Working in the federal penitentiary, I frequently met inmates who chose alcohol over life. They repeatedly shared stories of relationships that fell apart because the pull towards substances was more compelling than their desire to be in relationships. When given the choice, they chose Johnny Walker over their partners.
The decision to cut down on substance use (or to be abstinent) is really a decision about health and connection.
I choose to trust. I choose to feel. I choose to fully live.
Abstinence does indeed help the heart grow fonder. We run group programs year round designed to help you ensure the life you are living reflects the life you want. Feel free to call us if youâd like to jump into an upcoming group.
Warm regards,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
âI got you a delicious cake,â said the mole âDid you?â âYesâ âWhere is it?â âI ate it,â said the mole âOhâ âBut I got you another.â âDid you? Where is that one?â âThe same thing seems to have happened.âÂ
-The Boy, the Mole the Fox and the Horse by Charlie Mackesy Â
Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to show up for someone even if we might not know what to do.   Or maybe we try to say something and it comes out all wrong. Â
Many people are hesitant to join group because it can be scary.Â
âWhat if I say the wrong thing? What if I donât belong?â  Or even worse, âWhat if I say something that injures someone?â Â
Being in group is about meeting people where they are at.  Everyone starts in a different space, and goes at their own speed.  We arenât supposed to all be the same. We donât always say or do the right thing. But somehow we work it out.
I can promise you one thing …we wonât eat your cake!  Give us a call and join us for a group program this spring.
Warm regards,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
âWhat is the bravest thing youâve ever said?â asked the boy. âHelpâ said the horse. âWhen have you been at your strongest?â Asked the boy âWhen I have dared to show my weaknessâ
The Boy, the Mole the Fox and the Horse by Charlie Mackesy
 I used to belief courage was about doing things that involved incredible risk:  Running into burning buildings; putting oneself into the line of fire; more recently caring for those with contagious diseases. Â
These are indeed acts of courage.
What I have learned to appreciate though, is a quieter more invisible form of courage.  Itâs the force that motivates us to speak when itâs easier to remain silent.  To stand up and be seen when we can blend in or remain invisible.  To ask for help when in many ways itâs less effort to simply carry on.
Asking for help may be one of the hardest and most courageous things we can do.
Warm regards,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
We all need to have a sense of belonging. Even porcupines need to connect.  Did you know that a group of porcupines is called a prickle? Even if we donât look approachable, it doesnât mean we arenât looking to connect.
I have a friend Kari MacLeod who walks both her cats and dogs through the forest near her house.  Recently, she has had an unlikely new addition to the walking crew: a porcupine has been welcomed into the ranks.Â
This porcupine found its prickle with Kari and her pets.
Sometimes we find belonging in unexpected places.  Even if we are coming out of our comfort zone to create it.  Like porcupines, people who suffer from injury are not always seen as approachable.  There might be fears of getting close. Â
Itâs only after getting to know porcupines better that we realize their quills are only used as a protective measure.  They might look threatening, but underneath it all, theyâre just as loveable as any other creature.  Their quills arenât designed to keep people away, but to protect them from harm.
Many first time group participants have concerns about fitting in, but our shared experiences and common ground connect us in a way that is stronger than any differences that may exist.  Whether you find your prickle with us or somewhere else, we hope you find strength and support within a community.Â
When I was a little girl, I was sure that there were monsters in the basement. I remember running full speed up the stairs, away from the dark cellar so that the monsters didnât get me. They were huge, scary and dangerous. Avoiding it kept me afraid. Had I faced them, I would have discovered it was just the furnace making a weird noise. Slightly unsettling but not scary at all. Certainly not unmanageable.
Sometimes when we donât want to feel something, itâs easier to compartmentalize our emotions. We run away from them so that they canât hurt us. The problem with this is that our fear of them is usually greater than the pain they can cause us. We feed our fears by looking away. They get their power from silence and being ignored or hidden.
They say courage is born on the battlefield.  That may be true, but I think just as often it arises in the aftermath, when we work to face our emotions. Anyone in a service profession knows about putting a âgame faceâ on.  You know it, showing no fear even when you are about to walk into a situation that is dangerous, frightening or threatening.  Joe Frazier knew it when walked into the ring to face Muhammad Ali, arguably one of the greatest boxers of all time.  Ali had a total of 56 professional wins, 37 of them by knockout.  So when Frazier walked in the ring, he likely knew that he had a 50% chance of being knocked unconscious.  Yet he did it anyway.   Shoving our emotions aside in times of distress is important and often necessary.  It allows us to remain functional.  The challenge is knowing when and how to take our game face off, and look deeper to discover what it is that we are actually feeling.  In treatment groups Iâve had Special Forces Members, Police, RCMP, Firefighters, Paramedics, EOD Techs, Corrections Officers and Trauma Counsellors say the same thing.  Coming to treatment was one of the hardest, but most important things they have ever done.  So perhaps courage does take many forms.  The obvious ones, and the more invisible form as we all come together to regroup, recalibrating our central nervous systems, and reclaiming important aspects of self that may have been lost along the way.  In my mind, that is indeed the face of courage.  Warm regards,Â
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong