Skip to main content

You Cannot Talk Your Way Out of Something You Behaved Your Way Into

Words are powerful — until they meet history.

No matter how eloquently we explain, justify, or charm, there comes a point where speech cannot undo what behavior has already written.

We live in a time where words move fast — apologies trend, promises multiply, and image is currency. But behavior is slower, heavier, and truer. It’s the record of who we’ve been when no one is watching. And once behavior leaves its imprint — on people, on relationships, on trust — talk alone can’t erase it.

The Illusion of Words

We’re raised to believe in the redemptive power of speech. Say sorry. Explain yourself. Give reasons. Craft the right narrative.

But words without changed behavior are like perfume over smoke — pleasant for a moment, but the air still burns. You can talk your way into admiration, even forgiveness. But not out of consequence.

Behavior is a form of truth that language can only circle, never rewrite. The friend who always says they’ll do better but doesn’t. The leader who apologizes every year for the same thing. The colleague who speaks of teamwork but hoards credit. Over time, their words lose shape — like coins rubbed smooth from overuse.

The Weight of Repetition

We become what we repeatedly do.
That line, borrowed from Aristotle, reminds us that behaviour is not a single act but a pattern. And patterns, once visible, have their own language — clearer than speech.

You can explain away one mistake. You can’t explain away a habit.
Because habits tell the truth we don’t speak aloud.

This is why apologies without change feel hollow, and why promises without consistency feel exhausting. It’s not cynicism — it’s memory. People remember patterns, not paragraphs.

Why We Rely on Talk

We reach for talk because it’s immediate and soft. Behaviour is hard — it requires time, restraint, humility. Words can be arranged beautifully in an afternoon; behaviour must be lived one day at a time.

Talking our way out of things feels like movement, but it’s often avoidance. We want to be understood without being accountable, forgiven without being transformed.

The danger isn’t just that others stop believing us; it’s that we start believing ourselves. We begin to mistake explanation for evolution.

The Work of Repair

To behave our way into something is to leave footprints — in others, in ourselves. Talking cannot erase those prints; it can only acknowledge them. The real work begins with action that contradicts the old pattern, day after day, until trust grows back like new skin.

The apology must be lived, not spoken.
And the language of change is consistency.

Repair begins when our behavior starts telling the same story our words claim to tell — when people no longer need convincing; they can simply see.

A Quiet Reflection

Maybe this saying isn’t a warning, but an invitation — to return to the slow honesty of action. To remember that silence and behavior, though less glamorous than talk, are more enduring forms of truth.

In a noisy world, people don’t need more words.
They need evidence.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Daniel Arap Moi — The Shadow and the Shepherd: A Deep Dive into Kenya’s Second President

If Jomo Kenyatta was the founding father, Daniel Toroitich Arap Moi was the long-reigning stepfather — sometimes protective, often punitive, and almost always enigmatic. He ruled Kenya for 24 years, the longest of any president to date. To some, he was the gentle teacher, Mwalimu , who kept the nation from tearing apart. To others, he was the architect of a surveillance state, a master of patronage and fear, the man who perfected repression through calm. This is a portrait of Daniel Arap Moi — not just as a ruler, but as a man shaped by modest beginnings, colonial violence, and the hunger for order in a chaotic time. Early Life: The Boy from Sacho Daniel Arap Moi was born on September 2, 1924, in Kurieng’wo, Baringo, in Kenya’s Rift Valley. He came from the Tugen sub-group of the Kalenjin community. His father died when he was just four. Raised by his uncle, Moi’s early life was marked by hardship, discipline, and deep Christian missionary influence. He trained as a teacher at Tambach ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Not All Disabilities Are Visible

Some pain does not leave a mark. Some exhaustion does not show in the face. Some people are carrying weights that have no name, no diagnosis, and no outward sign. We are used to recognizing suffering only when it can be pointed to — a bandage, a crutch, a cast, a wound. Something we can see. But the human interior is its own world, and often, the heaviest struggles live there. The Quiet Work of Holding Yourself Together There are those who walk into a room smiling, contributing, present — and yet they are holding themselves together one breath at a time. Not because they are pretending, but because they have learned to live with what would overwhelm another person. Some battles are fought inside the mind: The slow grey of depression The relentless hum of anxiety The sudden, unbidden memory that takes the body back to a place it never wants to return The deep fatigue that sleep does not cure And yet, life continues. The world moves. The dishes still need to be wa...
Post a Comment
Read more

Know Thyself: The Quiet Power of Naming Your Nature

“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.” — Carl Jung We live in a culture that equates good intentions with goodness, and ambition with ability. But very few people in Kenya—or anywhere—truly know what they are made of. We can name our qualifications and our dreams. But ask someone their vices or virtues, and they hesitate. Worse, they lie. The Danger of Self-Unawareness In Kenya today, many of us are wandering through life making choices—big, small, and irreversible—without truly understanding who we are. We end up in jobs we despise, relationships we shouldn’t be in, or positions of influence we aren’t emotionally or ethically equipped for. And at the root of this dysfunction is a simple truth: we don’t know ourselves. This is not a spiritual or abstract dilemma. It’s a deeply practical one. To know oneself is to understand your vices, your virtues, your weaknesses, and your strengths—not in a vague sense, but in detail. Let’s ge...
Post a Comment
Read more