#mondaydelights: twinkly gold earrings.

Happy Monday, friends. Today’s delight is pure fun: the handful of twinkly gold earrings that are making me happy right now.

I have several pairs: the slender gold rectangles above, a gift from my friend Abigail; the sunbursts I found at an Abilene boutique over Christmas; a pair of tiny bicycles (a gift from my partner); and a pair of delicate gold gingko leaves by the same artist.

I’ve been rotating them out with my winter scarves (or, more recently, during a much-needed long weekend in San Diego), and it brings me a burst of joy to have some sparkle at my ears, especially on these grey winter days.

What’s bringing you sparkle in the midst of winter?

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wearing my own ring

Three summers ago, in the wake of a stressful move, I hopped a train to New York City for a solo weekend getaway. It was August – and hot – but I stayed at the cute, cozy Larchmont Hotel (now defunct, sadly) and spent all weekend wandering the Village and drinking gallons of hibiscus iced tea.

My travels led me at some point to Bleecker Street, where I bought a gorgeous green malachite ring from a friendly Turkish man selling jewelry from an open stall. I wore it almost every day for months, until it got accidentally crushed under the wheel of my car.

I tried to tell myself it didn’t matter that much, but I was sad about it for weeks. That ring felt like a talisman, a bit of beauty I had chosen for myself, in the midst of a long, chaotic season crowded with lots of other changes that I did not choose.

I ended up back in NYC last December, staying at the Jane and soaking in the city I love, dressed in its sparkling holiday cheer. I wandered back down to that stretch of Bleecker one day, after brunch at the Cornelia Street Cafe (best eggs Florentine I’ve ever had). My Turkish friend was there again, the last in a line of white-peaked stalls, open for one of the last times before winter. I spent some time chatting with him, and picked out a beautiful garnet ring this time.

Recently, that ring has migrated from my right hand to my left: a tangible reminder of bigger things that are shifting in my life. My address has recently changed, too: this past weekend, I moved to East Boston, to a little studio right around the corner from where I dog-sat this spring. For so long, the rhythms of my life have been shaped by my marriage, and that, too, is changing. It’s hard and painful, even though it’s the right thing.

In the midst of all this (further) change, wearing my own ring feels like a small but vital act of self-care: a visible reminder that I am acting for myself in this season. (The tank top in the first photo – a PEI find from Kim Roach a few years ago – doesn’t hurt, either.)

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August Break 2017: silver

My favorite necklace, stamped with the word that has come to define both who I am and who I want to be.

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August Break 2016: my hands

I bought this ring last weekend on my solo trip to NYC, from a Turkish man selling jewelry on Bleecker Street in the Village. I love it. (I also drank about a gallon of hibiscus iced tea during that heat wave.)

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#AugustBreak 2015: talisman

Reposting this photo from a couple of weeks ago: my favorite necklace, which I rarely take off these days.

I chose “brave” for my one little word in 2010, which ended up being the year we moved from Texas to Boston. (There were other challenges, but that was the biggest one.) Since then, brave has become ever more important to me. Sometimes it’s a rallying cry, sometimes a gentle reminder.

I keep hoping that if I wear this necklace long enough – and practice bravery often enough – brave will sink right through my skin and deep into my soul.

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