The gifts newcomers bring

The gifts newcomers bring

The gifts newcomers bring

 

When I travel to Toronto to visit my father, I often take an Uber to get around the city.

Over time I’ve made it a practice to learn about the people who drive me. Experience has taught me that beneath the surface of a simple ride, there are often stories of great courage, resilience and hope.

This trip was no exception. The car that arrived was spotless and cared for with evident pride. My driver, I soon learned, was from Afghanistan. Back home he had been a Human Rights Lawyer specializing in the protection of women and children. His wife he shared, was the Executive Director of a shelter for women fleeing intimate partner violence. Together, they had built lives of service, only to leave it all behind in order to start anew in Canada with their children.

As we talked, I commented on how big an investment his car must have been, and how difficult it is for Uber drivers to make a decent wage. His response humbled me. He said he was grateful for the work, glad to be able to provide for his family, even if it meant 14 to 16-hour days.

This fall he will begin a paralegal program at a local college, supported by a student loan. His English, he admitted, isn’t yet strong enough for law school, but his dream is to one day return to his calling.

What struck me most was his gratitude. He spoke warmly of Canada of the safety, the kindness of its people, and the opportunities it offers his family.

I left the car wishing him well and deeply moved. In truth, it is we who are fortunate, our country enriched by people like him and his wife, who bring with them resilience, vision, and hope for a better future.

 

Warmly,

 

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

Catching more than fish

Catching more than fish

Catching more than fish 

On our Community Connection excursion a couple weeks ago, Mackenzie and I decided to share a fly rod. She took the first cast. Almost instantly, she felt the tug of a fish nibbling at the line. Eyes wide, she quickly thrust the rod back to me. “You take it,” she exclaimed. “I don’t want to catch anything!” We both burst into laughter.

I stepped up, still chuckling, and tried my hand at casting. To my surprise I caught a fish almost immediately. What I neglected to mention is, that while I love fish, I hadn’t actually wanted to catch one either. It had been over forty years since I last held a fish or removed one from a hook.

There I stood, a reluctant angler facing a slippery reality. But with some fumbling and help from a certain brave veteran, the catch and release was successful. The fish swam away unharmed.

Reflecting back, I realize that the excursion wasn’t really about fishing. It was about the connections we build in shared experiences, stepping out of our comfort zones, laughing at our mistakes, and supporting each other in moments of uncertainty.

Sometimes, what we “catch” has little to do with the line and everything to do with the bonds formed along the way.

 

Warmly,

 

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

We never really know what’s to come

We never really know what’s to come

 We never really know what’s to come

Eighteen months ago, my 92-year-old father was told he likely had between two weeks and two months to live. At the time, we braced ourselves, quietly preparing for goodbye. But here we are, another summer unfolding, and happily he’s still with us.

Life for him is much simpler now. Though he can no longer hold a paintbrush, his artist’s eye remains beautifully intact. As I take him for slow strolls through the neighbourhood in his wheelchair, he soaks in the details: the deep blue of the hydrangeas, the dappled light through the trees, the subtle shifts of colour in the sky. His gaze lingers, noticing what many of us miss in our hurry.

He smiles kindly at passersby, waves hello to strangers, and sometimes when the noise of the world becomes too much, he quietly removes his hearing aid, choosing instead the peace of his own inner world. It’s not withdrawal; it’s discernment. A gentle choice to rest in stillness.

There’s something profoundly moving in witnessing how he navigates this time, not with fear or regret, but with gratitude. His presence reminds me that while we can’t control how long we have, we can choose how we show up each day.

There is a grace in how he has accepted life on life’s terms, no resistance, no panic. Just a deep, abiding appreciation for what is, rather than what might be.

There’s a lesson in that.

We often try to predict and plan, to carve certainty out of uncertainty. But life doesn’t follow our timelines or expectations. It offers both hardship and hope in unpredictable measure.

Whether you’re in a season of grief, healing, or quiet joy, may you find space to breathe deeply and take in the moment.  None of us truly knows how much time we have, but there is beauty in the not knowing. Sometimes, the greatest gift is simply another summer.

It’s not too early to late to sign up for Community Connections Monday.  We’ll have fun with a game or two of Disc Golf.  No experience necessary.   

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

 

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

Celebrating our Community

Celebrating our Community

Celebrating our Community 

 

How do we possibly begin to tell you how wonderful the Artisanal Fair was?

Last Friday we held an event to celebrate our Landing Strong community.  The celebration began by highlighting the community contribution of our Landing Strong members, as they were awarded coins for their efforts in making our world a safer place.  

Serenaded by veteran and first responder musicians, we enjoyed Chef Randi’s delectable treats as we toured eighteen tables that formed our Artisanal Fair.  

Reading the Artist’s Statements, and viewing their creative works, it was impossible not to see the beautiful forms that recovery can take.  

The event created a feeling, that is difficult to explain through words.  Instead, we are sharing a photos and clips of music so that you can appreciate just how special the day really was. 

A big shout out to all those who made this day a resounding success.  Whether you were an exhibitor, a greeter, a planner, or assisted with setup and take down, it was a fantastic, combined effort.   

We appreciate each and every one of you. 

 

Warmly,

 

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

Side by side in harmony

Side by side in harmony

Side by side in harmony 

In a recent trip to Cuba there was a free book library at the towel exchange. I couldn’t help but notice how happily the books were snuggled up against one another, almost as though friends, despite the fact they came from different parts of the world and spoke different languages.

If only it were so simple… I thought to myself.

I can’t control things on the world’s stage, but I can control the intentional way I might greet friends I have not yet met. I want to lean in with curiosity and wonder rather that assuming people might fall into stereotypes of who I think they could be.

We have choices on how much media we consume and when. We also have choices on how we allow it to affect us.

To a certain extent, the key to solving global conflict starts at home; in the quality and nature of simple interactions we have with one another. We can be part of the problem, or part of the solution, it’s our choice.

There’s still time to sign up for our Healthy Living program, and
we are also loading a Care for the Caregiver one-day workshop at the Halifax Military Family Resource Center on May 30th.

 

Warmly,

 

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