You Don't Mean That

Quite often I hear people with junk-filled houses make navel-gazing comments about how they'd be better off if all of their stuff "just went away" or that a fire would be a blessing. I must admit that, sometimes when I look at the my apartment full of (husband's) junk and remember how free I was before I settled in and got married, I become wistful and start to have the same thoughts. Then one day last week, I came home to this:

That's not my apartment, although it very nearly was. That's the building adjacent to mine, and the fire was ignited by lightning. Sixteen apartments were destroyed, and sixteen families are now homeless. Renter's insurance here in the sunshine state has been hard to find since the catastrophic losses of the 2004 and 2005 hurricane seasons, and few if any of those affected here were covered. When I moved back here last summer, my insurer said they weren't writing any new policies and referred me to Citizens Property Insurance, the state-run insurer of last resort often associated with those million-dollar mansions on the beach. After taking a look at all of the paperwork involved in their application I put it on the back burner and forgot about it, but of course I'm working on it now (even though they say lightning doesn't strike twice).

 I don't want to say that I'm "counting my blessings" because to me that seems to imply that I'm more deserving of a home than others, as if some magical force is protecting me. Random, horrible things happen, and virtue is no protection. Maybe this is one of those lessons about detachment and impermanence, I don't know. But right now, some quote from Tyler Durden is likely of little comfort to those people.

The apartment complex has started taking donations for our displaced neighbors, and I've been gathering all of our extra clothes and linens. They're in the slow process of tearing the building down, but for now it's just an eerie, burnt-out shell haunting me every time I step out the front door. I think I still need some time to process my emotions about how this relates to my philosophies on life and the things I own. But seriously, you don't want your house to burn down, even if it is full of junk.