The gifts newcomers bring

The gifts newcomers bring

The gifts newcomers bring

 

When I travel to Toronto to visit my father, I often take an Uber to get around the city.

Over time I’ve made it a practice to learn about the people who drive me. Experience has taught me that beneath the surface of a simple ride, there are often stories of great courage, resilience and hope.

This trip was no exception. The car that arrived was spotless and cared for with evident pride. My driver, I soon learned, was from Afghanistan. Back home he had been a Human Rights Lawyer specializing in the protection of women and children. His wife he shared, was the Executive Director of a shelter for women fleeing intimate partner violence. Together, they had built lives of service, only to leave it all behind in order to start anew in Canada with their children.

As we talked, I commented on how big an investment his car must have been, and how difficult it is for Uber drivers to make a decent wage. His response humbled me. He said he was grateful for the work, glad to be able to provide for his family, even if it meant 14 to 16-hour days.

This fall he will begin a paralegal program at a local college, supported by a student loan. His English, he admitted, isn’t yet strong enough for law school, but his dream is to one day return to his calling.

What struck me most was his gratitude. He spoke warmly of Canada of the safety, the kindness of its people, and the opportunities it offers his family.

I left the car wishing him well and deeply moved. In truth, it is we who are fortunate, our country enriched by people like him and his wife, who bring with them resilience, vision, and hope for a better future.

 

Warmly,

 

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

Catching more than fish

Catching more than fish

Catching more than fish 

On our Community Connection excursion a couple weeks ago, Mackenzie and I decided to share a fly rod. She took the first cast. Almost instantly, she felt the tug of a fish nibbling at the line. Eyes wide, she quickly thrust the rod back to me. “You take it,” she exclaimed. “I don’t want to catch anything!” We both burst into laughter.

I stepped up, still chuckling, and tried my hand at casting. To my surprise I caught a fish almost immediately. What I neglected to mention is, that while I love fish, I hadn’t actually wanted to catch one either. It had been over forty years since I last held a fish or removed one from a hook.

There I stood, a reluctant angler facing a slippery reality. But with some fumbling and help from a certain brave veteran, the catch and release was successful. The fish swam away unharmed.

Reflecting back, I realize that the excursion wasn’t really about fishing. It was about the connections we build in shared experiences, stepping out of our comfort zones, laughing at our mistakes, and supporting each other in moments of uncertainty.

Sometimes, what we “catch” has little to do with the line and everything to do with the bonds formed along the way.

 

Warmly,

 

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

Clearing the air within

Clearing the air within

Clearing the air within

I woke up this morning feeling grumpy. At first, I couldn’t quite place why. My morning tea tasted the same.  The routine was unchanged, but my mood was off.

As the day unfolded, conversations with colleagues revealed I wasn’t alone. Many of us were carrying a low-grade irritability that didn’t seem to have an obvious source.

After some reflection, the answer became clearer. We’ve been living under the quiet but persistent weight of worry; going to bed each night thinking of friends and family living closer to the fires, being startled awake by alarms on our phones, or noticing on certain days how the air is hazy with smoke.

Even if the flames aren’t at our doorstep, the unease is still there.  It’s the kind of stress that creeps in quietly, showing up in our moods, our energy, and our ability to focus. Left unrecognized, it can leave us feeling frayed around the edges.

I’m reminding myself to pause and ground. To seek out small moments of calm, whether it’s the simple act of taking a few slow breaths, stepping outside to notice the beauty that remains untouched, or connecting with someone who helps me feel steady.

While it might be hard to control the fires, we do have the ability to tend to our internal landscape. Choosing calm in small ways each day may not stop the smoke from drifting in, but it helps clear the air within.

We’re currently filling two great group programs, and fall is the perfect time to join us.  We have Identity & Transition coming up on Fridays September 19, 26, October 3, 10, 17.  We also are loading up our popular Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction program September 9th, 16th, 23rd, October 2nd (Thursday), 7th, 14th, 21st, 28th. (945am to noon)
Optional 3-hour retreat Nov 4th. (9 to noon)

Contact Julie to learn more and to get on the list! 902-472-2972 or info@landingstrong.com 

Warmly,

 

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

When freedom meets responsibility

When freedom meets responsibility

When Freedom Meets Responsibility

I’ve always found my deepest sense of calm in the woods; it’s my sanctuary. So when the recent restrictions came into effect, limiting access to forested trails, I felt a surge of frustration. It seemed unnecessary, even intrusive, as though a small but important freedom was being taken from me.

A few days ago, while walking the Blockhouse Loop I spotted a man standing over dry grass, cigarette in hand. Ashes dropped onto the tinder-dry vegetation at his feet. I felt a spike of alarm. I approached him gently, asking him to move to the paved area, pointing out the risk of fire and our shared responsibility to take extra care. He laughed, smiled, and thankfully, complied.

It was after this moment that my perspective shifted. Common sense I realized, isn’t always common. Sometimes restrictions exist because not everyone takes precautions on their own. Rather than being resentful I now hold deep respect for those tasked with maintaining safety for all.

My gratitude extends too, to the first responders working tirelessly to contain the wildfires sweeping our provinces. The few hours of smoke we inhaled last Saturday were but the faintest hint of what they endure daily.

Freedom I’ve learned isn’t only about what I want. It’s about choosing care for the greater good.

We’re currently filling two great group programs, and fall is the perfect time to join us.  We have Identity & Transition coming up on Fridays September 19, 26, October 3, 10, 17.  We also are loading up our popular Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction program September 9th, 16th, 23rd, October 2nd (Thursday), 7th, 14th, 21st, 28th. (945am to noon)
Optional 3-hour retreat Nov 4th. (9 to noon)

Contact Julie to learn more and to get on the list! 902-472-2972 or info@landingstrong.com 

 

Warmly,

 

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

Finding our way together

Finding our way together

Finding our way together

The other day was incredibly hot. Joe was out of town, so I found myself in charge of our three dogs. Normally, on days like this, we’d head to Grey Mountain to let them cool off in the river.

“I can do this,” I thought to myself, even though I have absolutely zero sense of direction.

We made our way up the mountain, and just as we started, the sky opened into a sudden, freak thunderstorm. The first part of the trail went smoothly, and feeling braver than usual, I decided to try a second loop.

Big mistake.

Within minutes, I was turned around, completely soaked, and had no idea where I was. After ninety minutes wandering in rain-drenched clothes, with poor 13-year-old Nara struggling to keep up, I began imagining what I might need to do if we were stuck out there overnight.

Then, by sheer luck, a chance turn brought me back to the right road, and there was my car, appearing from the opposite direction than I’d expected. Relief washed over me.

Reflecting back, it struck me how tempting it is to tell ourselves we can handle things alone. And often, we can. But that doesn’t always mean it’s the wisest, or kindest choice.

Trauma recovery isn’t so different. Just because you can try to navigate it by yourself doesn’t mean you should.

There’s strength in reaching out. In choosing to walk the trail alongside others who understand the twists and turns.

At Landing Strong, that’s exactly what we’re here for: to help you find your way, even when the path feels unclear.

You don’t have to do it alone. And truly, you were never meant to.

Warmly,

 

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