How do we make a difference when the problem feels so big?
Over the past few weeks, the very foundation of our country has rocked with the discovery of 1,323 bodies of First Nations children at various sites across Canada. Â Itâs believed that there are many more yet to be found.Â
Iâve hesitated to write about this.  Itâs incredibly important and I donât want to get it wrong.  How do we possibly come to terms with this level of atrocity?  The genocide of a generation of our First Nations children: are we glimpsing the ugliest part of humanity?Â
Iâm reminded of a discussion I had many years ago following news of the tragic shooting at Montrealâs Ăcole Polytechnique where innocent lives were taken.  During a National conference of 1000 psychologists, we sat in a room together and asked ourselves the question: How to we respond to such atrocity?  How can we prevent such horrific acts of violence from reoccurring?  There were no quick answers.  We all felt powerless.  Eventually one of the speakers stood and spoke in a tentative voice:
âI donât have the power to change the world, but I certainly can have a significant impact on my immediate circle within my community.âÂ
Others chimed in:
 âIf each of us has a voice and speaks out, we are 1000 strong in this room alone.  If we all speak to 100 people thatâs 100,000 minds that we have the power to change.  We all have an immediate circle of influence.  If we all commit to being part of the solution, demanding change, that has to have an impactâ. Â
I donât pretend to have the answers.  Nothing can make this right.  We canât go back and undo the harm that has been done.  I was taught that Canada is a mosaic woven of many different colours and fabrics.  I believe the diversity is what provides richness to our Country.Â
We donât heal from our past by looking away.  If there is to be hope for a version of Canada where all are treated with dignity and respect, we need to witness even our nations darkest periods. Â
Ignoring pain does not allow for healing.  It prolongs it.  Letâs strengthen our circles, making sure the steps forward are meaningful and lasting.
This is news that needs to be felt.  Only then can we ensure it never happens again.Â
Warm regards,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
The trouble with traumatic memories is that we play the same internal tape over and over again.  Like an LP on repeat, they seldom vary.  We get stuck in a loop that doesnât allow us to see things through a different lens. If we keep our thoughts and feelings inside, they donât shift.
Thatâs why I love group work. Itâs hard, to be sure, but the insights and reflections of others allow us to see ourselves in a different light. Experiences that might originally have been terrifying, can transform to courageous in the retelling.
There is a traditional Lakota expression that says âHealing takes place in the spaces between people.â
No truer words were ever spoken.  Iâd like to take my hat off to the twenty courageous men and women who recently successfully completed the Emotions Management and Healthy Living programs.  Even with the multiple layers of challenge going on in Nova Scotia, they stepped forward, ready to tackle material that has for years kept them from living their fullest lives.  They started the process of reshaping history in the retelling.  It was a unique experience to be sure, to be processing, in real time, layers of trauma as it unfolded in our province. Â
Congratulations as well to twenty new people who have stepped forward for the Trauma Recovery and Body and Mind Health and Recovery programs.  The world may be on pause, but there’s a powerful, strong group of you moving forward.Â
Warm regards,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
My dogs are completely ridiculous.  When I come home each day, they charge towards me at top speed, so filled with glee that they can hardly contain themselves.  They are so excited that they start jumping on one another in a playful Ninja manner, the little dog trying to nip the haunches of her older sister in an effort to reach me first.  They quickly become a blurred black and white explosion of play and energy, forgetting the fact that they were even coming to see me.Â
When they are relaxed, itâs not uncommon to see them mirroring one another, their bodies unconsciously copying the posture and mood of the other.  What we are witnessing is co-regulation in action.  Because they are close, the mood and actions of one significantly affects the mood and actions of the other.
Co-regulation is that moment by moment interaction between the central nervous system of one person (or dog) with another. Â
When you laugh, I laugh with you. Â
When you cry, I feel the heaviness in my chest, and instinctively reach out.
Being in close proximity with one another during this COVID crisis, we canât help but have a profound effect on those around us.  Our central nervous systems are in synchronicity, constantly interacting, bouncing off one another and mirroring emotions that we may not even be aware of.  How I am feeling has a huge effect on my household, and how others are feeling affects me.  At this time in particular, itâs incredibly important that we are aware of the manner in which we are contributing to, or detracting from the health and well-being of those in our circle.
Co-regulation doesnât just happen in person.  It can also travel through the internet.  Another personâs anger can transmit virtually.  So can joy.  Iâm careful in deciding which news to watch, because in general, bad news sells.  This morning CTV focussed on new vaccination efforts, miracle plane landings, and funny bad haircuts, and I started my day off with a smile.
I invite you to take the time to notice what you are feeling, and set an intention about the mood you want to spread to those you love.  Attached is a fun exercise called âCookie breathingâ developed by Liana Lowenstein which might help.  Try practicing, and see if you experience an internal shift.
Warm Regards, Belinda
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
Letâs face it, PTSD is a label. Having a diagnosis can be very helpful as it allows clients to access appropriate resources and supports. However, it doesnât accurately reflect the experience of recovering from trauma.
When healthy people are repeatedly exposed to traumatic and dangerous situations, itâs normal that thereâs a residual effect. Like an athlete that runs too many marathons without enough recovery time, injuries are sustained that can be lingering or career-threatening.
The word âdisorderâ does a disservice to the injuries suffered by those who put themselves in harmâs way in the course of their work. People with PTSD are not disordered, they are injured. Their wounds originate from repeated or severe exposure to trauma. Thereâs nothing disordered about that, itâs a natural and predictable reaction to unnatural events or situations.
Just because itâs invisible, doesnât mean itâs not real. Weâre going to increasingly be using the term PTSI in our communications. These injuries are significant, severe, and potentially life threatening if not tended to in a thoughtful, compassionate manner. As with any injury, thereâs a continuum of severity, ranging from mildly disruptive to debilitating. Not everyone who has these injuries is the same. The mechanism of injury, presentation of symptoms, and severity of harm may vary from person to person. Nonetheless, everyone has an equal right to access treatment and care in a timely manner.
Disorders are something we stick in the corner and donât quite know what to do with. Injuries are something we heal. So we get it, without the label, itâs impossible to access appropriate care. But between you and me, weâll be calling it an injury.
Warm wishes,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
Do you remember dreaming of snow days as a child? Iâd cross my fingers in hopes that school would be cancelled. Snow day. These two beautiful words evoke excitement and anticipation, with the thought of an unstructured and unsupervised day laying ahead. Even as we grow older, the freedom associated with snow days persists. Some of us might make a last-minute rush to the grocery store to stock up on storm chips. Others might curl up on the couch for Netflix marathons.
Although I know that heavy snowfalls will precipitate massive cancellations in my client schedule, I have to confess⊠a part of me gets excited. Iâll have a whole day of no structure, and little supervision. What kind of trouble can I get myself into, I wonder?
Okay, I know Iâll end up using this time to catch up on overdue work. But itâs incredibly satisfying knowing that I donât have to.
At Landing Strong, we recognize that snow days arenât as much fun for everyone. Driving in such conditions is stressful. For those of you in first responder roles, we acknowledge that you are putting your coats on as we are coming home and taking ours off. For this, we thank you.
Snow days are a reminder that the emotional meaning of current events is coloured by the lens of past experiences. What might be positive for one person could be alarming or stressful to another. Trauma is like that too.
Trauma isnât about what happens to us, rather, itâs the personal meaning of the event in the context of our lives thatâs important.
Thatâs why we canât judge othersâ reactions to things when they differ from ours. We havenât walked in their shoes, or seen things through the lens of their experiences. By seeking to understand, we diminish the aloneness of their experience.
Warm wishes,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
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
