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My friend Nōn Wels, a mental health advocate whose podcasts you should listen to—You, Me, Empathy; We Can’t Do It Alone—created these cards with the artist Ess Crossley. They’re thoughtful, engaging and can be used in a variety of ways—with students or with close friends and partners.

Have a look and consider purchasing as a gift for you or others. If you are a teacher or own a store and want to sell or use them, click the link for ways to get in touch with Nōn.

Look for Glimmers & Balance Your Nervous System.

I write this on the Friday before the 2024 election. You’ll receive this the day after; either we’ll know who is our next president, or we won’t. We’ll be devastated, or elated. Some might be planning to leave the country forever, others might be actively renewing their leases.

I worry there will be violence.

I hope we’ll feel relief, and hope.

In the meantime, I’m out here looking for glimmers to calm myself down, and balance my nervous system.

Before I dive into what I mean by “glimmer” I want to tell you a wild story.

The other day, before heading out with Busy for our afternoon walk, I put two books on my little coffee table bench to look through when I returned.

I wrote about one of them a couple weeks ago.

Then we headed out.

I had a 4pm phone call, and I took it as Busy and I did our routine romp around our Brooklyn neighborhood.

As I neared a brownstone, I saw two books, side by side, left out for anyone to take. Anyone who knows me knows my favorite number is free.

Still on the phone as the books came into view, I stood stunned before them, saying: “Holy Shit. What the hell? This is wild. This is madness. This is the strangest thing ever,” while the person on the other end rightfully kept asking, “What? What? Tell me!”

I told her, took a photo, and then left them there, but when I got to the end of the block, the person on the other end asked me to grab them for her, so I did.

The astrologers and psychics who follow me online (I know, who knew?) all DM’d to tell me it was synchronicity, and meant I was on the right path. Which was true—literally.

What does it all mean?

Who knows, but it reminds me of a concept developed by Deb Dana, a clinician who specializes in Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD) and co-founded the Polyvagal Institute: the idea of a "glimmer."

We’re all familiar with triggers—the cues or stimuli that set off intense, negative responses, the same ones that set off our fight, flight or freeze response. Once triggered, we seek to avoid getting re-triggered and become vigilant about spotting and dodging potential potholes.

A glimmer, however, is the inverse of a trigger. It’s a small cue that nudges our body into a state of safety and connection, a key concept within Polyvagal Theory.

Polyvagal Theory, developed by neuroscientist Dr. Stephen Porges, explores how the vagus nerve—an essential component of our autonomic nervous system (ANS)—shapes our responses to the environment, impacting everything from social engagement to emotional regulation.

The vagus nerve runs down each side of our body, from the brainstem to the abdomen, carrying signals to vital organs and systems. It’s a principal player in the parasympathetic nervous system, the branch of the ANS that controls digestion, heart rate, blood pressure and the immune system. It’s our great regulator.

Our sympathetic nervous system is the other division of our autonomic nervous system, and it’s associated with fight, flight, or freeze; it grabs the reins when we’re triggered. But glimmers give the parasympathetic system—the “rest and digest” function—a chance to take center stage, creating an internal space where we can genuinely feel safe and at ease.

Human beings are prone to a negativity bias; we are more psychologically impacted by loss than by gain, and negative experiences easily hijack our limbic system, the most primitive part of our brain. This bias creates a reinforcing loop: the more negative cues we absorb, the more adept we become at spotting them. We start to seek confirmation of our worst fears and suspicions—isn’t it so fun to be human?

Glimmers are micro-moments that nourish our sense of well-being—the simple, fleeting pleasures we often overlook because we’re preoccupied with scanning for potential threats. Glimmers are the wag of a dog's tail, an unexpected smile from a stranger, your favorite Talking Heads album blasting from someone’s speakers. They're in the sway of the trees, the smell of morning coffee, uncommon books you already own left on a ledge outside.

Lucky us that glimmers are omnipresent; all we have to do is shift our attention from negative to positive and we can start gathering them throughout the day. Just like triggers, the more we look for them, the more we see.

Each glimmer is a private encounter, a subtle nudge from the universe that encourages well-being, intimacy, belonging and calm.

Biologically, glimmers act as signals that re-engage our parasympathetic nervous system, which allows us to inhabit moments of safety and stillness rather than survival. The practice of glimmering can recalibrate our nervous system, loosen the grip of our fight-or-flight reflex and foster resilience in the face of life’s inevitable stresses.

Tracking glimmers isn’t just about noticing pleasant moments—it’s a way to weave small acts of joy and connection into the fabric of our everyday experience. Glimmering can become a lifelong, cumulative practice that shapes us over time.

Like strengthening a muscle through consistent exercise (an activity I’ve heard is quite good for you) seeking out glimmers enhances our emotional resilience. By cultivating this practice, we build a warehouse of positive experiences that ground us over time, and that we can call upon and look for in difficult moments.

But noticing glimmers is only the beginning. Deb Dana suggests engaging with glimmers in a structured and meaningful way.

Here’s her suggested practice:

• See: Identify the physical and emotional cues that signal a glimmer. How does it feel in your body? What emotions arise?

• Stop: Recognize glimmers as you move through your day. They’re subtle and transient, so attune yourself to notice them regularly.

• Appreciate: Acknowledge each glimmer as it happens—perhaps with a small gesture, like placing a hand on your heart.

• Remember: Track your glimmers, experimenting with ways to build a personal “glimmer library.”

• Share: When we share our glimmers, we reinforce their impact, creating a culture of appreciation with those around us.

Glimmering is not an escape from life’s challenges, and it’s most certainly not bright siding. Rather, it’s a disciplined return, a quiet act of defiance against fear, and a testament to the mind’s capacity for stability and resilience.

Are you familiar with glimmering? If so, let me know in the comments, and tell me the last great glimmer you came across.

Until next week I will remain…