I'd first say that there is a variety of "silence" that I may experience, but I'd say that I do experience most different types very often. The first is verbal silence. While there may be sound around me, verbal silence is a lack of speech. This is the one that I experience with the most frequency, as I have gone days without saying a single word. Often times, I just don't think about it, since I am primarily caught up in my own thoughts. It doesn't bother me to not speak, since that is only one form of communication. The second is auditory silence, where you do not hear anything. In the strictest sense it is incredibly rare, since that requires tremendous amounts of stillness, down to the air around you. This is something that I've only experienced a few times in my life in particular circumstances. However, if auditory silence is taken with a less strict definition, then it pervades my life. I spend the majority of my day in just a few places: out doors, in the library, or in my living space. Each of those places is quieter than the last, with my apartment being extremely quiet, save for the very gentle hum of the fan in my computer and the fan in my bathroom. Now, how does silence play a part in my life? Well, till recently I had largely been a very big loner, and I am very accepting of my own company. I find being "in my own head" a very comfortable place. I think about my life, what I've done, what I'm doing, where I'm going, why I'm going there, etc. I enjoy recording my thoughts and trying to understand my own mind. I enjoy a lot of silence, in both quantity and duration that I believe many people cannot bear. Silence is beautiful to me. I enjoy communication that is more than just idle chatter, and strangely that level of communication involves a lot of silence. I've found that the closer and more intimate the conversation, the more quiet and slow it becomes. The closest communication I've ever had was an expression of feelings almost entirely devoid of any speech at all. We come from silence, and we return to silence. I think this frightens some, but it comforts me.