What Are You Playing on Repeat?
Growing up, music was a big part of my world.
And so were records.
They weren't actually my records. They belonged to my mom and stepdad.
Saturday Night Fever. Neil Diamond. Barbra Streisand. Barry Manilow. The Beastie Boys. Run-D.M.C.
Those records are woven into the soundtrack of my childhood.
I loved the whole ritual of it.
Taking a record out of its sleeve. Putting it on the turntable. Lowering the needle.
And if you grew up with records too, you probably remember what happened when the needle got caught in a groove.
The same few seconds would play.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Until somebody noticed...
and moved the needle.
I've been thinking about that lately — how something can play on repeat for so long that you almost stop hearing it.
Looking back, holy cow, did I have some records playing in my own head!
And for a long time, I didn't even realize they were playing.
I can't handle this.
I don't have enough time.
Here we go again.
They always do this.
Something's wrong with me.
I suck.
What if this doesn't get better?
And sometimes I wasn't just playing the record once.
I had that shit on repeat.
Maybe you have a few records of your own.
Maybe yours sound like:
I'm overwhelmed.
I'm so anxious.
I can't do this.
They're the problem.
This always happens to me.
I'm not good enough.
I can't rest.
If I don't do it, nobody will.
I should be further along by now.
What if something goes wrong?
And here's the thing.
Having one of those thoughts isn't the problem.
We're human.
We're going to worry.
We're going to get overwhelmed.
We're going to imagine worst-case scenarios.
We're going to have moments when we think things about ourselves, our bodies, our relationships, or our lives that aren't particularly helpful.
But sometimes the needle gets stuck.
And we don't even realize we're listening to the same few seconds anymore.
Repetition makes things familiar. And familiar thoughts can become so automatic that eventually we stop noticing we're thinking them.
The record doesn't only play in your mind.
This is the part I think we don't talk about enough.
What we're thinking and what we're experiencing in our bodies aren't two completely separate things.
Our brains and bodies can respond not only to what's happening around us, but to what we're anticipating, remembering, imagining, and telling ourselves about what's happening.
So imagine anxiety shows up.
Maybe your heart starts beating faster.
Your stomach feels unsettled.
Your breathing changes.
And then the record starts:
Oh no.
Here it comes again.
I'm anxious.
Why does this keep happening?
What if it gets worse?
What if I can't handle it?
Now you're not only experiencing the original sensations.
You're also experiencing everything you're telling yourself about those sensations.
And those thoughts can become part of what your nervous system is responding to.
Then you notice your heart beating even faster.
See?! Something IS wrong.
The sensation can feed the story. And the story can feed the sensation.
And around we go.
The needle drops right back into the groove.
And anxiety isn't the only record.
Overwhelm can sound like:
I have too much to do.
I'm never going to get all of this done.
I can't handle this.
Conflict:
Here we go again.
She never listens.
This always happens.
Trying something new:
I can't do this.
I'm not ready.
That's not me.
What if I fail?
Our bodies:
Nothing I do works.
I hate my body.
My body is working against me.
I'm never going to feel good in my body.
I've had all of these records on repeat at one point or another.
And when those records were playing, I didn't always recognize them as records.
I believed the damn lyrics.
This is true.
This is who I am.
This is how it always goes.
When you hear something often enough, it can become so familiar you stop questioning it.
And some of mine played for a very long time.
Because some of our records aren't only about what's happening today.
I'm too much.
I'm not enough.
People leave.
I have to do everything myself.
I can't depend on anyone.
My needs are a burden.
We've heard some of these stories so many times that they can start to sound like truth.
But hearing something thousands of times doesn't necessarily make it true.
Sometimes it just means...
the needle has been sitting in that groove for a really long time.
So how do we move the needle?
First, we notice the record.
That's it.
Before we try to fix it.
Before we replace it.
Before we judge ourselves for thinking it.
We hear it.
Ohhhh.
There's “I can't handle this” again.
There's “something's wrong with me.”
There's “I have to figure everything out right now.”
Remember?
Judgment is the default. Curiosity is the practice.
So instead of:
Why the hell do I keep doing this?
Maybe it's:
Isn't that interesting...
I wonder what record is playing right now.
Then notice what's actually here.
Sometimes it can be useful to experiment with the language we use for what we're experiencing.
Notice how it feels to say:
I am anxious.
and:
Anxiety is here.
Or:
I'm completely overwhelmed.
and:
I'm noticing overwhelm right now.
This isn't some magical grammar trick that's going to make anxiety or overwhelm disappear.
And we're certainly not pretending we aren't experiencing what we're experiencing.
We're actually acknowledging it.
Anxiety is here.
What you're experiencing is real.
And it's still an experience you're having — not the entirety of who you are.
Anxiety is here. And you're here, too.
That little bit of space gives us somewhere to go.
We can notice our feet on the floor.
Notice our breath.
Look around the room.
Notice what's happening in our bodies.
And get curious about what's happening and the story we're telling ourselves about it.
And then...
we can try moving the needle.
Not toward something prettier.
Not toward some affirmation we don't believe.
Toward something that leaves room for more of the truth.
I can't handle this.
might become:
This is a lot AND I don't have to handle all of it at once.
I'm going to f*ck this up.
might become:
I don't know how this is going to go AND I can take one step.
Something is wrong with me.
might become:
Something is happening in me AND let me get curious about what it is.
See the difference?
We're not bullshitting ourselves.
We're not pretending everything is fine.
We're not trying to positive-think our way out of pain, anxiety, grief, trauma, or anything else.
We're interrupting the loop.
And I want to say something really important here.
We talk a LOT these days about anxiety, nervous-system regulation, triggers, trauma, and mental health.
I think having more language for what we're experiencing can be incredibly useful.
But I also think it's worth noticing what we do with that language once we have it.
Does it help us understand what we're experiencing?
Or does it sometimes become another record?
I'm always anxious.
I'm dysregulated.
I'm triggered.
I can't handle this.
The point isn't to stop using those words.
The point is to notice whether the language is helping us understand our experience — or becoming the only way we understand ourselves.
Because sometimes the record is too f*cking loud.
Sometimes we're so activated that accessing another thought feels impossible.
And some things aren't thought loops that need reframing.
Sometimes what we're experiencing needs more support than we can give ourselves in that moment.
It may need movement.
Rest.
Connection.
Professional support.
Time.
Maybe several of those things.
Sometimes moving the needle is only one part of what we need.
And sometimes?
The practice isn't even moving the needle yet.
It's realizing there's a record playing.
Because we can't change a pattern we can't see.
So maybe today, you don't need to throw away the record.
And you definitely don't need to slap a happy song on top of something that hurts.
Maybe you simply notice what's playing.
What have I been playing on repeat?
What happens in my body when I play it?
Is this true? Is it the whole truth? Or has it simply become familiar?
What else might be true?
Is there another way I could meet what's happening right now?
And when you're able...
gently move the needle.
Not because the old record makes you broken.
Not because difficult thoughts are bad.
But because you don't have to keep living inside the same few seconds simply because you've heard them a thousand times before.
Notice the record.
Get curious about the groove.
Move the needle.
That's the Superfine Way 💜
— Danielle
P.S. This reflection is part of The Superfine Way — an ongoing series exploring the beliefs, ideas, and practices that shape how we approach healing, embodiment, and being human at Superfine Synergy.
If you're new here, missed one along the way, or want to revisit a favorite, you can find the whole series here.
This reflection was originally shared with our email community.
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