Small talk quickly bores me, and I tune out when I lose interest. I like robust, meaningful conversations about ideas, frustrations, facing challenges, or what scares us. My two favorite topics are religion and politics, which are just the topics to avoid in "polite" conversation. Unfortunately, this limits the number of people with whom I can have a real conversation. I imagine this makes many people feel I'm too intense, so I tame myself and try not to go too deep too quickly. But since I am now consciously observing my conversations more closely, I wonder if I am missing better conversations by ignoring some low-hanging fruit beyond small talk. Not every conversation has to turn into a dynamic revelation. How can I open the door a little wider to a more meaningful conversation?
What makes a conversation small talk? Here is a quick definition:
Small talk refers to an informal, polite conversation that often focuses on unimportant or trivial topics. While such social transactions focus on inconsequential topics, they serve as important ways to build rapport, connection, and relationships.
From verywellmind.com
A recent conversation with another couple over dinner helped me see a positive dimension to small talk. My wife and I meet this couple regularly (let's call them Joe and Kathy) and feel well-matched in conversation (which is never easy for two couples to feel like all four can handle a good talk.). As I listened, I noticed they were very good at small talk. They are in the moment and balance sharing information with asking questions. When we set out a cheese plate, they shared their delight in the flavors and asked where we got such good cheese. This comment led to several conversation threads about food, which restaurants were still open in the winter, and the new Costco near Portland (This news is a big deal here in Maine. The first Costco in the state ranked as a top 10 news story in the Portland Press Herald.).
With skilled speakers, a conversation about where to get the best quality and prices, interesting places to visit on a day off, and neighborhood news is enjoyable-for about 30 minutes. I'm glad to know the best places to snow-shoe and the inside story of why our favorite restaurant closed. But I would like to know how they are coping with the rising threat of authoritarianism or how we can rebuild our shattered civic discourse. Did I mention I worry about being too intense? My wife, Jeanne, and I can discuss these things for hours.
Fortunately, Jeanne is good at going deeper and drawing people out. Joe just told us an interesting historical anecdote about how our little island (Barter's Island) played a role in Revolutionary War history. Jeanne probed deeper and asked, "Are you reading local history for a reason, like starting a new book?" He was delighted to be asked and shared with us the premise of a novel he was contemplating. We peppered him with questions that got him thinking, and I could add that our church had published a local history of the congregation's founding from the era he was researching.
Curiosity is necessary, from moving past small talk to enriched sharing. It can keep the conversation from only trading interesting facts, experiences, anecdotes, and more about what is really important to us. Many people are too modest to say, "I'm thinking of writing a new book. Would you like to hear about it?" I'm not sure, but who says no? Jeanne reminded me not to wander away from the conversation because of small talk but to use curiosity to look for a hook to catch something more important.
As we moved towards dessert, I was inspired to be proactive as the conversation lulled. It was shortly after New Year's, so I asked, "What are you hoping for in the New Year?" Steve had been through a significant health scare with a rare form of fast-moving cancer. They expressed gratitude to be through the worst of the treatment and moving toward better health. A brush with death reminded them to focus more on what matters in life, build deeper relationships, and not procrastinate on things like starting a new book. Jeanne talked about the changes she felt after her mother's death in September and how she hopes to navigate the challenges of supporting her 93-year-old father, who lives in Virginia.
The simple, open-ended question, "What are you hoping for in the New Year?" opened thirty minutes of deeper sharing about what was really happening in our lives. I was so engaged I forgot to say anything about myself. Kathy noticed and asked me what I was hoping. I decided that I needed to be as vulnerable as they were, but I didn't have the same life-altering events in my life. So, I said what worries me most. I said I hoped to build a stronger religious community that was open and less judgmental. I fear that Christianity is becoming defined by the meanest and most narrow voices, and I want to show a more compassionate version of religion exists.
We haven't discussed religion with this couple, and I know they are not churchgoers. I'm always careful as a pastor not to look like I'm trying to win them over for church. Pastors just weird out some people. But being vulnerable opened the door to interesting questions. Joe, who is likely between agnostic and atheist, asked some good probing questions about my thoughts on church corruption. He was surprised to find some of my critics of religion matched his. Kathy talked about how frustrated she was with the Catholic church of her youth and could no longer tolerate the hypocrisy. Yet she longs for the ritual and sense of meaning she sometimes felt.
I cherish this conversation, and it is a primer for me to re-examine my grumpy attitude about small talk. Don't disdain the small exchanges, but stay curious and look for the opening to something important that lurks just beyond what is being shared. Ask the open-ended question about what people hope. And don't be afraid to reveal something more personal. Creating the environment for this to happen is a gift.
This post is a modest beginning to discussing conversation as a spiritual practice. I'd love to hear what thoughts it may stir for you. I want to address deeper issues of reshaping our national discourse, talking through significant divides and differences, and how to have hard and healing conversations. But I'm starting with the everyday interactions that begin with small talk. I'm working at being more conscious and self-aware of what is being said and not tuning out in boredom. You must plant some seeds to get to a burning bush.
This is a wonderful reflection Todd. I feel the same as you about small talk, I struggle to open up sometimes and often feel like I don't have anything interesting or light hearted to share about my own life - I'm much better at asking questions. My father in law, however, makes it look easy and seems to have stories or anecdotes for everything!
I tend to ask questions that don’t always have a gentle start up, so I liked your approach to having deep meaningful discourse with the right amount of small talk. As a mother in the suburbs, I find young “kids” and babies to be a great entry point for me, and it’s unlike anything else. Like people are so eager to approach people with babies, at the mall or public places, and have small talk, maybe even encouraging talk “you’re doing great, it’s hard but it gets easier trust me it’s not always going to be like this” Like on airplanes when you try to help the nervous parent with the fussy child just by smiling. It gives me hope in our shared humanity that people can still have small talk that grows deeper. Thank you