As is the case with any vacation, my goal is to relax and recharge, allowing me to give my full attention and energy to the things I care about once I return home.
How do I do this?
For the next seven days, I’ll be back-country canoe tripping through Killarney Provincial Park, one of Ontario’s most pristine and spectacular wilderness preserves. It’s inevitable that at times I‘ll be uncomfortable: fending off bugs, carrying heavy backpacks over long portages, or sleeping on bumpy ground. Joe, Kyle and Mackenzie are psyched about eating porridge every morning…me not so much so.
I know from past experience though, that it’ll be well worth it. I can relax by doing less, or challenge myself by doing more. Generally speaking, the most important aspects of self-care that I practice involve expending energy. It may involve camping, doing art, reading, writing or walking in nature. Some part of me is generally in motion. Sometimes I do it well, sometimes not.
We often think of relaxation as being a passive activity: slowing down, watching Netflix, and giving ourselves permission to do less. Sometimes this is true, but if it becomes a pattern, it’s no longer relaxation. It becomes a pattern of existing.
So this week I’ll expend some energy to get out of my head, and into nature and connection with people I love.
I know some of you are off doing the same – playing music, camping, fishing and surfing.
If your old interests aren’t serving as a source of inspiration anymore, it might be time to try something new. As we change, so do our needs. That’s why we’re introducing “Community Connection” days into our programming at Landing Strong. Open to anyone who is on the path of recovery and has participated in one of our workshops, these days will offer a chance to get together in a fun and restorative way. We’ll start advertising them in the next few weeks.
If you haven’t participated in any of our programs yet, consider signing up for one this fall. We are always welcoming new community members.
Warmly,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Founder, Landing Strong
Every military member and first responder signs up knowing their job involves risk. You may not know exactly what the risks are, but have a general sense that things could get very ugly. Why do we do it? Why expose ourselves to harmful things when we know that there’s a significant chance of personal injury?
Why support a family member who may be taking these risks?
Why would someone willingly enter a burning building, respond to a fatal motor vehicle accident, take on the responsibility of making life-or-death decisions, or be in the role of caring for those who have injured others?
We do it because deep down, we believe we can make a difference.
Whether it’s through direct exposure in the field, or more indirectly through the viewing of images and videos, there’s no doubt that repeated trauma exposure takes a toll.
Through witnessing one another’s experiences, we’re able to appreciate the difference each person made. We’re a community that walks with you to understand your injury and help you reclaim parts of your life that may have been lost.
Come walk with us this Fall, we’re running group programs that are well-suited for both new and returning members of our team. We’ll be sharing details on our social media pages this week so be sure to check us out on Facebook or our website.
With gratitude,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Founder, Landing Strong
Most new start-ups fail within the first three years. Trying something new is hard, and keeping it going can be even harder. Whether it’s an exercise program, a change of eating habits, or setting the goal of launching a world class treatment centre, holding true to a vision of where you want to be is never easy.
Starting up Landing Strong is something I’ve dreamt of for years, but couldn’t quite find the courage to do. The risks were great, but the community’s needs were even greater. Surrounded by a team of incredibly committed professionals, we launched Landing Strong. We didn’t know when we opened the doors whether anyone would come. Thanks to you, our programs and hearts are full, particularly this week after receiving word that we are being awarded funding from the Veteran Family and Well-Being Fund. Veterans Affairs Canada is solidly in our corner, helping to make this dream a reality. A special thanks to the Mental Health Foundation of Nova Scotia for helping us secure this funding.
We’ll continue to submit funding proposals so that we may offer barrier free access to care.
For this moment, we’re pausing to celebrate the assurance that we’ll not just survive, but thrive in the critical first few years of operation.
With gratitude,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Founder, Landing Strong
One of the challenges of PTSD and depression is that tasks can feel overwhelming. A simple chore, such as mowing the lawn, can feel much larger than it actually is. Perhaps when you’re mowing, you notice that the flowerbeds need weeding, or the lawn furniture is in need of repair. And while you’re at it, you notice the back side of the house needs painting. And you may kick yourself silently for not doing it last year, when you first noticed it was peeling. Suddenly, mowing the lawn becomes a list of everything you haven’t done right in your life over the last six months.
A wise first responder shared an insight recently,
“It’s okay to mow just one line, if that’s all you’re up to. Doing a little bit is better than nothing.”
He spoke of the importance of simply starting, without being paralyzed by the need to finish everything completely.
We’ve taken this to heart, and have been applying this principle across different aspects of our lives. Perhaps, I only have the energy to clean half my kitchen. That’s okay.
Today, I decided to text a friend because I didn’t feel up to a phone call.
Small steps toward a larger goal get us there a lot faster than trying to do too much, too quickly.
Warm regards,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Founder, Landing Strong
It doesn’t matter what others think. If it’s real for you then it’s important.
People often apologize for being injured.
“I shouldn’t be this way, I was never deployed.”
“I shouldn’t be struggling, I only went to Afghanistan once and my buddy over there is fine and he was there twice”
“I shouldn’t be taking up a seat in this group, there must be others who need it more than me.”
In fact, I’m not sure I have ever run a group where a large proportion of the members don’t somehow feel that they didn’t earn the right to be there.
I remember a day in my private practice when I saw an army intelligence officer who was struggling. During a tour overseas he was required to witness countless satellite images that haunted him. After returning home, he walked with shoulders slumped, burdened by his experiences. Working together, we tried to lighten his load.
Sitting patiently in the waiting room, waiting for her appointment, sat an anxious petite 10-year-old blonde girl. Her forehead was creased with worry wrinkles, her nails bitten to the quick. Her hand wringing as she anticipated speaking of the things which were most upsetting to her.
Did both have an equal right to treatment? I believe so. Certainly their experiences are very different. In my mind, it isn’t about measuring the degree of pain one has experienced. Rather, it’s about noticing the impact those experiences have on our ability to navigate our way through life. Whether we have been hit by missiles or paralyzed with anxiety, the pain is real.
It’s not our place to judge whether or not you should feel a certain way. If it’s real for you, that’s all that matters.
Warm regards,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Founder, Landing Strong
