There’s a very specific kind of spiral that happens when you’re deep into your studies, tired but lit up, a little broke but wildly curious, and suddenly aware that there is so much more you could learn.
This is that spiral.
I’m currently studying acupuncture through the Diploma of Acupuncture at the Canadian College of Acupuncture and Traditional Chinese Medicine.
You can peek at the program here: https://ccatcm.ca/programs/diploma-of-acupuncture/
It’s solid. It’s rigorous. It’s already more education than most people realize goes into becoming an acupuncturist. And technically speaking, when I graduate, I’ll be qualified to practice, help people, and build a beautiful, meaningful clinic life.
So why am I over here wondering if that’s… enough?
The practical voice (you know her, she’s loud)
Let’s get the obvious stuff out of the way.
If I go on to do a TCMP or Doctor of TCM program, I will:
- Not be able to charge more per treatment
- Almost certainly take on another ~$50,000 in student debt
- Spend more time in school instead of earning
- Likely be away from home for periods of time again
From a strictly financial, spreadsheet loving perspective, the math does not math.
This is usually where people (especially my CPA friends) say, “Well then why would you do it?”
And honestly? Fair question.
The other voice (the one that won’t shut up)
The problem is… I love learning.
Not in a cute “I like reading self help books” way. In a deep, embodied, just can’t look away way. The kind where understanding why something works matters just as much as seeing that it does.
Traditional Chinese Medicine is not shallow. It’s not quick. It’s not something you master and move on from. It’s a lifetime practice, layered and relational and humbling.
And I want as much of it in my bones as I can get.
Not because I want a fancy title.
Not because I need to prove anything.
But because every extra layer of understanding changes how you see a patient sitting in front of you. It changes the questions you ask. The patterns you notice. The confidence you hold when someone trusts you with their body.
Serving patients vs. serving ego (a real check-in)
This is the part I sit with the most.
Am I craving more education because it would actually make me a better practitioner, or because I’m afraid of not knowing enough?
Sometimes it’s one. Sometimes it’s the other. Often, it’s both.
What I do know is that the women I want to serve don’t need me to know everything. They need me to be present, grounded, skilled, and honest. They need someone who knows when to treat, when to pause, when to refer, and when to simply listen.
More letters after my name won’t automatically make me that person.
But deeper study might.
The timing question (because life is not theoretical)
There’s also real life to consider.
Home. Family. Land. Rhythms. Responsibilities.
Being away again isn’t a small thing. It’s not just a scheduling issue, it’s an emotional and logistical one.
Learning has a cost beyond money. It costs presence. It costs energy. It costs stability for the people who share your life.
And that matters.
Then there’s the wild option
Here’s where it gets dreamy.
CCATCM also offers pathways to pursue a Master’s or PhD in China:
https://ccatcm.ca/programs/pursuing-masters-phd-degrees/
And listen… how incredible would that be?
Studying TCM in its cultural and clinical homeland. Deep immersion. Language. Lineage. Hospitals. Case volumes we can only imagine here. The kind of experience that changes you forever.
It’s not practical. It’s not simple. It’s not something you casually decide over coffee.
But it is thrilling to even consider.
So… how much education is enough?
I don’t think there’s a universal answer.
For some practitioners, the diploma is perfect. They practice brilliantly, ethically, confidently, and never feel the pull to go further.
For others, learning is part of the medicine. The studying itself sharpens the clinical mind. The extra years aren’t a detour, they’re the point.
Right now, I’m letting the question stay open.
I’m finishing this stage well. I’m paying attention to how it feels to practice, to study, to live inside the work. I’m watching whether the desire for more education comes from curiosity and clarity, or from fear and pressure.
And I’m reminding myself that wisdom isn’t always about more.
Sometimes it’s about enough, for now.
If you’re a student or practitioner wrestling with this same question, know this: there’s no failure in stopping, and no virtue in overextending yourself just to say you did.
Education should nourish you, not hollow you out.
And the best medicine often comes from practitioners who are both deeply trained and deeply human.
I’ll keep you posted on where I land.
For now, I’ll be here, studying, practicing, learning… and letting that be enough today.
A Gentle Note: I’m a student of Traditional Chinese Medicine, and this space reflects my learning as it unfolds. TCM is deep, layered, and complex, and I’m still finding my footing within it. I will refine my understanding over time. I will make mistakes. That’s part of doing this honestly. What I share here is my current perspective, shaped by my teachers, clinical training, lived experience, and my own biases. It’s not absolute, it’s evolving. I welcome thoughtful conversation, shared insight, and respectful correction along the way. I humbly welcome your insight. Let’s learn together. You can always find me over on Instagram to keep the conversation going.