Zen Belly

So on my morning walk today I decided to try a new technique I read about last night. It's pretty simple, really. You are supposed to focus on your breathing and your belly. I'm guessing they didn't mean focus as in "god, what a fat belly I have", but more in the Buddhist model that holds that your belly is the site of your soul, your center, the part of you that keeps you grounded. (If that's true, I should be REALLY grounded since I gained this weight).

Anyway, I'm walking along noticing every breath (I call it 'looky breathing'), and trying to get a handle on what's up with my belly. I can't get get a fix. Nothing. Nada. I'm a whiz at this exercise when I have to think about my chest. That's where it's happening for me. Angry little beings run around in there with fire hoses, sad girls sit in dark corners with blankets over their heads, dark emptiness paralyzes me. But my belly? Nothing.

Obedient student that I am, I ask my belly "what are you trying to tell me?"

"Go home and eat breakfast" it instantly replies, without a hint of sarcasm or irony, I should note.

That totally cracks me up but I listen, and go home and eat.

Next time I do this meditation I'm hoping it wants me to eat a hot brownie with ice cream for lunch. Then I'd know for sure my belly is where my soul hangs out.