Yesterday, I learned a new word. Well, not a new word exactly, but a new use of a word. Glimmer had always meant something feint to me, like the glimmer of candlelight or hope. I discovered that a glimmer in the new context is the opposite of a trigger. I know triggers all too well. Those small, seemingly inconsequential things that send me into flight-fight mode stir panic and numerous unpleasant sensations. Maybe you also are too acquainted with triggers.
I'm going on a glimmer hunt.
I'm going on a glimmer hunt.
I'm going on a glimmer hunt.
Yesterday, I learned a new word. Well, not a new word exactly, but a new use of a word. Glimmer had always meant something feint to me, like the glimmer of candlelight or hope. I discovered that a glimmer in the new context is the opposite of a trigger. I know triggers all too well. Those small, seemingly inconsequential things that send me into flight-fight mode stir panic and numerous unpleasant sensations. Maybe you also are too acquainted with triggers.