I’m happy to report that my dog Finn is no longer scared of me. But that’s not to say Joe isn’t still his main man. Anywhere Joe goes, Finn goes…even for an early morning shower. Like clockwork, Finn lines up at the door waiting for Joe to open it so he can run in and have his shower first. As easily as that, habits are formed. I may end up with the cleanest dog in the world.

As we move into May, it might be a good time to pause and reflect on the patterns we’ve created. Which habits are nourishing your health and well-being? Which habits might be quietly working against you?

In our Healthy Living program, we’ll be taking a closer look at this, but you don’t need to be part of a program to start paying attention. Sometimes it’s about small, gentle tweaks: drinking a little more water, incorporating a bit more movement, or even stillness, into a busy day.

Like Finn and his shower routine, habits don’t need to be complicated to stick. The key is consistency and awareness.

So maybe this month is your invitation to step back, take stock, and decide what’s worth keeping…and what might be ready for a shift.

Warmly,

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

Last weekend, I wandered through the Wolfville Farmers Market with a simple mission: to find something delicious. It was well past lunchtime, and I was ready for something satisfying; earned after a busy week.

So, you can imagine my surprise when I spotted a sign advertising a chicken gyro wrap: free-range chicken, tzatziki… and a side of Tom Cruise.

I paused. Blinked. Read it again.

Now, I had questions. Was this clever marketing? A joke? Or had I stumbled upon the most creative culinary experience in Nova Scotia? I found myself smiling, already delighted, not by the food, but by the imagination behind it. Whoever created this sign, I thought, must have a wonderfully playful inner world.

Curiosity won. I stepped forward and asked.

The answer? “Not Tom Cruise”, the booth owner explained, “just tomatoes and cucumbers”.

I laughed, out loud, the kind that catches you off guard and comes out louder than expected.

And just like that, a small, ordinary moment became something more.

This is what happens when we’re open to glimmers. According to Deb Dana, they’re micro-moments of joy, safety, or connection. They don’t demand attention; they invite it.

I didn’t leave with a celebrity on the side of my wrap. But I did leave with something better: a lightness, a laugh, and a reminder that sometimes joy shows up when we’re simply willing to notice it.

Warmly,

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

Since returning from Tanzania, I’ve had to admit something my mind was slower to accept than my body: I’m a little… stiff. In the spirit of being proactive (and perhaps a touch optimistic), I signed up for a couple of Yin and Restorative Yoga classes each week. Gentle, grounding, good for the nervous system. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, this week, somewhere between surrender and stillness, my knee had other ideas.

What followed were a few humbling days of hobbling; when walking felt less like a given and more like a negotiation. There is, it turns out, no glory in injuring oneself during restorative yoga. No dramatic story, no hard-earned badge. If anything, the only thing truly bruised was my pride.

Terry Biles, a veteran and therapist here at Landing Strong, offered a reframe:

“Just tell people it happened during combat yoga,” he grinned.

I appreciated the spirit of his suggestion; it had a certain edge that my reality lacked.

But beneath the humour was something worth paying attention to. This small misstep (quite literally) has been a quiet reminder of the importance of meeting our bodies where they are, not where they once were.

Muscle memory can be misleading; so can identity. We remember what we used to do with ease and assume it’s still ours to claim.

The truth is, we are not getting younger. Perhaps that’s not the loss we sometimes make it out to be. There is wisdom in recalibrating, in trading intensity for attunement, in choosing compassion over correction.

Perhaps the goal is not to return to who we were, but to care well for who we are now, striving for optimal wellbeing, given this body, this moment, this season.

Even if it comes with a slight limp.

Warmly,

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

This week, we welcomed a new puppy into our home. His name is Finn, a small, bright-eyed American Eskie with a personality that, at least in flashes, shines as brightly as his coat. Thankfully, he is adorable, because the transition has not been as smooth as I had imagined. 

Finn loves Joe. He greets him at the door with enthusiasm: licks, a wagging tail, unfiltered joy. When I arrive home, however, I’m met with something entirely different: a small body tucked into the cupboard, a low growl, uncertainty wrapped in fear. It’s not just me. He seems wary of everyone but Joe. 

Change is hard, especially when you are only 17 weeks old. 

But perhaps Finn is not alone in this struggle. PTSD, after all, is an injury of attachment. It disrupts our sense of trust, safety, power, and control. The instinct, so often, is to retreat; to find a cupboard of our own and stay there. Hidden. Guarded. Protected. 

And yet, healing asks something different of us.It asks us to step forward, even when it feels impossible. 

At Landing Strong, I have the privilege of witnessing this courage every day. Men and women showing up, leaning into connection, finding moments of laughter and meaning again. This is the work: messy, brave, and deeply human. 

I find myself hoping that little Finn, in his own time, might discover what I see so often in others: that safety can be rebuilt, that trust can grow, and that stepping out of the cupboard is where healing begins

Warmly,

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

Good Friday arrives each year as a quiet pause point. The long weekend brings with it time to consider new possibilities and opportunities as the earth slowly comes back to life.

Whether Easter weekend holds spiritual meaning for you, family traditions, time outdoors, or simply provides a chance to rest, there’s something about this time of year that naturally invites reflection.

After a long winter, the shift into spring feels even more noticeable with longer evenings, softer morning light, and signs of growth returning around us.

At Landing Strong, we often talk about change as something steady and possible. Renewal doesn’t have to be big. Sometimes it’s just noticing what feels ready for a fresh start. A new routine. A conversation you’ve been meaning to have. Time outside. Time to reset.

Good Friday can be one of those gentle moments to check in with yourself and ask: What might I want more of from this season in front of me?

Spring reminds us that forward movement happens in small ways.

Wherever this long weekend finds you, I hope there’s space for rest, connection, and a little renewal of your own

Warmly,

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