I recently had a dream that I could fly.

It’s a dream I’ve had many times – often enough that, in those first few moments after waking, part of me still believes I possess this innate ability. Flying in these dreams doesn’t require wings or any great effort. I simply take a few deep breaths, let go of whatever weight might be encumbering me, and suddenly gravity loosens its hold. I can leap and bound through the air, covering great distances with an incredible sense of freedom and joy.

In this particular dream, I was still working in the penitentiary system. I was practicing my breathing, releasing the weight I was carrying, and happily leaping across the prison yard when a thought suddenly occurred to me: perhaps this wasn’t an entirely appropriate skill to be demonstrating here.

After all, if I taught everyone in the prison how to fly, it could create a rather significant security concern.

But what struck me was what happened next. Rather than deciding I needed to stop flying, I realized that perhaps I simply no longer belonged in an environment where flying was a problem.

There was something wonderfully simple, and surprisingly wise, in that realization.

At Landing Strong, we want to help people make space for flight; not necessarily by leaving behind the lives, work, or responsibilities that matter to us, but by creating room to reconnect with who we are, release some of what weighs us down, and explore who we are becoming.

This fall, there are several new opportunities to do just that. Enrollment is now open for our Identity and Transition course, an opportunity to reflect on who you are beyond the roles and experiences that have shaped you and consider what you want the next chapter to hold.

We are also excited to launch Emerge, a weekly 1.5-hour group for Landing Strong community members affected by substance use or other addictive patterns. Emerge offers a welcoming space for honest conversation, shared learning, practical support, and connection – recognizing that recovery is personal and that not every journey is measured by strict abstinence.

And we are launching the Landing Strong Women’s Wellness Circle, a monthly full-day gathering (9:00 a.m.–3:00 p.m.) for women, female-identifying and non-binary community members. It will be a day to slow down, connect with others, reconnect with yourself and your body, and explore topics that matter to women throughout recovery and life’s many transitions.

Perhaps this is a good time to ask yourself: What would help me make a little more space for flight?

If one of these programs feels like that space for you, we would love to have you join us. Sometimes the next chapter begins simply by taking a breath, putting down a little of what we’ve been carrying, and discovering just how much room there is to rise. For more information, reach Julie at jwells@landingstrong.com or 902-472-2972.
 

Warmly,

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

There’s a ritual that follows every summer walk in Nova Scotia. The dogs get inspected first. Then it’s my turn. If Joe is home, he helps. A romantic summer ritual if ever there was one.

I’ll be honest – nobody enjoys the tick check. There’s something unsettling about searching for a thing you hope isn’t there. It would be easier not to look. But not looking is the only truly dangerous option. A tick found tonight is nothing. A tick unnoticed for weeks is a different story.

Life is full of things we’d rather not look at.

For those who have served, in uniform, on the front lines, in emergency rooms, operational stress injuries come with the territory the same way ticks come with the woods. Not everyone picks one up, but everyone who does the work is exposed. That’s not weakness. It’s the nature of the terrain.

And nobody stops going into the woods because of ticks. The work you’ve done, and the reasons you signed up, were worth it. An injury along the way doesn’t mean the journey was a mistake.

The answer was never to stay home. The answer is to check, regularly, honestly, without shame. And some spots we simply can’t see on our own. Sometimes it takes another set of eyes, someone who’s willing to help, to notice what we can’t.

So enjoy the trails this summer. Just remember: it’s only the things we’re afraid to look at that have the potential to become problems.

At Landing Strong, nobody checks alone. Reach Julie at jwells@landingstrong.com or 902-472-2972.

Warmly,

There are few things more satisfying than creating a delicious summer meal from fresh produce picked up at the local farmers market – or better yet, from your own garden. This time of year, the colours are richer, the smells are sweeter, and the food literally bursts with flavour.

I enjoy preparing these meals thoughtfully. But the real magic happens afterwards: savouring them slowly, enjoying one another’s company over good conversation out on the patio. Perhaps a game of Scrabble, if I can convince anyone to join me. My family has developed a remarkable talent for disappearing the moment the board comes out.

My favourite part about these meals? Nobody is in a rush to go anywhere.

We spend so much of our lives moving quickly. Eating on the go, rushing between commitments, checking the clock. Somewhere along the way, meals became something to get through rather than something to enjoy. But summer offers us a gentle invitation to slow down. The evenings are long. The tomatoes are ripe. The conversation can wander wherever it likes.

There’s healing in this kind of slowness. When we take time to truly taste our food, to linger at the table, to laugh with the people beside us, we’re practicing something important: being present. Not planning, not worrying, not bracing for what’s next. Just here, now, with a plate of something delicious.

Perhaps the best summer moments are a little like those garden tomatoes. Slow to ripen. Impossible to rush. But maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what makes them sweet.

So here’s my invitation to you this week: prepare one meal slowly. Share it with someone if you can. Then sit back, and savour.

And if you’re looking for more good company, our community would love to have you. Just drop Julie a line or give her a call – jwells@landingstrong.com, 902-472-2972. 

Warmly,

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

During a recent Community Connections scavenger hunt, I stumbled across an old apple tree on the Haliburton Estates. It immediately caught my attention. Its trunk was twisted and gnarled, its branches weathered by countless seasons. Time had left its mark. It may no longer produce the crisp apples it once did, but standing there, I couldn’t help but think it was absolutely beautiful.

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

I’ll let you in on a secret: I never nap. But this weekend, I snuck two in. I felt a bit guilty given how glorious it was outside (though I’d say the heat wave earns me a pass). So I gave myself permission to do exactly what I pleased. And my naps pleased me.

There can be a pressure that arrives with summer. The long days seem to whisper that we should be filling every hour with all the gifts the warm weather has to offer: barbecues, beach days, weekends at the cottage. Expectations can build up quickly.

But just because something is good, doesn’t mean more is better. Summer offers many gifts, but who says they have to be opened all at once? Participating in small ways – a short walk in nature, a phone call to a friend, a shared meal – can be meaningful. Ten minutes on the porch counts. So does a nap.

The sun takes its time setting in July. Maybe we’re allowed to take our time too.

If you’d like company at your own pace, our community would love to welcome you. Just drop Julie a line or give her a call – jwells@landingstrong.com, 902-472-2972.