July is a big, loud month. It opens with fireworks and ends in a blaze — days and nights that feel like a fiery furnace. For me, it’s also a month of travel, when family schedules sync and we try to cram in all the trips at once. We say never again. Then we do it again.
It’s the midpoint of the year — a reminder that time moves fast, that we should do the things we want to, while we can. Like the heat, everything feels intensified: the wars, the hunger, the floods, the fears, the feeling of not being able to take it all in.
What do you do with all that overwhelm?
You zoom in.
You narrow your vision. Focus on something small. Find the awe.
I read that advice somewhere — someone said it more poetically, more powerfully — but I can’t find the source. Maybe that’s the point. There’s so much information floating around, it’s impossible to hold onto it all. You can only keep what resonates. Let the rest drift away.
Still, I want to get it right. Give credit where it’s due. I search my inbox, then Google. The auto-AI feature tells me that “zoom in” has nothing to do with awe. I’m comforted knowing that it’s wrong. No matter how sophisticated machine learning becomes, only we can find the magic and meaning tucked into everyday moments.
So, instead of listing the big highlights from July, I want to zoom in. I want to note the teeny, tiny moments of awe — the ones I might’ve missed if I hadn’t paused to appreciate them.
That’s what glimmers are, after all. Small reminders that we’re going to be okay.