Walking with coyotes

Walking with coyotes

Walking with coyotes

This week, I’m in Debert offering a five-day Veteran’s program. Each morning in the six am darkness, I lace up my boots, sling on my backpack, and head out for a practice hike. One local warned me to watch for coyotes. I laughed it off until the next morning, when the beam of my headlamp caught the fleeting form of a coyote skirting around the side of a building.

For a moment, I wondered if I should stop walking in the mornings. The thought came quickly, followed by another: how often does fear of the unknown stop us from moving forward?

It’s easy to let fear grow large in our imagination. Perhaps there are more coyotes out there. Perhaps they’re waiting just beyond the edge of the light. But courage isn’t the absence of fear, it’s moving forward, even when we feel it. So, I adjusted my pack, imagined an offensive stance, and kept going.

No encounters today. Truth be told, the coyote I saw yesterday looked more afraid of me than I was of it.

Tackling trauma can be a lot like meeting coyotes on a dark road. Our fears, real or imagined, can keep us locked away, isolated and alone. But when we walk together, shining light on what scares us, we find safety in connection and strength in numbers. Sometimes, just stepping forward is enough to remind us: we’re not alone in the dark.

 

Warmly,

 

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

From Mountain Tops to Coffee Shops

From Mountain Tops to Coffee Shops

From Mountain Tops to Coffee Shops

As I continue my trek out west, I’ve been intentionally carving out time for reflection and relaxation. There’s something deeply restorative about hiking through mountain trails, enjoying magnificent views with nothing connecting me to time except the amount of sunlight left in the day.  It is these moments that allow my thoughts to settle and drift.

Between hikes, I find myself drawn to local coffee shops. Each one tells a story about the community it serves. There’s an authenticity in these spaces; a warmth that comes not just from the coffee, but from the people gathered around it. I’ve come to believe that nothing captures the heart of a place quite like its café culture.

This photo was taken at Deadwood Junction in Greenwood, B.C., a former gold mining town that still looks as though it has one foot in the past.  In a nearby community, Rock Creek, I discovered  Rags, Relics and Rutabagas, a curio shop that perfectly embodies the town’s spirit: quirky, creative, and full of character.

Moments like these remind me of the importance of slowing down, stepping away from the busyness of life, and creating space for calm and wonder. Whether it’s a quiet trail, a cozy corner in your favourite café, or simply a few minutes spent in stillness, these small acts of self-care help us reconnect with ourselves.

Where do you go to find your calm? What practices help you reset and restore your balance?

Wishing you these precious moments.

 

Warmly,

 

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

Meeting a Man on the Mountain

Meeting a Man on the Mountain

Meeting a Man on the Mountain

Late last night, I landed in British Columbia for a long-anticipated hiking trip. The air felt different the moment I stepped off the plane: crisp, pine-scented, carrying the promise of mountain trails and open skies. Early this morning, Joe and I laced up our boots and set out to explore the foothills of Kelowna. The trail wound through a patchwork of gold and green, with the first light of day brushing the hillsides in soft amber hues.

Halfway through the climb, we crossed paths with a man who paused just long enough to exchange a few words that lingered long after he continued on his way. He told us that each morning, without fail, he completes a 10-kilometre loop through these very hills. His voice carried the warmth of experience; the kind of calm that comes from knowing exactly what matters most.

The mountains, he explained, remind him of his home country, Zimbabwe. His daily ritual of hiking connects him not only to nature, but also to his faith, and to the priorities that give his life meaning. Now 63 and in semi-retirement, he’s come to understand that the best investment he can possibly make is in his own health.

That simple truth stayed with me. In a world that constantly demands our time and energy, it’s easy to forget that the most valuable return on investment comes not from wealth, possessions, or accolades, but from the strength and vitality that allow us to do the things we love.

There’s something profoundly grounding about meeting a person who has distilled life’s lessons into simple, intentional practice. His daily hike isn’t just exercise; it’s a form of gratitude, a moving meditation, a declaration of commitment to living fully.

As we continued our ascent, I thought about how easy it is to delay joy; to tell ourselves we’ll take better care of our bodies or make more time for what we love someday. But perhaps the lesson from the mountain is this: someday begins with the next step we take.

So, here’s my invitation to you: do more of what brings you life. Invest in your health not as an afterthought, but as a priority. Find your own mountain, whether it’s a hiking trail, a creative pursuit, or a quiet moment of stillness at the start of your day.

At Landing Strong, we’re getting ready to launch our upcoming Virtual Hiking Program, designed to help you take those first steps, literally and figuratively, toward investing in your wellbeing. Now is the perfect time to make sure you have comfortable walking shoes or boots, and to set the intention that your health matters. We’ll be circulating more information soon but remember: the biggest part of preparation lies in the decision that you are worth the effort.

Here’s to meeting your own mountain and discovering who you might become when you reach the summit.

 

Warmly,

 

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

A Thanksgiving Message from Landing Strong

A Thanksgiving Message from Landing Strong

A Thanksgiving Message from Landing Strong

As the leaves turn brilliant shades of red and gold, we’re reminded of the beauty that surrounds us here in Nova Scotia: the rugged coastlines, abundant forests, and quiet fields touched by autumn light. This year’s colours seem especially vibrant, a reminder of the richness that exists even in times of challenge.

As we gather in gratitude, our hearts are also with those who are struggling — families displaced by wildfires, and neighbours looking skyward, hoping for the rain that will refill their wells and ease their worries.

We are especially thankful for our firefighters and first responders, working tirelessly to keep people safe and fires at bay.

May this season bring a sense of connection, compassion, and renewed hope. From all of us at Landing Strong, we wish you a peaceful and restorative Thanksgiving.

 

Warmly,

 

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

The Healing Power of Music and Connection

The Healing Power of Music and Connection

Pictured: Nevin Coulstring, Landing Strong friend and community member

The Healing Power of Music and Connection

There are moments when words aren’t enough to capture the depth of human experience. In those moments, music often steps in, bridging the gap between what we feel and what we can express. It has a way of reaching into the hidden places of the heart, offering both comfort and connection.

This is something our friend and community member, Nevin Coulstring, understands deeply. Nevin recently composed an original piece of music, playing every instrument himself.

“The music tells the story of the soldier, police, paramedic, firefighter and the trauma they’ve experienced,” he explained. Nevin wanted his music to carry not just the weight of struggle, but also the strength of resilience. As he put it: “The ending is finding the help, to stand strong on your own once more.”

What makes this gift even more powerful is the context. Nevin is currently facing a terminal illness. Yet, rather than turning inward, he chose to reach outward, to share something meaningful with others who may be walking their own difficult journeys. It is a testament to his courage, generosity, and the profound belief that healing happens not in isolation, but through connection.

At Landing Strong, we often talk about the importance of community. Nevin’s music is a beautiful example of how connection can take many forms. Sometimes it’s a conversation, sometimes it’s a shared silence, and sometimes it’s a song that reminds us that we’re not alone. In offering his music, Nevin has created more than just a composition; he’s created a lasting honour, a message of hope, and a bridge of empathy for those who may be struggling.

Thank you, Nevin, for your service, for your kindness, and for reminding us of the power of music to bring people together. Your legacy of connection and resilience will continue to inspire.

We welcome you to listen to Nevin’s piece by visiting our YouTube page here

For community members and friends of Nevin, he is welcoming visitors.  To arrange a visit with Nevin, kindly contact his wife Donna: nevin117@msn.com

 

Warmly,

 

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