Discovering the Connection Between Your Perception of Reality and How You Feel
When trying to understand something, it helps to break it apart, define it specifically, and distinguish it from other things. So often, when discussing facets of the mind, we try to distinguish functions the brain performs and categorize them within their specific attributes. Brain imaging and scans have also determined that different brain regions seem connected to specific traits or functions. So, it is understandable to think of emotions as different or separate from thoughts, memories, or sensations.
But in reality, the brain, being a single unit or organ, functions interconnectedly or in unison with all the hemispheres, regions, and functions. And so, what you feel about a certain thing is completely tied to how you perceive it. How you think about a thing will illicit an emotional response. Conversely, how you feel will affect how you think about an event. Thoughts and feelings are connected, like two sides of the same coin.
With that in mind, your perception of an event will determine your feelings. And your feelings about the event will continue to spur your perception of the event. This is precisely why we can sometimes become engulfed in a certain feeling state, like a feedback loop that spurs each other on. Your perception of an event will elicit an emotion, and that emotion will elicit more thoughts that reinforce the emotion.
However, through meditation, you can gradually gain a more detached, objective perspective as you observe sensations, thoughts, and feelings. So, when thoughts enter your mind, you can observe, not judge, and let them go. Similarly, you can do the same with your emotions. And so, you can feel the emotion, experience it, and rather than hold onto it and drive more thoughts that reinforce it, let it go. This ability to observe your thoughts and emotions gives a person the time needed to take a step back and reconsider the events in a more objective light.
Recently, I had the opportunity to put this through its paces in a real-world scenario.
I find this thing we call life fascinating. It has a way of reminding you that your designs and your plans are not in your control. When you think you’ve got everything worked out, that curve ball comes from out of left field, and your world turns upside down.
This recently happened to me. I was 45 and living my best life. I had recently moved into a newly purchased apartment in a neighborhood I loved and had made an exciting new career change. My routines were firmly established, including daily meditative walks, working daily at my favorite cafes on something I was passionate about, and being comfortable in my new life and home. I was fully happy and content in all aspects of my life. To read more about how I found inner joy, you can go here.
And then, a month into this blissful period, my apartment burned down. Well, not entirely, but the devastation from the fire, smoke, and water used by the firefighters made it absolute. I lost everything. I wasn’t home when it happened. Thanks to the kindness of one of my neighbors, who called the fire department and alerted me, I arrived to see everything in ruins. All I had at that moment was the clothes on my back and, luckily, my backpack with my laptop.
So I said to myself, here is the test to put my mindfulness practice. Of course, I was shocked on the first day, but I didn’t explode or even cry. I knew that, at that moment, resigning myself to any of the emotions one might understandably experience would do nothing to change the reality of my situation. So, I focused on the tasks that would be constructive. I called my insurance, went out and bought some clothes and toiletries, and made arrangements to stay with my parents.
Over the next few days, I realized that all wasn’t lost. I was able to salvage a lot of my equipment and hard drives. Luckily, those items were kept in a closet far enough away from the fire that they weren’t damaged. I also salvaged many of my clothes and sneakers. And I was fortunate enough to have a loving and supportive family who took me in.
In those first few days, I felt sad and even sorry for myself for having experienced such an unfortunate and seemingly unlucky event. After all, I had literally just moved into this new place only eight months earlier. How could this happen?
I recall I was having dinner with my parents, and I was expressing my sorrow for what occurred to me. This was the second night after the event. And my mother, in her best intentions, said not to be depressed. What she was trying to say is not to think about it. She came from a generation whose response to sad or negative emotions was to avoid the feelings, to ignore the trauma, and to bury it. I said to my mom, “No, Mom. This event just occurred two days earlier. It is perfectly ok and good that I feel what I am meant to feel about this event. I am human, after all. And part of being human is to have emotions about such events in one’s life.”
While allowing oneself to experience the feelings associated with a painful or traumatic event is necessary, allowing those emotions to consume one is not helpful. So, I knew it was crucial for me to return to my routines and resume my life as soon as possible. Perhaps it was the first Monday after the event that I returned to my daily life as best as possible. The fire occurred on a Thursday.
On Monday morning, I returned to my favorite café and spent the morning working on my writing. That afternoon, I went for my daily meditative walks, which I had been doing regularly prior to the fire. As I returned to my life, I began putting things in perspective. This didn’t happen overnight—it took a few weeks. But returning to the things that brought me joy allowed me to look at the situation more objectively.
I asked myself what did I really lose?
Yes, I lost many of my possessions. I lost my prized DVD collection, I lost all my furniture, I lost many of the nicknacks I had been amassing over the years, as well as most of my electronics. But did any of those objects make me happy? Sure, they provided comfort and entertainment. Some items, like pictures and memorabilia, had more emotional significance, but how often did I turn to those things? And sure, I lost my own personal space. But that is only temporary. The apartment will eventually be rebuilt, and I’ll have my space back. Is dealing with the aftermath between insurance and reconstruction a huge inconvenience? Sure. Could it be fun? Ok, no, but certainly a new experience, which in and of itself can be viewed as an adventure of sorts.
And what did I still retain? Well, first and foremost, I had my health. Luckily, no one was physically injured by the fire. Having my health, not losing my life, meant that I still had the opportunity to return to the things that brought me joy and to rebuild that life I once had. What were those things that brought me joy? They’re actually very simple. A warm cup of matcha. Dark Chocolate. Long walks. Working out. Reading. My work. Meditation. Spending time with friends and family. I still had all those things in my life. So then I asked myself, what did I really lose? The answer is not that much. Nothing that truly mattered.
And so, relatively quickly, I was able to return back to that state of joy and fulfillment I once had before the fire. Sure, things related to the fire may frustrate or annoy me at the moment, as I’m still dealing with the ramifications of that event and may continue to do so for some time. But those annoyances are transitory, too.
What is key here is that our perception of an event, once influenced by our emotions, is unlikely to reflect reality or capture the entire picture of that event. Understanding that our perspective or outlook affects how we feel—since the two are intertwined—implies that we have the ability and agency to guide our own emotions rather than be controlled by them.
If I had focused solely on the negative outcomes of the fire, fixating on what I had lost or the resulting inconveniences, I would have remained in a depressed state for a longer time. However, by taking a step back through the meditative practice of observation, I was able to assess objectively with a clear mind not only what was lost but also what I still retained that truly mattered to me. With a fuller, objective view of the event, I could let the negative emotions associated with it pass more quickly and return to moments of joy and peace.
While we have no control over the curve balls life throws at us, we do have the ability to determine how we perceive those events and, thus, how we feel about them.