What will I do if tomorrow is war?

For the last two months, almost every news outlet has been communicating a pretty clear message — Russia is about to invade Ukraine. To the many, the message seems to cause a good degree of excitement and thrill.

“One more problem that needs my genius solution", says every male expert on Facebook.

“One more matter to employ my vast knowledge of military history and armed conflict resolution", says every man who does not know either.

“One more chance to prove my self-worth”, says every man that knows no other way to prove his self-worth than bully and attack someone who doesn’t share his point of view.

I say men deliberately because men are the ones enjoying this nuisance the most. Another sentiment that I and most men do not share in common.

When you live far away from a potential disaster, news about it can send you into a galvanic spasm. At least, it can make you think about the privileges and blessings of living in relative peace. But I live in Ukraine, and I find such messages to be uppermost terrifying and, also, incredibly offensive.

I feel terrified because war is the most unpredictable happening, and I hate unpredictability, especially on such a large scale.

What will I do if tomorrow is war? Am I prepared? Can I run away when it all starts? Do plane flights get cancelled as soon as the enemy enters my home?

I didn’t study war in high school or uni. I know how to live peacefully, but I do not know how to live militantly.

I don’t know how to use a gun. I don’t know where to hide from bombardment. I don’t know how to survive without food, water and Instagram. I don’t know how to unbreak my heart when it gets broken after losing a loved one to a shot or a wreck of a building. I don’t know how to accept the unjust reality of war.

The latter is, also, the very thing that makes war incredibly offending.

Nothing justifies war — you should avoid it by any means. Adults often tell us this fairytale when we’re still too small to distinguish a lie from a truth. When you grow up, you understand that adults use wars and conflicts sparingly, with great enthusiasm and fervour. To prove that you are wrong. To stop you from moving forward. To distract themselves from the insecurities and fears that they’ve been trying to run away from for a very long time, but now they hurt too much and cannot lay unnoticed anymore.

The reality is — war is ubiquitous.

Relationships end up in an unresolved conflict. Minorities get bullied, stigmatised and killed by majorities. Different generations blame each other for being incompetent. Men assault Women. Women cancel Men. Governments are ready to sacrifice peace for great economic gains. Papers and coins are being exchanged for human lives when the exchange rate becomes particularly tempting.

Today, still, you’re a slave to more powerful people — and they can sell you without your consent.

It does feel offensive.

All my life, I’ve been investing in creative rather than destructive energy. Education. Peaceful Communication. Love. Compassion. Humaneness. But as it turns out, such naive investments can make you bankrupt — people can still lose their ability to talk, and people can still choose destruction over creation. When too many people lose their tongues, they will definitely cut yours as well — you will have very little chance to protest that.

Political commentators assure me that the current military discourse is no more than a farce or an old-school method to make your political demands heard. My romantic and hopeful self wants to believe that undoubtedly. Still, my pragmatic self plants a tiny seed of doubt in my mind, and it makes me wonder, again—what will I do if tomorrow is war?