It is a beautiful thing that Miriam-Webster dictionary defines safety not only as being free from harm, injury, or loss but also a state in which one is free from causing such things. This description may still be insufficient, but at least it is a nice one. After all, safety is a complex construct, and, to be frank, it can be quite a messy business.

Even though it seems to be one of the most important needs of man, it is not an obvious thing. It depends on personal experience and held beliefs. It does not fit squarely into established definitions. It is entangled in all kinds of paradoxes and contradictions. People can adapt to their circumstances even if their situation is far from perfect and can see a danger in seemingly peaceful conditions. Places that should be safe havens can become little private hells, while the constant probability of a disaster can grow to be, if not a friend, then at least a good acquaintance.

This project began with being afraid. It began with the yearning for the time when I felt truly safe.

There may not be an immediate danger here, but the fear is constant.

Intuitively, I turn to people every time.

Community connectedness seems to be the key.

It is not only my belief but, as it turns out, the subject of many studies. Social capital may act as a buffer and compensate a lack of control over the environment. Voluntary associations can mediate the relationship between perceived danger and subjective well-being.

It is a theory.
It can be a story.