Chi Belly: Zhan Zhuang Reflections

After a full year of daily zhan zhuang practice, I noticed something strange. My belly started to grow. I wondered what I had been eating or if I had overindulged in desserts lately since I love sweets, but my diet hadn’t changed much.

Then it hit me. I have chi belly. It’s not fat or muscle in the usual sense. It happened because I’ve been training to relax my abdominal muscles every day. I’m breathing from my diaphragm to expand this area. Our dan tian, the center of our qi source, is right here. Coincidence? I think not.

I’m like a little Buddha. That’s why Buddha statues usually have big bellies, a sign of deep internal cultivation. I’m not there yet, but maybe one day.

Good, I thought as I stood in zhan zhuang. I’m not getting fat or bloated. This is a good sign. It means I have less tension. It means I have more space in my belly. My qi circulation is improving around my dan tian. I’m not doing it wrong, and it feels so right. My belly feels rounder, fuller, alive. I’m breathing into it. My center feels solid.

This is ez mode zhan zhuang. I’m sunk at a comfortable level. To build real internal strength, I have to sink deeper. That’s where it gets uncomfortable. I’m gonna edge myself between tolerable and intolerable today.

There’s a timer. Three minutes a posture. I do eight postures. The depth stays the same, only my hand position changes.

Time moves so slowly. I’m starting to sweat and it’s only the second posture. It’s the infamous “hugging the tree” posture. What I wouldn’t give to receive the cold embrace of a tree right now. I try to relax more. I imagine my centre sinking into a black hole.

I’m thinking about all the tai chi ads I’ve been seeing lately. They show old Chinese guys with six packs that are obviously AI-generated. I’m not getting a six pack doing this. I’m getting a one pack. I’m getting a barrel.

Halfway through, I’m sweating a lot more now. It’s like a slow boil. I’m shaking. I don’t know if I can take it anymore. The timer beeps. I change my hands and momentarily forget the burning. I don’t go this low every day. That’s a recipe for injury. But when I want to push myself, this is what I do. It’s like going for a gym PR. This is the tai chi equivalent.

People think zhan zhuang is standing still. On the outside sure, but on the inside everything is moving. I’m imagining a washing machine cycle going round and round in my centre. Clockwise, then counterclockwise.

I think about the time I asked my first teacher if this gets any easier, and he immediately answered no and started chuckling to himself. I half close my eyes. I lock in.

Don’t think about the time. Don’t think about the time. Sweat rolls down my palms. Sweat rolls into my eyes. It looks like someone poured a bucket of water on me. This is the last posture. I can go lower, which means I must go lower. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy, and here I am doing it voluntarily. I know I’m not ready for this depth since I’m thinking too much and narrating this to you. But once in a while I test the waters. Tomorrow it will be easier. Tomorrow it will be fine.

When I finish, I collapse on the floor and thank my knees for holding up. I wash my face with cold water and pat my belly. That’s chi belly, I think. May it grow larger with each passing year.

Written 15th October 2025