Confessions of an Out-of-Control Empath …

Posted on March 5, 2025 by winesoakedramblings - The Blog of Vickie van Dyke

We all look at empathy as a beautiful attribute, a quality we should happily possess and nurture. But have you ever wondered what happens to a person when their empathy runs amok? When they are overwhelmed with compassion? When their understanding reaches such an absurd level they almost become one with the object of their empathy?

I have.

Yes, I have come to know intimately that empathy can run out of control which is, obviously, unhealthy for all concerned.

I go back to a situation many years ago, when a fairly new friend lost her husband in a plane crash. She was a mess and, even though our acquaintanceship was young, I took it upon myself to be a mess with her. I showed up every day, to help with the details, to hug and cry, to hear stories and memories, drink wine and ultimately take over the planning of the memorial. I was consumed with this poor woman’s grief. I was consumed with doing everything in my power to help her through her grief. I was consumed. Period.

Until my then-husband very kindly took me aside and said, “Vickie, I am still alive. YOUR husband did not die. Why are you acting like this is YOUR tragedy?”

He was absolutely correct. I was so immersed in this tale of woe – a “there but for the grace of God go I” kind of story – I forgot to remember that this was NOT my narrative. Yes, I should be on deck to help out and yes, I should be a good friend and yes, I should empathize to the best of my ability. But NO. It was not my job nor was it in my best interest to saturate myself with her pain. It wasn’t in HER best interest either. Because the closer I got, the more she needed and the more I gave, the more she demanded. I became her lifeline until I myself collapsed in exhaustion. Emotional exhaustion.

But this is what an out-of-control empath does. Too much. Too strong. Too intense. Is there such a thing as being too helpful?

You’d think I might have learned my lesson. But no. My staggering desire to empathize with someone else’s adversity advanced the ultimate destruction of a long-term, very close friendship. With this troubled pal, I didn’t understand the term ‘boundaries’ so I never set them. I was available at all hours in all locations for all communications required by my dear damsel-in-distress. Her neediness sucked the life out of me and I let it happen. Over and over again. For years. Until our relationship imploded.

And that’s a fact most of us never see or recognize. Empathy is a divine and necessary ingredient to any affiliation. But even empathy – astute empathy – must have its limit. We must learn to make our hearts available without inviting them to be trampled on. We must learn to offer solace and space without sacrificing our own sovereignty. We must try to understand without living someone else’s problem as our own.

For many, this is not a dilemma. Lots of people are able to offer sympathy (“I feel so sorry for you”) without ever crossing into empathy (“I understand you and your pain”). I know people who quite consciously temper their engagement with overt self-preservation. People who “don’t get involved” because it’s “not really their business”. People who even call themselves “selfish” because their own comfort is more important than offering comfort to someone else.

I will not find fault nor will I condemn those people. Sure, in my perfect world we would all be a little more selfless, a little less self-absorbed and a whole lot more empathetic.

But …

In my perfect world I would also NOT be out of control. I would not dive into everyone’s pain-pool like it’s a day at the beach in July. I would not allow friendships to implode (or explode) because I never set proper, healthy boundaries in the first place. I would utilize my empathetic spirit wisely, in a way that is helpful to others without being detrimental to me. I would find that all-important balance between selflessness, compassion, generosity and self-care.

This is an ongoing, daily exercise. And if you too are an out-of-control empath, I am quite certain you know exactly what I am talking about. I know it sounds funny but I’ve concluded that controlling my empathy is much like controlling my wine intake or the number of cheeseburgers I consume. Availability is paramount but moderation is key.

Whether it is crying at the news, aiding a troubled friend, feeling my son’s pain like it’s my own or fearing for the entire world, I am no good to anyone if my out-of-control empathy ends up destroying ME. So, henceforth …

Control.

Empathy that is useful. Empathy that is reasoned. Empathy that is true. But …

Empathy that is in IN control.

For everyone’s benefit.

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The Beauty of Booze (and the Wonder of Water)!

Posted on February 25, 2025 by winesoakedramblings - The Blog of Vickie van Dyke

I didn’t name this blog WineSoakedRamblings for nothing. If you know me, you know I love my wine.

I also love a cold lime beer in the summer, an Aperol Spritz on the deck in the sunshine and the occasional splash of Grand Marnier over strawberries. But mostly I am a wino, and a happy one.

Much like the vast populations of Italy, France, Spain and many other European countries. You know, those lovely places where wine is a part of everyday life, affordable, available and delicious. Yes, I am sure people get tipsy on occasion, but I think the overseas wine-drinking ritual is more cultural and cultivated. Unlike this side of the ocean when so much alcohol consumption is designed to alter our consciousness. Designed to change our reality. Designed to create a party, not a lifestyle.

Which got me to thinking about the why. Why do we love booze? Why do we love the effect booze has on us? Why do some of us abuse booze to the point that we must give it up entirely?

Why?

And then a few nights ago, after my first glass of Pinot Grigio, it came to me. The answer to the why.

Suspended animation.

At least that is the term I came up with.

We have that first drink and all of our edges are softened. The world seems a little kinder. Life possesses more optimism. We just feel better! And we really want that feeling to last. For as long as possible. We want to maintain that ethereal state. Freeze-dry our psyches into that bliss. Stay just a tiny bit tipsy.

So … we have another drink. Another drink to fuel the fantasy.

And that’s when things start to go south. Because that next drink does not perpetuate our suspended animation. It may seem like it does but ultimately it just escalates it. As does the next and the next and so forth and so on.  Eventually we have totally abandoned that desired state of euphoria and we find ourselves …

Drunk. Combative. Mouthy. Emotional. Fuddled. Sentimental. Sensitive. Disturbed. Impulsive. Stupid.

All things that are NOT in any way similar to that first-drink-suspended-animation-bliss. The very act of trying to immortalize that feeling ends up killing it.

So the question begs – do we just limit ourselves to one drink and then stop? Enjoy our bliss for the few moments we get and then allow it to slip away untethered as reality re-roots. Accept it for the fleeting feeling it is?

Maybe.

But I have recently embarked on a different plan. The wine and water plan.

Step 1. I drink my icy cold Pinot Grigio. As slowly as possible. Savouring ever sip.

Step 2. When I near the bottom of my glass, I fill it with water. Which I then sip every bit as lovingly as I did the wine. Because here’s the thing – it still tastes a bit like wine and it allows that bliss to keep going WITHOUT the intensification.

Step 3. I switch to red (I do love a nice Baco Noir). Repeat Steps 1 and 2.

This all happens before dinner. While I am cooking and listening to music or chatting with friends. And then … once dinner is served I move on to …

Step 4. Water in my wine glass. On top of whatever wine may be left. And that is that.

Because once I start eating, I’m not paying attention to the wine anymore so water is just fine, thank you very much. My suspended animation has lasted for two hours and I feel great. I am ready to move on to the remainder of the evening with a (reasonably) clear head and a smile on my face.

Now don’t get me wrong, I am no saint and there are still times when the “party” takes over and I exceed my own 2-glass rule. Even so, I still try my best to keep the water flowing as frequently as the wine, especially at the end of the evening. It really does help!

So … the next time you feel yourself entering into that lovely, suspended state and you feel yourself desperately wanting to stay there … add water to your wine. Or have a glass of water after every drink. Remind yourself that the “other” method does not work. It never has and never will. Drink-upon-drink might feel good (for a minute) but it will always come back to haunt you.

Be like those Europeans! Appreciate that wine or cocktail, delight in every sip, revel in your bliss and then … drink some water.

Every. Single. Time.

Your bliss (and your body) will thank you.

PS Confession: when I started writing this blog, I always composed while drinking wine. Thus the name. My ramblings truly were wine-soaked. These days I write in the morning. With endless glasses of water fueling my thoughts. Because later, I want to be fully present with my wine … as with my life.

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In Honour of Valentine’s Day … You Absolutely Do Not Have to Love Everyone!

Posted on February 13, 2025 by winesoakedramblings - The Blog of Vickie van Dyke

EDIT!
Because love is not always the answer.


Upon reading this today I realized I might have been a bit more specific with exactly who you do not have to love. At least in my opinion.


1. You do not have to love people whose political views offend you. Not just differ from yours … actually appall you.
2. You do not have to love people whose political views have become moral judgements and you cannot abide them.
3. You do not have to love people who ghost you with no explanation.
4. You do not have to love people who believe they are superior … to anyone or everyone.
5. You do not have to love people who throw you down staircases and break your ribs.
6. You do not have to love people who take advantage of you financially.
7. You do not have to love people who purport to love you and then … destroy you psychologically and emotionally.
8. You do not have to love people just because you are related.
9. You do not have to love people just because you once did.
10. You do not have to love people who are incapable of loving you back.

And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming …

I have never been a big fan of Valentine’s Day (manufactured holiday designed to make us spend money and feel miserable) but I have always been a big fan of love. When I peruse old blog titles, I see things like love of your life, elements of love, love letters, unconditional love, staying in love, defining love, confusing love with ownership, leaving with love … the list goes on and on.

But there are two titles that really resonate with me still, after all these years.

“Love is a Verb.”

Very much so. Without affirmative action it cannot exist. You must “do” love for it to be. “Saying” love or even “feeling” love will never be enough. Pretty simple, right?

“When Love Isn’t Really Love.”

Much more complicated. Because we throw “I love yous” around with such abandon, I doubt many of us ever stop to decipher if we really mean it. If we truly love the actual person in front of us. The truth is, we often fall in love with the “potential” we crave as opposed to loving the “reality” presented.

Think about it. Especially in romantic situations, we meet someone, we are attracted to certain lovely attributes but some blazing red flags may also be waving. We choose to ignore them. Because we have already “fallen in love.” We have already made the decision to love, even without having all the pertinent information. And so we decide to ignore the flags, believing that whatever brilliance is dazzling us will also transform those flaws into virtues.

Not bloody likely.

This conundrum isn’t exclusive to love affairs. It happens with friendships too. Which is why so many relationships crash to a halt when the veneer wears off. When someone does not live up to the potential WE have installed in them, we suffer monstrous disappointment. Doesn’t really seem fair, right? As the old saying goes, when someone tells you who they are, believe them. If they SHOW you who they are and you don’t like what you see, run for the hills! But if they tell you and show you and you still think you can change them with enough love, allow me to assure you that you cannot. You will not. People only change when they want to.

Which brings me back to the title of this rambling.

Because I now believe that, not only are you not required to love everyone who once crossed your path or is still on your path, you shouldn’t. Even if you thought you loved them once and maybe altruistically wanted to love them for all time, you do not have to. There is no binding contract. You are not obligated by law. Or even humanity. If the realization strikes that they are not worthy of your love, abandon ship. You are allowed.

You can simply say, “Nope. No more.”

Or, as Mel Robbins says in her new book, “Let Them.”  

Let them go. Let them be exactly who they are. Let them disappoint you. Let them ignore you. Let them prove their points and more importantly let them prove to you who they are and who they choose to be. Don’t fight reality. Don’t fight those red flags. Let them.

And then let them go. And stop loving them.

It is not your job to love the whole damn world. I honestly used to think it was. MY job. To love everyone, no matter what. I thought love was the answer. Love was the question. Love was a choice I lovingly made. Love was my mandate. Love was my mantra.

Not anymore. The world is going pretty crazy these days, depleting my tolerance levels, my patience and my love stockpile. Yes, that endless supply of goodwill and generosity I once possessed is dwindling. Don’t misunderstand, it is still available. But it must be earned. And I may just be a little more prudent with its dispersal.

The second part of Mel’s “Let Them” theory is … “Let Me.”

Let them do what they want, be who they are, treat me as they wish and act as they choose.

And then “let me” decide what I will do with all that information.

I don’t have to love everybody and the truth is I don’t want to. I don’t want to love potential and I don’t want to ignore flags and I don’t want to be left holding the empty love bag time and time again. I want to “do” love with all my heart but only with those who are willing (and able) to do love back.

So … I will not wish you a Happy Valentine’s Day (tomorrow) because, like I said … dumb holiday. I will wish you the courage to decide what love (both old and new) is authentic enough to reliably fill your heart with joy, wonder and faith. And the courage to let go of any “love” that feels fraudulent, contrived or exhausting.

You don’t have to love everybody. Even on Valentine’s Day.

And even if you want to.

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Are You “Too Much”?

Posted on February 3, 2025 by winesoakedramblings - The Blog of Vickie van Dyke

Ever been told that? That you are “too much”?

If you never have, then I guess you can skip this rambling.

On second thought, if you never have but you get the concept … or … you have maybe accused someone else of being too much … I implore you to read on.

Because I can tell you unequivocally, as a person who has been labelled “too much” far too many times, it is a useless moniker and quite frankly, one that speaks more to who you are than to who I might be.

My mother used to tell me that I was too loud. I was constantly being admonished. “Quiet down, Vickie,” she whispered … “You are always too loud.”

You know who else gets kind of intense (boisterous? strident? vociferous?) sometimes? My son. Is it in our DNA?  Perhaps. But unless he is disturbing the peace at a funeral (doesn’t happen) I never say a word. Ever. Because I understand what it feels like to be asked to shut up. By your mother!

And I will not do that to him.

(For the record, I have a few girlfriends who get really vocal – especially when they’ve been drinking – and I try to give them free reign as well.)

But too loud and too much are quite different. Because too much suggests that you should be less.

Less what?

Less opinionated? Less emotional? Less forthright? Less colourful?

I don’t get it. Should we all be sheep? Demure? Quiet? Unassuming? Indifferent?

I look to my family and wonder … were we all too much?

Even my blessed mother, who WAS quiet and usually agreeable, was too much. Too much to settle for a local boy and humble life. Too much to accept that her only Grade 8 education could stand in the way of her getting a Master’s degree. Too much to allow old age to stop her from translating and publishing books. She was so much different than her peers. Too much?

My father was also too much. Far too much. Too much to let WWII stand in the way of his desire to study and teach. Too much to allow the harsh realities of starting a new life in America to sidetrack his dream. Too much to shy away from publishing in three languages and starting a brand-new university. Too much to ever stand in awe of anyone. My father was the most too-much person I have ever known.

And then there’s my sister. Also way too much. Not too much loud or rambunctious or brazen like her younger sibling but too much drive. Too much ambition. Too much initiative and enterprise. They probably called her too aggressive, too domineering, maybe even too bitchy … because she was a woman rising to the top of a male-dominated field. Damn, am I ever proud of her.

I guess the problem with my own personal “too much” is that it goes to my emotional attributes. Or flaws, depending on who you are asking. I am often chastised for being too honest, too open, too fervent in my desire to get to the nitty gritty of any person or any situation. I am too hungry for ardent authenticity. Too impatient with posturing and false civility. Too bored by small talk and polite conversation. Too determined to inspire others to reach their full potential as genuine, accountable, passionate humans.

The truth is, some people become instantly attracted to this side of me. Some people long to tap into this raging river of intensity. Some people enthusiastically attach themselves to my frenzied foray through life, eager to sample whatever heightened sensations they have been missing.

Until they waver. Until they rethink. Until they bail.

Because I am too much.

I recently posted a quote on Facebook because it resounded deeply – “Please don’t be attracted to my light and later attempt to dim it.” I suppose I could add, “Please don’t be attracted to my light and then blame my illumination for your blindness.”

This reminds me of my musical youth, when the boys in the band never had any trouble attracting the ladies. Fun fact: women love musicians. Until they marry them. Then, if they are not super-successful, they are desperate for them to STOP being musicians. They want income, stability, a medical plan and a mortgage. I have seen this SO many times.

Fall in love with the light. Then try to dim it.

There will be no dimming with me. I have worked far too long, constructively and consciously to arrive where I now sit comfortably. If I am not your cup of tea, so be it. I am quite certain I am someone else’s champagne.

If I am “too much” then I accept that accolade as the world’s brightest compliment. But the truth is, I do not believe it. And neither should you. If someone … anyone … ever tells you that you are too much, you can take to the bank that it is not true.

They are quite simply … not enough.

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What Are the 2 Most Important Elements of a Love Relationship? Same for Friendship? You Might Be Surprised …

Posted on January 20, 2025 by winesoakedramblings - The Blog of Vickie van Dyke

I will admit to being a pretty impatient Instagram scroller, so when I come to something vaguely interesting I might stop, watch for a few seconds and then just keep going. Such was the case with a Mel Robbins (love her) clip, wherein she discussed romantic love. “Does it truly require a spark?” she queried. In order for romantic love to ignite and then survive, is that initial flicker a prerequisite?

I’m not entirely sure but I think she said, “No.”

What I am entirely sure of is this – the 2 words she offered as necessities for long-lasting union:

Admiration and Consideration.

    We need to admire our partners (daily) and they need to show consideration of us (also daily). Of course, this also means we hope they admire us and we show consideration TO them. But since we are only in charge of our own actions, let’s focus on the former.

    Do you admire your partner? And why is admiration so damned important?

    (Confession: I didn’t get any further in the Mel Robbins podcast, so the following thoughts are my own.)

    Admiration: a feeling of wonder, pleasure or approval.

    Of course we want to feel such things about our chosen one! And typically, that initial spark is inflamed by those very feelings. My admiration for my beloved began with the knowledge that he has a PhD. It continued when I learned he was an accomplished and enthusiastic mountaineer and scuba diver. It further blossomed when I saw some of his original art. And now, when he rarely participates in any of the above, my admiration continues when I witness his wood-turning and dog-loving.

    We can admire a person for any number of reasons, whether career accomplishment, natural talent or the ability and willingness to love freely and fully. And yes, it is absolutely vital that our admiration not only endures but thrives. Even if what we admire changes, our admiration of our life-mate must not wane. Because when it does, we are left looking at a stranger. A hollow shell. An unextraordinary human who is incapable of capturing our heart. A romantic relationship must be special.

    As for consideration, I did listen to a podcast with a world-famous divorce lawyer (James Sexton, love him too). He asserts that lack of consideration is the FIRST sign that your relationship is crumbling. When those small acts of attentiveness and kindness evaporate, there goes the union! This can go to something as profound as frequency of sex to something as seemingly inconsequential as unloading the dishwasher. What is important is that consideration is maintained to the highest standard. Because we may get ill-treated at work or even by friends and family but we should believe that at home, with our lover, we are safe and … considered.

    As for that spark, I DO believe it is a necessary inauguration. But we all know flames dwindle without oxygen. And the oxygen of a relationship may quite possibly be – admiration and consideration.

    So … what about friendship? What are the 2 simple words that define friendship?

    For this, I go to my good friend Michelle, who revealed them to me during a wine-soaked phone call.

    Respect. Communication.

    These are the 2 essential ingredients, mandatory to every successful friendship.

    We must respect not only our friends but the actual friendship itself. A friendship is a sacred union between two individuals, a covenant designed to deliver trust, safety and harmony. We are not talking a mere acquaintanceship here. We are talking affinity in the truest sense of the word. Intimacy on an emotional level that is rare and divine. When that bond is established, respecting it becomes paramount. Because it is beautiful.

    Respect does not mean never yelling or always being agreeable or never having a difference of opinion or keeping negative thoughts to yourself. Respect means honouring the underlying bones of the friendship no matter which way the wind blows.

    Which leads to …

    Communication.

    Because the best (and easiest) way to honour any friendship is to connect regularly, honestly and thoughtfully. When we lose communication or it dissipates for unknown reasons, we start creating narratives in our own minds completely unfettered from reality. A one-sided conversation (the one in your head) will never teach you anything nor will it ever solve a two-person dilemma. Authentic communication between two people just might. Which is why contact and conversation are vital.

    The problem is, sometimes we confuse respect and communication. Case in point: I had a very dear, long-time friend who, when going through a severely troublesome time in her life, “abused” our friendship. I put “abused” in quotation marks only because that is my hindsight revelation. At the time, and during the five years of this exploitation, she felt she could call me ten times a day, any or every day, with no regard for me or my life. HER life and HER problems were paramount until ultimately, she drained me of my empathy reservoir.

    The thing is, I let it happen.

    Eventually she moved away and quite suddenly, the constant barrage of “communication” stopped. Like, cold-turkey stopped. I was a little relieved and then … concerned. What the heck happened? Had she been abducted into a cult? She was a dear friend, after all, and I was completely at a loss. I reached out several times via email and text with little more than “I’m busy” coming back at me. Finally, one evening after a 2nd glass of wine, I called her. I demanded an explanation. I cried and maybe wailed a bit. You have to remember, she had depleted me completely and now … discarded me?

    She accused me of disrespect.

    Because I was yelling at her.

    And this is what I mean when I purport that people confuse communication and disrespect.

    When you respect a friendship, you CONSIDER the other person, their life apart from you, their life with you, the bond you have created, the history you have shared and the forgiveness you will both, at times, offer.

    And you communicate. Not roller-coaster drama and not selfish-silence and not kindergarten-pouting. You communicate lovingly like the adults you are. This is possibly best served pre-wine consumption.

    Funny. I just used consideration – the love word – for friendship. Admiration works for friendship too. It’s always good to regard one’s friends in high esteem, for whatever reason.

    Much like it is good to be respectful and communicative in a love relationship. Good and wise.

    And so, there you go … just 4 simple words to run your life. Two different gurus – Mel and Michelle – charting our path forward with an uncomplicated map.

    Will the journey be effortless? Nope. Might these guidelines be helpful?

    Sometimes simple is smart. So yes. I think so.

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    If You Could Curtail the (Intellectual) Effects of Aging, Would You?

    Posted on January 15, 2025 by winesoakedramblings - The Blog of Vickie van Dyke

    Turns out you can. And it’s a pretty simple strategy:

    Do. New. Stuff.

    Because doing new stuff, putting yourself into unfamiliar situations, learning different skills and breaking free from routine WILL rewire your brain. And keep you young.

    It’s called neuroplasticity. “The capacity of the brain to develop new neuronal connections.” And it would appear that the more new connections we forge, the brighter our brain becomes, keeping us curious, informed and … young.

    Just think back to our youth, when information was flying at us at warp speed. It seemed impossible to keep up but damnit, we did our best and we just kept evolving and growing. Advanced education? Sure, teach me how to learn to learn without the threat of punishment. Have a baby? Huge learning curve, this caring for another human being thing. Sustaining a positive love relationship? Oh yeah, if you’re paying attention you’re learning something new every day. Changing jobs, climbing the corporate ladder, buying your first car or house … all very large lessons.

    And then we reach our senior years. And so much of the learning stops.

    I guess we reckon we’ve done it all and there is nothing left to study. Or we are comfortable in our routines and upheaval causes anxiety. We fear variation because we fear the unknown. Who knows? Maybe it all comes down to our ultimate fear of death – the great unknown. We decide that if we can control our everyday environment and keep it safe, predictable and manageable, we just might be able to cheat the Grim Reaper.

    Highly unlikely.

    Plus, the downside of overregulation is the disappearance of neuroplasticity. Cause baby, if you don’t use it, you lose it. And once you slip into intellectual inertia, physical stagnation is just a hop and skip behind. Suddenly you feel old.

    My mother was an active walker in her early life but numerous health challenges rendered her far less mobile in her later years. That did not stop her brain from operating in overdrive. She learned how to use a computer at 70 because word processing was so much easier than typing and she was writing a book! In her late 70s she succumbed to the lure of the internet because emails were instant and Googling was fun! By 90 she was on Facebook because she had just published her third book and it seemed like a great promotional tool.

    Her third book.  At 90.

    She also played killer FreeCell every day and kept track of the games she could not conquer so that she could return until she did. After she had read the daily newspaper cover to cover.

    My mother was a shining example of neuroplasticity in action and she was in full control of her faculties until a week before her death at 93, when the ravages of (much-needed) pain medication put her into dementia.

    So what can YOU do to get those neurons reconnecting, reconfiguring, bursting with interest and keeping you young?

    Do. New. Stuff.

    New.

    Different.

    Unfamiliar.

    Maybe even a little scary.

    Travel. Eat foreign foods, meet exotic people and at least try to speak the language. Sure, that all-inclusive week on your favourite beach might give you the break you think you require, but if you want to rewire your brain to keep you young and vibrant, go somewhere totally new and experience a completely alien culture. With an open mind.

    Learn a new language. (See above.) My 32-year-old son and I just started online Spanish lessons. Why? Because we want to. And because he wants to keep his momma young. And because I know a wonderful Mexican woman who is willing to teach us.

    Play a musical instrument. Take singing lessons. Sign up for an art class or cooking lessons. It is never too late to follow your passions. Try writing something personal. Or reading a new author or new genre of book. Every time I write a blog I feel neuroplasticity. Because first I am compelled to learn, then analyze and then finally express coherently. It is always stimulating.

    Do puzzles that challenge your intellect. Play brain games at advanced levels. Games that demand both mathematical and lingual engagement. I have carried on my mother’s FreeCell obsession (plus two other daily solitaire tests) and I play Scrabble against my iPad frequently. Some may look at this as wasted time at worst or leisure activity at best, but I look at it all as a workout. As important to my health as walking every day and eating fresh foods.

    Which leads to mediation and mindfulness, also highly valuable tools in our quest for brain growth and reorganization. The more in touch you are with your brain, the more available your brain will be for you.

    And that is exactly what you want if you desire a youthful mindset. To be young at heart. To feel fresh and vibrant and curious.

    Familiar is easy. Routine is orderly. The usual is usually the same. Repetition teaches you nothing unless you are repeating something brand new, in the hopes of mastering it. Then just feel those neurons plasticizing (yes, I just made up that word)!

    As we age, this is a choice we make every single day. And if you are one of those folks who proclaims, “Getting old sucks!” then go ahead … I dare you, just try something new.

    Your older self will thank you for it.

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    Cleaning Up the Mess of Christmas

    Posted on January 3, 2025 by winesoakedramblings - The Blog of Vickie van Dyke

    This is that most wonderful time of year when we hear a lot of folks complaining about cleaning up the detritus of the holiday season. So much mess! So much work! No fun at all!

    Sure, taking down the tree isn’t nearly as much fun as putting it up. Getting rid of those outdoor lights is even less fun if it is bitterly cold and snowing. If you’re dealing with new toys, old toys, wrapping paper that cannot be recycled and greenery that has embedded itself into your carpet, the to-do list goes on and on. Oh my, what a chore the dissolution of Christmas can be.

    Or not.

    It actually does not need to be a chore at all. It’s all in your approach.

    I love the festive season so I decorate early (mid-November). I am also typically done with the festive season on Boxing Day (which I believe was invented because that is the day we should box up all our merry stuff and store it away for another year). So, do I dismantle the mantlepiece the day after Christmas?

    Nope. I may take down a few decorations and I may continue to do that every day until the new year … just a wee bit at a time. I don’t decide that one day is “Christmas Is Over” day. I just slowly but surely remove every holiday accoutrement until the only thing left is the tree.

    The tree is the thing. Because for the past two years we have decorated the tree on Christmas Day when my son arrives and so I never feel like I’ve had quite enough time with it. I love the white lights and the shimmering old ornaments, and that love does not dissipate on Boxing Day. So the tree stays … until finally, on one random day in January, I haul out the tissue paper and bauble boxes and slowly, lovingly pack these treasures away.

    For me, this is almost a holy ritual. Because as I pack them away, I am reminded that next year … next Christmas … could be an entirely different experience. Who knows what in our lives will change? Which loved ones will pass on, what tragedies could befall us, what horrors the world will face, what friendships might not survive?

    Anything could happen – good and bad – and I am fully aware that in that exact moment, the moment of storing precious memories for another year, the future is a complete mystery. So I immerse myself in gratitude. Gratitude for the season that has just passed. Gratitude for the loved ones I have celebrated with and gratitude for the love and friendship that was shared. Gratitude for the blessings that abound in my life and gratitude for the joy the Christmas season always brings to those I hold dear. I express that thankfulness with a full heart as each special ornament is tucked away in tissue, hopefully safe until the season comes round again.

    For me, the cleaning up of Christmas is bittersweet. The bitter – not knowing what next year will bring. The sweet – not knowing what next year will bring but knowing that a new year has begun and new stories are waiting to be written.

    So do not bemoan the mess of this past holiday season. Put the mess away with as much love and gratitude as your heart can hold. The Christmas mess is a beautiful reminder of how fortunate we are.

    I am already looking forward to next year.

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    Christmas Décor – Do You Do It with Style or With Love?

    Posted on December 6, 2024 by winesoakedramblings - The Blog of Vickie van Dyke

    Many years ago I was invited to a very swanky Christmas party in Nashville. The neighbourhood was ritzy and the home was stunning. And then there was the Christmas tree. It was tall and full and merrily festooned. In orange and purple. Yes, only orange and purple. A definite designer tree that looked like someone had vomited Halloween and Easter onto it.

    As all the other guests oohed and ahed, I stood in disbelief. To me, this was not a Christmas tree. It was some avant garde fashion statement attached with military precision to an artificial soldier.

    I hated it.

    And I thought about my own trees, throughout the years. Growing up it was always a balsam. The baubles were individual and exquisite. I remember the year my sister and I were gifted sparkly pink and blue birds – our very own decorations! The lights were always multi-coloured and icicles were the finishing touch. No one gave much thought to landfill in those days; we wanted glitter! We didn’t add garlands or bows. It was all about the ornaments.

    Apart from that, a front-door wreath and a few plastic corsages that my mother hung on lampshades, our home was pretty bare of festive folly. The tree was IT!

    My grandmother’s tree was almost identical and, eventually I would gratefully inherit both my parents’ and her ornaments. Over the years some have perished but most of them are still unwrapped with great delight every season. And my 31-year-old son still hangs them on the real tree (which we cut down ourselves) with childlike glee. Our lights may now be all-white and we don’t add tinsel anymore, but every single trinket tells a tale. Those memories are precious.

    Which leads me to the rest of my festive décor. I have adopted colour-schemes in the past, like the year my furniture was blue, pink and grey so all adornments were silver, black and pink. It was lovely and pretty and very chic. And that was okay for one or two seasons. But I will admit that once I moved to a different house with different furniture and was able to return to traditional red/green decor, I was thrilled! Turns out I am a classic kind of gal, enamored of long-established customs.

    I love real greens, augmented with red berries. I decorate my palm trees with twinkle lights. I have a small silver tree, only because when I was a kid I thought only rich people could have them and I always wanted one. I have Santas and reindeer and candles and that old-fashioned ceramic tree that glows thanks to a light bulb. My son has given me various trimmings over the years and they all hold a special place. And we have changed up our personalized stockings a time or two, to accommodate life’s comers and goers. (I keep them all just in case a goer comes back).

    Then there’s the real tree. Tall and sparse, to show off those cherished ornaments. Last year it didn’t even get decorated until Christmas Day because that is when my son showed up.

    Tradition.

    Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying a designer Christmas can’t be nice. Even stunning. And expensive. It’s just not for me. When I twinkle up the house every evening and turn on my extensive Christmas playlist, I am filled with joy. And love. And great anticipation for my son’s arrival. I can’t wait to share the season with him and watch his face as he experiences everything old as if it is new again. Maybe I add a fresh thing or two. Maybe I don’t. There is still wonder in the yearly discovery.

    To me, Christmas décor is love. It doesn’t need a theme or a colour-scheme and it doesn’t have to match. It just needs to mean something. Not to a magazine or social media or an interior designer.

    To my family. My friends. And me.

    My Christmas décor is love. Hopefully with a bit of style.

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    Are You Rational, Irrational or Just Plain Crazy?

    Posted on November 28, 2024 by winesoakedramblings - The Blog of Vickie van Dyke

    I recently came upon an Instagram video featuring Canadian physician and author Gabor Mate (whose work I love). I was instantly intrigued by his premise that there are basically only 3 responses to a “challenging” relationship. Two of them are rational. One is irrational. Naturally I don’t remember exactly what he said but I think I recall enough to share with you. And … possibly help you understand how absolutely irrational YOU might be. I offer this with utmost sincerity because I can assure you his words slammed me upside the head and made ME realize that I myself was – perhaps – just plain crazy.

    So here we go.

    You are in a challenging relationship. Maybe your mate isn’t living up to your expectations? Maybe you and a friend have had a disagreement? Maybe you don’t understand why a family member is ignoring you or dismissing you? Maybe a colleague is driving you nuts? Whatever the situation, you are feeling challenged. Impugned. And you need something to change.

    Rational Response #1

    Set Boundaries. Explain to the perpetrator that you will no longer participate in whatever drama is causing you grief. Excuse yourself from behaviour or ideas that offend you. Make your needs and values clear and then set up goal posts that allow you to defend them without hostility. Be clear, kind and firm. Alter the parameters of your relationship so that YOU no longer feel slighted, alienated or maligned. In other words, protect yourself.

    Rational Response #2

    Leave. End the relationship. If the struggle is too much, too often, too difficult and too harmful … depart. End the relationship. Not every bond will last. Nor should they. Affiliations ebb and flow as we evolve and grow and not every alliance will stand the test of time. It’s okay to say farewell. And mean it. Fare well. Just not in my orbit, thank you.

    And now … the Irrational Response (aka the most popular)

    Please change. Please be more like I want you to be. Please alter your behaviour. Adjust your psyche. Revise your beliefs. Modify your actions and correct all the problems which I have noticed and now brought to your attention. In other words … I am right and you are wrong and therefore you must change.

    Irrational.

    Because as we all know, no one is ever going to change for YOU. People only change for themselves; when the prospect (and results) of their repeated behaviour causes repeated anguish to THEM … THAT is when people change. It is absolutely irrational for you to offer this directive as a solution and actually expect it to work. It might inspire a few alterations but those BIG changes … nope.

    Irrational.

    So think about this the next time you are facing a relationship challenge. As the old saying goes, there are many things in life you can’t control, but you can always control your response. YOU are in charge of your response. Your response is your choice.

    I am now making a concerted, everyday effort to choose Rational. When you break it down to those 2 options, the simplicity of the exercise becomes apparent. No more spinning in the vortex of uncertainty. No more wishing (or begging) for miracles. No more trying to play God. It just makes so much sense to regulate yourself and not anyone else.

    One might call it … judicious. Logical. Sensible. Wise.

    Maybe even … rational.

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    Best Friends Don’t Leave Over the Phone

    Posted on October 25, 2024 by winesoakedramblings - The Blog of Vickie van Dyke

    Or

    What is the best (and worst) way to end a relationship?

    My talented son, singer-songwriter Sam Drysdale, just released a new record – “Any Other Season.” It’s actually two records. Two versions of the same original song. The “Spring” rendition is melancholy. Sad. Questioning and resigned.

    The “Winter” version begins in the same pensive manner but by the end, man, does he get angry. Fully pissed off and unforgiving. With good reason. She has left him several times and every.single.time she departs when he is down. Dispirited. Possibly in need of support. But nope. This particular pendulum always swings the same way: UP = I’m here and DOWN = adios.

    This adios is a big one, culminating in the song’s killer line: “Best friends don’t leave over the phone.”

    Best friends.

    Maybe they were?  But even if they were not, WHO the hell breaks up a serious, long-term relationship on the phone? Who is so cowardly, so self-absorbed, so insensitive and so spineless they cannot spare a few precious moments to offer dissolution in person? With awareness and empathy? Maybe even love.

    Oh wait, I know who! The love of my life. The man for whom I left my husband and for whom I altered my life profoundly and irrevocably. Yeah, that guy. Twenty years ago, after leaving me 3 times (always in person), and after returning 3 times (much to my delight), he finally left me for good … on the phone.

    We talked for two hours. We cried and bargained and sputtered truths and tried to make sense and then … it was over. On the phone, with miles of nothing but Wichita Lineman between us, it was over.

    When I think about Sam’s song and I wonder, “Who does that?” … I remember.

    What the hell is wrong with people? Are their hearts frozen?  Do they feel no compassion? Have I myself ever been so tactless and cold?

    My first breakup (16) was in person, at a drive-in movie.

    My second (19) was in the front seat of my boyfriend’s car, in my parents’ driveway.

    Third was in a hotel room in Regina.

    Fourth was in my boyfriend’s den.

    And fifth (and sixth) – both with my ex-husband, were very much in person.

    Some of these breakups were tear-filled sob-fests. Some were angry and dramatic. Some were resigned and sad. But they were ALWAYS done in person. Always.

    Perhaps this goes back to my 17th year when I experienced my own first, not-in-person, heart-shattering farewell. Except there was no fare or well. There was no phone call, letter, quick conversation at the bar or thirdhand message from a friend. The man I had been “seeing” for 4 months ghosted me. I don’t believe that term even existed back then but that is exactly what he did. I got ghosted.

    Alas, 5 years his junior, I was far too shy to call up and say WTF? And so that particular ghosting has stood the test of time.  Ghosted forever (by him) I shall be.

    The pain was pretty profound. The unknowing was pretty unbearable. But it was the unfathomable truth that I was not even worth a good-bye assignation, well, that is what ruined me. Because the simple truth is if your beloved can ditch you the “easy” way, what does that tell you about everything that came before? All those years? All those beliefs? All the love you thought was real?

    That feckless lover I mentioned, phone-coward weakling that he was, confessed he couldn’t dump me in person because he would be incapable of following through. Damn, I must be pretty extraordinary. Do I have secret powers of persuasion I am unaware of? Maybe my son’s musical inspiration felt the same? Was she afraid he might talk her into staying? Did she not trust her own inclinations? Had she not thought this through? Was she unsure?

    Geez.

    I only have one thing to say to that: if you are absolutely certain a relationship is over and you have decided it is YOU who must end it then you most certainly should somehow muster up the courage (or decency) to do it in person. I mean, come on! You’re already the bad guy. You’re already breaking hearts and shattering dreams. Surely you can find some tiny ounce of compassion somewhere in your bloodless veins? Surely you can pull up those big-kid panties and act like a mature adult? Surely you can suck up all the poor-me-pathetic-posturing that allows you to believe you are somehow a victim when you KNOW that you are NOT. Surely you can at least try to walk a mile in the shoes you are about to set on fire.

    Surely.

    Do not break up on the phone.

    Do not break up on a post-it note.

    Do not break up in a text.

    Do not break up in an email.

    Own your decision like a grownup, remember the person you are about to pulverize is someone you once loved and then … show up.

    It’s all about respect. And you may think it’s about respecting your beloved – and it is – but is more about respecting yourself. And you will. Especially down the road.

    There is no glory in going the easy way out. No joy in cutting corners for cowardice. No pride in prioritizing your preservation.

    Be honest. But be human. Be kind. Be loving.

    Remember – Best friends don’t leave over the phone.

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