Verified by 
We commonly say seeing is believing. But for many of us, feeling is believing. Our feelings lead to beliefs that are more compelling than beliefs arrived at by other means. Unfortunately, beliefs based on feelings are often inaccurate.
For example, we may believe that if we feel afraid, there must be danger. This is a form of what psychological theorist Peter Fonagy calls psychic equivalence. Psyche means the mind. Equivalence means things are the same. In a state of psychic equivalence, a person is convinced their awareness and reality are one and the same. In other words, "Everything in my mind exists and everything that exists is in my mind."
Children, Fonagy says, spend the first three years of life in a state of psychic equivalence. But at around three, most children realize something can exist in their mind that does not exist elsewhere. That is how we start to realize that everything in the mind is — at best — only a representation of what exists in the world around us. We run into trouble if we don't come to realize that what is in one's own mind, what is in another person's mind, and what is real can be different. We are still thinking like a 3-year-old when we believe that if we feel something is true, it has to be true.
Because the mind is representational, imagination can cause fear when no danger exists. Fear does not prove there is danger. Nor does feeling safe prove we are safe. We can feel safe when a car approaches with a drunk driver at the wheel because we have no representation of the drunk driver in mind.
Feeling is believing plays a role when we are angry. We believe the person we are angry with is wrong. If they weren't wrong, we wouldn't be angry with them. Right? This dynamic can cause intractable relationship problems because a person who believes their feelings prove something is true can rarely be separated from their belief. For example, suspicion can be proof our mate is unfaithful because if they were faithful we wouldn't feel suspicious. Or, we don't feel loved, so our mate doesn't love us.
Though feelings may shed some light on reality, feelings should not control what we believe. In aviation, pilots are trained to question what they are about to do — even when they feel sure — before doing it. The worst tragedy in aviation history occurred when a 747 captain mistakenly believed he was cleared for takeoff. The copilot expressed doubt, but the captain — sure of what he was doing — began the takeoff. Before being able to get into the air, they collided with another 747 on the runway.
When I told a psychiatrist friend that I question everything I do, he was shocked. He said, "That's a terrible way to live." I replied, "But as a pilot, that's the only way to live if you want to keep doing it." There's a saying among pilots, "there are old pilots, and there are bold pilots, but there are no old bold pilots."
At the beginning of their training, student pilots maneuver the plane visually using the horizon as the primary reference. If the nose of the plane is above the horizon, the plane is usually climbing. Or if the nose is below the horizon, it is usually descending. Just as a bike or a motorcycle leans to the left when turning left, when making a left turn, a plane tilts left versus the horizon. Maneuvering the plane causes physical feelings. These feelings become associated with the position of the plane relative to the horizon.
As training continues, students learn to fly using instruments. In clouds, or at night, the horizon can't be seen. Pilots use a gyro-stabilized instrument, the artificial horizon, as a substitute for the real horizon. When a pilot is looking away from the artificial horizon, perhaps to study a map, if the plane goes into a turn too slowly to be felt, the pilot assumes the plane is still flying straight ahead. When the pilot looks back at the artificial horizon, it shows the plane is turning. This doesn't match up with what the pilot feels. An inexperienced pilot trusts what they feel and maneuvers the plane opposite of what they should.
You may remember the crash that killed John F. Kennedy, Jr. Flying at night with only limited instrument training, he became disoriented. His feelings told him the plane was flying straight ahead. Actually, it was spiraling down. Going by his feelings rather than his instruments, he crashed into the water. An experienced instrument pilot disregards what they feel. Having learned to trust the artificial horizon, they maneuver the plane correctly.
Click here to view a short video that explains this phenomenon. Click here for a video that shows how the conflict between what is seen and what is felt can develop.
To navigate through the sky as a pilot, or through life as a person, we need good reality testing to determine when to and when not to go by our feelings. Some pilots never become competent instrument pilots because they can't set aside their feelings and accept what their instruments indicate. Similarly, some of us always believe what we feel regardless of reason. The following excerpt from my book, Panic Free, cites Freud's thinking about this:
Freud proposed a distinction between what he called psychic reality and factual reality. Psychic reality is a person’s take on reality that has not been subjected to verification. Factual reality is a disciplined, self-examined mental representation of reality. Freud wrote, “What characterizes neurotics is that they prefer psychical to factual reality, and react just as seriously to thoughts as normal people do to realities.”
