Life is Full of Things We’d Rather Not Look At

Life is Full of Things We’d Rather Not Look At

 

Life is Full of Things We’d Rather Not Look At

There’s a ritual that follows every summer walk in Nova Scotia. The dogs get inspected first. Then it’s my turn. If Joe is home, he helps. A romantic summer ritual if ever there was one.

I’ll be honest – nobody enjoys the tick check. There’s something unsettling about searching for a thing you hope isn’t there. It would be easier not to look. But not looking is the only truly dangerous option. A tick found tonight is nothing. A tick unnoticed for weeks is a different story.

Life is full of things we’d rather not look at.

For those who have served, in uniform, on the front lines, in emergency rooms, operational stress injuries come with the territory the same way ticks come with the woods. Not everyone picks one up, but everyone who does the work is exposed. That’s not weakness. It’s the nature of the terrain.

And nobody stops going into the woods because of ticks. The work you’ve done, and the reasons you signed up, were worth it. An injury along the way doesn’t mean the journey was a mistake.

The answer was never to stay home. The answer is to check, regularly, honestly, without shame. And some spots we simply can’t see on our own. Sometimes it takes another set of eyes, someone who’s willing to help, to notice what we can’t.

So enjoy the trails this summer. Just remember: it’s only the things we’re afraid to look at that have the potential to become problems.

At Landing Strong, nobody checks alone. Reach Julie at jwells@landingstrong.com or 902-472-2972.

 

Warmly,

Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych.
Executive Director, Landing Strong

 

 

 

Savouring Summer Moments

Savouring Summer Moments

 

Savouring Summer Moments

There are few things more satisfying than creating a delicious summer meal from fresh produce picked up at the local farmers market – or better yet, from your own garden. This time of year, the colours are richer, the smells are sweeter, and the food literally bursts with flavour.

I enjoy preparing these meals thoughtfully. But the real magic happens afterwards: savouring them slowly, enjoying one another’s company over good conversation out on the patio. Perhaps a game of Scrabble, if I can convince anyone to join me. My family has developed a remarkable talent for disappearing the moment the board comes out.

My favourite part about these meals? Nobody is in a rush to go anywhere.

We spend so much of our lives moving quickly. Eating on the go, rushing between commitments, checking the clock. Somewhere along the way, meals became something to get through rather than something to enjoy. But summer offers us a gentle invitation to slow down. The evenings are long. The tomatoes are ripe. The conversation can wander wherever it likes.

There’s healing in this kind of slowness. When we take time to truly taste our food, to linger at the table, to laugh with the people beside us, we’re practicing something important: being present. Not planning, not worrying, not bracing for what’s next. Just here, now, with a plate of something delicious.

Perhaps the best summer moments are a little like those garden tomatoes. Slow to ripen. Impossible to rush. But maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what makes them sweet.

So here’s my invitation to you this week: prepare one meal slowly. Share it with someone if you can. Then sit back, and savour.

And if you’re looking for more good company, our community would love to have you. Just drop Julie a line or give her a call – jwells@landingstrong.com, 902-472-2972. 

Warmly,

Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych.
Executive Director, Landing Strong

 

 

 

Learning to Float

Learning to Float

 

Learning to Float

I come from away. How is it obvious? I like to swim in lakes. Unlike my friends who grew up in Nova Scotia, I prefer to actually feel my body while swimming. There’s a particular sound a person makes entering the Atlantic in early summer. It is not dignified.

So last weekend found me in a warm, quiet lake, doing my usual strokes. At some point, I turned onto my back and floated. It felt glorious, gently rocking in the water with the sun warming my skin. And suddenly it struck me that the water had been supporting me the whole time, during every laboured stroke. I just hadn’t noticed until I stopped.

Life is a lot like swimming. Most days are full of strokes. It requires effort to stay afloat and move forward, and there’s no shame in that. But we shouldn’t forget the waters that surround us. There are many things in life that offer support, community being a major one. And every so often, if we can trust enough to lie back, we may discover we are supported. Floating isn’t quitting. It’s letting ourselves be carried for a moment so we have strength for the next stretch.

Perhaps we’re all a little like that swimmer. A little tired. A little out of breath. But maybe, just maybe, we’re more supported than we know.

So let me ask: when was the last time you let yourself float?

If you’re looking for a place to catch your breath alongside people who understand, our group programs might be just the thing. Just drop Julie a line or give her a call – jwells@landingstrong.com, 902-472-2972.

Warmly,

Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych.
Executive Director, Landing Strong

 

 

 

The Gnarlier We Get, the More Interesting We Become

The Gnarlier We Get, the More Interesting We Become

 

The Gnarlier We Get, the More Interesting We become

During a recent Community Connections scavenger hunt, I stumbled across an old apple tree on the Haliburton Estates. It immediately caught my attention. Its trunk was twisted and gnarled, its branches weathered by countless seasons. Time had left its mark. It may no longer produce the crisp apples it once did, but standing there, I couldn’t help but think it was absolutely beautiful.

In many ways, we are encouraged to believe the opposite about ourselves. We live in a world that often tells us to hide our age, erase our wrinkles, and chase the appearance of youth. But I don’t want to lose sight of the beauty that comes with growing older.

Our scars tell stories of what we have survived. The lines on our faces speak to the wisdom we’ve earned. Crow’s feet remind us of years spent laughing with people we love. Every mark is evidence that we have lived.

We may no longer have the bodies we had in our twenties. Yet we can still celebrate what our bodies can do: the freedom to walk with a friend, hug a grandchild, tend a garden, paddle a canoe, or simply sit outside and soak in a warm summer evening.

This summer, I’m choosing to focus less on trying to turn back the clock and more on caring for the incredible vehicle I’ve been given. That means nourishing my body with good food, moving in ways that bring me joy, and appreciating every season of life.

Perhaps we’re a little like that old apple tree. A little more weathered. A little more gnarled. But maybe that’s exactly what makes us interesting. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what makes us beautiful.

If you are managing transitions in your life and have not yet taken our Identity and Transition program, starting in September, now is the time to sign up.  Just drop Julie a line or give her a call, jwells@landingstrong.com, 902 472-2972.

Warmly,

Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych.
Executive Director, Landing Strong

 

 

 

Permission to Rest

Permission to Rest

 

Permission to Rest

I’ll let you in on a secret: I never nap. But this weekend, I snuck two in. I felt a bit guilty given how glorious it was outside (though I’d say the heat wave earns me a pass). So I gave myself permission to do exactly what I pleased. And my naps pleased me.

There can be a pressure that arrives with summer. The long days seem to whisper that we should be filling every hour with all the gifts the warm weather has to offer: barbecues, beach days, weekends at the cottage. Expectations can build up quickly.

But just because something is good, doesn’t mean more is better. Summer offers many gifts, but who says they have to be opened all at once? Participating in small ways – a short walk in nature, a phone call to a friend, a shared meal – can be meaningful. Ten minutes on the porch counts. So does a nap.

The sun takes its time setting in July. Maybe we’re allowed to take our time too.

If you’d like company at your own pace, our community would love to welcome you. Just drop Julie a line or give her a call – jwells@landingstrong.com, 902-472-2972. 

Warmly,

Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych.
Executive Director, Landing Strong