Sunday night. 9:30pm. One week in. I slept five and a half hours last night which, in the context of this retreat, feels like a triumph. It is not a triumph. But relative to the previous nights, I will take it. I may have taken some melatonin that I was probably not supposed to take. The practitioners did not ask. I did not volunteer the information. I woke up at 6am and watched the Spurs beat Oklahoma City. They are going to the Finals. This is genuinely the best thing that has happened to me in a week, which tells you something about the state of my entertainment options at an Ayurvedic retreat in Kerala.
On the food situation, which continues to astound me.
Breakfast: steamed vegetables and porridge. Lunch: steamed vegetables. Dinner: steamed vegetables with minor variation. I am still bloated. I do not fully understand this. I am eating the least amount of food I have eaten since approximately 2012, and my digestive system is apparently still processing the backlog of decisions I made in 2023. The practitioners are not concerned. They tell me this is normal. I am choosing to believe them. What I cannot argue with: I feel better. Not fixed. Not transformed. But better in a consistent, structural way that is different from the temporary better of a good night's sleep or a good workout. The old cliche is true. You are what you eat. Not in the vague wellness-influencer sense, but in the literal, physiological sense that I now understand in a way I did not before. I have been eating well for a week. I feel well.
Today's treatments.
The 11am treatment was one I have not had before. The practitioners took dried herbs, wrapped them in a cloth strainer the size of a small fist, heated the pouch on a stove until it was quite hot, and proceeded to pound it rhythmically against various parts of my body. The proper name for this is Kizhi, or Pindasweda — a bolus herbal treatment where medicinal herbs are compressed into a ball and applied with heat and pressure to stimulate circulation, reduce inflammation, and activate the deeper channels. It is less alarming than it sounds. It is warm and oddly satisfying in the way that deep tissue work is satisfying — uncomfortable in a way that feels productive. At 2:15 I had a hair treatment. A thick paste of herbs was applied to my scalp and left for an hour. I do not know which herbs specifically. I am beginning to accept that not everything here requires a full understanding before it can work.
What is coming in the next three days.
Tomorrow starts what the practitioners are calling the Virechana protocol — 300ml of honey mixed with herbs, taken on an essentially empty stomach. I am not allowed to do yoga. I am not allowed to have other treatments. The purpose is a purging of Pitta — a clearing of the gut and the liver in a way that the daily Triphala and dietary changes cannot fully accomplish. I was told this may be unpleasant. The practitioners used words like productive and thorough. I have learned to be appropriately concerned when Ayurvedic practitioners use the word thorough. The theoretical upside: after three days of this, the water retention, the bloating, and the accumulated residue that has been sitting in my system despite a week of careful eating should be substantially cleared.
One honest observation.
There is something I want to note that does not get discussed much in the marketing materials for Ayurvedic retreats: this is not a fully customised experience. The practitioners are excellent. The formulas they make are specific to your dosha and your current state. But the treatments themselves are, broadly speaking, a menu of things they do for everyone who comes through. I say this not as a criticism but as an honest calibration. What I am experiencing here is genuinely powerful. But this is not precision medicine. It is a very wise system applied with care and experience, and there is a meaningful difference between those two things. I mention this because I think it matters for how to take this home. Not as a complete replacement for how I was living, but as a corrective — a recalibration of the inputs that had gotten too far in one direction.
One week from now I will be at the airport.
That thought hit differently tonight. Not because I want to stay. I want my bed, my coffee (after food, with cardamom), my life. But because I have one week left to absorb something I do not yet fully understand, and the clock is running. Sleep: 5.5 hours. Treatments: two (Kizhi at 11, herbal hair at 2:15). Spurs to the Finals: confirmed. Virechana: imminent. Water retention: still present and unrepentant. Days remaining: seven.