Why are jackals funny?

Ever since I saw Nonviolent Communication trainer Kelly Bryson animate the jackal and giraffe puppets in my first training in 1999, I have been captivated by the imagery and the FUN the puppets have brought to my learning.

I must say, I particularly enjoy wearing the jackal puppet when I play around in trainings, for example when I do role play examples or pretend to "jackal myself" (judge and blame myself, or imply there is something wrong with me).

In fact, in 2007 I led a training in Grand Rapids, MI and my friend (and the workshop's host) Norm Williams, and he commented about how much fun I seemed to have, and how alive I became, when I animated the jackal puppet.

As long as I am operating with an awareness that I am in jackal consciousness, and that I have a choice to be in life-connected consciousness, playing the jackal can be hilarious and energizing! And most of all, funny.

If you have attended NVC trainings, have you ever noticed how funny it seems to others when someone actually lets their jackal messages out of the bag? I have long been struck by this, and found this piece by Gina Lawrie and Bridget Belgrave -- creators of the NVC Dance Floors -- about why jackals are funny:

"Why are jackals funny? There is often a lot of laughter when people express the inner jackal step. We have found that people experience relief through being honest, in jackal, and expressing what is actually already in their minds.

‘Nice’ people normally try to avoid acknowledging that they are thinking in jackal, and put in some effort not to say it out loud. So it releases blocked energy, to voice it, and the relief and recognition brings the laughter.

Also, inner jackals are fairly universal, so many participants will recognise their own suppressed thoughts as they listen to the dancer’s jackal. There is something about naked truth and this jackal honesty that brings laughter. The laughter is often tinged with a squirmy, painful recognition of one’s own unhelpful habits of communication.

Some people laugh out of embarrassment. They think it’s bad even to think in jackal and feel ashamed to admit to doing so. Once there is space to listen compassionately to the jackal voices, suppressed energy surfaces. Some of the laughter may come from that energy coming alive.

You will often see colour come into the dancer’s face and other physical signs that life-energy stirring and rising, when a dancer is on the jackal step. This is one reason why the puppets work so well in a training, as the jackal puppet facilitates this rise and release of energy."

* The preceding quote by Gina and Bridget comes from their Facilitator's Guide for the NVC Dance Floors (which I distribute in North America), which I have learned the most about how to facilitate NVC experiences for others.

The sweetness of Empathy from another

Yesterday, I took the initiative to call a friend and ask for empathy from him. It was incredibly sweet and nurturing for me to have the experience of being heard and seen, totally absent of judgment or any of the forms of communication that block empathy.

Edward Titchenor once defined empathy as, "a sense of kinesthetic imagination," and that is what I experienced from my friend -- that he entered my frame of reference not just in an intellectual sense, but in an active, living way.

This might not seem like a noteworthy event, however for me, it was very significant. While in years past, I regularly set up "empathy calls" with others so that I could receive the healing and nourishing qualities of empathy, in the past couple of years I have been relying almost entirely on myself for empathy.

And while my skills at self-empathy have strengthened, I had virtually forgotten about asking others for empathy -- even when I have been stuck or wallowing in a state of misery.

Upon reflection, I think I know why: I have been "telling myself" that I am an NVC trainer, and that NVC trainers "should" be able to provide empathy for themselves, and that they "shouldn't" have to rely upon empathy from external sources for their well-being.

Yikes! Ouch! That jackal thinking* can be sneaky and pernicious, and in this case my jackals inhibited me getting this precious and life-giving need of empathy fulfilled.

Of course, if I'm not careful, then my jackal mind is likely to "jackal myself" for not being more aware of this before now! This is what I call the, "double jackal syndrome," meaning that once I realize that I have been in jackal thinking, then I judge and blame myself for not knowing any better, or for being a lousy giraffe.

Thankfully, I have awareness in this moment of this syndrome, so I can playfully blog about it. :-)



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* "Jackal" is a playful metaphor we use in NVC to describe any language that separates or alienates us from the life within ourself or others.

NVC gets to the essence of life

Nonviolent Communication (NVC) is a way of life disguised as a communication practice.

Frequently people's entryway into NVC is as a training in communication skills or conflict resolution. While I find this to be true, it barely scratches the surface about the potential and essence of NVC as a spiritual practice or way of life.

More and more, I regard NVC as a, "moment by moment spiritual practice," which requires of me to be in the present moment in every moment. Many spiritual practices teach this concept, so there seems to be some consistency with this idea as leading to a more fulfilling life.

And while I have been influenced by various other spiritual approaches -- for instance Buddhism, meditation, yoga, New Thought/Unity, and others -- there is something about how NVC captures the essence of these spiritualities and presents them in a doable, learnable and teachable format.

I am profoundly grateful to Dr. Marshall Rosenberg, the creator of NVC, for assembling these various spiritual principles into a system that is now formally known as Nonviolent Communication.

Dance of Communication -- two recent events

I just completed a 12-day trip to Columbus, Ohio and Princeton, New Jersey with fellow NVC trainer Gina Lawrie from England. Gina and I co-facilitated two 3-day NVC Dance Floors trainings attended by a total of 60 participants between the two events.

My partner, Rhonda Mills, joined us as an assistant trainer for the Ohio event, at which we not only presented the Dance Floors, but also incorporated a "floating track" for facilitators and people coaching others in NVC processes.

One of my favorite comments ever during a feedback session from a training I led came from Dave Russell (who led a laugher session on one of the breaks) from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, who attended the Ohio training.

Referring to how Gina and I integrated the basic track and more advanced track, I heard Dave say that he deeply appreciated how we combined the tracks -- which are traditionally offered as separate experiences -- and avoided the creation of "haves" and "have nots."

I cherish that comment, because that is one of my deepest wishes is to create a welcoming, inclusive and sacred container for trainings in which to share the precious work of NVC.

Is Mourning a need or a process?

Lately in my own practice of NVC, I have been emphasizing mourning as a means of healing and transformation. The more deeply I delve into mourning, the more richness I am finding.

And truthfully, I have found that empathy alone is often not adequate for me to move through a difficult or painful situation, no matter how clearly I identify my needs, or connect with the energy of them.

It's important for me to fully give myself up to the painful feelings that arise in relation to unmet needs... especially needs that have been chronically unmet, or long-standing unmet needs. So here is my new working definition of "mourning" in NVC language:

Mourning: Being with the feelings associated with unmet needs. Entering fully the experience of these feelings. Surrendering to the process and trusting in your heart's ability to feel pain, and yet you remaining whole in the process. In the mourning, there is healing, freedom and liberation.