The Chameleon

Photo by Martin Kleppe on Unsplash

I am a Chameleon—not literally, thank God, not the scaly-skinned reptilian form—but just as a chameleon can change its colors to mimic its environment, I seem to become and inhabit the environment I am in. If there is chaos all around, I become chaotic; if I am in a peaceful environment, most often in nature, I relax and become fully engaged in this environment. That said, there are certain advantages and disadvantages to interacting with the world this way. Even in casual meetings with people—a quick chat with a stranger or a friend—I can feel their angst, that quiet tension or worry they’re carrying, but I can also feel their joy, the little spark when something makes them light up. It all comes in, changing how I feel until I step away and reset. And when I sense someone’s angst or sadness, and the situation is appropriate, I try to make a positive impact, and it often works.

I’ve long been drawn to people who seem calm, whether in real life or on screen. I’m drawn to those who respond calmly to stressful situations or simply exude calm. My wife has owned a successful construction company and has had to deal with a number of stressful situations, including employees accidentally shooting a nail from a nail gun into their hand or foot, or any number of ways a person can get hurt on a construction site. She would calmly handle the situation and often be the one to take them to the emergency room.

When I ran my garden center, a dear friend would create landscape drawings for our customers. Sarah exuded calmness, and I found myself drawn to her for that. Simply being around her helped me manage (barely) the stress of running my own business. Finally, one day I asked her what her secret was, and how she stayed so calm and focused. Sarah attributed most of it to her practice of Transcendental Meditation (TM).
I asked her more about it, picturing some long-bearded yogi sitting cross-legged in a lotus position on a mountaintop, which sounded a little out there to this garden-center guy from Nashville. But at that point, I was willing to try most anything. The next thing you know, my wife and I had signed up for the course.
We both practiced this type of meditation for a short while, but during most of my sessions, I would simply fall asleep. I know I didn’t get the full benefits everyone talks about, but I sure did enjoy the sleep—maybe my body figured a good nap was the enlightenment I needed right then.

I would seek out these personality types throughout my days at the garden center, always looking forward to seeing them again. Many became my friends.

As you’ve probably already figured out, I look for peaceful conditions whenever and wherever I can find them. I’ve built my life around spaces, places, and people that nurture this mindset and lifestyle. I have discovered, through my many contacts in the plant world and the inspired writings of others, a community of like-minded souls, and this has made a world of difference. I’m also a realist, knowing we don’t always have any (or ever do) have control of our lives. Life can throw us off or throw us to the ground at any moment. We can’t live in a bubble, even if we try.

A tranquil scene in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park

My struggle between calm and chaos continues. I can only hear my inner voice when I can find solitude and time in nature. In those moments, the world quiets, and I remember that calm isn’t something I have to chase forever—it’s something I can return to, again and again.