Do you ever experience something looping in your mind? A song, a phrase, a movie line, a new idea — something that settles in and refuses to leave for a while? I absolutely do.
I also rewatch certain movies over and over, especially feel-good ones. I find the familiarity comforting. The unfortunate side effect for my family and friends is that this has created a massive library of movie quotes in my head. I seem to have at least one applicable quote for nearly every life situation. If I bump into two friends walking at dusk, my brain immediately offers:
“What’s a couple of bites like you doin’ out so late?”
(Spoken by Bruce the shark in Finding Nemo, which I’ve probably watched 20 times.)
We all have our quirks. Welcome to one of mine. And yes — on occasion, I’ve listened to the same song on repeat for an entire two-hour drive.
From my research, one reason repetitive listening can feel soothing is because familiarity supports nervous system regulation. Predictable rhythm, cadence, and emotional tone create a sense of safety and steadiness — almost like a weighted blanket for the brain.
But sometimes repetition serves another purpose. Sometimes the mind keeps returning to something because it’s still unpacking it…
All of us, or none of us
I recently watched the Ted Lasso series after years of recommendations from people who know and appreciate my nerdy side. I’m rarely current on television, so naturally I arrived late to the Ted Lasso party.
There’s a scene near the end of the series where Ted says to Coach Beard:
“I hope that either all of us… or none of us… are judged by the actions of our weakest moments; but instead by the strength we show when — and if — we’re ever given a second chance.”
That line stopped me in my tracks. Because most of us have a complicated relationship with judgment. I think it’s fair to say that we’ve all judged another person based on one of their weaker moments. I know I have.
I’ve also met people who seem to use judging others as a form of social bonding — a conversational pastime. And then there are those rare humans who seem more often interested in understanding what might be happening underneath a person’s words or behavior. Curiosity instead of certainty.
Servin’ it up, family-style
Before anyone gets sassy with me: “Laurie Warren, is this an argument for excusing harmful behavior or becoming a human doormat?”
Nothing of the sort.
Everything I write is intended as an invitation, not an “argument” or instruction. I think of my writing as a family-style dinner table — I set out ideas, stories, research, and reflections, and you decide what resonates and what doesn’t.
But I do think questioning our thoughts can be an illuminating practice.
For instance:
Is someone actually “a jerk”?
Or was their comment jerky?
That small shift in our mind changes the entire landscape.
Maybe we widen the lens a bit further and consider the possibility that someone is in a weak moment. Stephen Covey shares a powerful story in The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People about becoming irritated with a man whose children were creating chaos on a subway, only to learn that the children’s mother had died an hour earlier and the father was in shock, thereby failing to reign in his four also-in-shock children.
In the blink of an eye, irritation dissolves into compassion. A paradigm shift.
Sometimes our reactions to others also reveal something worth understanding within ourselves. In Wild World, Joyful Heart, I compare this to a glass of water with sediment resting at the bottom. When the water gets stirred, it clouds with sediment. The stirring didn’t create the sediment — it simply revealed what was already there.
That doesn’t mean we’re “bad” for getting activated. It means there may be something within us asking for our attention, understanding, or healing.
That’s a very different response —and outcome — to addressing our discomfort.
The cure for tunnel vision
Tunnel vision is a physical condition that limits peripheral sight, making it difficult to see anything outside a narrow field of focus.
We can develop a mental-emotional version of tunnel vision, too.
When we become deeply attached to our perspective, our judgments, or our certainty, we lose access to the wider landscape. Anything outside our viewpoint can begin to feel absurd, threatening, or just plain wrong.
Judgment and self-righteousness narrow us. Curiosity expands us.
Curiosity asks:
• What might I be missing?
• What else could be true here?
• What’s happening beneath the surface?
Curiosity also explores:
How might I want others to meet me — my own lousy behavior — in my own weakest moments?
I don’t know about you, but I’ve certainly created enough of those moments to keep me humble. And through it all, I continue to find that self-honesty works best when paired with a healthy dose of self-kindness.
We’re all on a perfectly imperfect journey, rich in imperfect moments, with each moment ripe for a fresh new start.
To your capacity & alignment,
Laurie
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