Narrator: For six weeks, a slow leak in Jon Acuff’s Volkswagen GTI turned the backseat into a swamp. After a minor accident, the body shop had fixed the doors but created a new, unseen problem. Every time it rained, water pooled on the floor. Instead of making a simple phone call to the shop, Acuff launched an elaborate avoidance campaign. He deployed beach towels, ran a dehumidifier with an extension cord out the window, and convinced himself that any confrontation would be a nightmare. His internal monologue told him the shop would deny responsibility, accuse him of lying, and charge him a fortune. By the time he finally called, spurred on by his wife and the growing smell of mold, the car was a mess. The shop owner’s response? He was mortified, apologized profusely, and fixed the leak for free in under an hour. The real problem wasn't the leak; it was the destructive internal narrative that turned a minor issue into a six-week saga of stress and mildew.

This cycle of self-sabotage, fueled by our own repetitive thoughts, is the central focus of Jon Acuff's book, Soundtracks: The Surprising Solution to Overthinking. Acuff argues that overthinking isn't a personality flaw but a mismanaged superpower. He presents a practical system for identifying the negative, repetitive thoughts—or "broken soundtracks"—that hold us back, and replacing them with new ones that propel us forward.

Narrator: Acuff defines overthinking with a simple, powerful phrase: it’s when what you think gets in the way of what you want. These thoughts aren't random; they are "soundtracks," repetitive internal monologues that play on a loop, shaping our beliefs and actions. For years, Acuff was plagued by broken soundtracks that kept him stuck in a corporate job, dreaming of "someday."

The turning point came from an unexpected email. A marketing coordinator from Oklahoma invited him to speak at a conference, despite Acuff having no public speaking experience. His initial, automatic soundtracks screamed that he was a fraud and unqualified. But in that moment, he chose to listen to a different, quieter thought: "I think I can do this." That single, simple soundtrack was enough to make him say yes. It didn't magically erase his fear, but it gave him permission to act. This one decision launched a career that would eventually lead him to become a New York Times bestselling author and a renowned public speaker. Acuff’s journey reveals that we don't have to be passive listeners to our thoughts. We can become the DJ of our own minds, choosing which soundtracks to play and which to retire.

Narrator: To change your soundtracks, you first have to identify the broken ones. Acuff provides a simple diagnostic tool in the form of three questions to ask any repetitive thought: Is it true? Is it helpful? Is it kind? A thought that fails even one of these tests is a broken soundtrack that needs to be retired.

The power of this audit is not just personal; it can transform organizations. Acuff tells the story of Sal St. Germain, an electrical shop manager in Hawaii whose team was working on a failing project. The team was convinced they were hamstrung by rules from their parent organization, a broken soundtrack that was playing on a loop: "We can't do this because corporate won't let us." This belief created a culture of helplessness. Sal decided to challenge it by asking his boss the first question: "Is it true?" His boss’s response was shocking. He told Sal that his team were the experts and that corporate was waiting for them to provide guidance. This single question shattered the broken soundtrack. The team’s mindset shifted from one of restriction to one of empowerment. They engaged the parent organization as partners, implemented the necessary changes in record time, and ended up saving the company an estimated $14 million over five years. This demonstrates that challenging our assumptions with simple questions can dismantle the limiting beliefs that stifle progress.

Narrator: Many people who struggle with overthinking seek a permanent "off switch" for their negative thoughts. They believe that one day, they'll find the magic bullet that silences the internal critic forever. Acuff argues this is a dangerous and unrealistic goal that leads to perfectionism and failure.

During a breakfast meeting, family counselor David Thomas offered Acuff a different metaphor. He explained, "It’s not a switch though, it’s a dial. The goal isn’t to turn it off forever, the goal is to turn down the volume." This reframes the entire approach. Managing overthinking isn't about achieving a state of permanent mental silence; it's about developing techniques to turn down the intensity of negative thoughts when they become too loud. These "turn-down techniques" are personal and practical actions that shift focus away from the emotional part of the brain. They can be as simple as going for a run, making a to-do list, cleaning a room, or calling a friend. The goal is to have a toolbox of accessible strategies to lower the volume of a broken soundtrack, allowing a new, more positive one to be heard. This "dial" approach fosters resilience, teaching us to manage recurring thoughts rather than feeling defeated when they inevitably reappear.

Narrator: A new soundtrack is powerless if it isn't connected to a new action. Acuff emphasizes that inaction breeds overthinking, creating a vicious cycle. The best way to break this cycle is to act. After publishing one of his books, Acuff found himself in a year-long writing drought. The broken soundtrack "writing is hard and torturous" was playing at full volume. To break free, he created a new, simple soundtrack: "Writers write." He then forced himself into action. He went to a coffee shop every day and wrote, not with the goal of creating a masterpiece, but simply to perform the act of writing. He produced a 50,000-word book that he knew was terrible, but the action itself was the victory. It silenced the overthinking and allowed him to start his next real book with a fresh mindset.

This principle also applies to adopting new beliefs. To make a new soundtrack stick, you must actively look for evidence that it's true. Acuff calls this process "gathering evidence" to defeat your "pocket jury"—the collection of inner critics that constantly remind you of past failures. He tells the story of Jimmy Akers, a pastor who wanted to launch an online guitar course but was paralyzed by the soundtrack, "Who do you think you are?" Instead of succumbing to the doubt, Jimmy gathered evidence. He listed his twenty-two years of playing guitar, his fifteen years of teaching experience, and the hundred-plus hours he'd invested in creating the course. This mountain of evidence, built on effort, silenced the pocket jury and gave him the confidence to launch. A soundtrack without action, Acuff concludes, is just a fortune cookie—a nice sentiment with no real power.

Narrator: To make new soundtracks truly automatic, they often need to be anchored to the physical world. Acuff advocates for using symbols—simple, personal, and visible objects—to serve as constant reminders of a new, desired belief or behavior. A symbol acts as a physical cue that reinforces the new soundtrack every time you see it.

Acuff shares his own struggle with the dangerous habit of texting while driving. Despite knowing the risks, he couldn't break the addiction. After getting a hefty ticket in Canada, he knew he needed a different approach. His new soundtrack was, "I am a safe driver who doesn't use his phone." To make it stick, he created a symbol. He got $200 in dollar coins from the bank and put them in his car's center console. Every time he completed a drive without touching his phone, he moved one coin into a Mason jar in his office. The physical act of moving the coin was a small celebration, a tangible reward that reinforced the new behavior. Over three months, he filled the jar. The symbol worked. The simple, visible, and personal system helped him connect his new soundtrack to a real-world action, successfully overwriting a dangerous habit. This shows that linking an internal change to an external symbol can dramatically accelerate the process of making a new belief permanent.

Narrator: The single most important takeaway from Soundtracks is that our thoughts are not immutable facts; they are choices. We are not victims of our internal monologues. We have the power to identify the broken soundtracks that limit us, retire them, and intentionally replace them with new ones that are true, helpful, and kind. This isn't a one-time fix but a continuous practice of curating the playlists in our minds.

Ultimately, Jon Acuff's message is one of profound empowerment. He began his journey with the simple, hopeful thought, "I think I can be a public speaker." Twelve years later, he found himself backstage at the legendary Ryman Auditorium, about to open for Dolly Parton. His story serves as a powerful testament to the idea that changing your thoughts can, in fact, change your life. The real challenge the book leaves us with is to move beyond passive hope. A positive thought is a starting point, but as Acuff reminds us, a soundtrack without action is just a fortune cookie. What will you do today to prove your new soundtrack is true?