We tend to think of repetition as a failure of imagination.
As if doing the same things, moving through familiar days, or waking up to similar rhythms means we’re stuck—or worse, wasting time. Popular culture reinforces that idea. Repetition is framed as something to escape, something to break free from, something to endure until life finally “moves forward.”
But repetition isn’t always the problem.
What’s been on my mind lately is a subtler question: what are we repeating—and why?
Not every loop is a trap. Some are stabilizing. Some are necessary. And some only become suffocating when we stay in them long after they’ve stopped aligning with who we are. The danger isn’t repetition itself, but the quiet ways we can drift into betraying ourselves for reasons that no longer hold up.
That reflection led to my latest long-form essay, “The Day After Groundhog Day.”
It uses the familiar cultural reference point of Groundhog Day, a sharp line from Dostoevsky, and even a detour through shifting calendars to explore how we mark time—and how time, in turn, reveals whether we’re living by an outdated internal system.
The essay isn’t really about the movie or the holiday. It’s about what happens after the reminder. The day when nothing resets automatically, when the calendar moves forward, and when we decide—often quietly—whether to keep repeating ourselves or begin living by a measure that fits who we’ve become.
You can read the full essay now on Medium.
If you’re not a Medium member, I’ll be sharing the complete piece with my email subscribers. When you subscribe, you’ll receive The Lantern—my weekly email exploring time, attention, and the quieter shifts that shape a meaningful life—delivered directly, without a paywall. If that sounds like something you’d like to receive, you can sign up below.
