within it. The practitioners are deeply authentic and connected in their own work, and that creates a very real and grounded frequency.
Creating the space alongside my mother and brother was also a deeply sacred act. Every element, every colour, every piece of furniture, every room - has been intentionally chosen.
That level of care creates something you can feel.
Your work seems to sit at the meeting point of nature, consciousness, and design. What philosophies or ways of thinking have most influenced this perspective?
The idea of being an apprentice to nature has been the most influential.
Nature doesn’t rush. It doesn’t force. It evolves, responds, adapts. And when you align with that way of thinking, design becomes less about control and more about collaboration.
I also believe that some of the greatest teachings need to be apprenticed. In today’s world, there can be a tendency toward knowledge acquisition - particularly through digital spaces - but true understanding comes through embodiment, through lived experience.
Much of what I share in my work comes from practices and insights that have deeply supported me personally.
Are there particular people, teachers, or traditions that have guided you over the years?
Yes! so many beautiful souls have shared their wisdom with me, far too many to name.
Dr. Martha Beck’s apprenticeship has been a defining teaching in my life, and Byron Katie’s work remains very close to my heart. Beyond that, there have been countless teachers - across the world — through retreats, sacred places, doctors, and wisdom keepers who have each shaped my path in meaningful ways.
And of course, my greatest teachers are close to home - my parents, my family, my brother, who is an exceptional teacher in his own right, my phenomenal husband, who is a deeply grounded yogic practitioner, and my two beautiful children, who are a masterclass in life.
It’s a difficult question to answer without leaving someone out… so perhaps the truest answer is simply that I have been incredibly blessed.
Living so closely with the natural world, what has the wilderness taught you?
That everything is in relationship.
That stillness is powerful.
That timing matters.
That life moves in cycles - and resisting those cycles creates friction.
And perhaps most importantly, that we already belong.
What anchors you in your day-to-day life?
I am a mother so my family plays a huge part in anchoring me, my children are daily teachers!
Nature’s stillness.
Simple rituals.
And returning, again and again, to the present moment, slowing down
I place a lot of value on what I think of as the ancient tools or "free medicines" — humming, rest, walking, dance, laughter, journaling, meditation, breathwork, sunlight, gratitude, animals, safe people, cold showers, singing, drumming, being near water, and sitting by a fire.
There is a discipline in returning to these simple practices every day, and they are often the most powerful.
When things feel full or uncertain, where - or how - do you return to yourself?
I return to the body, to breath, and to nature.
Even something as simple as stepping outside, feeling the ground beneath me, listening - that’s where clarity begins again.
Is there a book or piece of writing that has stayed with you - something you return to?
There are many.
I often return to writings that bring me back to the simplicity of truth.
The Tao Te Ching by Stephen Mitchell is something I revisit often.
Women Who Run With the Wolves is a beautiful exploration of the sacred feminine.
Braiding Sweetgrass has been deeply influential.
I also love the poetry of Rumi, and many of the texts within...
And then there are smaller pieces of writing - poetry like Here Comes the Light and A Journey Within - that I return to again and again.
Londolozi carries a powerful legacy. What does being part of that story mean to you? It is both a privilege and a responsibility.
To custodian something, even for a short time, is a beautiful way of participating in legacy.
But Londolozi is not just one person - it is a collective. A village consciousness, held by many hands and hearts - human, animal, plant, and mineral.
And I trust that the collective will always hold it.
Beyond Londolozi, are there places in the world that have especially inspired you?
There are so many.
Anywhere where people are still deeply connected to land and tradition - across Africa, Italy, Hawaii, South America, India.
Ireland and Scotland have also deeply inspired me, particularly where there are still folkloric and mythical stories woven into the landscape.
I also love the Nordics, and places like Byron Bay in Australia.
Ultimately, I’m drawn to places where there is wilderness and a sense of connection.
What is one thing you hope people carry with them after spending time at Londolozi?
A sense of re-connection, love and the knowing that they are part of something greater. And I hope it they want to to be kinder in the world.
Where is somewhere you feel called to explore next?
The Angolan water tower - one of the Earth’s most sacred ecological systems. I feel deeply called to go to the source, to be in those waters.
I would also love to travel north to experience the Northern Lights, and spend time with a pack of huskies.
And more broadly, anywhere that holds ancient wisdom - both in the land and in the people.
As you look toward the next chapter - the next 100 years - what feels most important to nurture or evolve?
Consciousness.
How we think. How we relate to nature. How we design systems that honour life.
What gives you energy right now? What is something you’re learning?
I’ve been apprenticing in the ancient practice of pranayama - breathwork - and it’s one of the most powerful tools I’ve encountered.
Working with Lisa Wright has been deeply inspiring. It’s teaching me to listen more, do less, and allow more.
It’s giving me a lot of energy.
And finally, what is a piece of advice you would offer your younger self?
That where your attention goes, your life goes.
I would say to her that your thoughts create a frequency, and they must be questioned.
That the heart, the gut, and the body hold as much wisdom as the mind and that true decision-making comes from listening to all of those layers.
Slow down. Listen to your inner voice. Find it.
It is the most important work you can do.
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View 'Courageous Acts of Healing', the first in a three-part documentary series telling the extraordinary story of Londolozi in its 100th year.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?
Follow Londolozi via @londolozi and www.londolozi.com.