Camouflage

A few weeks ago, I was walking in the woods when I happened upon a chipmunk. I didn’t notice it until it moved—then its white spots suddenly flashed into view. A moment later, I saw a deer. While it stood still, it was completely camouflaged—at least to me. (My dog, however, noticed it instantly, which is what tipped me off.)  As the deer bolted, its white tail flared up like a flag, almost as if to say, “Hit me here with your bow and arrow.”
That got me thinking: Why does nature give animals such effective camouflage, only to build in what seem like flaws? Maybe the animals themselves believe they’re invisible and safe—until they move at just the wrong moment and expose themselves.

And then I started thinking about us—about our karma. We do so many things to stay safe and secure: we wear seat belts, eat well, save money, build routines, even lean on superstitions. For a time, it feels like we’re protected. And then something unexpected sideswipes us, and we think: What did I do wrong? If only I hadn’t…

But maybe it’s not about doing something wrong. Maybe, like the deer and the chipmunk—both hidden until they aren't—our lives unfold as part of a much larger pattern. Maybe the "flaws" in our protection, like the flaw in the camouflage, aren’t mistakes at all.

It might sound bleak—but maybe it’s not. Maybe what we call misfortunes—the things that derail our carefully made plans—aren’t punishments or failures. The Bhagavad Gita suggests that these events are part of our karmic stream. They aren’t random. They’ve been written into the story of our lives from the beginning.

I’ve never liked the term “teaching moments”—it feels too shallow. Yes, these experiences help us mature and grow wiser, but maybe they do more than that. Perhaps they’re how we become who we’re meant to be. Each unexpected turn shapes us.

My teacher used to compare life to a rock tumbler: rough stones tossed and jostled with force until they come out polished, revealing them to be the gleaming gems they always were.
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If we cling to our camouflage—if we hold still just to avoid being seen, avoid being vulnerable—we might miss the polishing altogether. We might miss the chance to become who we truly are.