I Do Not Know How to Pick Flowers: Testament to an American Childhood

Standing on the edge of a steep cliff and looking out into Armenia’s pristine natural environment brings about a sense of clarity and peace. Lingering under the dark shadows of the Haghartsin Monastery connects one with the dynastic worlds of our forefathers. Looking out through the dusty trails at the homes of the locals transplants one to a time and place that we recognize, but do not fully understand. The outlines of far-off villages stand out like scars through the landscape, morphing together the pain of their creation and the beauty of their endurance.  The dizzying churn of chatter and laughter only hint at the centuries of human persistence at that very time and place.

Yet, through all the grandeur provided by the surrounding environment, I could not keep my attention away from the thousands of small wildflowers that lightly dotted the hillsides. Beautiful shades of white, yellow and purple added the perfect touch of color to the cool, dark atmosphere.  With the whisper of our passage lingering throughout the majestic monastery and its surroundings, we began to gather to continue onto the next leg of our journey.  I went over to one of these flowers and “picked” it. I tugged too close to the bulb and the entire flower crumbled into my palm. I tried again, but the next one fell victim in the same manner. Disappointed, I turned and walked away. A friend, upon seeing this situation unfold, jokingly asked, “do you not know how to pick flowers?” Lightly holding the flower, he demonstrated how moving it from the stem repeatedly in an opposite direction could release the flower. I was surprised. This was simple and I was not used to simple.

I had never really known how to pick flowers, nor had I ever wanted to. The purely simple task of picking a flower had not ever presented itself to me as even the least gratifying. It was so easy to become lost into a whirlwind of school, family, meetings, organizations, responsibilities and externalities. The simple things in life had gotten lost somewhere along the way. The constant search for identity, ever-changing standards, and constant expectations can take a lot out of a person. Life had always been about knowing what I wanted and charting how I wanted to achieve it. In a matter of a short time, I’ve realized that there are so many intricacies to our surroundings that we neglect. We close ourselves off to challenges and dictate ourselves on a set identity we have created. Embracing challenges allows us to foster our innate sense of being, looking past what we have fabricated for ourselves for our personal benefits and peace of mind.

Coming to Armenia, I have realized that life is a lot simpler than we make it out to be. Life is simple. We are complex. The fusion of the general simplicity with life’s challenges can blind a person to all that is important. Simplicity is elusive. We don’t need to know where to look for it or how to look for it. We just need to look. We need to take the time out from the constant hum and drum and just appreciate our surroundings. People do not rush here. They take the time to sit on the bench at the park. They have real conversations. Life here is not about subsidizing time between Point A and Point B, but about making each point worthwhile. We meet people here and we remember them. We do things for the right reasons, not based on calculations but simply because they make us happy.

Thus far, my time in Armenia has brought about an unexpected sense of clarity. It has presented many challenges, but it has also given me the gift of perspective. It is up to me to embrace this gift.  Simple wildflowers on a hillside have taught me how to look at things with a new sense of appreciation. Look at everything with a new set of eyes and learn to not take things for granted. There is wonder and beauty in every situation and it is completely up to us to figure how it manifests itself.
Nare Kupelian