Dancing on the Brink of the World

March 24, 2022

Sometimes I find myself wishing for the destruction of the Russian military and the assassination of Vladimir Putin. I guess such thoughts make me a bad Buddhist. But at least they show that my shadow side is alive and well. Is that a good thing?

At other times I’ve tried to redeem myself by sending positive vibes not only to the Ukrainian soldiers and civilians, but also to the young Russian conscripts and their karma-creating commander in chief. Putin may turn a blind eye now to the horrible suffering he’s inflicting upon the Ukrainian people, but wait until he finds out about the law of cause and effect. Poor Vladimir. I’ll shed some crocodile tears for him now, and pity him for real when, after death, it dawns on him what he has done to millions of others and to himself.

The Bible says, Thou shalt not kill. But in this war we have Russian Orthodox Christians killing Ukrainian Orthodox Christians. Even the Patriarch of the Russian Orthodox Church supports Putin and his war. Have the teachings of Jesus made even the slightest dent in the Russian psyche?

Buddhists seem to have a better track record than Christians when it comes to war and genocide. But not always. The recent mass killing of Rohingya Muslims in Myanmar/Burma was reportedly instigated in part by deluded, rabble-rousing Buddhist monks.

It’s comforting to know that I’m not the only Buddhist reprobate.

Yet if Buddhism, like Christianity, has a strong emphasis on non-violence, what about the right to self defense? Should the Ukrainian people surrender their country and their freedom to a modern-day Hitler? If Putin threatens to use or actually does use chemical or biological weapons or tactical nuclear weapons against Ukraine, or other European countries, or the United States, should we allow ourselves to be cowed into submission in order to save lives and preserve Western civilization? I’m glad I’m not in Joe Biden’s shoes.

I don’t know what I would do if war came to my doorstep, and for that matter I don’t know what I’d do if an armed intruder came into my apartment. I don’t have a gun, and don’t want one. Would I defend my country if it was invaded? Or would I practice some form of non-violent resistance? Probably the latter, but it’s hard to know for sure. I guess I’d just have to trust myself to choose the best response in that moment.

A few nights ago I attended a live performance of Dancing With the Stars, the TV program whose performers are currently on the road. I’ve never seen the TV series, and there were no celebrities in the road show, but I was curious to see their professional dancers in a traveling production. The show was terrific. The choreography was outstanding, and the high energy sexy young dancers were superb. The female dancers wore beautiful, skimpy costumes that showed off their bodies, and the male dancers were shirtless to display their strong, athletic torsos.

For a moment during the performance my mind wandered back to thoughts about the war in Ukraine, and I briefly felt guilty about enjoying entertainment that was shallow compared to the immense misery and drama being experienced by millions of people in a different part of the world. How could I enjoy music and dance while bombs were falling on civilians in Ukraine? But then I reflected that war and other kinds of suffering are always happening somewhere on the planet, and life must go on in war and in peace, so why not appreciate whatever good fortune we might have while we can? I knew that the glamour and glitz of Dancing With the Stars were transient, as are life and death, so I chose to let go of my guilt and escape for a short time into the romantic fantasy of being young, beautiful, and in love.

The Ohlone people, the original inhabitants of much of the San Francisco Bay Area, had a song that contained a phrase that has survived until the present day. The song lyric captured the precariousness and fleeting nature of life on this planet: Dancing on the brink of the world.

What a wonderful way to keep our spirits up during a time of war and planetary upheaval: singing and dancing on the brink of the world.