catching cold
can you catch the wind?
can you hold the ocean in your hands?
can you really catch a virus?
we speak of “catching” a virus as though it’s a predator, hunting us down.
but what if this narrative isn’t quite right? the dominant model of germ theory—where microbes like viruses are the singular cause of illness—has framed how we think about disease for over a century.
yet, this narrative simplifies the complex reality of human health.
viruses are not foreign predators. they are ubiquitous, found everywhere: in the soil, in water, in the very air we breathe.
and within us—viruses are woven into the genome of our cells, a legacy of ancient exchanges between life and its environment.
the body is not a sterile fortress.
it is an interconnected ecosystem.
to focus solely on viruses as culprits misses the larger picture: why does one person fall ill while another does not, even when exposed to the same virus?
the terrain within our health is determined less by the presence of microbes and more by the state of our internal environment. nutrition, stress, sleep, and the balance of our microbiome all shape how our body responds.
a resilient terrain prevents illness; a depleted terrain invites imbalance.
like the soil in a garden, the richness of our inner ecosystem determines what can grow.
when we speak of “catching” a virus, we frame disease as an attack.
but what if disease is better understood as a collaboration? a dialogue between the body and its environment, an attempt to restore balance when that harmony has been disrupted.
illness as wisdom consider this: symptoms like fever, fatigue, and congestion are not random.
they are the body’s processes of repair, recalibration, and renewal.
the fever burns what no longer serves.
the fatigue forces stillness, a space to heal.
the cough clears pathways for fresh breath. illness, rather than being an enemy, may be a signal—a call for attention, for rest, for alignment.
the body is a mirror of nature.
it cycles, it restores, it communicates in whispers and waves.
to fear it is to misunderstand its intelligence.
to see the body not as a machine needing fixes, but as an intelligent system, always striving for equilibrium.
can you catch a virus?
perhaps the better question is: how can you cultivate the kind of terrain where illness becomes unnecessary?
