Warm Words, Cool Hearts
On resolutions, language, and what we sometimes swallow
“One kind word can warm three winter months.”
It sounds almost too good to be true. And yet, I feel immediately that it is.
Early January always makes me think about New Year’s resolutions. Not the big, heroic ones — exercising more, eating better, becoming more successful — but the smaller shifts that shape how we live together. This year, I keep returning to the same question: how do I speak?
I’ve lived in Thailand long enough to notice how carefully people here handle words. Speech is softened, paced, attuned to others. I genuinely appreciate that. It makes daily life feel gentler. Calmer. I sometimes even miss it when I’m back in Europe, where bluntness is often mistaken for honesty.
At the same time, I find myself wondering more and more.
Recently, I asked a few young Thais about the word piyavaca. They didn’t recognize it. The term meant nothing to them. The idea did. Speaking kindly. Showing respect. Avoiding unnecessary sharpness. “Isn’t that just normal?” they said.
And perhaps that’s exactly where things become interesting.
What happens when kindness becomes so automatic that no one says what is actually going on? I see employees on the work floor who clearly think differently from their managers, yet remain silent. Families who avoid sensitive topics for years “to keep the peace.” Conversations that stay polite but never quite touch anything real. In those moments, warmth starts to feel thin — like a layer of varnish that makes everything shine, but no longer protects what’s underneath.
Buddhist texts are surprisingly clear about this. Loving speech should not only be pleasant, but also truthful, useful, and timely. Kindness that detaches itself from truth becomes hollow. It preserves appearances, but nourishes nothing.
Perhaps that is my real resolution this year.
Not to speak more kindly — that usually comes naturally.
But to pay attention to why I speak, or choose not to.
Do my words come from care, or from avoidance?
From attunement, or from fear of discomfort?
A non-dual perspective helps me here. It’s not a choice between kindness and honesty. It’s an invitation to let words arise from a place that has nothing to protect. From there, they don’t need to be harsh to be true. And they don’t need to be soft to feel safe.
Maybe that’s enough for the new year.
No grand plan. No radical overhaul.
Just this resolution:
to speak with a cool heart —
so that words can truly bring warmth.
#NewYear #Kindness #Honesty #NonDuality #Mindfulness #Culture