If price tags did all the talking, life would be simple (and kind of boring). But value’s messier than that. It’s the cup of tea that actually calms you, the text that lands at the right minute, the silence that says “I’m here.” Money measures cost. Value measures meaning.
Lately I’ve been trying a tiny experiment: once a day, I buy something with attention instead of money. Ten phone-free minutes on a bench. A call I don’t rush. A walk without headphones. Mary Oliver’s question—“what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”—suddenly feels less like a thesis and more like a nudge to notice. Attention is a kind of wealth, and it compounds.
My Personal Proof
I was wearing our Comet Ring on a very average Tuesday—too many grocery bags, laughing about a dumb joke from a friend—and I nicked the gold. Tiny scuff, barely there. I could polish it out, sure. I haven’t.
That mark holds a whole scene: the joke, the weight of the bags, that overfull, absolutely-mine feeling. On paper, the “retail value” didn’t go up. In real life? It did. The ring became more valuable because it started carrying a story. That’s the thing about patina: technically it’s wear; emotionally it’s proof. The scuff turned into a little star in the band—a private constellation only I recognize. A number can’t touch that.
Value is also tangled up with time. Robert Frost’s “Nothing gold can stay” isn’t a downer to me anymore. It’s permission. Sunsets, belly laughs, first bites of something perfect—they’re valuable because they won’t last. You can’t stockpile them; you can only show up for them.
And then there’s usefulness, which never trends but always matters. In “Famous,” Naomi Shihab Nye writes about wanting to be known the way a pulley or a buttonhole is known—quietly, for helping. That’s a different economy: being worth something because you make other lives easier. Fewer fireworks, better ROI.
How to practice value (low-effort edition)
-
Run an attention ledger for one day. What made you feel richer afterward? Do more of that.
-
Memory per dollar. Ask, “Will I remember this?” before you buy.
-
Repair > replace. The fix often adds meaning.
-
Ritualize the ordinary. Light a candle for emails; make tea for hard calls. Value loves rhythm.
-
Leave a note. Add one sentence of yourself to every gift/task: “I thought of you when…”
Interwoven Hoops | Simply Agate Ring
Stanza’s Take (from inside the gold industry)
Yes, we work with gold. It’s valuable—historically, materially, culturally. But for us, the metal is the conduit, not the point. The real value is what runs through it:
-
The hands at the bench and the choices you’ll never see (but would miss if they weren’t there).
-
The sketches, proportion tests, and stone debates that make a piece feel inevitable on your skin.
-
The way a jewel becomes yours—because of where it goes with you and who you are while wearing it.
We care about the craft, the people, and the stories. The gold carries all three. That’s why a ring with a tiny scuff can be worth more to you than a flawless one in a case. The case has price; your life gives value.
If price is a number, value is a story. Spend where your life turns bright. Let the rest go. And if you pick up a little patina along the way? Good. That’s the proof.
