When Is Too Much… Too Much?

When curiosity starts to feel like clutter.

I’m not usually a compulsive person. But over the past few months, I’ve noticed something creeping in — a tendency to buy everything tea or tea-related.

You’ve seen the mess I created. I’m happy to report it’s mostly under control.
I think.
Sort of.

On a recent tea at The Queen’s Library, I bought three different teas, a journal, a stirring spoon, and a wooden tool for getting honey. (Does anyone know what that’s actually called?) Did I need any of it? Not really. But I couldn’t help myself.

The teas we had during afternoon tea were delicious — all three — and I wanted to take that experience home with me.
So I did.

Wanting to learn more, I bought books about tea. Eight of them. A mix of enthusiast guides, casual reads, and one very official-sounding teacyclopedia. I’ve read three so far and genuinely enjoyed them. I’ve learned a lot. I’ll share more about the books another time.

But somewhere along the way, I started to wonder — when does curiosity tip into too much?

For me, I know I’ve crossed that line when the fun starts to fade. When reading about tea feels more like homework than pleasure. When I feel overwhelmed instead of curious.

I keep a small notebook by my tea station, meant for first impressions and simple notes. Lately, I’ve found myself “forgetting” to write anything at all. That’s usually my sign.

I want this journey to be about discovery — tea houses, rituals, and enjoying the process. And right now, buying more is getting in the way of that.

So I’m calling a small moratorium. No new tea purchases for a bit. No new accessories. I’m going to sit with what I already have, write about what I’ve learned from the first few books, and let myself enjoy things slowly again.

I had a couple of tea kettles wrapped and waiting for Christmas morning so, I decided to not count those. I’ve enjoyed experimenting with both kettles to see what works and what doesn’t work quite as I expected. I’ll report back.

For now, I’m reminding myself that tea is meant to be savored — not collected.