As a middle-ish aged woman who has never been accused of optimism, I have often crossed my arms over my chest to protect myself from such things as attitude adjustments, “looking at the bright side”, and other perspective-shifting terrors that might —gasp— bring glad tidings. I rather like being a grump sometimes. There is a certain quirky charm to being a malcontent, I like to imagine. I also like to imagine that it perhaps keeps me from disappointment. 1
But I have started to wonder if maybe I am stewarding my energy poorly in doing so. Am I grasping at the proverbial straws, in an attempt at self-preservation? And is that sort of self something I ought to desire to preserve? Am I keeping myself from disappointment, if I decline to name the goodness around me?2
Am I protected or am I bitter?
I read somewhere that a “glimmer” is almost the opposite of a trigger. Instead of sparking dread or hyper-vigilance, a glimmer initiates the experience of pleasure, delight, or joy. I might even go so far as to relate it to the German word sehnsucht — which is used to describe a sort of wistful longing, one that doesn’t lead to discontent but rather pulls the threads of a deep-seeded hope.
Thus, I have begun keeping a list of shiny little glimmers, things that spark in me a sense of hope or beauty or wistfulness. Things for which I am ready to uncross my arms. Things that bring me glad tidings of the coming glory. Things that I think, maybe, I might be ready to hold up as a sort of talisman3 against the draw to bitterness and pessimism.
So here we go.
The love chapter in Hannah Coulter
A clean patio with all my plants pruned and tidied up
My idea list of how I planned to decorate my table for Housemoot
Baking with whole wheat flour I milled myself
A pinboard where I am only pinning things I find beautiful (NOT things that make me want to create a to-do list, buy a bigger house, or improve something)
Hand-thrown bud vases I am storing up as gifts
Watching my husband and son work together on a house project
A bouquet of newly-sharpened pencils (and a jar of colorful markers)
Ben Rector’s song Wreck
Instrumental pieces by William Augusto - listening is like floating
Reading a book outside in the slightly-less-stifling fall weather
Swapping jokes and ideas on a sunny afternoon with my (almost teen) daughter
Diffusing a really cozy essential oil blend in a clean kitchen
Praying with friends over a FaceTime call
Enjoying —like, truly enjoying— my kids and their unique stages. Not that it’s without difficulty or frustration, but seeing and celebrating and affirming my kids nourishes them and in turn, nourishes my own heart
I know this looks suspiciously like one of those gratitude lists that Ann Voskamp (and, like, science) told us to make. And perhaps to the untrained eye, yes, this is just a list of things to be grateful for and yes, I am absolutely grateful.
But I am also curious about leaning in to Keats’ idea that “a thing of beauty is a joy forever”, in a world that offers excess consumption at high speeds. How might I drink more deeply of the goodness and glories of this world? And in so doing, how might I know more hope, more delight, more closeness with the God of all glories?
What must I say no to, in order to sharpen my vision for the glimmers that speak glad tidings to my heart?
On the short list: doomscrolling, phone in the pocket, problem-solving without prayer, that second iced coffee, staying up past 10:30pm.
What can I say a liberating yes to, that I might have clearer sight of all the glimmering gifts of my days?
Off the top of my head: praying aloud, standing outside in the morning, stretching my body, remembering my supplements come onnnnnn, phone-free hours.
I think this is my version of “taking thoughts captive” — that ancient imperative given to the challenging church at Corinth. I love how scholar Eugene Peterson translated that passage from 2 Corinthians 10:
We use our powerful God-tools for smashing warped philosophies, tearing down barriers erected against the truth of God, fitting every loose thought and emotion and impulse into the structure of life shaped by Christ. Our tools are ready at hand for clearing the ground of every obstruction and building lives of obedience into maturity.
(Emphasis mine, of course)
This is my attempt at clearing the ground, rejecting my natural bent towards realism pessimism, so that Christ in me can build maturity and obedience. It’s a way I shall try to fit “every loose though and emotion and impulse” to this life that is being sustained and shaped by Christ.
We’re looking for the glimmers here, people.
Are you in?
Wait — two things —
My son is notorious for saying, “Hey, mom! One thing! No, wait — two things!” and it is not usually literally two things, it’s as many as are in his head at that time. I am borrowing this from him for my post script.
I’m re-reading Miss Prim and it’s fascinating all over again.
I discovered a Little Women miniseries and it’s gorgeous. I’m only starting, but so far it’s wonderful.
This little app gives me quick and easy brain breaks.
Best chapstick ever.
I’m glad you read this (presuming you did). Questions, comments, smart remarks wildly affirmative words of hope and peace welcome.
warmly,
Not true, but somehow my brain keeps offering this method to me?!
We know the answer…
Obviously I do not believe in literal talismans (talis…men?)