Emotions vs Thoughts: Understanding Their Relationship to Write Better- Verlin Darrow

In my opinion, feelings inhabit a distinctly different realm than the one in which thoughts reside. The two operate in markedly dissimilar fashion as well. I'm going to use the terms feelings and emotions interchangeably, and the same with thought, cognition, and mind, despite some distinctions between them.

I liken the contrast between feelings and thoughts to the more obvious schism between waking and dream life. In the realm of dreams, for example, time and space are variable and people regularly morph into one another. Anything we can imagine happening can manifest in a dream. Waking life is more rule bound and sequential, as well as much more impervious to our creative manipulation. In each of these realms there's an intrinsic consistency at work -- nothing's going wrong as events unfold in accordance with a given realm's rules. It's only from the vantage point of waking life that dreams seem patently crazy, and vice versa to some degree.

So it is with emotions and thought. While they both arise as internal experience, serve evolutionary purposes, and can either enrich or bedevil us depending on the circumstances, the resemblance ends there.

Feelings bubble up as energy that we can sense in our bodies. We might feel physical tension or heat in our gut or our face, for example. We might find our facial features have rearranged themselves. Are we wincing? Smiling? Looking away? The body's responses to the physical sensations that arise form patterns. Shame, for example, tends to entail flushing, gazing down, and hunching or becoming smaller. The fight-or-flight mode usually entails a patterned response as well. We unconsciously trigger glands that produce adrenaline, and a host of physical changes follow. Once the feeling and the accompanying sensations are set in motion, they can embark on a course of their own. Each iteration gives birth to a unique energy; thus no two sadnesses are identical; no two experiences of joy share the same constellation of characteristics. Like bodiless aliens in science fiction stories, these 'energy beings' promote their own agendas that are sometimes baffling to a flesh-and-blood species such as ourselves.

What are the goals of emotions? What purpose do they serve? I think this varies, but all of them are directing our attention to the matter at hand. If they could talk, they'd say things like "watch out!", "something's wrong," "savor this moment," "you need to spring into action," or "be careful." They're like an extremely subjective commentary on our experience, influencing us based on what matters to them, which usually has its roots in evolutionary survival.

I do think the overwhelming majority of feelings are catalyzed by perceptions and thoughts -- mental processes. And if we reorient ourselves to the world around us -- interpret life differently -- we can reconfigure our emotional selves. But again, once the feelings emerge for whatever reason, the mind is somewhat at a loss. It simply isn't in a position to understand a context as alien to its own as the one that emerging emotions bring into being.

Several dynamics tend to be generated when ignorance rules a relationship (such as the one between the mind and feelings). For one thing, in this instance, thought has to reduce down whatever parts of the emotional realm are beyond its grasp. In computer terms, it's as though we are applying an algorithm to compress an input that embodies excessive or incomprehensible data. We can only think with thoughts; that which is non-thought must be converted to thought before we can even consider it. But what gets lost when we use an analogue version of the feeling (only what it means to the mind)? The essence of an emotion is not whether it makes sense to feel it, whether we like feeling it, whether we should act on it, or any other thought-driven response to the energy that has arisen. Feelings are a process -- the process of experiencing them for what they are. Independent of mind, these encounters are significant and have the power to shift us. When we've been flooded with awe or grief, for example, how many of us remain exactly the same?

Another tendency of the mind’s ignorance is to devalue whatever it doesn't comprehend. In the currency of thought, feeling isn't worth much, is it? In fact, the syndrome goes beyond this. Mind judges emotion as irrational -- a threat to one of its basic operating principles. But feelings are neither rational nor irrational; I would describe them as a-rational. They exist outside of the realm in which such a concept exists. Nonetheless, we often disregard or outright dismiss anything that seems to challenge our logic-based cognition.

Now none of this would constitute a problem except that the mind has appointed itself the CEO of the rest of us. (Like much of what I'm writing about, this phenomenon varies somewhat from culture to culture -- please forgive my over-generalizing to make a point). And I'm not claiming that there's another part of us that's more qualified to hold this position. Here's where the trouble lies: as many chief executives are prone to do, the mind has lost sight of its native limitations. It's well-qualified for some tasks, but very poorly ill-equipped for others, including emotional regulation. How could we improve this administrative function? First, by humbly evaluating our track record and recognizing that we may need some remedial work to gain expertise. Second, we can open up to the idea that we may currently be undervaluing or misunderstanding our feelings. It is arrogance that often blocks movement in these directions, so divesting or at least reducing our arrogance is a prerequisite.

Personally, I find this quite challenging, but the more I keep these things in mind, the more my characters come alive. Real people are complex and the relationship of their emotions and thoughts often defines them. I need to incorporate this element in my writing or face the consequences—uninterested readers.

Verlin Darrow is a psychotherapist who lives with his psychotherapist wife in La Selva Beach in northern California. They diagnose each other as necessary. He is a former professional volleyball player, country-western singer/songwriter, import store owner, NCAA coach, and an assistant guru in a small, benign cult. A younger Verlin ran a punch press in a sheetmetal factory, drove a taxi, worked as a night janitor, shoveled asphalt on a road crew, and installed wood floors. He barely missed being blown up by Mt. St. Helens, survived the 1985 Mexico City earthquake (8.0), and (so far) has successfully weathered his share of internal disasters.

Verlin began writing novels when he was nineteen. The first one was hideously amateurish. The quality of his writing progressed all the way up to just plain bad by the time he’d written a few more. That era of his life was characterized by an inability to learn much, since that would’ve entailed acknowledging that he didn’t already know everything.

Eventually, Verlin morphed into a simulacrum of a mature adult, and has published seven mysteries and thrillers with The Wild Rose Press. The three he submitted to book contests all won awards. Find out more at https://www.verlindarrow.com/.

Article published in The Relatable Voice Magazine - June 2026. Verlin is a regular columnist for the magazine. Downolad the full magazine at https://www.relatable-media.com/the-relatable-voice-magazine.