Meditation, Wind-Cold, and Susceptibility

A friend of mine sent me a link recently to an interesting article. In it, the author states that people who meditate (henceforth, "practice") are more susceptible to colds and flu then people who don't.
I have two issues with this article. Firstly, it presents the argument that people who practice get sick more frequently as a truism, but provides no evidence for it. Is this an anecdotal observation, or have there been studies showing that meditators get sick more frequently? Are the meditators in question in a sick building, or are they sitting in tight quarters, breathing in each other's germs?
Second, although it states what a cold is accurately in terms of Chinese medicine (TCM), the stated reason as to why this increase in frequency occurs doesn't really seem to fit very well with TCM as I know it.
"Wind-Cold" in TCM is exactly that: environmental coldness being blown along on the wind. In a person who may be debilitated, or who ventures out with scant protection from winter, the wind and cold admixture strike against the unprotected channels of the body. According to Six-Stage Theory, as spelled out in Zhang Zhong-Jing's classic "On Cold Damage" (Shang Han Lun), this wind-cold will strike against the most exterior of all channels, the Taiyang channels, which are the Urinary Bladder and Small Intestine channels. It's when the pathogenic cold penetrates into these channels, which run over the head, down the neck and back, and down to the feet, and lodges there that you feel the characteristics of a cold: stiff neck, constrained breathing, headache, stuffed nose, etc.
It's important to remember also, that the wind-cold strikes the skin, and it's within the skin that the body's defensive qi resides (not, as one might expect, the channels). This is the "Qi shield" that is active in the interstices between the skin and fascia, and as it resides in the skin this qi is ruled by the Lungs. Once the wei (or defensive) qi is constrained by the wind-cold, the Lung qi mechanism is obstructed and wheezing is the result. It naturally follows that if there is a weakness in the wei qi or in the Taiyang channels, the cold, being borne along by the wind, will penetrate the body, muck up the body's normal qi mechanisms, and cause a cold.
What the author of the article is proposing is that because a meditator is "cleaning out" his channels via the practice of meditation, he or she is more susceptible to a wind-cold invasion because the channels are now more "empty." Since they are in a more "empty" state, pathogenic influences have more of a chance of entering the body.
This is the assertion that I take issue with. Although he talks about wind-cold and wind conditions vis-a-vis one's qi, he seems to be conflating the process of cleaning one's channels with the mechanisms of a wind invasion. In my view, having cleaned the channels doesn't necessarily make them, as the author states, "little empty tubes." They may become more empty of gunk, but unless the person follows an unhealthy lifestyle, or is already unhealthy to begin with, the channels become full of healthy qi. For instance, the author states that as people advance in meditation, that they wear more layers and report that they "feel cold." However, I've known people for whom the opposite is true, and that as they meditate they "feel warmer." I'm sure that people have seen footage of monks drying cold, wet sheets as they sit in meditation. This is the power of unfettered qi flowing strongly through the channels. I somehow doubt that the monks get cold frequently.
That people get more sensitive with their qi as they advance in practice I don't doubt, but I don't think we can equate this with deficient conditions such as emptiness of the channels (severe emptiness of the channels can result in conditions like stroke, a type of "internal wind"). The author's advice to dress warmly during meditation if the room is cold is advice well taken, but a person who has wei qi deficiency is likely to get sick regardless of whether they meditate or not, and should wear extra clothing anyway. Now, someone who is deficient and sickly who then takes to meditation, and who then mistakenly feels that this will confer some magic protection, and who then proceeds to meditate in a cold environ without adequate protection probably will, I'm sure, catch wind-cold. This isn't necessarily meditation's fault, nor has it to do with making the practitioner more sensitive, but has to do with the constitution of the practitioner.
There is an odd assertion also that, "...people with light bones get more readily get sick than others...," and that, "...these are the individuals that you should actively encourage to cultivate (i.e. practice meditation)." This is excellent advice, but I think I would also encourage them to exercise and take better physical care of themselves, the lightness of bone pointing to the fact that they don't move nearly enough, and need exercise. Moderate exercise would boost their bodies and help ward off disease.
As an aside of my own, it has been shown that high-performance endurance athletes, such as marathoners and triathletes, do get colds more frequently and are more susceptible. Why? After strenuous training, killer cells and IgA and other defensive cells are reduced in the body, leaving an open window of from three to 72 hours of weakened immunity. So yes, there are seemingly paradoxical situations wherein someone who is performing activities to increase their health may find instead that they are more frequently sick. But again, proper nutrition and rest, and proper clothing, can easily compensate.
One member of my sangha, in responding to my general query, noted that she hasn't noticed being sick more frequently since taking up practice. If anything, she says, she's been sick less frequently, since starting meditation, and this has to do with other changes that come along with starting the "contemplative life." These are dietary changes, less stress, more mindfulness about environment, food, conditions, etc. As she says (and I think this sums it all up), "It seems to be a package deal."

Winter Would Like to Hear You Cry Uncle Now

As everyone out here in Gotham knows, we've been pummeled mercilessly by winter this January. Just last night, we got 15 inches (19 I hear in some areas), and the MTA suspended bus service at around midnight, presumably so they don't get stuck in the streets thereby making it impossible to plow.
The snow was so bad that I had to postpone my presentation to the Wellness Center of Port Morris of Xing Yi Nei Gong (see last post). The Wellness Center is much like St. Ann's, in that it caters (if "cater" is the right word) to a disadvantaged population. It's different from St. Ann's in that it focuses a lot on Liver health, and many there are infected with hepatitis.
What's worrisome is that if it's difficult for someone as able-bodied as I am to move around the city, it must be very hard for some of the clients of places like St. Ann's and the Wellness Center. Moreover, many of them have inadequate coats, or no coats at all.
Seeing as how we've entered the Snowpocalypse, this is a Very Bad Thing. So, I urge people out there, if they have any coats that they're no longer using, please donate them. You and I may cry uncle, and silently curse under our breaths about the umpteenth time we have to dig our car out, but for others, it's literally life and death.

Xing Yi Nei Gong

It's been my good fortune recently to be given the opportunity to teach qigong at Pacific College of Oriental Medicine. The form I've chosen to teach the students is Xing Yi Nei Gong, sometimes also called the Sixteen Exercises.
My good friend Don Arrup calls these exercises, "Thorough, balancing, and complete." He's right; for an extremely simple set of exercises, Xing Yi Nei Gong is incredibly rejuvenating. A quote from the book, also called Xing Yi Nei Gong, by Wang Ji Wu and translated by Cartmell and Miller perfectly captures the feeling, "One feels as refreshed as if one has taken a bath."
Of course, America is a culture wherein if it's worth doing, it's worth overdoing. Xing Yi Nei Gong takes the complete opposite track from that, advising not to force anything, not to push anything, but simply to accord oneself with what is natural to begin with. One isn't trying to push the qi through the channels by force, or straining overly much, yet the qi flows strongly and naturally. The reason is simple; exercises where you push hard, go into oxygen debt, build lactic acid, etc. all create their own types of stagnation and can deplete qi. Xing Yi Nei Gong seeks only to gently open the meridians and channels, thus allowing the energy to move naturally. Now, as an avid cyclist, I'm not advocating abandoning your cardio training or stopping spinning classes. A certain amount of fitness is important. However, training in a qigong form like Xing Yi Nei Gong can serve as a perfect complement to the hard training, enabling the body to heal and recover faster than simply lying back.
The benefits of qigong may also extend to treatment of chronic diseases. One example: in one 30-year follow-up study, hypertensive patients were divided into two groups: a control group that didn't practice qigong, and one that did. Both groups took medication for treatment of hypertension. However, the rate of mortality in the qigong group due to stroke or complications of stroke were half that of the control group. Moreover, participants in the qigong group were able to either reduce the medications they needed, or eliminate them. The control group needed more medication as time went on (Sancier, Kenneth M. "Medical Applications of Qigong," 1996).
This winter, when training outdoors is more difficult if not unfeasible, why not try some simple, gentle qigong forms? There are no downsides, plenty of upsides, and hey, who doesn't want to feel as refreshed as if having taken a bath?

Snow Day in the Bronx

In a totally unmedical post, I have to say that this month's snowstorm wasn't anything all that bad. Okay, it wasn't anywhere near the snowpocalypse we had back in December, but still, nine inches isn't anything to sneeze at. St. Ann's still had a full complement of patients today. In fact, I was pretty darn busy. Partly because the other person who works the Sanctuary with me wasn't there. Still, I was surprised by how many people did show up. I think perhaps the city learned from the December debacle.