How good are you at letting go of stressful moments?
I increasingly believe that the ability to do so is one of the best ways to preserve your sanity, and I say this as a certified dweller.
When my daughter has an epic meltdown, for example, my stressed out brain has a habit of ruminating and extrapolating on it endlessly afterwards. Thoughts like: “I had a stressful 15 minutes! When will it stop happening? Maybe it’s because I’m a rubbish parent? Everyone else can cope with this better than me! Argh my whole life is stressful and I’m a failure” - it can really spiral, all in the 10 minutes I spend walking from nursery drop-off to the tube station.
It’s definitely not just a parenting thing - my mind can obsessively harp on when it comes to work drama too. Over the past few weeks, someone close to me has been having problems with a colleague, and my advice has consistently been “try not to dwell on it in your own time”. But that feels almost impossible doesn’t it? Especially when it’s 2am and you’re lying in bed driving yourself crazy imagining all the on-point things you’d like to say to your work enemy.
Being able to compartmentalise stressful things and not let them dominate your thoughts is very difficult, unless you’re my husband who I suspect might actually be the current incarnation of Buddha. However, ‘moving on’ is a skill I’m currently trying to work on, purely because obsessing over tricky things even when they’re not actually happening only gives that negativity greater power.
Which brings me on to glimmers.
I first spotted the word on social media, where ‘glimmers’ have become a bit of a phenomenon.
Initially I thought it all sounded unbelievably naff, like most things that go viral on TikTok and Instagram. But then, in the course of writing a feature for You magazine this Sunday (buy it!), I did some more research on glimmers, and became a convert.
If you haven’t been swept up in the craze, they are basically the opposite of triggers - little moments and experiences that give you a feeling of joy, comfort or connection. And they do actually have some therapeutic clout, as the brainchild of trauma specialist Deb Dana, who outlined the value of glimmers in her 2018 book, The Polyvagal Theory in Therapy. ‘We’re not talking great, big, expansive moments of joy or safety or connection,’ she writes. ‘These are micro moments that begin to shape our system in very gentle ways.’
What I like about Dana’s theory is that she doesn’t claim that noticing your glimmers will cure all ills in your life; more that by being more mindful of the nice little things you can introduce more light and shade into your days, and in doing do generally calm your overall mental state. I’ve noticed this is particularly helpful when it comes to breaking that doom spiral I talked about earlier. Simply becoming a bit more conscious of life’s high points snaps me out of the “this is an overwhelmingly crap day” drama I often invent in my head.
Glimmers differ for everyone - online lists include everything from smiley strangers to sushi. Here are some of mine:
Any time my daughter says “well done mummy” in the same encouraging tone I always use for her.
George Michael songs
The first sip of an oat flat white, even knowing my mum would die at the price
When I open my podcast app and see a new episode with a subject or guest I love
Using up leftovers from the fridge and the results actually tasting good
Early morning sunlight in the summer
Sitting down for dinner round the table as a family of three
The last 10 lengths of a swim
Secretly watering the houseplants outside the opposite flat because I know I’m the only one keeping them alive
Wearing too much gold jewellery
Buying books on my Kindle, especially because it is actually my husband’s old Kindle and still linked to his bank card
Ahh Soph I love this! ✨✨✨
Love this concept. Going to start writing down my glimmers