I want to begin by being honest. The last few weeks have felt heavy in a way that sits deep in the bones. Nothing single and yet everything has accumulated - friends sinking under the weight of despair, loved ones facing losses and heartbreak, an encounter on a bus where police had to step in to keep people safe and the relentless stream of news about lives cut short.
This week in particular has felt like a shock wave rippling through the world. The aftermath of yet another school shooting, claiming the lives of children and injuring many more. On social media I came across two deeply disturbing videos that have stayed with me, one depicting the fatal stabbing of Ukrainian refugee Iryna Zarutska on a train while bystanders looked on and another showing the assassination of political activist Charlie Kirk in front of a crowd. These graphic videos were awful to witness on a screen and I keep thinking about how many others, including children, may have seen them too.
Alongside those global horrors, the pain is painfully close to home. I have two very close friends who have told me they have thought about ending their lives and another dear friend who is grieving the loss of a parent. Most recently, a friend of mine has been harassed and targeted by someone - a creeping, relentless sort of harm that eats away at a person’s sense of safety and dignity. Watching the people I love carry these burdens makes the world feel smaller and rawer. Being a witness to all of it has left me shaken, tender and sometimes furious.
Yet, alongside this honesty, I want to hold something else. There is still hope and strength in us, even here. There are blessings – glimmers - that carry us through, if only we allow ourselves to notice them and let them matter.
Just yesterday, I was reminded of this twice. At work, a thunderstorm broke out, rain crashing down against the office windows. A team member had just finished her day and left, stepping out into the downpour. A few minutes later, I got a call from her. She was already soaked, yet she offered to go and buy me an umbrella so I wouldn’t get wet on my way home. Despite her own discomfort, she thought of me first. How beautiful is that?
Later, because of the storm, I missed my bus and ended up taking a taxi home. I was still carrying the weight of all I’d seen and heard this week when the driver made a simple comment, “this rain is such a blessing.” He spoke about how it nourishes the trees and plants, how it makes everything lush and green. That one sentence turned into a conversation about the beauty of nature, the meaning of life and the quiet ways we are held by the world around us.
Two small moments in a single day - one from a colleague, one from a stranger - became a brilliant reminder that even in the midst of pain and chaos, there is still goodness, still connection, still life offering itself as a blessing. These are not small things to be dismissed. They are the very threads of resilience.
So yes, the world feels heavy. But inside that heaviness, we are given glimmers to carry us. We are allowed to feel their beauty. Each time we notice them, each time we let them matter, we strengthen the hope that lives within us. A hope that can hold both the brokenness and the possibility of something better.
I want to invite you, if you’re reading this, to pause for a moment and notice your own glimmers. What small blessing carried you through today? Was it a kind word, a smile, the sound of birds, a meal shared, a moment of quiet? These moments matter. They are not distractions from reality. They are proof that even in the hardest weeks, hope still breathes among us.