Volume 1 · The Machine Between the Ears · Essay 10
Affective Labeling
There is an old piece of grandmotherly wisdom: name the demon, and it shrinks. Brain science has caught up with her. When people put a feeling into words — "I am angry," "I am afraid" — the alarm centre of the brain measurably quiets.
The principle: a feeling without a name is a flood. It is everywhere in you and therefore in charge of you. A name turns the flood into an object — something in front of you, which you can look at. What you can look at, you are no longer inside.
So the practice is almost insultingly simple. When the wave comes, do not argue with it and do not obey it. Label it, in plain words, out loud if possible. "This is grief." "This is envy." Not poetry. A label.
The unnamed feeling owns you. The named one has been seen — and nothing that has been clearly seen keeps its full power.