When was the last time I just sat there and did absolutely nothing for long-ish phases of time? When did I, with hands on knees, just sit and watch the birds out of the window and let my mind become blank for more than just five minutes at a time? In fact, when do I ever allow myself to be still, without my mind flooding with a dozen new and ever-more more jet propelled urges to do half a dozen other things the moment I allow myself to get going again…and then, once I get going, becoming so hyperfocused I forget to get back to my pacing? Every time I allow myself a short period of activity, I risk becoming embroiled again. It’s hard…probably one of the hardest things (if not the hardest) I’ve ever attempted but the few times I managed to really master pacing, last week I began to feel noticeable benefits that I find hard to explain in words but I felt them clearly enough. There were distinct shifts in me that I hadn’t experienced for a long time, some of them for years, which manifested slowly and subtly like ghosts of a new experience stood on the periphery, contrasting starkly with all the stuck-feelings of chronicness. The best I can explain is that my nervous system felt less compressed or jangly, my body felt less hypertonic and my endorphins felt increased, in short bursts, that almost felt like excitement or waves of appreciation and something bordering on joyfulness. I can vaguely recall feeling like that much more often, even perhaps frequently, back in the good old days, back before ME/CFS took hold in such a way that it has become a whole other way of life but I think it had been a very long time since I had been there, even for a moment, until I started properly pacing last week and now I hold out for experiencing even more of this. It turns out pacing is not this passive thing, the "absence of activity" that I feared so much but this incredibly proactive thing that lets other good things happen.