Being authentic

I looked through the glass enclosure at the chameleon. The tiny lizard had a brownish color and pattern that blended into the base of tree. It was hard to tell where he ended, and the tree began. If it weren’t for a sign identifying him and giving basic information on the life of a chameleon, I suspect most of the people standing around the exhibit and pointing to the little guy would have passed right by thinking it was empty.

Scientists now believe that chameleons change color depending on light and temperature and that the color reflects their moods. They use the color to send social signals to other chameleons. For example, darker colors tend to mean a chameleon is angry, lighter colors might be used to attract mates. 

What are you hiding?

Chameleons can be crazy little creatures, but we have more in common with them than we might think. We conceal our identities and secrets from those around us. We put up fronts. We hide what we’re really feeling. 

I know I do it. I sometimes worry about being an imposter and stay small instead of speaking up and rising to the situation. For example, here’s one small way. I rarely hold my hands out for others to see. I tend to be a worrier and have a bad habit of biting my nails, so when I’m around people I tend to hide my hands. It’s a nervous tic but something I’ve always done. 

We’re scared to be real and open to others. Ironically, I find that my best work is when I’m authentic and vulnerable. There are lots of things that prevent me from truly being open. Like most folks, I have an ego. Plus, it takes a lot of work to let your guard down. You need to trust that you won’t be made a fool. You need to trust that good will come from it.

Truly living

As I thought more about my efforts to be vulnerable, I thought about the book, When Breath Becomes Air, where Paul Kalanithi details how he was a neurological surgery resident and had a postdoctoral fellowship in neuroscience in 2013 when he was diagnosed with stage-4 non-small-cell lung cancer. 

Kalanithi would end up dying from the cancer, but his New York Times Best Seller book published posthumously detailed his fight. In the book, he wrote, “the future I had imagined, the one just about to be realized, the culmination of decades of striving, evaporated.”

But what really struck me is the comment his wife wrote in the acknowledgments: “He let himself be open and vulnerable, let himself be comforted. Even while terminally ill, Paul was fully alive.”

While Kalanithi’s story is incredibly sad, it uplifts me to know that even when we’re in life’s most challenging situations, authenticity and being vulnerable is what drives us and bring us the most fulfillment.

Here’s to be being open and honest.