Look for the glimmers ✨

Tired of focusing on triggers? Try this instead.

On paper, it seemed like the perfect opportunity: an all-expenses-paid, four-day trip to sunny St. Petersburg, Florida. A warm place in early February. A work trip during which I didn’t have to do much work, beyond connecting with dear colleagues and the wonderful young journalists I advise.

But this was also a trip to the place where my husband died — a retreat that would begin two days after the seven-year anniversary of his death. It was a return to the place where I hunkered down during a pandemic, said goodbye to my furry best friend, and was hospitalized for postpartum psychosis. On top of it all, I would spend the majority of those four days at my old workplace, a building I hadn’t stepped foot in since February 2020.

This was more than a simple work trip, and I debated for a long time whether I should go. Would returning so soon after a death anniversary be a mistake? How would I feel? What if I went and regretted it? Ultimately, after weighing the risks and rewards, I decided to go. I spent last week in the city where I experienced many of my life's most defining moments. And I did it with a very clear plan in place: To look for the glimmers.

The glimmers, as it turns out, were not hard to find.

Glimmers, as coined by licensed clinical social worker and psychotherapist Deb Dana, are the opposite of triggers. 

Psychological triggers appear in all forms. Triggers can be places, objects, people, or events that spark intense negative emotions. And they are unique to you. For one person, fireworks may be joyful; for another, loud explosions could trigger traumatic memories.

Like triggers, glimmers are also varied and specific to each person. Whereas triggers make us feel unsettled and unsafe, glimmers give us a sense of calm and contentment. And just as it’s helpful to know your own triggers, identifying your glimmers — your own small, micro-moments of joy — can be beneficial, too.

I knew that returning to St. Pete in early February could be challenging for me. In preparation for the trip, I mentally cataloged all the triggers I might encounter, the things that would send my brain spiraling back to a dark place. Not surprisingly, this exercise made me feel terrible. 

“Are you sure this trip is a good idea?” my partner, Billy, tentatively asked me after I’d had a particularly anxious day leading up to my departure.

“I’ll be fine!” I snapped back. Then I started to cry.

Glimmers, glimmers everywhere.

That moment between me and Billy — where doubt met defensiveness — spurred me into action. I am a stubborn Taurus, after all, and I wanted to prove that I was indeed fine. I wanted to prove that I could return to a place full of big memories and focus on the good. But trying to protect myself from potential triggers ahead of my trip wasn’t working. That’s when I remembered that I could scan the horizon for glimmers, too.

The idea of glimmers was first introduced by Deb Dana in her 2018 book on polyvagal theory, but the concept skyrocketed into popularity thanks to a 2023 TikTok video that went viral. In the video, Dr. Justine — referencing Dana’s work — notes that purposefully looking for glimmers “is important because humans have a negativity bias towards scanning for threats/danger (especially after trauma).”

Yep. Can confirm.

So I switched tactics and made a plan to look for glimmers instead. I told a few friends about the idea. I shared with Billy how I’d be documenting whatever glimmers I found throughout my trip. And I decided I’d write about the experience right here in this newsletter.

Many glimmers, Dana explains, are tiny, unexpected moments. A glimmer can be the feeling of warm sunshine on your skin after you leave a cold, air-conditioned building. The sound of rain as you snuggle into bed to sleep a little bit longer. The blast of a trumpet from a musician on the street corner.

But glimmers can also be sought out, especially once we get better at identifying the things that bring us a sense of joy and calm. For me, standing still and looking out onto the water almost always sparks a glimmer. Same for hugging a dear friend or going for a long walk. These were all things I could easily do during my trip.

So I did. I visited the waterfront, caught up with old friends, and walked all over the city. I got good sleep, soaked up plenty of sunshine, and opted for writing over checking emails. I took note of any unexpected joys I encountered. I snapped photos, jotted down observations in my Notes app, and tried to soak it all in.

By the time my trip ended, I was amazed to realize that I hadn’t experienced a single moment that left me feeling triggered. As for the glimmers? I found plenty.

Making a cute emoji-filled list of glimmers? Also a glimmer!

I didn’t have to work hard to find the glimmers. For me, St. Pete is a place where a lot of bad things happened, yes, but it’s also where I experienced a dazzling amount of good. It’s where I met Billy. Where I became a mother. Where I cemented some of my dearest friendships. Where I experienced many career highs and incredible opportunities. Where I spent my last years with Jamie. Where I became the person I am today.

Returning home, on the other hand, was a bit harder than I anticipated. I was greeted by a sniffly toddler and a tired partner. The weather in Atlanta has been nothing but gray, gray, rainy, gray. My sleep has been interrupted. The dishwasher needs to be unloaded. The laundry folded. The tasks I’d put off before my trip are now more pressing than ever. 

But there are glimmers abound here, too. Some, I can seek out (reading bedtime books with my kiddo? yes, please) and some are a surprise (after a few great restaurant visits, nothing was as comforting as my first meal back home).

I sometimes feel a bit self-conscious writing about saccharine things like glimmers — or about documenting the joys, practicing gratitude, or noting the good at the end of each day. These are simple concepts, right? Do I really need to devote yet another newsletter to this idea?

Then I remember how I felt leading up to my work trip. How my sweet, dumb, wired-for-negativity brain was on high alert, expecting the worst. Proactively looking for the glimmers saved me from that reality. It kept me present, feeling calm and centered. It gave me the gift of a wonderful trip, reuniting with old friends, connecting with new people, and gaining a much-needed boost of confidence.

My negativity bias had me convinced that last week would be difficult. In the days leading up to my departure, my stomach roiled and anxiety raged. But once I arrived in Florida, glimmer plans firmly in place, my body and mind relaxed.

Thank you, I told myself. Thank you for choosing to take this trip, despite your fears. Thank you for choosing the path of growth.

That path, as it turns out, is illuminated by glimmers.

xoxo
KHG