Most of my friends are a few years older than I am, so I’ve had the advantage of watching them move through milestone birthdays before I get there. I’ve often joked that if I don’t like what I see, I simply won’t get any older. Time does march on, however, and it’s been fascinating to me to see the subtle (and obvious) changes in my body with each passing year.

First came the strands of white hair. Yes, white, not gray. Bold white hair that stuck straight out from my head as if daring me to try and ignore it. Even though it was dead straight, unlike the rest of my curly mop, its rebellious nature made me smile because it clearly belonged to me.

Mind you, I was lucky. The rest of my hair has always been a kaleidoscope of natural colour so the white ones weren’t apparent for a few years. Eventually they began to come in even curlier than the rest of the hair, so I now have visions of growing into a delightfully funky and unconventional senior with wild white ringlets. Can you imagine??

I noticed that many of my friends began to widen a bit around the waist after they turned fifty. By fifty-three, I still had the same slim figure I’d had at seventeen. I figured I was blessed with great genes since my Mom had always been slim and statuesque.

Then it happened.

I was shopping for some new clothes for a couple of television interviews for my new book (Dream BIGGER: Reclaiming a Life of Joy and Ease). Everything I bought fit beautifully and I felt gorgeous.

Two weeks later, in Rhode Island for my first interview, I put on my new pants.

I could barely do them up around the waist. In two weeks, I had put on ten pounds! And it hasn’t left. It doesn’t matter what I do, it doesn’t budge.

I now remember my Mom moaning about her “belly”. I used to laugh and point out how tiny she was and that it was okay to have a bit of a tummy by the age of sixty. She just glared at me. I’m sure, if she were still alive, she’d find my new shape very amusing!

I’ve spent the last year fighting reality. I’ve tried walking, hiking, cycling, exercising every morning, cutting back on portions, all the things that used to help. It seems the extra weight is here to stay.

Then, last weekend, I had a revelation. I was at a retreat centre, wandering around the extensive wooded property. I stopped to admire a small pond filled with lily pads. The water sparkled in the sunlight and then I noticed … him. He was lying on his side near the pond, a big smile on his face, one hand resting on his plump belly.

A Buddha. A laughing Buddha.

Completely unselfconscious, totally at ease with his body shape. Enjoying the pleasure of life itself.

I placed my hands on my “Buddha belly”. Hmmm, maybe if I rub it (like you do with the belly of a laughing Buddha), it’ll bring me luck?