on being alone

Sometimes I feel better when I am alone. I don't mean not being in a relationship, I mean alone. Sometimes when I am alone and don't have to communicate with other human beings a smile will come unbidden to my face. When I am walking down a street or doing my art or reading thoughts fly in and out of my head. I observe the way the tree branches look against a cloudy sky, a bird taking wing, the different colors of fall blending in such a wonderful dance. When I am doing my art I just let happen what wants to but sometimes fret when and idea is there but won't take shape. If I just let go of the idea and let anything happen it is more relaxing. When I am reading I can immerse myself in the story or just be on the fringe of it while connecting it to my life in some way. When I am doing all of these things alone I can let go of the anxiety that has entered my brain. But yet even as I do these things alone a part of my brain insists on wanting to share these things with others. A part of my brain wants to be part of a whole. Yet when that part of my brain activates the anxiety starts to come back to plague me. I doubt if I will ever feel like what I think, feel or care about can possibly be of importance to others. This is not the fault of others, it is all me.