Picture isolation as the Grand Canyon. It’s vast. It’s deep. It yawns before you, a chasm of emptiness. Its walls are solitude, its bottom, desolation. It’s you against a world of silence, a solo dance on the edge of despair. It’s a wordless song, a blank page, an unfinished puzzle. Isolation is a one-man show in an empty theater.
Now, envision an ally as a bridge across that canyon. It’s not a sprawling bridge, but a single, sturdy plank. Simple. Unadorned. But it spans the abyss. It turns the uncrossable into a walk in the park. It defies the depths and laughs in the face of the chasm. An ally is a whisper in the silence, a splash of color on the blank canvas, the missing puzzle piece. It’s the second act in your one-man show.
The power of one ally in the theater of isolation is profound. It changes the entire plot. The isolation feels less absolute, the silence less deafening, the abyss less infinite.
Be that bridge. Span someone’s chasm. Turn their solo dance into a duet. Paint their blank page with shared experiences. Fill their silence with shared laughter. Change the plot. Make their abyss bearable. Be the ally.