It’s Good to Be Home

It’s Good to Be Home

 

It’s Good to Be Home

There’s a kind of tired that follows meaningful work. It’s something that comes from deep within.   

The past three weeks in Tanzania were incredible: Holes were dug. Trees were planted. A classroom foundation was built; something lasting, built by many hands and a shared vision.

We summitted a mountain together, step by step, discovering that the climb asks as much of one’s spirit as it does of one’s body.

In between the work, there were moments that will never be forgotten: laughing around a campfire under a canopy of stars, sharing meals that stretched long into conversation, and finding connection in a shared purpose that carried us forward each day.

And now, we are home.

But returning takes time. Not just adjusting to a new time zone, but reacclimatizing to a different pace, a different rhythm of life. There’s a quiet dissonance in it. I’ve felt it myself, that sense of being just slightly outside, finding my way back in.

It brings to mind the transitions faced by military members and first responders after deployment, returning to what is meant to feel familiar, yet somehow isn’t, at least not right away.

We are all changed by our experiences. We come home carrying more than memories. We carry perspective. Gratitude. And a deeper understanding of what it means to rely on one another.

If you’re navigating a transition of your own, you’re not alone. And it’s not too late to step into something that helps you move forward, together.

 

Warmly,

 

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

Strength, Struggle and Sunrise on Kilimanjaro

Strength, Struggle and Sunrise on Kilimanjaro

 

Strength, Struggle and Sunrise on Kilimanjaro

The past week has been nothing short of tremendous. As a team, we pulled together in ways that only a shared challenge can reveal. Standing on the slopes of Kilimanjaro, we were rewarded with the kind of sunrises that stop you in your tracks. Vast skies, endless horizons, and that quiet, humbling reminder of how small, and yet how capable, we truly are.

Ronnie and Kell pushed through to successfully summit Stella Point, an extraordinary achievement that reflects grit and determination.

Jordan, just 500 meters shy, still experienced something remarkable; watching the sunrise from high above the world before altitude sickness forced a difficult but wise decision.

Each journey looked different, but each was powerful.

Now, sitting in a hotel lobby waiting for a bus to take us to the airport, it all feels a little surreal. Just days ago, we were climbing one of the toughest mountains on earth. And it makes me pause and ask: why do I keep choosing these challenges?

Because they change us.

Summiting a mountain is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. Yet it’s in that struggle that I find clarity; where I redefine who I am and what I’m capable of becoming.

This trip meant so much because it wasn’t just my transformation, I witnessed it in others.

I’ve never been prouder of our Landing Strong team. The training, the commitment, the courage. Every single person showed up and, in their own way, rewrote their story.

 

Warmly,

 

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

Leaning on One Another

Leaning on One Another

 

Leaning on One Another

Mount Kilimanjaro is teaching quickly. The air is thinning. The pace has slowed. Every step now requires intention. But no one is summiting alone, we do it together.

What is moving me most in this moment is not the altitude, but the unity.

Veterans and first responders are no strangers to adversity. They understand that strength is collective. I am watching teammates adjust their pace, offer steady encouragement, and quietly ensure no one falls behind.

This is resilience in real time. Not powering ahead. But staying connected.

The mountain is holding up a mirror for our life, leadership, and the healing within. We rise higher when we are willing to lean on one another.

There is no weakness in asking for support. There is wisdom in it. And perhaps that is the greatest lesson unfolding on this climb.

You do not need a mountain to challenge yourself or try something new. What summit do you want to climb? Who are you climbing with right now?

Community is not a luxury. It is how we rise.

We will reach the summit in three days, with a lifetime of experience behind us, and the view from the heavens directly in front of us.

 

Warmly,

 

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

Landing Strong: Finding our Rhythm

Landing Strong: Finding our Rhythm

 

Landing Strong: Finding our Rhythm

The past few days have been incredible. We’ve seen a wide array of animals with each game drive offering something new and unforgettable.

Two favorites from today: a pride of lions resting together, calm and powerful, and a troupe of baboon babies playing mischievously, tumbling over one another without a care. Strength and joy, side by side.

We’re adjusting to the slower, steady rhythm of African time. Nothing is rushed. There’s space to pause, to notice, to simply be.

The rains have changed the landscape. The dusty red soil I expected has been replaced by lush green earth, full of life and renewal.

Krista, you are missed. We know you had to step away last minute because of a medical emergency, but please know we carry you with us in every moment.

I am grateful to be here, and proud to be sharing it with both students and members of our Landing Strong community (who incidentally have been amazing).

Please know that we carry all members of the extended Landing Strong community with us in our hearts as we forge on this wonderful adventure together.

 

Warmly,

 

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

Uncertainty & Courage

Uncertainty & Courage

 

Uncertainty & Courage

Tomorrow, we embark on our mission to Tanzania, Africa.

The bags are packed. The training is done. And somewhere between excitement and uncertainty, there’s a quiet question: Am I ready?

Every meaningful journey begins this way.

As our team prepares to leave for Tanzania, I see it…anticipation, pride, and yes, trepidation. Challenge and change have a way of stirring old doubts. Mountains do that. So does stepping into unfamiliar communities with open hands and open hearts.

But courage is not the absence of uncertainty. It is choosing to move forward despite potential fears.

This trip is about answering an internal call; to connect, to serve, to build, and to climb.

The most transformative moments in life begin with the decision to challenge ourselves.

We are excited to share updates on our Facebook and Instagram Landing Strong pages. Please join us on this journey. (Find us on Facebook here and Instagram).

 

Warmly,

 

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

Looking Deeper: The Doorway to Recovery

Looking Deeper: The Doorway to Recovery

 

Looking Deeper: The Doorway to Recovery

Today, I sat across from a Veteran who is struggling.  Not because he lacks strength, but because he doesn’t yet have the level of support he needs to truly recover. 

In my work, assessments are often described in clinical terms: symptoms, timelines, diagnoses, treatment plans. But what I experienced today was something much more human. I had the privilege of hearing this Veteran’s life story.  And in doing so, I was able to understand the impact of his military experiences within the context of his larger life. Pieces that once seemed disconnected; reactions, patterns, emotions that felt confusing even to him, suddenly began to make sense. 

It is never helpful to compare the “size” of our injury to the people standing around us, as though pain can be measured by what is visible. The truth is, only we can truly know the meaning of what happened to us, because only we know our full story. 

And often, what seems to “not make sense” starts to make sense when we allow ourselves to look more closely, and deeply, with compassion instead of judgment. That process can be hard. It can feel exposing. It can stir grief, anger, and memories we’ve spent years trying to outrun. 

But it is also a doorway. 

When we begin to understand the “why” beneath our responses, we are no longer trapped in them. We become able to meet ourselves with clarity, and from that place, recovery becomes possible; not as a quick fix, but as a steady return to health, connection, and hope.

 

Warmly,

 

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

Closed Doors, Open Hearts

Closed Doors, Open Hearts

 

Closed Doors, Open Hearts

There are moments when the world feels too loud, too close. When the news carries activating stories, something inside us tightens. We want connection, desperately. And at the same time, we want distance. Safety. Control.

Recently, in our Community Connections program, a new member joined for the very first time. That alone took courage. She didn’t say much at first, but when it came time to create, she painted a door mat covered in hearts. Inside were the words: “go away.”

Instead of stepping back, we leaned in, smiling.

That mat said what so many people feel but struggle to articulate. The longing to be held, understood, and seen, paired with the fear that letting anyone too close could hurt, overwhelm, or undo us. Keeping people out feels safe. It’s familiar.

But safety, while protective, can also be isolating.

Letting people in is riskier. It asks us to sit with vulnerability, to trust that others can meet us with care rather than harm. It invites the possibility of healing.

That mat now sits as a quiet teacher. A reminder that ambivalence is not weakness. It’s honesty. And that showing up, even while wanting to push the world away, is an act of profound strength.

Connection doesn’t mean abandoning our boundaries. It means choosing, gently and on our own terms, to open a door just enough to let the light in.

 

Warmly,

 

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

Love, Service and New Beginnings

Love, Service and New Beginnings

 

Love, Service and New Beginnings

Some moments deserve more than a quick congratulation in the hallway. They deserve to be celebrated, out loud, together, as a community. 

This week at Landing Strong, we are honoured to share joyful news: two of our own, Terry Biles and Gillian Ring, were married. And what a privilege it is to witness love taking root so fully and so beautifully. 

As many of you know, Terry is a Veteran who served in Afghanistan. Like so many who have carried the weight of service, he has also carried the invisible impacts that can follow. Terry’s journey has not been simple, and it certainly hasn’t been linear; but it has been deeply human. He is a living, breathing example of what it means to keep showing up. To fight your way back into health. To rebuild a life that includes not only strength, but tenderness. Not only survival, but connection. 

At Landing Strong, we often speak about healing in terms of community, purpose, and belonging. Terry’s story reflects that truth. Despite the darkness he has faced, he has found his way back into family, community, and love…and now, into a new chapter alongside Gillian. 

Please join us in sending heartfelt congratulations and warm wishes to this beautiful couple. May their marriage be filled with laughter, resilience, partnership, and peace as they step forward into the next stage of their life journey together.

 

Warmly,

 

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

What the Duckies!

What the Duckies!

What the Duckies!

January has a way of settling in quietly. The days are shorter, and even the most resilient among us can feel the weight of the weather. Which is why, every now and then, a small act of unexpected joy feels nothing short of essential.

Just before heading off on maternity leave, our staff member Mackenzie Robinson was confronted with a most serious situation: an alarming and highly organized infestation of duckies in her office. They appeared, she reported, to be intelligent, strategically hidden in the cleverest of nooks and crannies. There appeared to be eight. And counting.

Her formal request for intervention landed in my inbox with the appropriate urgency:

“I have an urgent matter I must bring to your attention… Perhaps they will take over the entire Landing Strong office… Or worse.”

We may never know who the culprit was…staff member? Landing Strong community member? A rogue duckie syndicate? But what we do know is this: it made us laugh. Out loud.

There is something quietly powerful about random fun. It reminds us that joy doesn’t need to be earned, scheduled, or justified. Sometimes it simply shows up; small, absurd, and smiling back at us from behind a filing cabinet.

At Landing Strong, we do serious work. We hold heavy stories. And precisely because of that, moments like these matter. They bring light into dark months. They connect us.

So, here’s to the duckies, wherever they came from, wherever they may still be hiding. And here’s to embracing moments of unexpected joy, especially when winter feels long.

After all… what the duckies!

P.S. baby, mom and duckies are all doing well

 

Warmly,

 

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

Building Bridges, Not Trenches

Building Bridges, Not Trenches

Building Bridges, Not Trenches

There are moments when leadership sounds less like policy and more like wisdom. Prime Minister Mark Carney’s recent remarks at the World Economic Forum in Davos struck me that way. He spoke plainly and philosophically about the importance of recognizing what is happening in the world, accepting the reality before us, and choosing to strengthen ties with trusted allies rather than yielding to intimidation or division. It was a call to connection over isolation, to collaboration over fear.

That message resonates deeply with us at Landing Strong.

Our community members are people who have offered themselves, often at great personal cost, in service of country. They are deeply patriotic, guided by values of duty, loyalty, and care for the collective good. Yet injury, whether physical, psychological, or moral, can quietly push people into isolation. The world narrows. Trust erodes. The sense of belonging that once sustained them can feel out of reach.

This is where our work begins.

Rather than digging trenches around pain, we focus on building bridges of understanding, shared experience, and renewed purpose. We name what has happened. We accept it with compassion and clarity. And then, together, we look for new pathways forward. We build on strengths, on common ground, and on the powerful bonds that form when people realize they do not have to carry their burdens alone.

In many ways, this is nation-building at the human level. It is alliance work. It is repair.

I am proud to be Canadian. And I am profoundly proud to serve those who have served our country. I do this by choosing, every day, to build bridges instead of trenches, and by believing that connection is always stronger than division.

Warmly,

 

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