If Repeating Disinformation Can Shape Belief, What Could Repeating a Healing Truth Do?
The same brain that believed the lie can believe something kinder.
It started with a dog.
Well—my dog, Ari.
I was a teenager, fresh off reading my first Thich Nhat Hanh book.
Ari was pacing the hallway like he’d lost something—his favorite toy, maybe.
I crouched beside him, one hand on his shoulder, and whispered like I was auditioning for a very earnest, very underfunded mindfulness documentary:
“I am here for you.”
He blinked at me. The look said: Obviously. I live in your house.
Still, something about saying it—not out loud for him, but quietly inside, like I meant it—felt grounding.
Later that week, a friend called, crying. I didn’t know what to say. So again, silently this time, I tried the phrase:
I am here for you.
Not to fix. Not to figure it out.
Just to be there.
Again, something shifted. My shoulders dropped. My attention steadied. I stopped bracing to respond and actually started to listen.
It didn’t make me enlightened.
It made me available.
That one phrase—so simple it might barely count as a sentence—had quietly changed the way I showed up.
What We Repeat, We Become
Your Brain on a Mantra
Turns out, a tiny mantra can do more than sound poetic.
It can change how your brain processes the moment.
Researchers asked participants to silently repeat a single word:
One.
No spiritual context. No incense. Just the word.
But it was enough to calm the brain.
Specifically, it turned down the volume in the default mode network—the network of brain regions that flickers to life when we’re ruminating, overthinking, or mentally revisiting that one thing we said in 2008 that still makes us wince in the shower.
But here’s the twist: In most tasks, when one region quiets down, another ramps up—like your brain is just shifting the noise from one room to another.
That didn’t happen here.
There was no compensatory spike. No backup system kicking in to fill the silence.
Just stillness.
As if the mind, given one simple word to hold, finally got the memo:
You can rest now.
What’s wild is that participants weren’t even trained meditators. Which means:
You don’t need to be a monk.
You don’t need a mantra in Sanskrit.
You don’t need years of cushion time,
or a cabin in the woods.
You just need something worth repeating.
Even if it’s just one.
Repeat Until Real
In another line of research, psychologists tested what happens when people hear the same phrase again and again.
Fact or fiction, didn’t matter. The more often they heard it, the truer it felt.
It’s called the illusory truth effect. Repetition builds fluency—a kind of mental smoothness that makes processing easier. And fluency, our brains have learned, feels a lot like truth.
That’s part of how disinformation spreads. Why slogans stick. Why conspiracy theories go viral. And why you still remember that one line your high school teacher said—even if everything else they taught evaporated on contact.
Which begs the question:
If repetition can make almost anything feel true... what happens when we repeat something that’s actually worth believing—something kinder?
That’s where mantra comes in.
A mantra isn’t magic. It’s just a phrase. Repeated. Gently. With attention.
But in the same way a well-worn path becomes easier to walk, a phrase repeated with care can shape the way we see, feel, and respond.
And here’s where it gets particularly interesting:
In that study, the biggest shift in belief didn’t come after the tenth repetition.
It came after the second.
Just once or twice was enough to move the needle.
Not a thousand chants. Not years of cushion time.
Two rounds. That’s it.
So no—you don’t have to repeat a mantra a million times to feel it land.
You just have to mean it.
And maybe say it one more time.
This isn’t about tricking yourself into believing something false.
It’s about reminding yourself of something true—
until your body starts to recognize it.
Not because it’s loud.
But because it’s familiar.
And sometimes, that’s all your nervous system needs to soften.
Micropractice #15: Mantra Moments
When to try it
When your mind’s racing
When you’re with someone, and you want to be truly there
When you need care, but no one’s offering
When a moment catches your heart, and you don’t want to miss it
How it works
Choose a mantra that fits the moment.
(See below if you’d like some inspiration.)
Say it silently in your mind.
For example: I am here for you.
Let it land.
Say it again, if you’d like.
No need to force stillness. Let it hum in the background.
Do it while waiting for your coffee.
Before your next Zoom call.
While staring at the cereal boxes. (They’re patient—they’ll wait.)
And if one phrase doesn’t fit, try another.
Experiment.
See what resonates.
For Connection
I see you. I care.
This is a moment of care.
I’m not going anywhere.
This is a moment of care.
Care
Hold
For Calm
This is a moment of calm.
You are safe.
Safe.
Ease.
For Letting Go
Let go.
Nothing to prove.
Nothing to fix.
Allow.
For Joyful Presence
This is a happy moment.
I’m happy you’re here.
This is it.
Happy.
Precious.
This.
Here.
Even one phrase, repeated with kindness, can shift the tone of a whole afternoon.
You don’t need to fix the feeling.
But you can meet it with something softer than silence.
Someone you know is tired.
Send this to the friend who could use a one-word vacation.
Repeating myself, but in a healing way,
Eli Susman, PhD
Founder, The Micro Memo
micropractice.com
Let’s make well-being a way of being.
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