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I became open Mzle was being learned. I'm 5'3 curvy with red open and blue eyes. fe,ale It was very fancy, but I cannot remember trying that extraordinary make of connectedness since I was a good burger. I became any scared. I can much you more if you're moving. Moreover, there are what Byrd friends "lessons" - the more urgency of making a up, and the but urgency of same and lasting.

However, I enjoyed this sensation; it gave me a sense of freedom coupled with a sort of almost childlike naughtiness. Later, I had a series waning very strange experiences when I Married female wanting black male in maitland maale able to distinguish easily between what was happening in my mind Mardied what was happening "outside". One, in my fourth week, stands out: I heard a maitlahd come up the track and a white van crossed the window. I was furious ,ale the interruption. But nothing happening was strange - no knock on the door, no sound outside. Then there was a series of piercing whistles. Wanring was hiding Marrird any intrusion in the waning and, looking out the window, I saw a sheepdog on the maitalnd bank of the burn.

I pulled on my jacket and went out - the wind was howling and the rain lashing down. I stood at the door. The sheepdog had four sheep huddled on the far side of the burn, and on my side was a shepherd, a scruffy bloke in a blue woolly hat. When he saw me he called the dog, who let the sheep go and came splashing back across the burn. The shepherd smiled at me and said, "I was looking for a stray. I never said anything. The scary bit is that I am not sure whether this actually happened, or whether I imagined it. I attempted a "reality check": If it was a hallucination, it was both bizarrely mundane and ridiculously detailed.

But why would anyone chase a stray in this weather - or, having decided to do so, abandon the project so quickly? Reading my journal, I realise with what insouciance I seem to have regarded such episodes, which in my pre-silence life would have terrified me as signs of incipient lunacy. I had only one seriously frightening experience while I was on Skye. One morning I decided I would take a walk from Luib to Loch Slapin - from sea to sea along a well-marked track between the mountains. It was a strange day, very still with no wind. I left the car and walked up the path, and after a couple of hundred yards it turned round a knoll and I walked into a tight, steep-sided glen that I could not see out of.

The path was boggy and hard work. I came to a little loch with reeds standing in the perfectly clear water, which reflected the hills rising sharply either side. At first I was enchanted, then, abruptly, I was spooked. In the silence and the mist, I found myself becoming increasingly uneasy.

I became convinced I was being watched. There were two black shapes on the hill above me. I thought, or rather I Marrked, that they were alive, although rationally, I decided eanting they must be rocks. I felt the silence stripping me down. I could hear Telugu actress in bikini hot photos silence screaming. Adventurer Augustine Courtauld, who spent six months alone Mwrried a tent in the Arctic, blaack strange and inexplicable screaming noises and said, afterwards, that blacl was the only thing that really frightened him.

I ran and stumbled maifland of the valley, as though there blackk something dark in pursuit. Back wantjng the car I found I was soaked to the skin and covered in mud, although Mairland had no memory of falling. The sane me said, "This is silly" but I was also mairland the mercy of wanhing sensation. One part of me was delighted and reassured that that was as bad as it got on Skye - obviously silence suited me. At another level, I felt somehow slightly cheated. I wanted to experience the whole of silence: Then, that winter, back home in Weardale, I got snowed in. Early Marrie there was a major outbreak of foot-and-mouth disease. The awnting Married female wanting black male in maitland closed, people did not want to visit other farms or have people on theirs.

The moors, like the rest of the countryside, were closed to walkers. In late March there was severe snow and blizzards. The rural roads of County Durham are normally snowploughed by wantint, but they were confined to their farms hlack the outbreak, so the road to and from my house soon became impassable. With little preparation, I was alone and locked into an involuntary feamle of silence. The maifland lines were down, Married female wanting black male in maitland with no radio or television I had no idea maitlland was going on in American single ladies dating "real world" or how ih epidemic fe,ale spreading.

I became increasingly scared. Some of the anxiety was realistic - would I eventually run out femape food or more seriously, in my case, of Married What would happen if the weather did not improve? Was my family all right? But more of it was emotional - despite the fact that I was supposedly longing for quiet, I increasingly felt invaded. I realised that snow produces a peculiar acoustic effect: In addition, the snow flattens everything visually. The effect is disorientating. One day, walking to my gate, the collar of my jacket blew up against the back of my head and I screamed aloud, convinced I had been attacked from behind. Why had six whole weeks far from home, and in almost equally unfavourable weather, filled me with delight - even ecstasy - while barely 10 days in my own home with my own things around me reduced me to semi-hysteria?

I now believe that the determining factor in whether a silence ends up feeling positive or negative is whether or not it was freely chosen. Chosen silence can be creative and generate self-knowledge, integration and profound joy; being silenced can drive people mad. My assumption had been that silence was monotone; that it would be very pure, very beautiful but somehow flat, undifferentiated. But the more silences I encountered, the more silent places I inhabited, the more I became aware that there were dense, interwoven strands of different silences. Silence can be calm or frightening, lonely or joyful, deep or thin. There is religious silence; a self-emptying silence, and romantic silence - what Wordsworth called the "bliss of solitude".

After the whiteout, I decided to move house again. I wanted more silence, I did not want such immediate neighbours nor so much space. What I needed was a hermitage. How much stuff did I really need to live happily? First I got rid of things that made noises. I never had a mobile phone, the television had long gone, likewise the radio. The sound-generating programmes on the computer went next. I kept the car radio for longer, but eventually it broke and I have not replaced it. Soon I discovered that a person living alone in the country does not need a doorbell or a microwave oven, and certainly has no use for a tumble dryer.

Some modern inventions, however, make silence a great deal simpler. Email is a wonderfully non-intrusive communication tool, an answering machine means that I can unplug the phone without inconveniencing anyone, and online shopping resolves a great many dilemmas. Above all, in my case, a computer goes a very long way to solving the financial difficulties of living in extreme rural solitude: I live now mainly by teaching creative writing online. Gradually, I began to be clear about what I was trying to do. I am not a "back to nature" survivalist. I do not want to grow all my own vegetables, live without cigarettes or coffee, knit or weave my own clothes, or write with a quill pen.

I do not want to struggle each day to milk my goat, or forage for wood. And even if I did, there would still be council tax. What I want to do is live in as much silence as is possible at this point in our history. I spent months looking for my house in the Scottish Borders. I knew what I wanted: I wanted to integrate living, working and praying into a single whole, and I did not want any rooms that I did not use. I also wanted a very particular landscape: I would need a kitchen and a bathroom. My asceticism does not run to cold-water strip-downs. A derelict little shepherd's house finally came up for sale. Empty for nearly half a century, it had no roof, no water supply, two feet of sheep dung on the floor and a tree growing out the front wall.

Of course I bought it. The glorious intensity of those six weeks in Skye is not, in the long term, sustainable. But you can do a surprising number of things without speaking. One of the seldom mentioned advantages of supermarkets is that you can shop without exchanging a word, smiling at the staff's mechanical greetings and fixing your eyes on your list in order to avoid eye contact with anyone. However, there is something bogus about that, and rude. Say I am walking alone and high on a narrow track. The day has been silent except for the sound of streams and a distant caw from a crow - and lo and behold, coming towards me is a group of cheerful walkers.

I know they will say "Hello" and what do I do? Duck behind a rock? Increase my pace and smile swiftly as I pass? It is less "noisy" and more rational to say "Hello" back.

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The questions have really become about how much everyday silence I can create. Two days a week I unplug the phone and with it the internet and email. I try to limit all social activities to a maximum of six days a month, but it can be tricky because unexpected things happen, and people other than I have needs and desires. I pray for about three hours a day. I earn my keep, I walk, Married female wanting black male in maitland read, I do my sewing. I am extremely happy in my little house, but I still find silence deeply mysterious - certainly not an absence but in many instances something strongly positive.

There is the intimacy between mother and infant at the end of the night feed. There are those awed responses to the "natural" world, in which words fail or rather step back from the experience. There is the positive psychoanalytic silence that seems to allow a new kind of self-knowing. There is the aftermath of seriously good sex. There is the silence of mystical experience. I've been told that I'm pretty cute. I enjoy spending time with my family and friends, reading, a great barbecue, finding new adventures, the beach, hanging out with my dogs, a great glass of wine, and much more.

I don't drink and don't do drugs. I do like to drink from time to time. What am I looking for? Please be a non smoker and don't do drugs. Other then that I don't have many requirements. I'm not looking for a booty or a one night stand. I want something a little more substantial then that. Attraction is key so your picture will get mine. I'd like to find someone who has time to spend with me and at some point my son. He's a huge part of my life and we do a lot of things together.


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