Candid Conversations Newsletter: On Weather, and Changing Conditions

 We’re more connected than we think.

It was a long weekend, the type that makes you want to drive a little farther than usual. Montreal was close enough, yet far enough to feel distant. I had heard good things and wanted to experience the vibe for myself.

I arrived late, just in time for a final glass and a fleeting view at a wine bar that was already closing. It felt right to call it a night, walk slowly back to my hotel, and commit to meeting the next day with more intention.

The morning opened with clear blue skies, the kind you want to stretch out and savor. Promising. I set out to visit a few places I had mapped ahead of time, mostly to wander and get a feel for the city. I had recently accepted an offer that would have me living there, so this trip felt like a quiet introduction.

The day began like any other beautiful morning. Then, without warning, the temperature dropped. Rain followed. Then flurries. Then snow. Then rain again. Within six hours, the weather shifted five times, leaving me confused, cold, and slightly disoriented.

Change, Like the Weather 🌦️

These past few weeks have felt like a return to that weekend in Montreal. Grey skies. Cold, heavy days. Snowstorms, Arctic chills, thunderstorms, torrential rain. Weather that leaves you exhausted, cloudy, unmotivated, and lackluster.

It made me wonder how many others are affected by this kind of weather. How many people feel the shift before they can name it. That question alone felt reason enough to start pulling back the layers.

When it’s sunny, I notice a change in myself. I feel lighter. More motivated. Eager to make something of the day. That curiosity led me to ask why. That’s when neurotransmitters gave language to what I was feeling.

Sunlight, it turns out, plays a profound role in regulating mood. It boosts serotonin, the brain’s “feel-good” chemical, helping with calmness, focus, and emotional balance. Increased sun exposure also raises vitamin D levels, lowers stress-inducing cortisol, and helps regulate sleep cycles. All of this helps guard against Seasonal Affective Disorder, or SAD, a form of depression most common during months with reduced sunlight.

Funny how a simple Google search can send you down a neurotransmitter rabbit hole. Even funnier when it ends up explaining something you’ve been quietly carrying.

Grab Your Jacket 🥶

I usually watch the local news in the morning before heading out. It gives me a sense of what to expect, weather-wise and otherwise. But how much can we really prepare for the shifts that come at us in life?

A friend recently asked me a question.

“How are they only now learning that life comes with inevitable, tumultuous change?”

I jokingly responded with a question of my own.

“How many Tesla cars did you pass on your way here today?”

They paused. “I don’t know.”

“Why not?”

“I wasn’t paying attention.”

And there it was. The answer hiding in plain sight.

How many things do we move through every day without paying attention to them?

Pathetic Fallacy 🥺

I credit my Whale-minded friend for introducing me to this term. Whenever the weather turns somber, it’s the first thing that comes to his mind.

Pathetic fallacy is the idea that we project our inner emotional state onto the world around us. That the storm outside mirrors the one within. That the grey sky feels heavier because we are.

There’s a strange comfort in that thought. In knowing that what feels personal is often shared. That across time and distance, others are responding to the same signals, even if they don’t yet have language for them.

Much like serotonin, or its absence. How a lack, sustained quietly over time, can shape how we feel, how we move, how we show up, without us ever realizing what’s influencing us. How sunlight affects circadian rhythm. How rhythm affects mood. How mood affects perception. How perception becomes reality.

Sunshine and Blue Skies🏖️

That weekend in Montreal did more than introduce me to a city. It made me more open, yet more prepared. It showed me how quickly things can shift, even when the day begins clear, and how little proximity matters when it comes to weather or change.

What begins as blue skies can end in flurries. What feels stable can turn without notice. And still, we adapt. We pull our jackets closer. We keep walking.

Over the past decade, weather has grown less predictable. Cold where there was once warmth. Heat where there was none. Extremes that no longer feel exceptional.

Maybe this, too, is a form of pathetic fallacy. Not just a reflection of our inner worlds, but of something collective. A quiet signal to pay attention to the shifts as they happen.

That first night in Montreal comes back to me now. Standing at the wine bar, glass in hand, the room already closing around me. A last look through the window. The street waiting outside.

I finished the glass, stepped into the night, and walked slowly back to the hotel, the air already changed, my jacket pulled closer, unaware of how fleeting what feels settled can be.

That walk back from the wine bar never left me.

Not as a moment.

But as a feeling.

A reminder that shifts rarely announce themselves, and that by the time we notice, they have already affected us.

Some shifts are personal. Others feel shared. And some exist somewhere in between.

Current Conditions 🌩️

How do we gauge our feelings, and the things that affect us? The thoughts that keep us awake at night, worrying about what’s ahead and lingering on what’s already gone. Quiet storms that erode the soil of our essence. Raging fires fueled by an anger that can’t be expressed because words elude us and context fails.

Perhaps pathetic fallacy offers a lens into the current moment. Dark. Grey. Cold. Textured. Gloomy.

Or perhaps it’s a reminder that the sun returns tomorrow, and our responsibility is not to control the weather, but to endure it.

After all, a farmer sees rain differently than a fisherman. If that’s the case, we have to leave space for perspective.

Until such time. Take an umbrella. A jacket. Wrap your neck with a scarf of your choosing. And endure.