The Hidden Benefits of Having a Cold
This week, I found myself battling a terrible cold. Sleepless nights, a stuffy nose, brain fog making it difficult to think clearly, and a short temper with my son while helping him with his homework—all seemed to pile on at once. Yet, amidst the discomfort, there was an unexpected upside. Stripped down to only the most essential tasks—work, cooking, homework, and maintaining a basic level of orderliness around the house—I found myself sinking into each task with a newfound presence and awareness.
One of the biggest shifts came when I substituted my usual intense workouts with simple walks on the beach. I knew I needed to move, but I wanted something low-impact, something that wouldn’t drain my already depleted energy. The idea of fresh air and some natural vitamin D from the sun seemed appealing, so I laced up my sneakers and headed to the beach near my home each morning. What I discovered during those walks was nothing short of amazing.
On the first day, I tuned into the sounds around me—something I rarely do when I'm feeling well and rushing through life. The bark of the seals and the distant hum of the foghorn seemed to sync in a rhythmic jazz-like pattern, slightly out of sync with one another in a beautifully unexpected way. I marveled at the way the waves crashed in under the Golden Gate Bridge, noticing them from a side angle—a perspective I don’t often get to see. Watching them from this new viewpoint gave me a renewed appreciation for the power and beauty of the ocean.
Another morning, I spotted a majestic crane standing by the shore. This crane is rumored to have built an enormous nest in the eucalyptus trees nearby and seeing it up close was magical. It stood still, barely moving for several minutes, with only its eyes darting from place to place. I realized how much we can learn from nature’s stillness—how stillness can be an active part of survival.
Beyond these natural observations, I noticed a shift in my mood as well. Despite feeling physically under the weather, there was a mental clarity that emerged from slowing down and paying attention to my surroundings. The enforced simplicity of life—brought on by being sick—gave me space to experience life in a more mindful, grounded way. Each walk became a mini-meditation, a chance to reset both body and mind.
In the past, I might have seen a cold as a frustrating obstacle to overcome, but this time, I found an unexpected gift in it. The slower pace allowed me to connect more deeply with my environment, my body, and my emotions. Even the inconvenience of a cold can open up new ways to appreciate the world around us if we allow ourselves to be present and fully experience it.
Next time you're feeling under the weather, consider how it might serve as an opportunity—a chance to slow down, reflect and notice the subtleties of life that often pass us by. You might just find yourself grateful for the break it provides.
