Reframing

On March 17, 1959, Tenzin Gyatso had to make a choice.

By then, the Chinese Liberation Army had surrounded Lhasa, Tibet’s capital. Nine years of negotiation between Tibet and Communist China resulted in little prospect for peace.

A Chinese military officer invited Tenzin, then 23 years old, to a “dance show.” The officer demanded his bodyguards stay home.

The signs were clear: If Tenzin stayed in Tibet, the Chinese would arrest him. He would likely disappear from the face of the earth.

The only other option—escaping—was equally unthinkable. He would have to depart immediately, sneak past the Chinese military, and summit 19,000 feet up the Himalayas with little planning. Snowstorms, sandstorms, anything could happen.

Above all, what would be the fate of his country if he left? How about the lives of the millions who viewed him as the spiritual leader?


South African Archbishop Desmond Tutu asked The 14th Dalai Lama 56 years later, “You had to leave behind the country you love the most. Why are you not sad?”

The Dalai Lama, who had been in exile in India ever since, replied[1]:

We lost our own country and became refugees, but that same experience gave us new opportunities to see more things.

If you look from one angle, you feel, oh how bad, how sad.
But if you look from another angle at that same tragedy, that same event, you see that it gives me new opportunities.
Personally, I prefer the last five decades of refugee life. It’s more useful, more opportunity to learn, to experience life.
That’s the main reason that I’m not sad and morose.
There’s a Tibetan saying: ‘Wherever you have friends that’s your country, and wherever you receive love, that’s your home.’

[1] See this video (part of the Netflix documentary Mission: Joy). The interview between Desmond Tutu and The Dalai Lama was first transcribed in The Book of Joy, one of my favorite books.