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Joy Is Coming

An unadulterated list of ways to find joy.


Abstract artwork b y Tasmanian artist, Zoe Gray
Abstract artwork by the inimitable Tasmanian artist Zoe Gray (photographed in my living room).


If you ever woke in your dress at 4am ever closed your legs to someone you loved opened them for someone you didn’t moved against a pillow in the dark stood miserably on a beach seaweed clinging to your ankles paid good money for a bad haircut backed away from a mirror that wanted to kill you bled into the back seat for lack of a tampon if you swam across a river under rain sang using a dildo for a microphone stayed up to watch the moon eat the sun entire ripped out the stitches in your heart because why not if you think nothing & no one can / listen I love you joy is coming ~ To the woman crying uncontrollably in the next stall by Kim Addonizio

As the calendar flips (a little nauseatingly) to a new year, the air around me thickens with the usual chatter about resolutions. The ambitious plans to 'finally' get fit, learn a language, declutter the house, or overhaul your life (#guilty).


These promises often come wrapped in shiny paper but quickly unravel under the weight of perfectionism and the pressure to transform overnight (again, #guilty).


What if, this year, we traded resolutions for something softer, kinder, and infinitely more meaningful? What if we chased glimmers instead?


The term 'glimmers' comes from polyvagal theory, a concept rooted in neuroscience and psychology - and something I've become ever curious about in the latter part of the year. Deb Dana, an American clinician and author specialising in complex trauma, coined the term glimmers in her 2018 book Polyvagal Theory in Therapy: Engaging the Rhythm of Regulation.


While we’re often attuned to 'triggers' — things that heighten our stress or pull us into survival mode — glimmers are the opposite. They’re those tiny, fleeting moments that light you up, even if just for a second.


A warm ray of sunshine hitting your face, the sound of someone’s genuine laughter, the first sip of coffee in the morning. These are glimmers.


They’re reminders of safety, connection, and joy.

"The reality is your brain is designed to anticipate threats. It's designed to walk into an environment, scan it for threats, think negatively and prepare itself accordingly. Glimmers bring a sense of safety and connectedness that we often miss when we're rushing about. When we're scared or emotional, glimmers make us feel we can cope." ~ Tamara Cavenett, Clinical Psychologist

In a world where we’re constantly chasing big milestones and monumental change, glimmers invite us to shift focus. They call us to pause and notice the micro-moments that nourish our nervous system and make life feel a little more beautiful. They remind us that joy isn’t always found in grand achievements but in the gentle brushstrokes of ordinary days.


As we step into a new year, why not make it less about striving and more about noticing?


Instead of asking, What do I need to fix about myself this year? ask, What lights me up?


  • Start a glimmer journal, jotting down one small moment each day that brought you joy or peace.

  • Build a practice of curating these moments, almost like collecting sea glass (my new favourite hobby).

  • The act isn’t just about savoring joy — it’s about training your brain to notice it more often.


Chasing glimmers doesn’t mean abandoning ambition or growth. It means infusing those pursuits with a sense of curiosity and wonder rather than obligation. It’s about following the breadcrumbs of what feels good and letting those guide you toward goals that align with your values and well-being.


Glimmers can also help us navigate the inevitable challenges and low points. They’re like tiny anchors in the storm, reminding us that even in moments of struggle, joy and connection are still within reach. These moments don’t erase the hard stuff, but they do create pockets of softness where you can catch your breath.


Instead of asking ourselves to be more, do more, or achieve more, what if we just decided to notice and ground ourselves in the everyday moments that bring us joy?


And maybe, just maybe, this slower, gentler approach will lead us to the kind of change that truly lasts. That's definitely something I'm hoping for.


"Hopefulness lies in knowing that while early experiences shape the nervous system, ongoing experiences can reshape it." ~ Deb Dana

A list of potential glimmers. Take what you need. Pass it on.

*I'm going to keep adding to this list throughout this year. Check back to see how it grows.


When someone enjoys a meme or reel you shared on socials and shares it on their own socials.


Watching a dog arrive at the beach.


Catching the glimpse of a rainbow through the trees of a hike.


Catching a glimpse of a double rainbow through the trees on a hike.


When they bring you coffee in bed unprompted on the weekend.


When the dog chooses you in a room full of people.


Finding the perfect piece for your wardrobe at the op-shop.


Sitting in comfortable silence with an old friend.


Saying, I love you and watching someone’s face light up.


When the barista knows your order without you having to say it.

Someone remembering something you shared as important and asking you about it again at a later date.


“I saw this, and it made me think of you.”


The big contented sigh a pet makes when cuddling in your lap for a nap.


When you and a loved one find the same thing so funny, you laugh until you cry.


That moment before sunset at the beach when the sky’s a fluffy shade of pink, blue and purple.


When the band plays the song, you’ve been hoping they will at a gig.


Toe beans.


“I’m proud of you.”


Manifesting THE most amazing velvet suit in your EXACT size at the thrift shop (very specific but very joyful).


Receiving unanticipated feedback at work on a project you worked hard on.


“I love that idea!”


The sound of live music playing in unexpected places.


Your beloved singing in the shower while you make coffee.


A beach all to yourself.


Fresh bread.


"I just finished this book and I think you'll enjoy it."


The sound of heavy rainfall while you're tucked up inside.


The smell of a freshly lit wood fire.


The cold side of the pillow.


"Good morning, beautiful."


Getting the pool lane all to yourself.


Hitting that sweetspot in your swim where your mind clears and movement is your only focus, and it's truly meditative.




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