When Words Fail

A black and white photo. A young man stands in the middle of a grove of slender trees, all with white trunks.

I was in a conversation recently where this question came up: “How do we influence people to change their minds and do things differently?”

This question is dear to me because it speaks to my own conversion experience—no, not a religious conversion. My conversion was the realignment of my behaviors, connections, and beliefs with the values I already held.

I’ve told my story elsewhere, but will summarize it here: I used to be solidly white-centered, and now, not so much— but given the context of living in the Pacific Northwest ten years ago, this was a radical, life-altering change.

I know—as does anyone who has lived in the spaces that are not white-centered and white-inhabited and white-controlled knows—that at best, I’ve become slightly more aware of the world and those around me.

I’ve moved a bit. That’s all.

But that all is everything.


Imagine a grove of trees— a forest, really— all planted in neat columns and rows, equidistant from each other so that when you look down a path, your view is always blocked by at least one tree. The forest is not endless. But to you—it completely hides anything beyond you that is not the forest.

Until you step every-so-slightly out of line. And then you see clear to the edge of the forest—and beyond. It is the distant mountains, sparkling lakes, rolling hills speckled gold, pink, purple, red with spring. All just beyond where you’re standing.

You blink. You realize you were seeing only the narrowest of ways, and not very far along at that. Where you were blocked what you could see, and only a slight move changed your view—and gave you hope that the world was larger, more beautiful, fuller than you’ve experienced.

What do you do with that new-found discovery of the larger world out there, just beyond yourself?

Perhaps you keep quiet about it.

Perhaps you share about it to others lost in their own forests.

Perhaps you even try to get other people to do what you’ve done —to step just a bit away from themselves, because then they, too, will see the glories further down a clear path.

All you need to do is to get someone to just move, just a bit.


But have you ever convinced someone based upon facts or wisdom that you know, despite their initial position which blocked them from seeing?

In my experience, few are convinced by the information from another when they have already settled upon their ways, their beliefs, their certainties.

“I don’t need to move from this position, because I know that what I see is absolutely true and absolutely exists. What you promise me if I turn away, if I move, is an entirely untrustworthy promise.”

And so you try various techniques and persuasive arguments:

  • The edge of the forest exists.
  • The larger world is out there.
  • There is a clear path to the edge, and an assurance that you can go forward until you reach the end of the forest - and then leave the forest behind.

But has this ever worked—relying only on your words to affect the people who hear you?


Before you say “Yes! Of course! I’ve convinced a few people to move and see the edge of the forest. I’ve helped people who are very close to the edge of the line of trees to just tilt their heads, just a little. I’ve helped people who have moved to start moving forward,” consider this:

You’ve moved people who are in this conversation with you. You are connected to people who trust you. They move because you gave them an example of how to move as well as what happens when you do move.

The personal connection is with the people around you. If they trust you to tell the truth, that trust is earned because you’ve shown yourself to be trustworthy. You were kind, you were faithful, you were open, you were sincere, you laughed at their jokes and told funny ones in return, you saved a place for them at the table or in a line or at the theatre, you asked them how they’re doing, you expressed your concern over their terrors and pains, and you rejoiced with them in their successes.

You came into their lives as a person, a friend, a source of support, a fellow human on the terrible, joy-filled, frightful, delightful journey of life—and beyond.

When you convince them, sure, your words help. Maybe you’re a great communicator, so much so that your friends even share your words with others. “See? This is great writing and good solid information. You should read it, too!”

But what’s happening here is that first you made the connection with them, and then, after they trusted you and opened up to you, you were able to share with them how moving just a tiny bit to the left or right made all the difference to your path. You convinced them to move because you showed them what happens when you moved.


Now why am I sharing this?

I get frustrated with how words seldom affect the decisions made by my family, my acquaintances, my workmates, my social peers. Their choices can be detrimental to me, my friends, and even them.

These are good words, I say. This is trustworthy information. This is capital-T Truth!

That doesn’t work. At least, not very often.

But when I make a connection with my family, acquaintances, and peer—well, that’s the opportunity to change minds. When I build trust with them and can listen and share truth, that increases the likelihood that the people around me change.

Change does happen, but there is no guarantee of this— not everyone will change, let alone listen. But I see more changes when I build relationships rooted in trust than when I just bang the drum and shout the words.

My concerns are related to community and justice. My values are that I want to see people free of hate, and free to love. I want to see people living joyfully, freely, in the pleasure of relationships and connections and love. I want everyone to have the opportunities to live the fullest, most expansive, most self-fulfilling lives that they can. I want justice to flow like a stream, and righteousness to flow like a river that never runs dry. I want my family, my friends, my community, my world to live in safety and peace and love.


To me, it seems so easy to want that. I know that I’ve always wanted it.

I didn’t live up to that desire for everyone, though. I was convinced that I needed to put my personal needs above the needs of others. Justice and freedom were impossible, and what mattered was safety—my safety.

We all need to love ourselves first. I get that. But if we want to move forward out of that forest and into freedom, we need to bring others with us.

And it surely helps if someone else comes along to help us, who shows us what they did.


That’s what happened to me when I was convinced the forest was all that there was—that there was no edge and no freedom beyond. Someone I trusted reached out to me, sat me down, told me I was being short-sighted, selfish, hurtful, and wrapped up in myself so much that I didn’t see them.

It was an astonishing moment for me. I blinked— and then I saw. I moved—and I saw past the trees to the edge of the forest.

I’ve been walking ever since, getting closer and closer to the clearing and its unobstructed view.

And I want to bring others with me.

I’m sharing this story to give you hope, and maybe push you, a little. If you’re beside yourself with frustration and hopelessness and even anger at how much injustice and unkindness and destruction rule— I’m telling you that there is hope.

You can move. And when you move, you can help others to move as well.

You have incredible power to effect change when words fail. Go be with your friends, show them that you’ve moved, so that they can trust you, and listen to your words.

The change can start with you.

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