This is one of those items that appeared before me thanks to a cascade of social media… It was posted by a friend who reposted it from Unvirtuous Abbey who saw it on Twitter where someone had gleaned it from a 2018 book by Deb Dana, The Polyvagal Theory in Therapy.
Fair warning, I have not tested it against the original, as in a childhood game of telephone. I haven’t…because as it is, this particular combination of words and ideas…This, I resonate with: The idea of being a glimmer in this world, to the best of my ability. Not by putting anything on, not by studying or adopting a role or persona. Nope. I simply hope to be a glimmer by my being.
I know what it has meant to me to be around people who possess these qualities…Those with whom I either spend enough time to catch the sun shining warmly within them or those I meet in a moment who seem to have found a light beam to stand in that is big enough for company because they scoot and make room. The kind of people who walk around with a bit of Wow, a shot of curiosity, a pace of awe in their step.
If you read this blog or know me, you know that I like to cook and to read about cooking—the science of it, recipes, processes… One of the qualities I have read about is umami. My understanding is that something that possesses or brings about umami is an ingredient that brings on food-fullness. Tomato paste is one of those ingredients. You don’t notice it independently in red lentil-lemon soup, for example, but without it, the soup is flatter…somehow, less whole-flavoured.
When I saw this list of Glimmer qualities, that’s what I thought of. People who by their being quietly bring about an equilibrium, a fullness, steadiness, a sense that Oh…oh this is different…simple and organic…and a bit indescribable and I like it very much and maybe it is passing, but now I know of it and I too walk with it inside of me…thanks to this experience.
It’s a shoulder drop, a deeper breath, a grounding, a pause of looking, seeing, recognizing… An experience of being more Me-full…freely offered and freely received and shared without much effort—which feels an awful lot like grace. Like Spirit. Like Awe, like Love, like God.
And really, at the end of my days, I can imagine little better than to know that feeling, have shared that feeling, and ultimately, to become a part of that feeling and presence in the biggest, deepest, most holy and cosmic sense of it.
Amen…pass the soup please…