Moment by moment, we focus on the things that matter to us. Food, music, spending time with loved ones, that latest episode of the show we like, and so on. Our life moves on like this, because it must. But once in a while, an event cuts through it so violently that ordinary perception becomes impossible. Like someone shaking you awake when your mind dulls into sleep. Like a flash of lightning in the dark of night1. For a moment, everything appears strange and clear.

The day before yesterday2, July 2, 2026, a Tibetan named Lobsang Palden, widely known as Lobga Rangzen, self-immolated in front of the United Nations office in New York to protest for the freedom of Tibet and its people. He was taken to Bellevue Hospital where he succumbed to his burns. He was a 52-year-old resident of Queens, beloved by many and known for his kindness and generosity. Before setting himself ablaze, he had set up his phone on a sidewalk and started live-streaming on Facebook. As far as we know, this would be the first self-immolation in the United States for the Tibetan cause. By a conservative estimate, there have been more than 150 self-immolations across Tibet, India, Nepal and the rest of the world since 2009.

An article from the New York Post was quickly released with the initial title of “Lunatic sets himself on fire…” before promptly changing it to current title “Protester with Tibetan flag fatally sets himself on fire outside UN headquarters in NYC.” Putting aside the immense carelessness in their first headline, I can understand the initial bewilderment of outsiders. For of course, who would set themselves on fire willingly if not a lunatic? If a person wants to die by suicide, there are easier ways that are less painful. Why choose self-immolation? Did this lunatic not know how painful that would be?

But of course he did. The simple fact of the matter is that like any of us, he probably didn’t want to die. He chose self-immolation as a severe form of non-violent protest because he believed that “China would never listen to us”3 and that only such an unfathomable act of desperation could draw attention to the human rights issue of Tibet. Like a flash of lightning in the dark of night.

The desperation that Lobga la4 must have experienced is unlike any kind of desperation many of us have ever experienced and will likely experience. It is a spiritual desperation. To be so acutely aware of the waning hope for Tibetan Freedom. To recognize Tibetans falling into comfort in exile. And to feel that he had to do something for his people and his nation. To be able to feel so deeply about one’s people and one’s nation must have been both a gift and a curse.

Lobga la in another livestream speaks about his decision. He stated that his actions were motivated by his commitment to the Tibetan cause and not by any personal circumstances, preempting any accusations of mental or material derangement. He cited the lack of freedom under Chinese occupation in Tibet, and condemned policies aimed at eradicating the Tibetan people like the new Ethnic Unity Law. His final words, aimed directly at the Tibetans in exile, were: “I don’t want you to mourn for me, I want you to continue the struggle for Tibetan independence, because the lack of independence is the root of all our problems. Bhoe Gyalo, Bhoe Rangzen Gyalo [Victory to Tibet. Victory to Tibetan Independence].”

By reflex, one can argue that there are more effective ways to fight for one’s cause than self-immolation. If nothing else, think about the optics they can say. I can admit that I would also say similar things. Moreover, this is the official stance of the Central Tibetan Administration who stated that “While we honor his devotion, human life is precious and must be preserved to serve the long-term struggle for Tibet.”5 But I also understand that we have not walked as Lobga Rangzen la. We have not lived his life.

We were not born in the Kham province of Tibet where Chinese repression still remains the strongest. We did not flee into exile through the Himalayan mountains into an entirely new country whose language and people we did not know. We did not have to toil through the most uncertain stages of Tibetan exile. We do not have our brother taken as a political prisoner in Tibet. Ultimately, none of us can say what we would have done if we walked his life. Of course, we can and must question the act of self-immolation and discourage it. But we should begin such questions with humility.

Personal tragedies are difficult. But in a way, they are legible. Losing your parents, losing your children, losing your friends, we can understand that and the grief it brings, we can relate to. But how do we begin to understand cultural and generational tragedies? And how it permeates us and those around us? Consider the historical memories that an average Tibetan holds on to.

Struggling against the ‘People’s Liberation Army’ of China for 10 years, before losing our nation in 1959. Being the subject of a massacre in our capital city while providing a safe path for our leader (the 14th Dalai Lama) to escape.6 Memories of Cultural Revolution stripping Tibetans of everything we held dear, including our lives.7 Rebuilding from the ground up the lives we had lost, in exile. The 2008 protest for Human Rights against the Beijing Olympics where many Tibetans were killed.8 More than 150 self-immolations, the pictures, videos, and stories of which are embedded in our psyche. Every Tibetan has either directly suffered under China or knows someone dear who has. Even the ones who have not directly suffered discover the subtle ways in which they are compromised.

By chance or by fate, born as Tibetans, we are all too aware of this ambient existential pain. This pain doesn’t wash away by itself. We may repress it but that’s not a permanent solution. Every Tibetan has to contend with it. As victims, we have to be both gracious in our suffering and skillful in fighting for our freedom. We have to do the difficult work of continually identifying the right enemy, the Chinese government and not the Chinese people, and not become indiscriminately hateful. We have to be stubborn and hopeful that our actions from the grassroots to the Tibetan community can lead us to Independence, Rangzen. On top of that, we have to do what every other human being has to do, live our own lives! We lost our nation to China and that loss still haunts us. Is it still right then, to call Lobga la’s action mere lunacy?

A flash of lightning illuminates everything but it also overwhelms. You see everything, but only for a moment. And as the light wanes and darkness sets in again, you have the difficult task of piecing and maintaining the entire picture. My experience when I heard about Lobga la’s self-immolation was the same. I felt angry, helpless, patriotic, ashamed, guilty, indifferent, sympathetic, and back to angry and circled through these emotions.9 I won’t speak on behalf of other Tibetans but I imagine that almost all of us have been overwhelmed in much the same manner. Therefore, for those who can write, they should write. For those who can speak, they should speak. For those who can pray, they should pray. Every one of us will be here to piece our picture together.

I keep Shantideva’s stanza close to my heart. It captures the unique human condition where for a single moment, everything appears clearly. For a moment, the mind realizes the highest of its purpose - to be virtuous. But as quickly as the realization sets in, as quickly as it disappears. Lobga la’s self-immolation has invoked much emotion within me, as it has within all Tibetans. But we should take care that it doesn’t become just another historical memory. Letting it become so would be a profound moral failure. It has happened to us many times. I have let it happen on my watch. Let us make sure to not let it happen again. We should take care that this is the last of such tragedies.

For too many lightning flashes is not a revelation but a storm.