Contemplation of one's navel as an aid to meditation; also : navel-gazing
The sound of heels on tile drew her from her omphaloskepsis. A woman walked into the living room, letting her blond hair down with a sigh.
"Mommy, watch." Mary poked her belly button. "It always pops out. Why?"
Mary's mother picked her child up. She kissed Mary’s cheek. Mary squealed as the lips tickled her skin. "Because there's so much goodness inside you it's barely contained."
(Yes, I know, if you've read my A to Z posts, you were were probably waiting for Mary's mom to become a zombie and eat the little girl. Surprise, the twist is there is none. =P)