I have a daughter named Jasmine, who has been my greatest teacher of Nonviolent Communication (NVC), the method I teach. From her early years, she presented challenges that tested my ability to practice what I preached.
My journey with NVC began when my children were around two years old, right in the midst of what is known as the "terrible twos." It is the age when children realize and begin to assert their individuation process , and to practice a basic need for all of us: autonomy. In my search for strategies to meet that challenge. An article by Inbal Kashtan in the American Mothering magazine sparked my interest. I dreamt of nurturing a relationship with my children based on close, open, inclusive, and empathetic communication. I longed for trust to be the cornerstone of our relationship, with a deep understanding that their needs were paramount to me. I was determined to break free from the cycle of criticism, comparisons, and guilt that had marked my own upbringing.
While empathy played a significant role in our interactions, there were also moments of conflict—quarrels, shouting, tears, and the burden of guilt and criticism. In my writing, particularly in "The Jackal's Diary," I reflected on events with Jasmine, often realizing my own failures to apply NVC principles consistently. Jasmine, with her unwavering honesty, would sometimes call me out, questioning how I could teach NVC yet struggle to apply it within our relationship.
With those closest to us, implementing change can be the most challenging. Over the years, tensions escalated, leading to a breaking point. My son's words, "You two must not live together," echoed the strain that had developed between Jasmine and me. It was a painful realization that prompted me to reassess our relationship.
Fast forward to today—Jasmine is almost 21 years old and has begun her journey away from home. During the first lockdown in Israel, she spent seven months in the Netherlands, a time that filled me with fear and uncertainty. But she returned, and together we made the decision to seek therapy.
In therapy, we confronted our pain, bringing up past grievances and navigating through anger. Together, we learn and practice the core lesson of compassionate communication. There are moments when I falter, reacting defensively or taking things personally. But with the guidance of our therapist, who reminds me of NVC principles and ensures a safe space for both of us, I remember to breathe and respond with empathy. I express my feelings and needs, fostering understanding and closeness between us.
In one session, our therapist shared a poem in Hebrew about motherhood that deeply resonated with me. It spoke to the complexities of my relationship with Jasmine and mirrored my experiences with my own mother.
Our journey with NVC and each other is ongoing, with many lessons still ahead of us. Despite the challenges, I am grateful for the growth and understanding that have emerged from our shared commitment to compassionate communication.
“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”
- Rumi
