I fully enjoyed my holidays, but have to admitâŠthe thought of returning to work is somewhat daunting.
I canât help but think of the large to do list awaiting me. The tightness in my chest serves as a reminder that I may be expecting too much of myself. I donât think Iâm alone in this regard.
âI am the architect of my universe,â I remind myself. âIf I donât like the way something feels, itâs no oneâs job but mine to change itâ.
I decided to set aside some time this afternoon and draw up lists. Get those âto doâ things out of my head and onto paper. I assigned them priorities. The list isnât actually as long as I thought.
The beauty of the sun glistening on the lake reminds me that deadlines are arbitrary. There is really nothing that is urgent: no one is going to die if I donât get it all done immediately. Instead of things I have to do, Iâll view my tasks as things I can feel good about accomplishing.
Most importantly, Iâll make sure to add a bunch of fun and creative things to my list. If this is to be my job description for the next yearâŠI want it to be creative, engaging and enjoyable.
I add an extra listâŠcreative hobby ideas, and feel myself lighten.
Changing the world might be important, but so is enjoying the day đ
Warm wishes,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
This week, I met someone new.  Letâs call her âRay of Sunshineâ.  She sparkled so brightly I was almost blinded by the bling that adorned her arms and fingers.  Fluorescent pink eye shadow and a matching headband complemented her brightly flowered shirt. Â
âThanks Girlfriendâ she sung out to me happily as she rang up my purchase. Â
âGreat outfitâ I offered smilingÂ
âI gotta whole cupboard âa bright flowered shirts to choose fromâ she chimed in,  âMakes me happyâ.
Now thatâs a woman with intention, I thought with admiration as I left the store.  It felt good that this happy stranger had referred to me as âgirlfriendâ, randomly deciding that kindness was to be her default greeting.  Everything about her told me that before she had even started her day, sheâd decided it was going to be a good one.  What would happen If I started each day with the same degree of intention?
Something to ponder as I search my makeup drawer for baby blue eyeshadow and a matching sparkle shirt. đ  Warm regards,Â
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
Many years ago I attended a work seminar where the facilitator spoke of the importance of developing a Plan B for any major venture you take on. His words struck a chord, for at the time I was working in a federal penitentiary. I wasnât sure how long I would remain there. Every day, I was surrounded by people who repeatedly reported how many years they had until retirement.
âGood morningâ they would greet me cheerfully, âonly six years left âtill retirementâ.
It was the institutional running joke, with people reporting the time they had left on their âsentencesâ prior to being released. Like the inmates they were supervising, they were serving life sentences on the installment plan.
This prompted me to develop a solid Plan B.
From that moment forward, every day that I went to work became a choice. I could continue, or I could change, but I would not allow myself to complain about it because I had the freedom to exercise my will.
Even now, every day I go to work knowing that I have options. My Plan B may not make much money, but itâs always less stressful and generally involves doing something creative. Somehow, that allows me to go to work each day with joy, owning the decision to be there.
It may be your Plan B involves taking time off work so that you can take proper care of yourself. That in itself is a plan.
Warm regards,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Founder, Landing Strong
Iâm working with a few veterans who have discovered the joys of guitar. Some play contemporary music, but surprisingly, most stick to the oldies. Good olâ rock nâroll. I love to watch videos they show me of their playing, and the obvious pleasure it brings.
Have I ever mentioned that I also like to Rock?
Van Halen you may think, or perhaps Pink Floyd⊠maybe the Stones. Before you conjure up frightening images of me in a semi-goth Pat Benatar outfit, with full on spandex pants, high heeled boots, and crazy hair, Iâd better stop you.
Actually, Iâm talking about something much simpler: the practice of walking the deserted beaches of Nova Scotia, collecting beautiful rocks. I love the stillness of these coves, punctuated only by the sounds of wind, gulls, or a distant lobster boat. Walking with me is not easy, my family members have discovered. I find so many rocks that draw me in that I canât carry them all. My family humours me and help out. Their stretched out hoodie pockets are a testament to the strength of my passion.
Once I get home, I wash them, and paint them. Simple beautiful images, always involving nature.
This quiet meditative practice stills my ever-turning mind, and brings me peace.
What will you do with them? People ask me. Actually, I love the fact that they have no real function. In a life where I have a million things going through my head at any point in time, there is something so incredibly satisfying about doing something that has absolutely no discernible purpose, except for the enjoyment it provides.
When I paint these rocks, I imagine them as graduation gifts for those of you who successfully complete the Landing Strong Program. Symbols of reclaiming of aspects of self that may have been lost, or been forgotten. A recalibration of overcharged nervous systems that now allows for moments of gentle reflection and appreciation.
I hope youâll walk with me.
p.s. Spoiler alert: Weâll be doing some rock painting in the program. đ
