What the Dictionary Can’t Tell You About Emotions and Feelings: The Great Emotional Illusion

We all interpret life differently.

Is there a difference between feelings and emotions?

Until recently, I hadn’t given it any mindshare. But the question infiltrated my thoughts the other week, creating a cavernous space for deep thought.

Yes, I believe there is a difference.

We probably don’t give it much thought, but the dictionary is constantly expanding. 

What? Where’s this going, Alex?

I’ve got you. Stick with me.

Every once in a while, I read an article about all the new words that are added to the dictionary. I’ve seen such articles many times. I suppose the new words are added every time the publisher produces a new edition. I also suppose that dictionaries used to be a lot smaller, with fewer words.

Words define things. If I say doctor, for example, your definition of a doctor pops up in your thoughts. You begin to associate the word with a variety of meanings and experiences, formulating a specific image and image association with the word.

What doctor means to you is different than what it means to me. Admittedly, we agree on a loose interpretation of the word, but our associations are necessarily different, based on our differing experiences and a multitude of factors that include such variables as culture and bias.

I can’t describe what I’m feeling.

Ironically, the word feeling is impossible to define by definition. Think about it: How do you define a feeling? 

You can’t. It’s a damn feeling.

You can only feel a feeling.

But an emotion… that’s something that can be defined.

Sadness is an emotion. So is anger. Both are easily defined.

But there’s a problem with definitions: They’re limiting. 


From courtrooms, to classes, to books, words squeeze ideas (oftentimes big ideas) into little letters and short definitions. Definitions are argued about, debated, misinterpreted, appropriated, and skewed. Plato fictionalized the account of Thoth’s (the Egyptian God of writing, among other things) invention of writing in his work Phaedrus by having the Egyptian King Thamus say, "You have invented an elixir not of memory, but of reminding; and you offer your pupils the appearance of wisdom, not true wisdom."

The nuance between memory and reminding is astonishingly profound. The implication centers around Truth.

Experience is the mother of wisdom.

Now we get to the difference between feelings and emotions.

I can’t dispute how you feel… ever.

And you can’t dispute how I feel.

Our feelings are valid. They represent Truth.

However, we may debate one another’s emotions or emotional state. 

Any time we deal with something that’s defined, we move into the worlds of interpretation and perception. And in those worlds, there are no universal truths.

The problem with emotions is that they are manufactured and subjugated. When you say, “I’m anxious,” you’ve just labeled a feeling. 

BIG mistake.

Instead of working with your feeling (or feelings), you boxed yourself in. You contained the feeling with a word that can’t possibly encompass the boundless richness of your feeling.

The solution? 

Stop defining. Experience, instead. 

Words are overrated.

But if you’re going to use words, I offer you this simple suggestion: Make your own definitions. The Oxford English Dictionary doesn’t own your perceptions unless you allow it to do so.

I feel myself learning. It’s exhilarating.

What I learned from my exercise in deep thought is that, oftentimes, I don’t experience my feelings. Instead, I label them and enter the world of ambiguity and definitions. And that place sucks. It inhibits me from experiencing the infinite lessons and Truths that accompany every feeling. In the space of feelings, I am free to explore and to learn. And in that space, similar to walking through a forest, I move from one incredible discovery to another, bewildered by the vastness of possibility, seeing and feeling something new around every bend.

So, what about that expanding dictionary?

There’s an inverse relationship between words and feelings. The more words we acquire to define our feelings, the less we feel. I guess that means the wider the dictionary gets, the thinner the experience. 

I feel, therefore I am.