Bird lessons for humans: Have some tea with me!!!

While I was establishing my business and beginning my studio work, I adopted a budgie from a close friend who had to move into a care facility. Because budgies and lovebirds shouldn’t be housed together for safety reasons, he became my daily studio companion.

Before coming to live with me, he had spent most of his life inside his cage. Although he happily entertained himself with toys, he had very little human interaction. After he moved into the studio, I kept his cage door open while I worked so he could fly whenever he wanted. I talked to him throughout the day, even while he played, and before long he gradually found the courage to venture out.

Every day we shared the studio together. He sang while I painted, joined me at lunchtime, and slowly became part of my creative routine.

Then I began to notice something unusual.

A gentle reminder that creativity doesn’t only grow through work... it also grows through moments of rest.

Every 20–30 minutes, especially when I was working at my computer, he would chirp loudly to get my attention. At first I assumed he simply wanted company. But if I ignored him, his chirping became more determined. He would move from the top of his cage to my desk, peck at my keyboard while I typed, and eventually fly right past my head as though he was saying, “Excuse me… I’m talking to you!”

The curious part was that he only behaved this way when I was working at the computer. If I was drawing or painting, he was perfectly content to play on his own.

It wasn’t long before these little interruptions reminded me of someone very dear.

My late sister, Tracie, had a habit of interrupting me whenever I became completely absorbed in studying or working. She would switch off the lights, pull me away from my desk, and insist that I join her for a cup of tea and a chat.

None of my excuses ever worked.

“I have an exam tomorrow!”

“I’m in the middle of solving this equation!”

“Just give me five more minutes!”

Her answer was always the same:

“No. You must come… right now!”

It became one of our favourite jokes. We laughed about it often, and somehow she always managed to pull me away from my work long enough to enjoy a cup of tea together. Every single time I returned refreshed, wondering why I had resisted taking a break in the first place.

As time went on, I couldn’t help but notice the similarity.

It's tea time already!

Whether by God’s gentle providence or simply one of His beautiful reminders through creation, this tiny bird seemed to have taken on a remarkably similar role in my life.

Whenever I stop working, turn toward him, and spend a few quiet minutes talking with him, he settles down contentedly, as though that was exactly what he had been asking for all along.

Those few minutes almost always refresh me. I return to my work calmer, more focused, and often with fresh ideas. Once again I find myself wondering why it can be so difficult to step away for a moment.

One detail makes me smile every time.

Tracie left me one of her favourite teacups, and this little budgie is endlessly fascinated by its shiny surface. Somehow it seems fitting.

Even after I adopted another budgie to keep him company whenever my work takes me away from the studio, he never stopped insisting on our little “tea breaks.” He loves his feathered friend, yet he still makes sure I pause long enough to spend a few moments with him.

Over the years I’ve come to realize he isn’t simply asking for attention.

He’s reminding me to slow down.

To breathe.

To enjoy the moment.

To remember that creativity flourishes when we allow ourselves space to rest.

So now, whenever I hear those familiar chirps while I’m buried in my work, I smile, turn away from the computer, and say,

“Shall we have some tea, then?”