On Words
Or, how to use them more wisely - for our own sake.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about words.
And this presents an honest challenge for me.
I’m of the generation where pithy statements like “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” were repeated as often as I can remember.
I understand the intent.
They were meant to steel us.
To make us strong.
To keep words from getting under our skin.
And yet—they do, don’t they?
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Words and Wisdom Traditions
No matter your philosophical bent, words matter.
And yet, over and over again, we’re reminded to distance ourselves from them.
In the Stoic tradition, the best-known phrase is acta non verba—actions, not words. A reminder to let daily conduct speak louder than speech.
In the Buddhist tradition, it’s the image of chopping wood and carrying water. Even in enlightenment, the work remains ordinary. There’s no room for self-importance.
In the Christian tradition, Christ himself reminds us that actions matter more than declarations when he says:
“The good person out of his good treasure brings forth good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure brings forth evil.”
And yet, words still sting.
Words still hurt.
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When Words Slip Out
In the recovery movement, there’s a saying: “Drunken words are sober thoughts.”
It’s a reminder that in heightened emotional states—or under the influence—we’re more likely to slip.
To say something off-color.
To say something cruel.
To finally get it all off our chest.
And as someone who pays close attention to what is said—and what is left unsaid—I’ve come to recognize a deeper truth:
The words we speak to ourselves matter most.
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The Most Dangerous Conversation
Yes, what we do to others matter.
What we choose to say about and to them also is of importance.
But one of the greatest threats to our well-being is often ourselves.
The words we repeat internally carry more weight than almost anything said to us—even by those who love us most.
Because no matter how much encouragement comes from the outside, the inner dialogue sets the tone.
It sets the ability for our words to not only be healing, but the life-giving balm we need to navigate a chaotic world.
But self-talk can also tell us we don’t matter.
That we’re hopeless.
That we’re insufferable.
That if people truly knew us, they wouldn’t stay.
And, for some, it’s no surprise we are alone, vulnerable and left to our inner thoughts.
And this kind of speech is more damaging than we often care to admit.
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Changing the Inner Narrative
At the start of this new year, it’s wise to consider how we might stem the tide of self-negativity.
Because unchecked words become habits.
And habits harden into beliefs.
They isolate us.
They keep us stuck.
They leave us staring at shadows, like those trapped in Plato’s cave.
Here, the words of Epictetus offer both clarity and a way forward:
“If you spoke to others the way you speak to yourself, you would be considered cruel.”
If we hope to be loving toward others, we must first practice gentleness toward ourselves.
Yes, there’s always room to grow.
To reflect.
To change what no longer serves us.
But when our inner dialogue is dominated by bitterness, we cut ourselves off from the fullness of life that’s offered daily.
The poet Rupi Kaur captures this beautifully in Milk and Honey:
“You must
want to spend
the rest of your life
with yourself
first.”
It’s a quiet but profound recognition that the relationship with ourself undergirds every other relationship we hold.
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A Final Word
So today—and in the days ahead—love yourself.
Offer yourself a few mental hugs.
Real ones, too.
Dance, even when there’s no music.
Challenge yourself when needed.
Change the habits that no longer help you live well.
Let us speak kindly to ourself.
And, if you need help, remember this, in words uttered by Carl Sagan -
“The nitrogen in our DNA, the calcium in our teeth, the iron in our blood, the carbon in our apple pies were made in the interiors of collapsing stars. We are made of star-stuff.”
We are star-stuff.
So, let us shine brightly.