How strange it would be. At two you’re proclaimed the next Dalai Lama. At six you begin your monastic studies, which continue for the next eighteen years. At fifteen, the Chinese invade your country, and you become the head of state. And at twenty-four, 50 years ago today, 300,000 of your loyal supporters surround your palace to prevent the Chinese from kidnapping you. Seven days later, after the Chinese attack your palace, you leave your homeland, never to return.
And yet, he still believes that happiness is the purpose of life, and that happiness comes from compassion. It’s a good thing.