Have you ever found yourself thinking about getting a new car, and then… suddenly, that seems to be the only car you ever see on the road?
Recently, I learned about a term called a “glimmer,” which is the opposite of a trigger. Where triggers can send us into a spiral of grief, pain, or anxiety, glimmers gently pull us toward peace, gratitude, or even just a small smile. They are micro-moments that offer a sense of calm, connection, or joy—and once you start noticing them, you begin to see them everywhere.
It got me thinking about how easily we notice what goes wrong in our day. The traffic. The comment that stings. The appointment that didn’t go as planned. Similar to what we talked about last week about negativity bias, we’re wired to detect danger, to scan for discomfort. But what if we trained our brains to do the opposite? To look for the tiny moments that remind us we’re safe, supported, or simply alive?
This isn’t “toxic positivity” and it doesn’t mean denying hard things. The hard things are real. But so are the glimmers.
For me, a glimmer might be what I’m experiencing at this moment: the sound of birds outside my window in the morning while I write and sip my coffee. A stranger who smiles back. The warm weight of a blanket after a long day. Sometimes it’s just remembering to breathe and noticing that I did.
Small moments like this help anchor me in the present. They help remind us that joy can exist alongside grief, that light can filter in even on the darkest days. That there is life after losses.
I think that’s why the idea of glimmers struck me. Healing is about widening our lens, and opening our eyes, to include more than just pain. And, frankly, learning to live with the pain.
There were times in my life when I couldn’t have spotted a glimmer if it danced across my forehead in tap shoes made of cleats. I was so consumed by grief, so lost in what I’d lost, that everything felt gray. It’s only now, looking back, that I realize there were moments of light. I just didn’t yet have the eyes to see them. That’s why training your brain to look for glimmers isn’t just wishful thinking—it’s a shift in survival.
Look, if you’re in a space right now where everything feels heavy, you don’t need to chase down big miracles. Just look for the glimmers. They might be all you can manage at first. That’s okay. One small spark at a time, they help us re-engage with life.
Here are a few ways to start spotting glimmers:
- Slow down. Most glimmers live in the present moment. When we rush through the day, we miss them.
- Use your senses. What do you see, hear, feel, smell, or taste that brings even a flicker of comfort or joy?
- Reflect on your day. Before bed, jot down one or two glimmers you noticed. A kind word. A funny moment. A breath of fresh air.
- Share them. Talk about glimmers with friends or family. When we name what uplifts us, we invite more of it.
- Allow them to count. Don’t dismiss a glimmer just because it feels small. Small is still real. Small still matters. Lots of snowflakes can add up to an avalanche.
The more we look for these tiny, life-affirming sparks, the more they show up. Not because the world changes, but because our awareness does.
Our ability to shift our attention is our superpower. Just as when that car you dreamed about is suddenly everywhere, the glimmers were always there, too. We just needed a reason to see them.
So today, I’m making space for the glimmers–not instead of the hard stuff, but right next to it. Because life is both.
What’s a glimmer you noticed recently?
