There is a limitless array of ways that sudden death or injury can come to anyone, and conventional wisdom has it that statistically you are more likely to die slipping in the bathtub than in a burglary. When, then, am I so concerned with having a secure home? I am not terribly worried about being murdered in my sleep; that goes into the category of "events too large to be concerned with." Since I live alone — a situation that seems unlikely to change — my concern is primarily with material loss and disruption, and potential harm to my cats. Large amounts of time and money have being spent on increasing my level of security, but where is the point of diminishing returns? When do I say "enough," and start eliminating the need for any security at all?

As with many people, I have encased myself in things, built a crust through slow accretion of belongings. However, I enjoyed the ownership more when I had visitors to my museum of oddness; people would visit and look through the bookshelves and cabinets to find things they never knew existed — antique volumes of the history of Freemasonry, samples of outsider art, unevenly shaped glass marbles, a pair of 150-year old eyeglasses. Times change, though, and those days of random education have passed. Now their only purpose is for my own occasional amusement, or for research.

About four or five years ago there was a site I read, authored by a woman in Seattle. One day she realized that she had too much stuff, and made the decision to limit her material ownership to belongings she could fit in her hatchback. And just like that, it was done. Clothes are thought she might be able to wear again someday? Books she had loved? Keepsakes from her childhood? All donated or destroyed. When the project was complete all her possessions fit in a suitcase and a footlocker. If she bought a new book, when she was finished reading it she gave it away, or had to get rid of an old one to make room in the trunk.

I admit to a certain awe of people who can do this. When I close my eyes and peer into the ether I can see myself in some alternate reality, owning only a suitcase full of clothes and a laptop full of media and memories, living in a tiny efficiency and carrying my intangible life in a backpack. The vision is not without a certain attraction to me. All I need to do is find homes for my cats, and change my essential nature.

That isn't likely to happen, so my quest for security continues.