As you may already know, dear reader, I’ve recently developed a passion for brewing herbs.
For me, it is a deeply satisfying ritual.
There is not a single part of it I do not enjoy.
From selecting the herb, to the patience required as it slowly simmers, to the shifting colours in the pot, and finally the taste itself.
It is slow, deliberate, and grounding in a way that feels increasingly rare.
But like all things, balance is required.
I have what one might politely call an addictive personality.
When something captures my interest, I struggle not to go all in immediately.
There is a restlessness in me that wants to understand, to acquire, to perfect.
Subconsciously, I always want the best, even when “good enough” would serve me just as well.
I am yet to fully understand the root of this tendency.
Perhaps it reaches back into childhood.
We were rich in love, but we were not rich financially.
I suspect that some part of me still carries the quiet astonishment of now being able to buy freely what onc…
