Glimmers: A Practice In Receptivity

This short, guided practice helps you tune into small moments of light and beauty in your day. Without effort or searching, you'll learn to notice what is already present — helping you cultivate a sense of ease, presence, and quiet hope. It’s less about “doing” and more about being in receptivity.

There is a quiet magic woven into the ordinary—soft flickers of beauty, fleeting moments of warmth, the hush between heartbeats. You'll be invited into deep receptivity, where glimmers reveal themselves effortlessly. No searching, no grasping... just presence. Let them find you. And take this attunement with you through your day.

Music by Maksym Dudchyk from Pixabay
Photo by Geoffrey Busse on Unsplash

Transcript

Settle into this moment as if it's been waiting for you.

Let your breath spill out like a river returning to the sea.

Feel the weight of your body,

The quiet hum of being here,

Nothing to do and nowhere to go,

Just this.

Allow yourself to become aware of the support that's beneath you.

And now I'll invite you to soften the edges of your attention.

Let your senses unfurl like petals in the morning light.

Instead of seeking,

Simply receive.

What can you feel without moving?

What can you smell without trying?

What do you hear without actively listening?

What is already here whispering for your notice?

The hush between sounds,

The rhythm of the breath weaving itself in and out,

A flicker of light,

A shift in the air,

The subtlest sensation of aliveness.

When something stirs,

A glimmer,

A shimmer,

A quiet knowing,

Pause,

Not to grasp,

But to witness.

Like watching a firefly glow before it disappears into the dark.

There's no need to name it,

No need to hold on,

Just let it move through you like wind through tall grass.

And if nothing comes,

That is its own kind of presence.

Inviting you to take a breath here,

Slow and deep.

Glimmers are not found,

They are revealed,

They arrive in their own time,

Like dawn breaking through the horizon.

As you step back into your day,

Let them come to you,

A shimmer in the ordinary,

A flicker of beauty in the in-between,

A whisper of something more waiting to be seen.

Take a breath,

And when you are ready,

Wiggle your fingers and toes,

Open your eyes if they in the knowing that glimmers are always appearing,

That they don't need to be chased,

Only noticed.

And inviting you to let this practice linger as you move back into your day,

Taking with you the question,

What quiet moments of light will find you now?