What it feels like to fast for 7 days

It's day 6, and I'm slowly wandering through the slightly chaotic streets of San Jose del Cabo, scanning corners and street stalls, getting lost in the fruit stands, searching for the coconut I've been dreaming of. I'm full of almost child-like anticipation and excitement for tomorrow morning because as soon as I wake up, I can finally run towards the beach from my hotel room and break my seven-day fast with the coconut.

This is my first time vacationing in the desert region of Mexico, and it was very unexpected that fruits are hard to come by. I spent about 6 hours trying to find this coconut, chatting with the street vendors, each attempting to, of course, sell me something I would never buy. Alas I found my priceless coconut. My body was very weak and so the coconut felt really heavy. Lugging it back to my hotel, I genuinely felt like a kid - like when I would get excited by seashells in the Caribbean islands and bring back buckets of them to our hotel.

It's difficult to adequately convey the experience of a prolonged fast to someone who hasn't been through one, but I'll do my best.

Throughout these seven days, spent alone in meditation at a resort in Cabo, every ordinary moment took on such great depth. I was physically very weak - walking, open the balcony door, getting into and out of bed was physically difficult - yet things felt meaningful in a way I'd never experienced before. My senses sharpened, every small detail of my environment became beautifully vivid and engaging. Simple sounds, like the rustle of a tea bag opening or the steady bubbling of boiling water; conversations of people around me, the feel of fabric on my skin, the feel of hot water on an often-shivering body, people's smiles, children's laughter - it all felt extremely real. Of course for the first couple of days, hunger was preoccupying my mind. But beyond that, it's as if I was more present in the physical space around me. There was more of me, and there was more of the world.

Time slowed down and I experienced peace like never before in my entire life. A level of tranquility and bliss that no conversation, amount of meditation, love, mindfulness has ever been able to get me to. I felt so grounded, close to physical reality, with the persistent feeling that all would be okay. The lack of food stripped any noise, anxiety, distraction I was experiencing. I was completely honed in on the present moment, in which things felt completely safe, aligned and calm.

Quiet solitude and physical discomfort brought out a stronger compassion and empathy for others. Any irritation or frustration felt like a waste, leaving only the simplicity and beauty of pure existence. Things stopped feeling large or tragic, more normal, vibrant and extraordinarily beautiful.

I felt a sense of incredible confidence restored, like I could truly do anything because I went against the strongest biological urge with such discipline.

On the final morning, I woke up at 4:30 am, walking to the still-dark beach in incredible anticipation of my coconut. I would have ran, sprinted, if I could, but even walking is difficult when you're so deprived. So taking the first sip of the water was one of the most enjoyable things I've ever experienced in my entire life. It felt as though life itself gently flowed through my body.

If you've ever fasted even for 24 hours, you've already faced the most challenging part, because the initial day is undeniably the hardest. Days two and three ease noticeably as your body gradually adjusts and transitions into ketosis. By day four, hunger and cravings are almost completely gone, and you no longer wake up feeling hungry. Days five through seven are just bliss - you're weak, exhausted, but in an undeniable state of bliss.

I decided that this is something I would do at least once a season, with shorter, 3-4 day fasts once a month. Regardless of how well I can articulate my experience, you can't fully understand until you experience it. So I encourage you to try. It's so so worth it.