Have I told you recently how proud I am to live in Nova Scotia? It’s sentiment I know many of us share: everywhere we look, there are flags and signs celebrating the strength and loyalty of Nova Scotians.
I’d like to add another word to our vocabulary when describing Nova Scotians: Thoughtful.
Last night I was in IKEA. I wanted to pick up a large shelf unit and had parked my cart on the warehouse floor, wondering how the heck I was going to get the heavy unit onto my cart. It really was a two person job. A young couple walked towards me, interested in the same unit.
“Wait a minute,” the young man calls to me, “You’ve got the wrong kind of cart, I’m going to grab you a flat one.”
Before I knew it he had dashed to the end of the aisle and grabbed me something more suitable. Together we easily got it loaded. The next step was loading this monstrosity into my car. I parked my shopping cart by the trunk, and was walking around to unlock the door when an older couple walked by.
“Don’t try lifting that on your own,” the man called out. “Let me give you a hand. No sense you strainin’ yer’ back.”
I hadn’t even had a moment to ask anyone for help and here this fellow was, making sure things went smoothly. This is the kindness of small towns and close communities. I drove away with a warm heart and appreciation for the thoughtfulness strangers. There may be a lot of challenging things going on in the world these days, but I, for one, am happy to be living in the Atlantic Bubble, and super proud to be in Nova Scotia.
Warm regards,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
Have you seen this show on Amazon Prime? I love it. Teams of four participating in one of the hardest races imaginable, spread out over nine days in untamed jungle, rivers and oceans of Fiji.
Several teams representing various countries come to compete, the motivation to endure such extreme hardship coming from deep within. I am consistently impressed by the grit it requires to take on such a challenge. What amazed me most was who successfully completed the race, and who didn’t.
Spoiler alert: Those who did the best weren’t necessarily the strongest or fittest.
What is the ingredient for success you might ask?
Yes, fitness was important. So was motivation. Most importantly, though was the team’s ability to work together, voicing their needs to one another, communicating clearly if they were faltering, and not hesitating to ask for help when necessary.
The teams that were unable to finish the race didn’t seem any less committed, or athletic as the teams that completed the challenge. Some teams faltered because these folks were amazing at pushing through when they were injured, ignoring the messages their bodies were giving them to slow down and care for themselves. Ultimately, it was their undoing. Teams that knew how to stop, pause when necessary, and share their concerns were more likely to succeed in the long run.
I can’t help but reflect on how PTSD is an injury of isolation. It can be incredibly difficult to let others know what is going on, or what you may need. One of the reasons it can be hard to cross the finish line is that so many try to do it alone.
Running alone you may go faster, but running in a group you go further. The world’s toughest race was evidence of that.
Warm regards,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
Have you ever pulled your car up to a stoplight and glanced over at the driver in the car beside you. Magically, somehow they know you’re looking at them. They stare right back.
Just by looking at someone, you change your relationship with them.
By looking at something, you change the nature of its existence.
Wayne Dyer reinforced this notion when he wrote: When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.
When we look at things repeatedly through the same lens, our thoughts and feelings about them don’t tend to change. By looking at our experiences through the eyes of others, we are offered the gift of being able to see them differently. Our world expands.
We can’t change what happened to us. We can change the way we view it. There’s incredible power in that.
Warm regards,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
The chocolate chip cookie. What a perfect creation. Whether it was first made by accident, or a flash of brilliance and loose hand with chocolate, this mouth-watering creation has remained a classic for many years.
This year, Mackenzie made it a goal to perfect her chocolate chip cookie recipe. We’ve been fortunate enough to sample her different attempts, each week learning more about the chemistry and subtleties of baking. I never would have believed that the sprinkling of flaked salt on top of a baked cookie could have such a transformative effect. Or understand the caramelizing effect of butter versus margarine. Small changes can indeed, have profound effects on the overall creation.
It’s amazing how often in life we use the same ingredients in a recipe, somehow expecting the outcome to be different. In many ways, health is similar to a perfect cookie recipe. It takes a multitude of ingredients, with the quality of each element having a significant impact on the outcome. Recovery from injury isn’t just about individual therapy. It also involves group work, exercise, balanced nutrition, healthy lifestyle and meaningful, supportive connection with the people who are important to us. If we’re missing an ingredient, the result won’t be as good.
If your recovery is going slower that you might like, don’t assume you’re doing it wrong. Maybe you’re exactly on track, but just need to adjust an ingredient or two.
We still have a few spots left in our Mind/Body Health and Recovery group for Caregivers. This is intended for partners/adult children of those who are injured. We want to take care of you too.
For those Veterans and First Responders who have taken a course before, feel free to join our monthly Maintaining HealthProgram, starting this September.
It’s amazing how two people can hear the same thing but interpret it in entirely different ways.
Joe and I were at the cottage recently, and he shared a line from a country music song he’d heard recently that he found amusing. The song is by Ingrid Andress, entitled “Waste of Lime”.
“That’s disgusting!” I exclaimed.
“What, no it’s not, it’s funny” Joe protested.
“I don’t understand what’s funny about it” I respond, looking at my husband with a tight feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“Well, she’s singing about the fact that she and a fellow shared tequila, and at the end of the evening, he left her, leaving her feeling that it had all been “Just a waste of lime and a waste of time” Joe explained.
“Oh,” I respond, with a sigh of relief “I thought she was singing about the fact that someone had been killed.. but they weren’t even worth the lime that had been put over the body”
Joe and I started at each other.
How is it possible that something as simple as lyrics to a song could have such different meanings?
Joe immediately understood the lime reference related to drinking.
After years working at the federal penitentiary and reading through forensic files, the same ingredients had very different meanings for me.
Different experiences, and different lenses for interpreting the world.
It makes a huge difference doing work with people with shared experiences. They’ve been there. They get it. What may seem dark in one context, is just business as usual in the next.
Come to a place where you’ll be understood, whatever lens you’re viewing the world through. We’re offering a number of exciting fall programs. Sign up now in order to avoid disappointment. Seats are filling quickly.
