Recently, my Mussar[1] study partner and I delved into a chapter of With Heart in Mind called “Limiting Conversation.” The reading invited us to look critically at the amount of meaningless talk in our lives, with an eye towards being more thoughtful and intentional in our exchanges with others.

Having avoided small talk for many years now, at first blush this was barely a challenge for me. For example, if my close friends aren’t able to meet me in the pool, I choose to work out alone, ignoring everyone else around me after exchanging brief salutations. I much prefer to remain in my own head than be drawn into meaningless conversations about diets, reality television shows, or the price of gasoline. Occasionally I worry about being considered a snob, but not enough to want to join the conversations. Left alone, I often enjoy imagining the stories of everyone’s lives, quietly and at my own pace.

At the pool, I’ve been able to convince myself (and hopefully everyone else) that my desire for solitude is justified because I want to move more quickly or more slowly than everyone else walking or jogging around me. Unfortunately, in other venues, such as the supermarket, the medical clinic’s waiting room, or the synagogue, I haven’t had such convenient excuses and I sometimes feel trapped like a captive audience.

One of my close friends often sees me grow restless and impatient when acquaintances rattle on. He sometimes gently reminds me that these individuals are probably lonely, or have some other reason that propels them to talk. After he says this, I feel remorseful for my attitude and behavior, but sadly, so far, my commitment to change disappears by the time it’s happening again.

In re-reading my own blog post from last week about more careful listening, I realize that I am not proud of my impatience and intolerance. I can see that by withdrawing, I am disengaging from a live person and not simply from the talk. Do I really want to push people away? Are the stories I invent about people truly more interesting than the people themselves? What is so urgent about what’s in my own head that can’t wait until I am alone? Where is the generous spirit that I wish to cultivate in myself?

While I will probably never be easily drawn to small talk, I recognize there is a growth opportunity for me right here and right now. For many reasons, I hope to actually push against my conversational limits, and indulge more in some small talk, learning to appreciate that it can be a bridge connecting me to the rest of humanity.

[1] “…Mussar …imparts wisdom and tools for character development grounded in Torah and the classical Mussar tradition, enabling all Jews to elevate their souls–and through them, those of all humankind–to holiness. Spiritual growth is supported through the development of community and through individual Mussar learning and practice applied to everyday life.” (from The Mussar Institute’s website)