I awoke this morning and opened the LA Times to find this picture in my face. The part of my mind hooked into the country in which I live felt anger. I peeled it away like the skin of an onion. The part of my heart that was left in Serbia after journeying there a few years back, wept. I peeled away another layer of the onion. And there was my soul dancing with the Serbian women on the wing of a downed F-117 "stealth" fighter. I had to think about that for a long time. My heart aches but my soul dances at this war. Why? Because this time I have made a choice. It is just too painful not to. And it should be painful. What is so different about the war in Kosovo? Nothing except that CNN is there rubbing it in all our faces, showing us what we as humans have done to each other through all our history.

It isn't ascetically pleasing for people trying to lose themselves in "happy consumer Utopia" to see all this. There are the "good guys" and the "bad guys" and throughout history all nations and peoples have been on both sides of the fence. Round and round it goes, this karmatically self perpetuating habit of sadness and pain and the seductive trap of justifying it all by judging oneself to be "right." Ethnic cleansing is a depravation of the soul, but do we in the west have some moral lesson to teach anyone. I think of the spiritual depravity of someone who spends 50 billion dollars to create a weapon that can kill thousands and remain "unseen." Everything is seen! Fools!

In the beginning of the Catholic ceremony of the Mass there is a prayer; "father forgive us of our sins, all that we have done and all that we have failed to do." Who can imagine all the good we failed to do by spending 50 billion on this technology of death. One wing of that bomber cost more money than the USA puts into all its programs to develop the arts or peace studies.

Why are we so impressed with technology that has not and never will bring peace? Has it saved one life in Kosovo? And now we are developing some mysterious ray bomb that kills all life forms but keeps buildings in tact. That is how much we worship the "material" now; save the buildings and property but incinerate the Humans. We still invest in war but have "evolved" to where we don't want it to be "messy." And we are moral?

The battle of Kosovo is going to be of much more significance than we ever knew. Even the Serbs have really forgotten why Kosovo means so much to them, and now all of us.

Westerners have not heard the full story of what happened there some 600 years ago. On the night before the battle with the Turks, a form of God appeared to the Serbian king in a dream. He gave him a choice. "Do you choose to win the battle of the Spirit or the battle of the World?" The king chose to win the battle of the spirit and the next day lost to the Turks. Being a Christian king, to win the battle of the Spirit means to follow the teachings of Christ, which is to treat all Beings with kindness no matter what religion or ethnic background.

And that is the lesson. Until the Serbs live up to that promise they will lose Kosovo over and over again. But the lesson goes further. That Serb king made that decision for all peoples. Until we humans live up to that decision to win the battle of the spirit, we will all lose at the battle of Kosovo, over and over again. There will be no winner and loser at Kosovo. Either we will all win together or we will all lose together.

I will not wait for the so-called "leaders" to make this decision for me. I choose it my self. I pledge my love and loyalty to my Serb friends in Belgrade, Pancevo, Amsterdam and the US. I pledge my love and loyalty to my Muslim friends in Kosovo and Sarajevo. And I pledge my love and loyalty to my American friends, Russian friends, to all my friends in the world.

But I go further. If designer jeans and shoes, nice cars and beautiful people who put money before love, is all that this world can offer me for supporting this war machine, then I joyfully put a target on my chest with my Serb brothers and sisters. I joyfully choose death, laughing and dancing on the wing of a piece of useless junk.