His Holiness that last Dali Lama, the wish fulfilling jewel will be in Chicago as well ...

Public Talk in Chicago, Illinois, USA on May 6: His Holiness will give a public talk on Finding Inner Peace in A World of Turmoil. Contact: The Office of Tibet, 241 East 32 Street, NY, NY 10016 Tel: (212) 213-5010 Fax: (212) 779-9245 Email: otny@igc.org
Teaching in Chicago, Illinois, USA on May 6: His Holiness will give a teaching on Geshe Langri Thangpa’s Eight Verses of Training the Mind (lojong tsikgyama). Contact: The Office of Tibet, 241 East 32 Street, NY, NY 10016 Tel: (212) 213-5010 Fax: (212) 779-9245 Email: otny@igc.org

Read it, Book Mark It, Read it again DAILY ... I know I do

http://www.lifehack.org/articles/lifehack/top-ten-dalai-lama-tips.html


10. "Be gentle with the earth."
9. A loving atmosphere in your home is the foundation for your life."
8. "Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck."
7. "Open your arms to change, but don’t let go of your values."
6. "Share your knowledge. It is a way to achieve immortality."
5. "Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer."
4. "Spend some time alone every day."
3. "When you realize you’ve made a mistake, take immediate steps to correct it."
2. "When you lose, don’t lose the lesson."
And the number one quote from Tibet’s leader is fitting for us Valentines and Entrepreneurs alike:

1. "Take into account that great love and great achievements involve great risk."


Wash, Rinse, Repeat

Master Fate was telling me of his day at the zoo with his son, they had a statue at the zoo... and a story.....

Chief Seattle's Thoughts

How can you buy or sell the sky, the warmth of the land? The idea is strange to us.

If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them?

    Every part of this earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every clearing and humming insect is holy in the memory and experience of my people. The sap which courses through the trees carries the memories of the red man.

     The white man's dead forget the country of their birth when they go to walk among the stars. Our dead never forget this beautiful earth, for it is the mother of the red man. We are part of the earth and it is part of us. The perfumed flowers are our sisters; the deer, the horse, the great eagle, these are our brothers. The rocky crests, the juices in the meadows, the body heat of the pony, and man --- all belong to the same family.

    So, when the Great Chief in Washington sends word that he wishes to buy our land, he asks much of us. The Great Chief sends word he will reserve us a place so that we can live comfortably to ourselves. He will be our father and we will be his children.

     So, we will consider your offer to buy our land. But it will not be easy. For this land is sacred to us. This shining water that moves in the streams and rivers is not just water but the blood of our ancestors. If we sell you the land, you must remember that it is sacred, and you must teach your children that it is sacred and that each ghostly reflection in the clear water of the lakes tells of events and memories in the life of my people. The water's murmur is the voice of my father's father.

     The rivers are our brothers, they quench our thirst. The rivers carry our canoes, and feed our children. If we sell you our land, you must remember, and teach your children, that the rivers are our brothers and yours, and you must henceforth give the rivers the kindness you would give any brother

       We know that the white man does not understand our ways. One portion of land is the same to him as the next, for he is a stranger who comes in the night and takes from the land whatever he needs. The earth is not his brother, but his enemy, and when he has conquered it, he moves on. He leaves his father's grave behind, and he does not care. He kidnaps the earth from his children, and he does not care. His father's grave, and his children's birthright are forgotten. He treats his mother, the earth, and his brother, the sky, as things to be bought, plundered, sold like sheep or bright beads. His appetite will devour the earth and leave behind only a desert.

        I do not know. Our ways are different than your ways. The sight of your cities pains the eyes of the red man. There is no quiet place in the white man's cities. No place to hear the unfurling of leaves in spring or the rustle of the insect's wings. The clatter only seems to insult the ears. And what is there to life if a man cannot hear the lonely cry of the whippoorwill or the arguments of the frogs around the pond at night? I am a red man and do not understand. The Indian prefers the soft sound of the wind darting over the face of a pond and the smell of the wind itself, cleaned by a midday rain, or scented with pinon pine.

    The air is precious to the red man for all things share the same breath, the beast, the tree, the man, they all share the same breath. The white man does not seem to notice the air he breathes. Like a man dying for many days he is numb to the stench. But if we sell you our land, you must remember that the air is precious to us, that the air shares its spirit with all the life it supports.

      The wind that gave our grandfather his first breath also receives his last sigh. And if we sell you our land, you must keep it apart and sacred as a place where even the white man can go to taste the wind that is sweetened by the meadow's flowers.

         So we will consider your offer to buy our land. If we decide to accept, I will make one condition - the white man must treat the beasts of this land as his brothers.

         I am a savage and do not understand any other way. I have seen a thousand rotting buffaloes on the prairie, left by the white man who shot them from a passing train. I am a savage and do not understand how the smoking iron horse can be made more important than the buffalo that we kill only to stay alive.

      What is man without the beasts? If all the beasts were gone, man would die from a great loneliness of the spirit. For whatever happens to the beasts, soon happens to man.

3rd Rare White Buffalo Born on Wis. Farm

By EMILY FREDRIX

MILWAUKEE Sep 14, 2006 (AP)— A farm in Wisconsin is quickly becoming hallowed ground for American Indians with the birth of its third white buffalo, an animal considered sacred by many tribes for its potential to bring good fortune and peace.

"We took one look at it and I can't repeat what I thought but I thought, 'Here we go again,'" said owner Dave Heider.

Thousands of people stopped by Heider's Janesville farm after the birth of the first white buffalo, a female named Miracle who died in 2004 at the age of 10. The second was born in 1996 but died after three days.

Heider said he discovered the third white buffalo, a newborn male, after a storm in late August.

Over the weekend, about 50 American Indians held a drum ceremony to honor the calf, which has yet to be named, he said.

Floyd "Looks for Buffalo" Hand, a medicine man in the Oglala Sioux Tribe in Pine Ridge, S.D., said it was fate that the white buffaloes chose one farm, which will likely become a focal point for visitors, who make offerings such as tobacco and dream catchers in the hopes of earning good fortune and peace.

"That's destiny," he said. "The message was only choose one person."

The white buffalo is particularly sacred to the Cheyenne, Sioux and other nomadic tribes of the Northern Plains that once relied on the buffalo for subsistence.

According to a version of the legend, a white buffalo, disguised as a woman wearing white hides, appeared to two men. One treated her with respect, and the other didn't. She turned the disrespectful man into a pile of bones, and gave the respectful one a pipe and taught his people rituals and music. She transformed into a female white buffalo calf and promised to return again.

That this latest birth is a male doesn't make it any less significant in American Indian prophecies, which say that such an animal will reunite all the races of man and restore balance to the world, Hand said. He said the buffalo's coat will change from white to black, red and yellow, the colors of the various races of man, before turning brown again. ...

Native Americans of the Sioux nations have a legend that 2,000 years ago they were visited by a white buffalo calf who transformed into a beautiful Indian girl and taught the tribes seven sacred rituals. When she departed, she foretold of her return that was to be heralded by the birth of a white buffalo. The buffalo would change colors four times, black, red, yellow, and white (which she has since done - she is now the typical buffalo brown), to signify all of the peoples of the world that would be united in peace and harmony. In 1994, a white buffalo calf named Miracle was born on the Heider farm in Wisconsin, prompting over 20,000 visitors (including the Dalai Lama) of all races to make the pilgrimage to visit with the miraculous calf.

XOXO till more thoughts pop up.