In the early fall of 2010 I sat cross legged on the floor of my apartment, as I had every morning for a year. It was around 10:00am and I was following a routine I stuck to as if my life depended upon it (because I had become convinced it did). Every morning and evening, I meditated as part of my process of recovery from drug addiction. And every time I engaged in this practice I was awash with peace. This morning was different from those which had preceded it for the previous year. I was adhering to a practice which had brought me serenity with one minor, yet profound, alteration.