Could the most over-used conversation topic actually be a tool to cultivate deeper presence?
I’m in favor of talking about the weather.
But I didn’t use to be.
For the longest time, I fought against small talk, and, in particular, weather-based small talk. What was the point of having seemingly the same “back-and-forths” with every person you encounter in your day? Where was the substance? The “heart” of the conversation and exchange? I was only really interested in diving deep or not at all. Chit-chatting about the weather just felt superficial and like a waste of time.
The more complicated my daily life seemingly became, the more I started to lean in and give way to small talk. It just wasn’t worth the effort of trying to “break through” to every person with deep talks, and I had come to realize, not everyone wants that throughout their simple daily exchanges either.
In the full surrendering to small talk, I naturally began to feel bored and then somewhat disconnected. Bumping into so many people throughout my day but feeling no substance in our exchanges. Internalizing the experience and feeling more isolated.
There was no defining “a-ha” moment for when my perspective on small talk shifted. No defining conversation or encounter. Perhaps it was a culmination of my own ruminations on how we relate to others, especially during challenging times. On how we find commonality even through our different paths. On how we share connection with one another, despite not knowing one another (or only knowing so much).
When we talk about the weather, we immediately bring ourselves to the present moment.
Yes, there can be past stories shared about great floods, wildfires, soaring temperatures, or blissful “those-were-the-days” kind of days.
Or projections into future “what-if” weather patterns, sharing predictions, fears, hopes, and dreams.
But at its core, a passing conversation about the weather is largely prompted by that day’s weather itself. By the present moment you both find yourself in. By how the wind happens (or not happens) to be blowing that exact day.
Although our immediate impulse with falling into talking about the weather might be to simply fill an awkward lag of time in speaking with someone, talking about the weather is arguably a mindfulness-based practice. You mindfully observed the present moment and the environmental circumstances you just so happen to find yourself in. Whether we are conscious of it or not, every day, the weather brings us back exactly to where we are on earth. It reminds us of our seasonality (oscillating between outward expansion and inward growth). It reminds us of how we feel in our bodies (embracing warm sunshine on the skin or curling up in a sweater on a crisp day).
As much as we might try to resist or reject certain weather patterns (defiantly wearing sandals in winter or hibernating in our AC caves during the summer): there is no changing the weather. It exists and persists exactly how it does that day, changing the next in subtle or dramatic ways.
If there is one thing we can all relate to as humans living on this earth, it’s that we all experience the weather each and every day in the places we live in and travel to. The one universal, and arguably most over-used, conversation topic, is also the one that connects us all. The shared and discussed emotions, feelings, and existence of living that day in the same place as someone else, under the same sky, experiencing the same weather…is actually a beautiful practice of presence. And a beautiful part of being human.
So let’s talk about the weather.
Tell me about what you noticed during your walk outside.
Tell me how you felt when the clouds parted after that rainstorm.
Tell me why you’re so excited spring is here.
Tell me how your garden is doing today.
Tell me who you became when the cool air wrapped around you after the sun set.
Tell me where the snow is falling.
Tell me when the weather is nice.
And let me listen. Let me share my niceties and daily weather observations. Let us connect in this brief moment in time, together, and marvel at the shared simplicity of presence.
How easy it is to get lost in our own thoughts and stories.
And how guaranteed it is that the weather ushers us back to the here and now.
In a world of constant change, presence with where you are and what is happening right before you is everything.