Lessons from a Fat, Happy Buddha
“Smiling from the inside out — what a fat, happy Buddha taught me about joy.”
You know the fat, happy Buddha you see in every Asian restaurant? He always makes me smile because he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered that he’s…well, plump. I like to imagine he’s secretly laughing at the folks judging his physique, because he knows something we don’t.
He looks blissful no matter where he’s perched — in the middle of a chaotic kitchen or on a perfectly curated shelf. The point is: he is happy. Always smiling. He’s found a pocket of peace, a stillness you might even call the eye of a tornado — watching the mess swirl around, relaxed and amused.
I try to be that Buddha. The more I meditate and turn inward, the closer I get. Lately I catch myself smiling for no reason. I’ll wake up at 2 a.m., realize I’m smiling, and think, “this is nice.” That smile isn’t for a thing, a plan, or even a person. It comes from inside.
I’m finally shining my light. I’m radiating from the inside out, and it feels fabulous. Some people might look at me and think I must have it all together. Honestly? I do — in a way that surprised me. I’ve created a daily practice that fills me with energy and light, and somehow that light multiplies. By the end of the day, it feels like it’s everywhere.
Don’t get me wrong — I’ve had hard things. Loss. Illness. Depression. Real stuff. But I choose the fun. I choose the light and the calm. This didn’t happen overnight. It took 57 years, life lessons, and a few embarrassing moments I’d rather forget. If you read my whole life story, you’d probably see a lot of heartache. But still — I choose to be like that fat, happy Buddha: smiling, loving, and sharing every single day.
When I was diagnosed with MS, I wanted to hide it. We moved after 17 years — partly because no one in the new town would know my history. That anonymity felt like freedom. No one had seen me fall down or lose control of my bladder in public. I’d already done a lot of healing, so I went with, “I am strong — no maladies here,” and people bought it. That was fine...but I wasn’t really smiling. There was a quiet, constant grey that followed me around. I wasn’t clinically depressed maybe, but I was trudging through life in a fog.
Then I ramped up my personal yoga practice. Something shifted. Balance returned. I woke up ready to meet the day. I had energy. I smiled — a lot. I became that happy Buddha, sitting in the eye of life’s tornado, not because the storm stopped, but because I learned to sit differently inside it.
And it wasn’t just calmness. It was a felt presence — my Holy Spirit walking with me, side by side. When you change from the inside out, it hits differently. It affects everything: personality, outlook, the tone of your voice, the shape of your thoughts. It’s profound. And truthfully, it’s contagious. I don’t want to pretend I’m fine anymore — because I’m more than fine. I’m great. I’m glowing. I want to share this feeling because it’s bright and fun and, yes, kind of irresistible.
So here I am, smiling for no reason, sharing my light with everyone. If you ever see me and think I must have it all — maybe I do. Or maybe I’ve just learned how to sit in my own eye of the tornado and laugh along with the rest of it.
Want to try it with me? Start small: five minutes of quiet, one simple breath practice, a little yoga stretch. See what shows up. If you find yourself smiling at 2 a.m., come tell me about it. I’ll smile back.
Share the Light.
Christi
PS.
Below is a diagram of a simple box breathing technique. Breath in for 2 counts. Hold for 2 counts. Exhale for 4 counts. the most important part is to focus on your breath. When your mind starts to wonder, bring your attention back to your breath.
