āGet comfortable being uncomfortableā was the suggestion that my friend and business coach, Eleanor Beaton, gave me this week. She was speaking to me about the importance of pushing ourselves toward new things, even when they are challenging or intimidating.
I discussed this topic in a previous blog, when describing my experience in yoga class. It was reassuring to be reminded that itās normal to feel uncomfortable. Looking forward, I think Iām in for a long period of it. Instead of embracing the growing pains, I feel like a character in an Alfred Hitchcock film who is trying to get comfortable while lying on a bed of nails. Itāll take time and practice; some things just canāt be rushed.
There are many new and exciting changes going on, each one introducing new fears or worries.Ā Will we receive funding to start the 3 month program soon? Will the next PTSD Hero Comic be well received? Are the messages we are sending out on social media having a positive impact? Will we get the next grant application in on time?
To get through this time, I tell myself this is not a permanent state. I remind myself of the importance of self-care, making a point of taking a step back when I am feeling overwhelmed.Ā Most importantly, I rely on good friends and a hot tea to remind me Iām not doing it alone.
Weāre taking a huge leap of faith, and creating something innovative and exciting. We feel honoured that you are with us, by being part of our virtual community. With each new addition to our email list, our community has grown by one. Every time you share posts, you help us to spread the word and expand our community. For as you know, it isnāt just a community for those who are injured. It is also for those who are supporting them, or cheering from the sidelines. We are in a marathon of recovery, and even the person who hands out water, or shares the word is part of a wave of social change. There is strength in numbers
Keep telling us what you think. If you have ideas or issues you would like addressed, feel free to send them to us directly at info@landingstrong.com.Ā We love to hear from you!
When I see a worm, I think of my son when he was young. He would use them as bait to catch fish at the cottage. These are heartwarming memories.
For my grandmother, they were a symbol of a healthy garden and the joy she felt when her flowers were in full bloom.
For someone else, they might be a symbol of the mystery of the universe, given that they can be cut into two and still function fully.
For others, worms might evoke a fear response if they have previously had negative experiences with them; for example, an older sibling who tormented them by throwing worms in their hair.
A rainy day and the surfacing of worms can provoke widely different reactions. None of us can truly know how any given situation affects another person based on our own experiences.
Similarly, trauma is intensely personal. Bumping into a friend who seems down on a rainy day, I might assume that they are troubled by the weather. What I might not know is that the weather could be triggering a difficult memory from their past.
Even when a number of people experience the same event, each is uniquely affected by it.
The only way to truly understand the meaning of an event for someone is to ask. This month, our educational campaign centers on supporting those who are caring for loved ones who are injured. Strategy five in our caregiver resource touches on the importance of asking rather than assuming.
If you are already on our email list, weāll be sending to you this resource at the end of the campaign. If you are not on our email list but would like to receive this and other free educational resources, please feel free to join our virtual community.
Itās not uncommon that we see the best of people in the harshest conditions. It shows up in a number of ways: volunteers laying sandbags to fight floodwaters; communities taking in strangers to offer shelter from a storm; or in more extreme conditions, bi-standers risking their lives to protect or defend people they donāt even know.
Itās those critical moments when people show up when it counts the most. When we think back to those times, it is the moments of courage and compassion that strike us the most.
They say that North America is consumed by the search for happiness. Research studies reveal that it is, in fact, purpose, meaning, and social connection that are most important.
If you are reading this, chances are you are in some form of community service: military, policing, firefighting, corrections, paramedical, or medical. Perhaps your service is supporting those who have taken on these difficult roles. We take on these challenges for different reasons: to create something better for ourselves; to establish purpose or meaning in our lives; or even to be of service to our country. Whatās interesting, though, is that ultimately when people are under fire it isnāt their country they are worried about ā itās the person standing next to them. Itās in social connection that we find the greatest meaning.
We all need someone who will have our back, in good times or bad. We all need a tribe, a family, or a group to call our own. Sometimes it takes something awful happening for us to figure this out.
Landing Strong is about creating a tribe: a place where we are all connected by our united sense of meaning and purpose. Our goal is to create opportunity for connection and movement for those who are tired of being where they are at and ready to move forward.
This morning started like many others. The alarm sounds, calling the dogs to the side of the bed. It’s almost 6 a.m. but thereās no sign of the sun just yet. Suited up in all-weather jackets, hiking boots, and headlamps, my husband and I head out on our morning walk. We travel along the first half of our familiar trail in silence since it generally takes 15 minutes before I can string together a coherent sentence this early in the morning. Itās a route we do almost every morning, roughly four kilometres of grassy trail that winds through the forest by our house. Some mornings we see a local fox and her kits, more commonly deer.
This morning, my thoughts gravitate to the Landing Strong Centre.Ā Every day brings forth new possibilities. Iām happiest when someone new reaches out and asks to join our community. Today was a good day as Doug Allen and I worked collaboratively to create a series of workshops for Caregivers. As we take time on this Thanksgiving weekend to think of the people and events we are most grateful for, caregivers are at the front of our minds.Ā These are the folks who stick with it, morning and night, through better and through worse, working tirelessly to support the recovery of their loved ones.
This weekend marks the launch of our caregiver campaign. Every week, we will be sending you tips and tools for managing the challenge of loving someone who has PTSD. They are the people who tirelessly continue to show up, with little expectation of thanks or acknowledgement.
No matter what news awaits me at work, I start my day with four kilometres of nature trails. Through rain, mist, mud or hail, the dogs need to go out. Through good news or bad moods, I keep moving.
The trail may stay the same, but each time I experience it differently.
Like you, I am on a journey. The work will never be finished, so I canāt put life on hold until Iām done. Iāll pace myself: working a bit on it each day. It’s through a series of repeated small steps that big things become possible.
Warmest regards for this Thanksgiving weekend. A special thanks to my family, the Landing Strong Team, and Extended Community (thatās you) for walking with me.
‘If you build it, they will come…’ thatās been my mantra over the last year, as renovations were underway in the new Landing Strong Center. Like a comet hurling through space, I set forth on a mission to see a world class treatment facility in Windsor Nova Scotia: a safe landing for veterans and first responders who have been injured as a result of their service. Last night on the eve of the grand opening, I suddenly got nervous.
What if no one comes? I worried. The place looked fantastic and everything was ready to go.
I neednāt have fretted. The moment the doors opened, the room filled with laughter and warmth as people engaged in the many fun activities we had organized.
I stood back for a moment, and took it all in. I had expected most of the visitors would be people from other organizations or businesses. Then it hit me. This was not the case. The vast majority of the people in the room were veterans and first responders. Talking, connectingā¦ heck even doing mindfulness exercises and chair yoga together.
It was then that I realized it had already started. The Landing Strong community was forming. These men and women were claiming the spaceā¦ making the program theirs. They did not come and leave quickly. They stayed, and connected with one another, renewing old acquaintances and forming new ones.
A group of them even brought me a most touching giftā¦ a beautiful orchid. How fitting, I thought, that they should bring a flower that grows with a fragile beauty out of the harshest places.
Thank you my friends, for helping make this evening so memorable.
I was deeply touched last week when I read an article about Skippy, an 10-month-old barn cat, who crawled home ten days after going missing. He had three broken legs and puncture and talon marks on his back leg. Carried away by an owl, Skippy fought furiously for survival until the bird of prey dropped him, leading to the broken bones. With his one good leg, he somehow managed to drag himself home.
Like Skippy, many of us have an equally strong desire to find our way home; even when it may seem impossible. Although the breaks and injuries might not be visible, invisible wounds can prevent an easy return. Once we have arrived at our destination, thatās often when the real work begins. Will we ever be the same? Is recovery possible? What must happen for us to fit into home as we previously knew it?
This is the work of Landing Strong. It takes incredible resilience to make the journey. We hope that you will join us on September 27th in celebrating the strength, courage, and fortitude it takes for service men and women, veterans, and first responders who are struggling to find their way home.
Another great restorative yoga class this week left me feeling calm and centered (thanks Lisa!). At the end of the class, we practice Savasana, a pose where we lie silently on our backs, eyes closed. This exercise isnāt a physically challenging one, but it is one where the mind tends to wander. During this part, our instructor played a wonderful rendition of the tune āSea of Love,ā the theme song from the 1989 box office movie sensation. In this moment, where we are supposed to be clearing our minds, I was replaying a scene from the movie involving Al Pacino, who plays the role of a burnt-out cop. He is part of a sting operation designed to apprehend people with outstanding warrants, luring them in with the promise of having breakfast with the American Major League baseball star Dave Winfield. Everything was going smoothly until one late-comer shows up holding the hand of his young son.
āHey, am I too late?ā he asks.
āYou got an invitation?ā Al Pacino demands. The father hands over a piece of paper.
āErnest Lee, the invitationās for you only,ā Pacino asserts.
āI can hardly meet Dave Winfield without takinā my boyā, the man pleads.
Not wanting to ruin what was clearly a positive relationship between father and son, Pacino decides to cut him a break.
āWeāre all booked up.ā Pacino discreetly flashes his police badge, signalling to the father that the baseball player event was a trap.
āThanks man,ā the father backs away with his son.
āCatch you later,ā Pacino responds before driving away.
Itās a dark film, about a dark topic, but many years later thatās the scene I rememberā¦ someone in a dark place, showing an act of compassion.
Memory and association are closely related. It is not the actual events that create our emotions, itās how we process and remember these events. If I were stressed out maybe I would have remembered the fact that Al Pacino was a drunk and that the movie was actually about a serial killer. Because I was relaxed, I just remembered the good bit… the compassion.
This is a reminder for me to take the extra time to care for myself. If I take this extra time the bad things I may have experienced donāt seem quite so awful. (And believe me, in my seven years acting as Chief Psychologist in a federal penitentiary, there was bad stuff). If I take the time to process these events, they donāt affect me as much. I am more able to remember the good aspects of my job.
Many of us have experienced or witnessed incredibly traumatic or dark things as a routine part of our daily work. Looking back, how we feel about them is largely determined by how we remember them. The lens of trauma only remembers things the same way, repeated over and over. By welcoming the perspective of others in a safe and supportive environment, we open ourselves to seeing things in a new light, often changing the way these events emotionally impact us.
Recently things have been a bit hectic. Iāve a lot on the go, and am feeling pulled in a number of different directions. For that reason, I decided to spend last weekend centering myself. I thought nothing would be better than to simply spend a day just being: noticing and appreciating the beauty around me. Otherwise known as mindfulness. Iāve been trying to fix up some old chairs, but trying to reupholster them was starting to feel overwhelming. Joe, my supersonic husband, suggested a 25 km bike ride from our cottage to Bear River, and I naively said āgreatā.
Wanting to fill my life sandwich with more knowledge, I ventured out into the countryside eager to expand my understanding of the cosmos. It was here, in the pastoral fields of Clementsville, that I witnessed wildlife that I had never seen before roaming free in Nova Scotia. Zebras.
Feeling I was on a winning streak of enlightenment, I pushed on in my odyssey, and was rewarded with other amazing finds.Ā On the way back through town, I met Walter Wambolt, who appeared to be quite the man about town. Confident and assertive, he was a man of a few words and turned out to be a great listener.
I made the internal commitment to be more like him. Walter beckoned me into a nearby bakery. It was there, in a back room of the bakery, that I discovered a hidden upholstery shop. The baker, it turns out, is a talented fellow who is also able to help me reupholster some chairs I am reclaiming.
So all in all, it was a pretty great day. I did make it home, and could barely walk the next day, but no worries. I felt complete with all the new teachings. Iām going to keep working on this mindfulness thing.
I was going for a hike last weekend when I stumbled across the perfect example of resiliency. A magnificent mushroom, in the middle of a gravel road, pushing its way up towards the universe. Despite everything that says it shouldnāt exist, it appears to be thriving.
It made me ponder the meaning of resilience: not just surviving, but thriving in the face of adversity. Having that wonderful Indian rubber ball ābounce backā quality when life throws us hard knocks.
Many people I work with tell me that I better not expect them to get all emotional because they ādonāt do that stuff.ā
Ignoring the emotional impact of our experiences takes a bigger toll than we think. Dealing with the emotional impact of our experiences is often harder than carrying out the duties of our jobs in the first place. Itās a completely different headspace than being in operational mode.
When we arenāt able to experience or express our feelings, we create an emotional backlog that eventually catches up with us. Itās only possible to keep this up for so long. This is one of the reasons we see so many military members and first responders people performing at a top level in their careers, only to experience problems after many years of service or following retirement. They arenāt broken, they are suffering from emotional backlog.
By learning to clean our emotional closet regularly, we prevent injury.
How do we do this? By being vulnerable. Resiliency isnāt about being tough, itās about knowing how and when to take care of ourselves so that we can continue to do our jobs and be okay.
We grow stronger by shining a light on the darkest areas of our lives, and understanding the emotional impact of these experiences on us. Going to those places that we least want to go. Our resiliency comes from fearlessly facing the emotions that accompany them.
So as you can see, courage is tied into resiliency. And the people who are doing the work of recovery are some of the bravest people I know.
We are hosting a Celebration of Resiliency in conjunction with the Grand Opening of our new Landing Strong Centre in Windsor, Nova Scotia. Weād love to have you join us in celebrating the strength of our community, and the military members, veterans, and first responders who serve them. Letās also celebrate the families who support them, because they are indeed, as the Military Family Resource Center puts it, the strength behind the uniform.
This weekend, while at the cottage, my son Kyle came into the kitchen munching a Jos Louis.
āWhere did you get that?ā I asked, surprised to see it.
āThe back of the cupboard,ā he grinned.
āFunny, I donāt remember buying them.” Needing to see this for myself, I rummaged through the back of the cupboard. I soon realized why I didnāt remember buying them… the expiry date was September 28, 2016.
āStopā¦ thatās two years old!ā I warned.
āAnd never tasted better!ā he responded laughing.
Funny, not many things in life are like that. Most things decline with age. There are of course exceptions: fine wines, good cheese, and Jos Louis are among them. Bread found in IMPās (military rations) are perhaps another. Iāll never quite understand how something can be deemed edible but non-degradable.
Doug Allen, former infantry Sergeant, Program Manager and Social Worker with the Landing Strong Team, is definitely someone who holds his own (and in fact keeps getting better) over time.
Doug spent 17 years in the Canadian Forces, stationed with the Patriciaās Canadian Light Infantry. He has conducted Peace support operations in Bosnia, combat operations in Afghanistan, and various domestic operations here in Canada. Since returning from Afghanistan in 2008, he has been working with ill and injured Canadian Force members helping them to overcome trauma and reclaim their lives.
Dougās approach to trauma recovery focuses on reducing the āchargeā of fight/flight or freeze, and helping to break out of survival mode. He believes that every person has the strength to become well, as long as they are in an environment that inspires and empowers change.
Youāll recognize Doug by the twinkle in his eye, his quick grin, and his cool tattoos. We welcome his leadership and inspired energy. Hmmm, now that I think about it, he doesnāt seem to ageā¦ I wonder Doug, do you by any chance eat Jos Louis?
