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On friendship, honesty, and the promises we don’t keep

Dec 31, 2025

Words heal. Words wound. Words capture memories. Words create—and destroy—connections.

I love words. I have always loved words. My life is words.

But I would like to make the case here, the Anti-Word Case, by offering this unoriginal but very wise saying: “Actions speak louder than words.”

Who first said that? It might have been St. Anthony of Padua in a 13^th century sermon. Or it could have been the 16^th century French philosopher/ essayist Montaigne, who wrote: “Saying is a different thing than doing.” In any case, it was Abraham Lincoln who popularized the exact phrase in an 1856 speech. And then Mark Twin modified—and improved – it writing (pithily, of course): “Action speaks louder than words but not nearly as often.” (See how “smart” a quick internet search makes one appear? Don’t be fooled!)

To repeat Mr. Twain:“Action speaks louder than words (pause here for effect) but not nearly as often.” Yes, yes: Not nearly as often.

I’m thinking about this because I am thinking of words we say with a hollowness that rarely signals action. Placeholders for sincerity. Exit lines that allow us to get out of a moment gracefully (we think). Ritualized (trite, even) politeness that has drifted far from genuine meaning. Social niceties with no downstream behavior. Behavior as in, you know, action.

To wit, the exit line we use--“Let’s be friends”—said, for example, when someone is no longer interested in pursing a romantic connection. Generally, but not always, what I would consider a “polite fiction.”

I am guilty of this. I’ve said this. I have had this said to me.

I understand that in some circumstances this might be sincere. And if you are reading this, and if you have sincerely said this to someone, and if you have then devoted time and energy to creating and maintaining a friendship: Yay, you. You followed words with action.

But, listen, the very traits that make someone “not for us” romantically often make them “not for us” as friends either. That’s the quiet truth people don’t like to say aloud.

Friendship is not a consolation prize. It requires compatibility, curiosity, energy, humor, empathy – and follow-through. You know, the “I’ve got your back” kind. If those are absent, renaming the relationship doesn’t conjure them into being.

Thinking about these empty words I have uttered or have been said to me is a reminder that clarity is harder than kindness, and that sometimes the most respectful thing we can offer another person is a clean, honest no—without the promise of a yes we don’t intend to keep.

Friendship isn’t what remains when attraction fails. It’s what grows when interest persists.

Anything else is just words filling space.

*The illustration is from Charlie Mackery’s The Boy, the mole, the fox and the Horse, given to me, four years ago, in an act of silent friendship.

Thanks for reading Life After All! This post is public so feel free to share it.

Robert R Geer

Jan 2

Dear Lauren Kessler,

Shortly after reading your yearend missive about the failure of words as replacement for action, I heard an all too familiar knocking at the front door of my psyche. “Oh Randy, have you been using words carelessly again?, the voice on the porch whispered” You see - I love words. I love wordplay. Action, however, is, for me – well - it is somewhat hard to pin a tail on that donkey.

You and I are of similar age and have been a part of the same rising and falling tides of history. You, more so than me, have also been able to swing opinion and sway perception by your gifts as a wordsmith, your compelling storytelling, and your honest, careful, courageous research. You have remained fit, curious, and daring throughout your life, maybe even more so now, later in life. On the other hand, my world has shrunk, in my old age. I am a double amputee who must always leave the house, when I leave the house, on a short bus in my wheelchair. My days of climbing ladders, picking peaches, canning tomatoes on a Five Acres and Independence piece of Oregon heaven are long past. I cannot organize or march for social justice although the modern world’s continued injustice leaves a constant acrid taste in my mouth. I cannot walk a Camino, let alone five.

But, I can be your friend. I can be a good reader. I can be loyal to you and enthusiastic to share my experience with you, I have tried to share the good, the bad, and the ugly. But - all I have are Words. Words about gardens past. Words about Niobrara County, Nebraska and Walden, Colorado. Words about Oregon. Words about my days spent in Oregon’s prisons. Words about my children and grandchildren.

I agree with you. “Words heal. Words wound. Words capture memories. Words create—and destroy—connections.”

We live in a time where carnival barkers and snake oil salesmen hold sway. In a world that has monetized everything and normalized the world of The Hidden Persuaders, the volume of words uttered senselessly to sell everything make me want to cover my ears and speak no more. Where is a good cloistered monastery when you need one? I know – Spain. At any rate, I hope I may continue to count you as a friend. I hope I have never left you hanging on a dangling promise or participle, for that matter. I admire you a great deal. I want you to know you have enriched my world. And, you have done so with your Words which have always illuminated your actions. And that is my ‘Final Word’ for today.

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