GrandRising | The Interior & Architecture of Distance

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Question.

How many people...

Do you know...

Who aren't alone...

But are entirely...

Unaccompanied?

Strange isn't it?

Intriguing.

Those...

Do not equate.

There are human beings...

Who speak...

Every day.

Who laugh.

Who work.

Who create.

Who lead.

Who teach.

Who build.

Who answer messages.

Who walk into rooms...

Filled with people...

Who know their name.

And yet...

There are entire...

Interior territories...

Within them...

Where no one...

Lives beside them.

Not because...

They are incapable...

Of connection.

Not necessarily...

Because they are lonely.

Sometimes...

Because somewhere...

Along the way...

They learned...

That proximity...

And safety...

Do not always...

Arrive together.

And so they make room..

For solitude.

Within the architecture..

Of isolation.

Interesting.

We speak often...

About isolation...

As though...

It simply means...

Being alone.

It doesn't.

A person...

Can be alone...

Without being isolated.

A person...

Can be surrounded...

And profoundly isolated.

A person...

Can love others...

And remain...

Emotionally inaccessible.

A person...

Can participate...

Socially...

While preserving...

An enormous...

Private interior.

Those...

Do not equate.

There is...

A phenomenon...

Within this.

Emotional & Social Isolationism.

Not merely...

Isolation.

Isolationism.

There is a distinction.

Isolation...

Can describe...

A condition.

Isolationism...

Can become...

An orientation.

Not necessarily...

An absence...

Of relationship.

But an architecture...

Governing...

How deeply...

Relationship...

Is permitted...

To enter.

A way...

Of organizing...

Proximity.

Access.

Disclosure.

Dependency.

Attachment.

Trust.

And eventually...

The architecture...

Of relationship itself.

Question.

How does...

That architecture...

Begin?

Perhaps...

With one door.

One experience...

That teaches...

A person...

To close it.

Then another.

And another.

Not necessarily...

From fear.

Sometimes...

From recognition.

Sometimes...

From exhaustion.

Sometimes...

From betrayal.

Sometimes...

From discovering...

That what was shared...

In intimacy...

Could later...

Be used...

As ammunition.

Interesting...

What humans can build...

From what others...

Once trusted them...

To hold.

So...

Distance...

Becomes necessary.

Distance...

Becomes protective.

Protection...

Becomes habitual.

Habit...

Becomes preference.

Preference...

Becomes architecture.

And eventually...

You aren't...

Hiding...

Inside the structure.

You live there.

Bruh.

That distinction...

Matters.

Because humans...

Have an unfortunate habit...

Of looking...

At someone's walls...

And immediately asking...

Why they won't...

Take them down.

Question.

Why is the wall...

Always...

The first thing...

Being interrogated?

Why not...

The environment...

That made...

Architecture...

Necessary?

Interesting.

Perhaps...

Not every wall...

Is asking...

To be demolished.

Some...

Carry weight.

Some...

Establish boundaries.

Some...

Separate...

Public...

From private.

Some...

Protect...

The structural integrity...

Of everything...

Behind them.

That doesn't mean...

Every wall...

Is useful.

Some structures...

Outlive...

The conditions...

That created them.

Some protection...

Can become...

Confinement.

Some distance...

Can become...

So familiar...

That closeness itself...

Begins to feel...

Foreign.

And that...

Deserves...

Recognition too.

Because...

I have no interest...

In romanticizing...

Isolation.

Nor...

Pathologizing...

Every instance...

Of it.

I am interested...

In understanding...

Its architecture.

Question.

What happens...

When someone...

Stops reaching...

For another person...

When they hurt?

What happens...

When celebration...

Becomes private?

When grief...

Becomes private?

When fear...

Becomes private?

When tenderness...

Becomes private?

When accomplishment...

Becomes private?

When the first instinct...

Is no longer...

"Who can I tell?"

But...

"I'll carry it."

Interesting.

Eventually...

A person...

Can become...

Exceptionally skilled...

At carrying themselves.

So skilled...

That others...

May never notice...

They are carrying...

Everything...

Alone.

And perhaps...

That is where...

Emotional isolation...

Becomes difficult...

To recognize.

Because...

It doesn't always...

Look like suffering.

Sometimes...

It looks...

Like competence.

Independence.

Productivity.

Leadership.

Composure.

Privacy.

Self-sufficiency.

Perhaps even...

Peace.

And some of it...

May genuinely...

Be those things.

Those...

Do not equate either.

Question.

How do you know...

When solitude...

Has become...

Isolation?

How do you know...

When privacy...

Has become...

Fortification?

How do you know...

When independence...

Has quietly become...

The inability...

To imagine...

Being safely dependent...

Upon anyone?

Hmm.

Perhaps...

There isn't...

One answer.

Because...

Human interiors...

Are not...

Public property.

Not every private room...

Requires...

An occupant.

Not every silence...

Requires...

A witness.

Not every experience...

Requires...

An audience.

And certainly...

Not every human being...

Requires...

Access.

But there is...

Something fascinating...

About becoming...

Your own...

Permanent witness.

The first...

To hear yourself.

The first...

To comfort yourself.

The first...

To celebrate yourself.

The one...

Who remains...

When everyone else...

Has returned...

To their own interior.

Perhaps...

That is both...

The beauty...

And the danger...

Of the architecture.

It can teach you...

That you can...

Survive alone.

While quietly...

Making you forget...

That survival...

Was never...

The only possibility.

I don't believe...

Every architecture...

Of distance...

Needs demolition.

Sometimes...

It needs...

Understanding.

Inspection.

Stewardship.

Choice.

Because...

There is a difference...

Between a door...

That cannot...

Be opened...

And one...

Whose owner...

Simply chooses...

Not to open it.

Those...

Do not equate.

Perhaps...

Autonomy...

Is not...

Living...

Without doors.

Perhaps...

It is knowing...

They belong...

To you.

Knowing...

What exists...

Behind them.

Knowing...

Why they were built.

And knowing...

That no one's desire...

To enter...

Creates...

An obligation...

To let them in.

The interior...

Remains...

Yours.

The architecture...

Remains...

Yours.

And perhaps...

The deepest question...

Isn't...

Whether...

You live...

At a distance.

Perhaps...

It is whether...

That distance...

Still belongs...

To your choice.

GrandRising. 🍵