This week, I’m on the South Shore running an intensive Veterans Retreat. It’s a chance to disconnect from everything, and spend uninterrupted time devoted to assisting injured veterans and first responders recover from trauma exposure.
We sit in a close knit circle, and start each morning by asking participants how they slept, and whether they had any new insights following the work we did on the previous day. Most importantly, we ask them if they had any dreams. Whether they’re good or bad, I’ve come to appreciate the value of dreams in trauma recovery.
No one likes having nightmares. As children, we’re taught to try to not think about them, distracting ourselves from the images that most disturb us.
The problem with trying to suppress thoughts is that it keeps them bubbling to the surface while we sleep. Let’s call it our nocturnal internal guidance system.
The brain knows what it wants to process. Whether we like it or not, bad dreams are our mind’s way of letting us know that we have unprocessed memories or emotions that need unloading.
So, I bet you know what I’m going to say next…the only way to stop the bad dreams is to work through the underlying cause.
It’s only by shining a light on our darkest places that we are able to remove the threat… see what needs to be seen so that we can move forward.
Strange as it seems, dreams (good or bad) are our friends. They serve as our inner compass, pointing us in the direction of where we need to look.
So instead of shying away from bad dreams, consider leaning forward, taking a closer look at what your subconscious is trying to tell you. It’ll generally point you in the direction of health.
Warm regards,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
There’s a Lakota expression that says “Healing takes place in the spaces between people”.
Each time we tell our story, it changes. An evolving narrative that morphs depending on who we tell it to and how we’re received. It is easy to get stuck, repeating the same tale internally in a repeated manner. Through sharing, we open the window to new ways of viewing ourselves, and differing interpretations of the past.
It’s not what happened to us that causes trauma, but rather the meaning of the experience that determines its impact.
We may have experienced a trauma alone, but in the retelling be supported, diminishing our sense of isolation.
We may judge ourselves negatively from the perspective of our youth, but through our adult lens, find the wisdom of compassion.
We may only be able to see something from one perspective, but with the compassion of peers open our eyes to other possibilities.
In this technological society that we live in, it’s easy to feel lonely despite a multitude of internet connections. I invite you to take the time to share even a small bit of your story in real time with someone you trust. Notice what small shifts might occur when you no longer carry the experience alone.
Warm regards,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
It’s a time of year to remember. His story. Her story. Their story. We remember those who have made the ultimate sacrifice, as well as those who bear the scars of injury, either physical or internal. Every battle has a cost. On this day, we join together to pay particular attention to the lessons learned, honouring those who have fallen.
When military members come home from deployment, it is an incredibly important time for them to be supported. Romeo Dallaire has very eloquently articulated the challenge of returning from Rwanda. Following Vietnam, thousands of American soldiers returned home to a nation rocked by politics. Seeking support, many were met with criticism and judgement. Wounded by atrocities overseas, these men and women are doubly injured if they fail to receive the support they need at home. Remembrance Day is a time when we set politics aside in order to extend our gratitude to those who have served.
One of the toughest facts is that it isn’t just on the battlefield where lives are lost. In the US, twenty veterans take their lives each day. In Canada, more Afghanistan veterans have lost their lives to suicide than on the battlefield. Even those who serve at home are at risk with more than half of all military deaths taking place during training exercises. War is complicated and dangerous. Preparing for it, supporting it, and coming home even more so.
Let us remember that although the deployments or service may be over, for many the battle rages on.
We stand behind them and with them, not just on this day, but every day.
Warm regards,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
They say courage is born on the battlefield. That may be true, but I think just as often it arises in the aftermath, when we work to face our emotions. Anyone in a service profession knows about putting a “game face” on. You know it, showing no fear even when you are about to walk into a situation that is dangerous, frightening or threatening. Joe Frazier knew it when walked into the ring to face Muhammad Ali, arguably one of the greatest boxers of all time. Ali had a total of 56 professional wins, 37 of them by knockout. So when Frazier walked in the ring, he likely knew that he had a 50% chance of being knocked unconscious. Yet he did it anyway.
Shoving our emotions aside in times of distress is important and often necessary. It allows us to remain functional. The challenge is knowing when and how to take our game face off, and look deeper to discover what it is that we are actually feeling.
In treatment groups I’ve had Special Forces Members, Police, RCMP, Firefighters, Paramedics, EOD Techs, Corrections Officers and Trauma Counsellors say the same thing. Coming to treatment was one of the hardest, but most important things they have ever done.
So perhaps courage does take many forms. The obvious ones, and the more invisible form as we all come together to regroup, recalibrating our central nervous systems, and reclaiming important aspects of self that may have been lost along the way.
In my mind, that is indeed the face of courage.
Warm regards,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
Okay, so maybe I was not perfect this week. Pretty good at work, but a bit on the grouchy side with my husband [sorry Joe]. I think something I was worried about spilled over into the home front. We talked it out, and all is good now. I’m reminded of the importance of repair. If I’ve done something thoughtless, it’s easier to allow time and distance to heal rather than having those difficult conversations. But in the spirit of Karmic correctness, it’s always better to face up to those times when we have faltered.
I heard the expression “I’m fixing my Karma” the other day, and loved it because it makes the assumption we are all works in progress. Walking, running, stumbling, and then getting back up again, dusting off, and trying to find our stride. I want to work not just on forgiveness for others, but also forgiveness for myself.
Each day, we all do our best. Perhaps that’s more than enough.
Warm regards,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
