I remember that time in my life where meditation seemed like a chore.
A 'habit' that I 'tried' to form.
Constrained to a 15 min. time window every day.

Then I did Vipassana.

Now I 'tried' to be with my breath 2h every day.
What a chore!

Then I discovered the simple delight of taking a sip of air through my nostrils. Feeling it all the way down into my lower belly.

Oh, the ease!

I could do it anywhere.

At the edge of the footpath facing the Cairo train station.
At my couch.

Allowing big ugly yawns to release what did not belong inside me.

All that gunk in my lower belly that I'd try, in vain, to silence with a large pizza washed down with a large Coke.
And then I'd try, in vain, to yank it out of the tip out of my spine. Shuddering in ephemeral delight.

It satiated the demons momentarily, but they came back.

I was stuck in a pattern.

Till I learnt how to be brave enough to acknowledge the ways in which my child heart's innocent desire to show love was met with corruption. And acknowledge how painful it truly was to experience the corruption of innocence.

That it made me see very clearly patterns, I was stuck in, that corrupted the innocence around me.

I resolved to let go of such patterns of behavior. Ways in which I tended to mistreat the holiness of my body &, in extension, mistreat the holy innocence and tenderness of the bodies around me.

Now, I see it. I can't not see it.

Now, trying to meditate isn't a chore.

Now, there is great delight in observing breath flow down to the varied parts of me.

What a delight. Such a subtle delight.

As there is no resistance to breath, so there is no resistance in allowing the exhalation of what doesn't belong.

No resistance in loving.
No resistance in letting go. And letting be.

No fear of seeing what lies in the shadows. All the horrors have been seen.

Now meditation doesn't need a timer. A perfect cushion. A perfect setting.

Now meditation is just the utterly simple delight of noticing breath bring life to my tender body.