Look for Glimmers and You’ll Find Some
How I discovered the power of special moments.
Hi there!
When I was a younger and healthier man, I loved hiking. Whenever my brain got too full or the darkness so thick I couldn’t see through it, I would head to the woods. A few hours of nature always did the trick.
Many of those trips had unexpected joys. I made friends along those trails, saw once-in-a-lifetime sunsets, and learned to embrace some of the noise inside my head. Among them all, one day always sticks out. It was the day I discovered the power of glimmers.
If you subscribe to my Sunday newsletter, I introduced glimmers this week. With my thoughts still in that mindset, I had to keep writing about them.
What are glimmers? They are the tiny things that happen in life to make you happier. Think of them like the opposite of triggers. Glimmers are the things that make you grateful, add joy to your life, or make you look up and say, “aw.”
Think of glimmers like fireflies, brief glimpses of light you miss if you’re not watching. Their power overwhelmed me as I was hiking one summer day.
“If you do not expect the unexpected you will not find it, for it is not to be reached by search or trail.”
- Heraclitus
Scott Ninneman also publishes the free All Things Bipolar Newsletter (off Substack). The Sunday email features the newest content about bipolar life.
Hiking out of the dark
It was one of my darkest episodes of bipolar depression. I felt like the cycle would never end. All I wanted to do was throw myself off a cliff.
My harmful desire in mind, I headed to a nearby state park.
There’s a 300 ft (91 m) waterfall in the park. I decided it was the perfect height for my terrible plan.
No matter which parking lot you start from, it’s a hike to get to the top of the waterfall. I parked my car near the visitor's center, where I knew someone would find it, and trudged off into the forest.
I stomped my feet with every step, suddenly angry at the world. Alone in the woods, I heard the birds singing above, a light wind whistling through the leaves, and the occasional crunch of squirrels hopping around just outside of my sightline.
After about two dozen stomps, my anger at the Earth had less hostility. Soon I was walking at a normal pace, my footsteps barely making a sound.
In amongst the greens and browns of the forest, I felt some of the anger release but still kept marching toward the waterfall.
Reaching up
I love to pray when in the woods. Surrounded by the beautiful chorus that is nature makes you feel closer to the one who created it all. Often, even without even thinking about it, I would call out in my mind as I walked through the woodland.
I’m not great about opening up about how I feel, and that’s also true in my prayers. Even though I consider God to be my best friend, I often feel the need to hide things from Him. Which is silly, since He already knows everything.
Yeah, that’s how my bipolar brain works.
With every step closer to the top of the waterfall, I opened myself up more.
I whispered through tears about how I felt like giving up.
“Nothing,” I prayed, “makes me feel like living anymore.”
A hundred paces from my destination, I reached a bend in the trail. The trail turned a corner and began a steep incline. As I rounded the bend, I heard rustling in the leaves nearby. Before I looked, I knew the sound was coming from something larger than a squirrel, likely another hiker, so I wiped the tears from my face.
Then I saw it. Less than four footsteps from me, with the sun shining down perfectly between the leaves on the trees, stood a mother deer and her fawn.
Neither animal seemed alarmed, likely desensitized by the frequent hikers on the trail. The doe looked in my eyes and then returned to nibbling on a green leafy plant near her front hooves.
Feeling the power
I froze in my tracks. Just when I felt like nothing could touch my frozen heart, there was a scene right out of the beginning of Bambi. For the first time in weeks, my icy heart thawed a little.
The mother deer was trusting, but still soon moved her young one further into the trees. Minutes later, they were gone from my sight, but for a few moments, it was just me and my four-legged friends alone in the world. It was a glimmer and proof I could enjoy life again.
Not every adventure is going to lead to a spectacular sight, like coming face-to-face with two deer. If you’re willing to look, though, you will find glimmers in every day.
Sometimes they come as a text message from a friend, or in the notes of a favorite song you’ve not heard in decades. Glimmers come as a child’s giggle, a loved one’s touch, and the sad movie where you ugly cry.
Most of last year, I shared in my Sunday newsletter pictures of flowers and other oddities from my yard. Searching for those glimmers each week gave me a positive focus. Each find left me a little happier.
Your task for the next few days is to look for glimmers in your world. Pay attention to the things that touch your heart. Look for the moments that make you feel joy, gratitude, or peace.
Imagine glimmers are like fireflies. Pretend you are six years old again and see how many you can catch.
Journal Prompt: Write about a time when something unexpectedly touched your heart.
Creative Writing Prompt: Imagine you are a firefly. Write a story about a day in that life.
Until next time, keep fighting.
Scott Ninneman
To help you start the year in the best mindset, be sure to check out my 5-Lesson Year-End Review Series on YouTube. Here is the week one lesson.
Additional Reading:
The book that started it all…
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Your articles often give me glimmers. I'm grateful for you and your writing.