A friend recently asked me to proofread a letter of recommendation. While I do not derive boundless joy in editing, I enjoy the challenge of polishing prose.

(… but only if it is someone else’s writing. I don’t like editing my own, as that usually results in ten to fifteen rewrites. Soon, the entire piece seems hackneyed and uninspired. Only when I’ve discovered that I have reached maximal concision do I consider it the Final Draft. By then, reading the text yet again is a highly aversive task, which only further solidifies my decision to submit the $@*%#^! thing.)

While I scanned his writing and provided suggestions and corrections (Strunk and White would be proud…), I realized that my ease came from my ability to succinctly label the issue. Instead of writing, “This is a very long sentence and it’s worded funny,” I wrote, “Use active instead of passive voice here.” Thus, I was able to accurately pinpoint the problem and subsequently suggest an appropriate solution. If A, then B.

How we label situations and problems affects our experiences of them and how we proceed. In the case of prose, the rules of grammar and syntax are concrete and rigid. “His long winter coat was greatly appreciated by her” sounds awkward and distant; it does not warmly embrace the reader. “She enjoyed his long winter coat” is clearly more evocative. The former sentence may induce the reader to turn on the television. The latter sentence may coax the reader to turn the page.

Now consider emotions, those sticky, consuming sensations that either last too long or not long enough (but always pass). How we label these psychophysiological reactions affects how we experience them (if at all) and how we proceed.

What exactly are the functions of emotions? Sometimes we believe that they are hindrances; they seem only to interfere with the tasks before us. Sometimes we appreciate them for how they affect our experiences with other people and in the world. Sometimes they seem to help us connect with other people and sometimes, they seem only to isolate us further.

Emotions often result in behavior. We do stuff as a result of emotions. When an avalanche approaches, we begin to run due to feelings of fear. When he sees a beautiful woman sitting alone at the bar, he approaches with an offer of a libation due to feelings of interest. When his favorite basketball team loses the game, he sullenly retreats to his room and shuts the door.

We communicate with and through emotions. Not only do these psychophysiological reactions inform ourselves of our current conditions, but they also inform other people and affect their behaviors. How often do our facial expressions betray our true sentiments, though our words (or silence) may suggest otherwise? Upon feeling angry, you may query yourself as to what specifically triggered this response. Others, upon noticing your ire (however you may exhibit it), may avoid you—alternatively, they may approach and gently ask you to elaborate upon the situation. Your manifestation of an emotion does influence others (intentionally or not)… and yourself.

So what happens when we have difficulties labeling emotions? Perhaps it is easier to identify a phrase as “passive voice” than to identify a sensation as “shame”.

If how we label situations and problems affects our experiences of them and how we proceed, could misidentification of emotions result in skewed experiences and missteps?

What if other people insist that we should not feel sad—”Stop crying! There’s nothing to be sad about!”—and thus, we “learn” to misidentify (or ignore) the emotion of sadness? How do we then experience a “sad” situation? Perhaps another emotion substitutes for sadness (anger often pinch-hits for a variety of emotions)… or perhaps there is a distinct lack of emotions and there exist only thoughts.

And what about the behaviors that “usually” result from the emotion of sadness? We all cope with sadness in different ways. Introverts may withdraw; extroverts may seek company. Each reaction is specifically tailored for the individual. However, if one cannot identify the current emotion, how does one proceed with the resulting behavior? If one identifies “sadness” as “anger”, is it not possible that the “sad” individual will instead punch a wall? This action would result in further complications, for not only can the experience of sadness/anger be uncomfortable, but there are now also potential hand injuries and property damage.

The linearity and rigidity of grammar and syntax allow for clarity in editing. Because there are a multitude of emotions (and because the amazing capacity of the human brain to hold more than two, potentially contradicting emotions simultaneously) and even more behaviors that may result from a single emotion, this complicates (and fantastically colors) our experiences in the world. We do not all label Z emotion as “Z”, for whatever reason. We do not all exhibit Y behavior as a result of X emotion. This lack of uniformity allows for wonderful variation in our daily lives. However, this barrage of diverse emotional experiences and even more diverse behaviors in a world filled with diverse personalities can easily facilitate miscommunication and surprising, unexpected actions.

Consistency and the predictability that follows it can be comforting… and incredibly boring. This is why proofreading is considered a chore and falling in love is not.