Have you ever seen fairy wrens bathing?

I had this quiet privilege just last week, in the beautiful Boonoo Boonoo National Park, near Tenterfield in Northern NSW.

I had anticipated this journey for weeks, to the simplicity of the creek, the rocks, and of course, my sunrise tea ritual. I had paused on recordings. Partly due to the work of bringing Tea Lady Ceremonies to the world, and partly because, in my own forest, the soundscape had begun to feel interrupted.

The highway in the distance had become too loud. Planes flying overhead seemed too low. A car passed or lawnmower started at just the wrong moment.

I started wondering if I should be in a recording studio.

And then, there I was, sitting on the great sloping rock by the creek, in one of my favourite “studios” with nature’s soundscape all around.

Still, I noticed a whisper of doubt, what if I’ve lost my touch?

But as always, the tea knew the way.

Be with your tea. Be with your breath.

If you’ve sat with me before, you’ll know this gentle calling. To be with your tea is to arrive. To be with your breath is to soften. In this moment, worries loosen their grip. There is a quiet safety in presence, in the inhale, and a letting go in the exhale.

Each morning of our autumn holiday, I rose early. Slipped out quietly while my beloveds slept on. Down to the creek.

Steam rose from the water. Sunlight brushed the treetops.

One morning, I hopped across the rocks and settled right in the middle of the creek, spread my sheepskin on an island of stone. From there, I could see downstream to the swimming hole.

Before long, I had company.

A gathering of fairy wrens appeared at the water’s edge. One by one, they were dipping; quick and bright, into the cold water. Hop in, hop out, quickly shake.

It felt like a shared ritual. Me with my tea. The wrens with their bath.

“Be with your tea. The rest can wait.” Sarada

Like brushing your teeth or taking a shower, your tea can find its place in your daily routine.

Rather than adding something new, simply look for the gaps; the small, almost-hidden spaces that peek out between the doing. A pause at the edge of things. This is your sweet spot. A natural moment that holds you, even briefly.

Perhaps it’s first thing in the morning, as it is for me. Or in a quiet pocket of your workday. Or after dinner, when the dishes are done and the house exhales.

I am a truly terrible night owl, and a born early bird. At home, waking with the whipbirds,  I move silently, ninja-like, down the hallway. I boil water on the stove to avoid the kettle’s rumble. Light a candle. Place sheepskin on the floor and sit with my tea while the kookaburra announces sunrise.

I wonder, do you have a natural pause point?

Where does your body lead you, when it longs for a moment of rest within the movement of your day?

Do you have a ritual of small return, of quiet tending? A routine as instinctive as the fairy wrens at the water’s edge; dipping in, shaking free, and beginning again?

If a simple daily pause speaks to you, you are warmly invited to join me at Tea Lady Ceremonies where you will find gentle, guided tea rituals whenever you need them.