In times of overwhelm or uncertainty, our emotions often feel like the only truth in the room. But what if there’s more freedom — and wisdom — available when we learn to meet them with curiosity and compassion?

Emotions come in hot. They show up in your body, sometimes like a punch in the chest or a pit in the stomach. In those moments, the emotions feel like the ultimate truth — unshakable, absolute, and consuming your full attention.

But here’s the thing: emotions aren’t facts. They just feel that way in the moment.

Psychologist Susan David puts it cleanly: “Emotions are data, not directives.” They tell us something potentially important — a need that isn’t being met, a boundary that’s been crossed, a value that matters. Or they’re echoes of past episodes in our lives that have become embedded in our nervous systems.

The truth is, most of us like to think we’re rational beings who occasionally get emotional. The research says otherwise. As behavioral economist Dan Ariely famously put it: “We’re not thinking machines. We’re feeling machines that happen to think.”

And too often when we do think, it’s usually just our brain catching up with the emotions already in the driver’s seat. Social psychologist Jonathan Haidt describes it with a vivid image: the emotional brain is an elephant, big, willful, and powerful. The rational mind is a small rider perched on top. The rider thinks he’s steering, but more often he’s just explaining where the elephant decided to go.

Neuroscientist Lisa Feldman Barrett adds yet another layer: emotions themselves aren’t hardwired reactions. They’re predictions or best guesses — your brain’s best guess about what’s happening, stitched together from past experience, context, and sensation. They feel solid, but they’re stories your nervous system is writing in real time. And they may or may not accurately reflect what’s going on.

So where does that leave us?

Well, sometimes it leaves us challenged when responding to “How are you?” For example, Rebecca is feeling pretty darn cheerful about some recent health improvements, and yet in quiet moments over the past week, she has had a recurring feeling of sorrow. The prickling sensation at the inner corners of her eyes and a sinking in her torso scream SAD, while her brain screams WHY. Although her inner Sherlock Holmes is desperate to discover where the sad comes from, years of mindful self-compassion practice has taught her it is not that simple. Without a logical why, it is tempting to ignore these feelings. 

Denying our emotions is not the answer. They matter. They’re signals worth listening to. But mindful self-compassion invites a different relationship:

• Notice the emotion — Say to yourself with appropriate dispassion: “Ah, fear is here. Anger is here. Sadness is here.”
  
• Feel it in the body — the tightness, the buzzing, the heat. More data! Plus, focusing on your body slows rumination.
• Name it with kindness — “This is hard right now.”
  
• Remember it’s data, not destiny — you get to choose how to respond.

Next time you’re swept up in a difficult feeling, pause for just a breath. Place a hand on your heart if that helps. Ask yourself: What’s the data here? And what story am I tempted to believe?

That little gap between the feeling and the fact — that’s where compassion lives. That’s where freedom begins.If this resonates with you, we invite you to go deeper. Our next Mindful Self-Compassion course offers a powerful space to build this kind of emotional awareness in community.