Several days ago, I emailed my sister to let her know I’d be in town and asked if we could get together. Today I received her reply: she would be leaving that very morning for Tassajara Hot Springs and wouldn’t be able to meet.
The moment I read her email, these thoughts flashed through my mind:
“Tassajara…I’m the one who goes to Tassajara, not my sister.”
“That’s not her kind of place—she’s too conservative for Tassajara.”
“She’ll have to drive through my town to get there. Why didn’t she tell me she was passing through—or invite me to join her?”
My body contracted. My breathing became shallow. Welcome aboard the Jackal Train.
Thankfully, I’ve been a meditator for most of my adult life and an NVC practitioner for the past nine years. I’ve learned to observe my Jackal—what Eckhart Tolle calls the Pain Body. I’m not always successful, but it has become easier over time. The periods of contraction are shorter now.
Here’s the process I practice:
Take a breath. Then another. Keep breathing until the contraction softens and the body relaxes.
Notice what the egoic mind is attaching itself to: comparison, judgment, interrogation.
Breathe. Relax. Soften. Open. Expand.
When I open and expand, I make room for the larger reality of the moment—including my sister’s experience, not just my own.
So what are the observable facts? Simply this: my sister told me she was going to Tassajara.
And what am I feeling? Disappointed. Envious.
Immediately my Jackal jumps back in:
“Those aren’t very nice emotions.”
So I breathe again. I release tension from the body.
Now what is the habit-mind doing? Evaluating my emotions.
What’s needed here? Acceptance. Openness to all emotions, even the uncomfortable ones.
Breathing again. Relaxing. Opening.
I can allow these emotions to exist without condemning them. They are only e-motions—energy in motion—temporary experiences passing through me. Recognizing this helps me loosen the grip of the habitual mind and release its impossible burdens.
So what needs are underneath my reaction to my sister’s trip?
Inclusion. Connection. Fun. Play.
Do I believe these needs are unmet—and that she must meet them? Or can I breathe into the truth that these needs can be met in many ways, not only through her invitation?
I can also mourn what feels absent in this moment. I mourn not being invited to accompany my sister to Tassajara. I mourn that she didn’t tell me she’d be passing through town.
And then another layer appears: grief that we don’t socialize much outside family gatherings. We’re not as close as I sometimes wish we were.
Can I forgive myself for not investing more deeply in this relationship? Can I set an intention to nurture it going forward?
At this point, I ask myself: “After acknowledging your feelings and needs, has anything shifted?”
The answer is an emphatic yes.
I recognize these thoughts as passing through awareness. I don’t have to believe every story my mind tells me. I don’t have to pick up the second arrow and pierce my own heart.
Instead, I can recognize impermanence and refrain from acting out the reactivity of the habit mind.
Now what am I feeling?
More spacious. More alive. More connected to myself. Peaceful.
I wait a few hours until the Jackal Show has ended and I’ve stepped off the Jackal Train. Then I write my sister an email:
“Tassajara? How cool is that! Have a wonderful time!”
And this time, I truly mean it.
How precious my Jackal.