The trouble with simple solutions

The trouble with simple solutions

The trouble with simple solutions

Working in the federal penitentiary, I was often faced with situations so complex they felt impossible to solve.

Sitting across from men whose lives had been shaped by violence, trauma, and loss, I sometimes felt overwhelmed by the enormity of their struggles. The stories were messy, and the pathways forward were anything but clear.

Ironically, it was in this environment that I learned one of my greatest lessons: the more difficult a problem, the more fundamental the solution. Not fundamental in the sense of easy, but rather, in terms of the things required. At the core, what people needed was not more rules or restrictions. They needed something many had never experienced before: love, trust, safety, compassion, and connection. Without those, no real healing could take place.

This truth extends far beyond prison walls. In today’s world, we are bombarded with overly simplistic answers to deeply complex problems: violence solves conflict; global warming doesn’t exist; autism can be explained simply by women having taken over-the-counter medication.  These reductionistic black-and-white explanations may feel tidy, but they leave no room space for the depth and nuance that real understanding and solutions require.

There is a danger in simplicity. If we cling to false simplifications, we diminish what makes us human: our ability to reason at a higher level, guided not by fear or blame, but by compassion, values, and respect.

The real solutions, the ones that heal, are never quick fixes. They require courage to sit with discomfort, patience to build trust, and openness to connect. They ask us to embrace complexity rather than run from it. And though it isn’t easy, this is where true change begins….

If you feel you or a loved one may be struggling, please feel free to reach out and contact us or visit the programs section of this website to see what we offer.  

 

Warmly,

 

 

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

Hard work to do, harder not to do it

Hard work to do, harder not to do it

Hard work to do, harder not to do it

Processing trauma is hard not processing trauma is harder.  In an effort to protect ourselves we can shy away from things that are scary or difficult.  But ironically, it’s these very efforts to shield ourselves that keep us injured.  

Some people progress quickly once they begin treatment while others might feel frustrated that they’re not progressing as they would like.  It’s at such moments that we must ask ourselves ‘what am I shying away from that I should be leaning in to?’

It’s behind the doors we least want to open that ultimately lie the greatest treasures.  If we can just find the courage to explore, chances are good, that we’ll be rewarded with a shift in perspective. Therein lies the healing.

Is there something you’re ready to lean into?  Perhaps our Landing Strong door is a good place to start.  

We’re currently loading up a few great group programs.  It’s not too early to get on the list.

Maintaining Health is Thursday September 18th
Identity & Transition is on Fridays: September 26th, October 3rd, 10th, 17th, and 24th
Advanced Skills in Trauma Recovery is on Tuesdays: November 18, 25, December 2, 9, and 16

Warmly,

 

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

Clearing the air within

Clearing the air within

Clearing the air within

I woke up this morning feeling grumpy. At first, I couldn’t quite place why. My morning tea tasted the same.  The routine was unchanged, but my mood was off.

As the day unfolded, conversations with colleagues revealed I wasn’t alone. Many of us were carrying a low-grade irritability that didn’t seem to have an obvious source.

After some reflection, the answer became clearer. We’ve been living under the quiet but persistent weight of worry; going to bed each night thinking of friends and family living closer to the fires, being startled awake by alarms on our phones, or noticing on certain days how the air is hazy with smoke.

Even if the flames aren’t at our doorstep, the unease is still there.  It’s the kind of stress that creeps in quietly, showing up in our moods, our energy, and our ability to focus. Left unrecognized, it can leave us feeling frayed around the edges.

I’m reminding myself to pause and ground. To seek out small moments of calm, whether it’s the simple act of taking a few slow breaths, stepping outside to notice the beauty that remains untouched, or connecting with someone who helps me feel steady.

While it might be hard to control the fires, we do have the ability to tend to our internal landscape. Choosing calm in small ways each day may not stop the smoke from drifting in, but it helps clear the air within.

We’re currently filling two great group programs, and fall is the perfect time to join us.  We have Identity & Transition coming up on Fridays September 19, 26, October 3, 10, 17.  We also are loading up our popular Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction program September 9th, 16th, 23rd, October 2nd (Thursday), 7th, 14th, 21st, 28th. (945am to noon)
Optional 3-hour retreat Nov 4th. (9 to noon)

Contact Julie to learn more and to get on the list! 902-472-2972 or info@landingstrong.com 

Warmly,

 

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

The wisdom of knowing when to unplug

The wisdom of knowing when to unplug

The wisdom of knowing when to unplug


Finding peace doesn’t always come easily. The world is noisy; full of opinions, obligations, and information overload. Shutting it out, even briefly, takes effort. It’s not passive. It’s a practice.

Even my new 9-week-old granddaughter Evelyn seems to sense this. When she’s had enough, she simply closes her eyes, shutting out the world. It’s remarkable, really. Long before she has words, she knows how to take space.

Lately, her parents have been test-driving a pair of sound-reducing headphones in preparation of an upcoming social gathering.  They want to make sure she is not overwhelmed by the noise. 

It makes me wonder: when do we give ourselves permission to unplug? Do we wait until we’re overwhelmed? Until irritability, fatigue, or sadness push us into retreat? Or can we begin noticing the signals earlier; the tightness in our chest, the mind that won’t stop spinning?

At Landing Strong, we often talk about learning to listen inward. The goal isn’t to escape life, but to create rhythms that allow us to stay grounded within it. That might mean a walk without your phone, a moment of stillness before the next conversation, or simply breathing before you respond. The challenge isn’t knowing we need peace. It’s allowing ourselves to seek it before we reach our limit.

Take a page from Evelyn’s book. When the world gets too loud, you’re allowed to soften your gaze, put on your metaphorical earphones, and rest.

It’s not too early to sign up for our Community Connections program Monday August 11th.  Shawn from New Scotland Fly Rods will be guiding us on a fly-fishing excursion!  Spaces are limited.

Please contact us to sign up: info@landingstrong.com or 902-472-2972


Warmly,

 

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

Spaces that soothe

Spaces that soothe

 Spaces that soothe

I recently visited the Purdy Crawford Centre for the Arts in Sackville, New Brunswick, and found myself unexpectedly moved by the student lounge. It wasn’t extravagant or flashy…quite the opposite. The space was calm, inviting. What caught my attention most were the pillows: textured, varied in shape and weight, clearly chosen with intention. They weren’t just decorative. They were designed to soothe.

In a setting where students often carry the weight of deadlines, expectations, and social demands, this space offered quiet reassurance. It said, You belong. You’re allowed to rest here.

It made me reflect on the environments we create, for ourselves and others. So often, we power through our days without noticing the subtle stressors in our surroundings. Noise, clutter, harsh lighting, or even the absence of softness can wear on us over time. But what if we thought differently? What if we gave ourselves permission to design spaces, physical and emotional, that comfort and calm us?

At Landing Strong, we talk a lot about self-regulation and nervous system care. But it isn’t just about internal coping strategies. It’s also about our external world: the textures, sounds, and settings that either support or strain us.

The student lounge reminded me that caring for ourselves doesn’t need to be complex. Sometimes it starts with a soft pillow, a quiet corner, or the courage to make room for calm.

 

Warmly,

 

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

Beauty is a form of resistance

Beauty is a form of resistance

Beauty is a form of resistance  

 

The world feels heavy lately.

It’s easy to get swept up in the noise: the grief, injustice, and constant stream of bad news. As people who care deeply, we want to stay aware. But there’s a difference between being informed and being overwhelmed. And when we lose our footing, it becomes harder to show up for others in the way we want to.


A recent walk through a waterfowl park in Sackville N.B. reminded me of this. The world hadn’t changed, but something within me had. The air was quiet. A heron skimmed the water. Blackbirds rose from the reeds in a flurry of wings and song. For a moment, I was still. And I remembered: beauty heals.


At Landing Strong, we often speak about the importance of grounding. That process doesn’t always come from deep internal work. Sometimes, it starts with stepping outside, softening our gaze, and noticing what’s good. The natural world has a way of reminding us that peace is possible, even when things feel chaotic.


Seeking out beauty isn’t indulgent. It’s essential. It reminds us of what’s worth holding onto. It helps us breathe more deeply, listen more fully, and lead with compassion instead of reactivity.


So, if the world feels too loud today, go outside. Notice the breeze. Watch the trees move. Find something beautiful, however small, and let it anchor you. The steadier we are within ourselves, the better we are for others.

 

Warmly,

 

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