We have your back

We have your back

This week, the residents of Kansas City struggled to come to terms with the horrific outcome of what was supposed to be a joyous event. One person was killed and more than 20 wounded following a shooting during the Super Bowl parade. This was the 48th mass shooting in the United States since the beginning of the year. That’s more than one a day. What used to be an outlier event has now become alarmingly normal.

While we might get used to hearing about such events on the news, it is never normal for those who are called to respond. Our hearts naturally go to the victims and their families. What is often overlooked is the devastating impact it has on the first responder community. We rush to treat those who are physically wounded, not always recognizing the psychological devastation left behind by these incidents. Often, they are hidden or take time to surface.

Seeing this event, I am reminded of how many Nova Scotians may be living with invisible injuries. We remain committed to ensuring that we have your back; that no-one who is injured is left standing alone.

We are immensely grateful for the work our first responders do.

Warm thoughts,

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

Finding beauty in unexpected places

Finding beauty in unexpected places

Late this past Saturday afternoon, as Nova Scotians were swept in a swirl of snow, Torontonians were bathed in unexpected sunshine.

Moderate temperatures and clear blue skies had coaxed even the most hesitant outdoors.

I was leaving the hospital after a good visit with my father and came upon an unexpected sight; on the slope of a large hill sat dozens of families and couples enjoying picnics. Behind them stood a large crowd of onlookers all gazing across the park below. I wondered if a concert was about to begin and thought maybe it had already started since many people had their cameras out, all pointed in the same direction. I could hear nothing, nor see anyone performing in the natural amphitheater below.

Then I realized what everyone was gazing at: a glorious sunset spreading its last rays over the skyline of the city. Like animals waking from deep hibernation, people had stumbled outdoors, dazed by the beauty of the mid-winter sun.

Even in the greyest of winters, we can find windows of warmth and light.

I hope that now you have dug yourselves out from under, you too are able to pause and catch glimpses of the unexpected beauty that surrounds us.

Warm thoughts in a wintery week,

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

The art of being present

The art of being present

It is February 2nd – Groundhog Day.

Legend has it that if the groundhog emerges from its den and sees its shadow, it will retreat, and winter will slog on for another six weeks. If it doesn’t see its shadow, spring will arrive early. Judging by the amount of snow we’ve had this week winter is far from over.

In the early darkness of winter evenings, I sometimes catch myself wishing the days away, yearning for the warmth and light that come with spring. Dark winter nights can have a distinct Groundhog Day feel to them.

As much as I’m excited for the sunshine ahead, I’m determined to appreciate the season that I’m in. This past Monday brought with it a slate of school closings, a massive dump of snow and sporadic white out conditions. After considerable debate about whether we should go out for our lunchtime stroll, Mackenzie and I forged out to enjoy a surprisingly pleasant walk through the winter storm. From the inside it looked foreboding, but once outside we were able to appreciate the beauty of fresh snow, enjoying the squeals of laughter rising from children playing gleefully in a snowbank as we passed.

I feel the bite of winter air as I step out each morning and am reminded of the gift it is to wake up and commute to work on foot.

Don’t get me wrong – I’ll take blue skies over grey and a surplus of sunshine over shovelling snow any day of the week. But I’ll continue to practice presence and find gratitude on even the coldest of days.

Regardless of whether the groundhog sees its shadow or not, I hope you will join me in practicing the art of being present, and find some little ways to be grateful for the season that we are in.

I don’t believe that chunky rodent is clairvoyant anyway.

Even in the greyest of winters, we can find windows of warmth and light.

I hope that now you have dug yourselves out from under, you too are able to pause and catch glimpses of the unexpected beauty that surrounds us.

Warmly,

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

Magic Lamp

Magic Lamp

 

A few years ago I purchased a magic lamp for our Christmas table.

I loved it so much that I began bringing it out at the beginning of the month and illuminating the kitchen each night as we gathered for a meal.

It also proves to be handy for power outages, bringing a sense of wonder to what otherwise could be a cold evening.

My colleague Deb Eaton was so moved by it’s magical glow, swirling snow and vibrant red cardinals that she too had to have one. She shares that on cold days it makes her feel warm inside, bringing back memories of yesteryear. Deb bought a second one for her mother, as I did last year for my father.

I should really think about buying shares in the company given that such a simple item can bring such immense joy.

It’s a true gift to find joy in small packages and unexpected places. Do you have any items that do the same for you?

Warm thoughts,

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

Purging spaces and making room for what matters most

Purging spaces and making room for what matters most

It’s January, a perfect time for new beginnings.

In a world brimming with constant activity and incessant stimuli, our living spaces often mirror the chaos we might experience in daily life. Clutter accumulates, objects pile up, and our surroundings can become overwhelming.

The act of purging goes beyond mere decluttering; it’s a transformative process that transcends the physical realm. It involves sifting through belongings, evaluating their significance, and intentionally parting ways with items that no longer serve a purpose or bring genuine joy.

Like the Tasmanian Devil, I am whirling around our home donating or chucking out items that no longer serve us. My goal is to rid our home of one bag per day. Joe is not quite sure what is going on. To be fair, I may not have given him the heads up, but by osmosis he can’t help but jump on the decluttering train.

Instead of winter darkness, I’m fuelled by internal light. One small piece at a time, one day at a time, I vow to emerge from my clutter, making room for what matters most.

Warm thoughts,

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