Come with me to the carpeted hallway of my parents’ house, 13 years ago. It’s honestly amazing that I can’t remember if I was wearing my pink eye patch or whether I’d already graduated to “prism” glasses (because I had felt so embarrassed for wearing an eye patch and having a crossed eye). Though there are some fuzzy parts of this memory, these are the things that I so clearly remember: I was wearing my baby blue Disneyland t-shirt and athletic shorts. My heart was beating loudly, full of both trepid energy and courageous energy. And I was walking, unassisted, for the first time since my extreme traumatic brain injury a few months prior.  I was no longer using a wheelchair or a 4-point cane or a single cane or having someone else hold me with a gait belt; this was the moment that I was walking all by myself. For these 5 to 10 seconds, I was beaming. My parents and sister, on the other end of the hallway, were too.

Maybe you’ve heard the expression that affect is contagious. Calm begets calm. Defensiveness begets defensiveness. Joy begets joy. And my mom, dad, sister, and I could not stop smiling. I still had an incredibly long way to go in my recovery, but this moment gave me so much perseverance, hope, strength, energy, gratitude, and joy.

I notice a deep breath right now, and wetness in my eyes. When I think of this moment today– in the middle of my work day at a local cafe– I feel strengthened. Even though I regularly experience what most people might say is the everyday shuffle and chaos of life, I also notice that when I pause to think about this micro-moment, the seemingly stressful and inconvenient things of the day kind of drift away.

Reflecting on learning to walk again is a glimmer moment for me. Deb Dana, a LCSW who specializes in complex trauma and the nervous system, coined this term: “Glimmers refer to small moments when our biology is in a place of connection or regulation, which cues our nervous system to feel safe or calm” (The Polyvagal Theory in Therapy). Glimmers are the opposite of triggers, as triggers cue danger whereas glimmers cue safety. Glimmers help our nervous system relax. Even though this micro-moment is from 13 years ago, I am viscerally strengthened by it in the present moment when I remember it.

I think it’ll be apropos to post this on Easter, because Easter to me means joy. That seemingly hopeless circumstances can change. That hope and healing and miracles are within the realm of possibility. And that light surely lives alongside all the darkness. Me having the capacity to walk again is overflowing support of all of these things.

May we be on the lookout for these micro-moments in our everyday lives and may we intentionally recall those micro-moments in our past that can help strengthen us in the present. Jesus is alive!!

For More:

• Update on Gentle and Joy Experiment from last month’s post: I’ve gotten a lot of positive personal feedback. And I love doing it, and will keep at it. Join me!
• Learn about me as a writer
• Learn about me as a therapist
• Pain and joy interwoven: My trauma and healing story