Contrary to what many might assume, I had never stayed at a health retreat until recently. Not because I was avoiding introspection or terrified of lying still while someone read my aura. If anything, the idea has always appealed. The truth is, time has always been my rarest currency. Between the demands of running a business and raising a family, I simply couldn’t justify taking a week purely for myself. The guilt would have been overwhelming.
I’ve always maintained a fairly robust wellness routine. I exercise regularly, eat well, practice contrast therapy, and consume my fair share of supplements that promise everything from improved sleep to enhanced emotional resilience. And yet, the fatigue has begun to take hold. My mind never truly switches off, even when my body begs for it. My spirit, once resilient, feels weighed down by the relentlessness of modern life. I needed a reset. Not a holiday, not a pool lounger with a margarita, but something more profound.
A business trip to Bangkok created the opening. If I were already travelling, perhaps I could take five days for myself without the familiar wave of guilt. I had heard murmurs about Rakxa Wellness, a retreat combining medical precision with traditional healing in an environment designed to restore rather than merely distract. It sounded like exactly the intervention I needed.
Rakxa is set within Bang Krachao, Bangkok’s famed green lung. Only a short drive from the city, yet worlds removed. The retreat sits among lush vegetation where the loudest sounds are birdsong and the occasional hum of longtail boats on the river. Arriving feels like stepping into a softer dimension. At the entrance pavilion, a singing bowl chimes to mark the start of my stay. It is subtle but symbolic, a cue to exhale.
My villa, framed by leafy palms, created a sense of quiet luxury that felt restorative from the outset. It took only a few moments to realise how long I had been operating at a pace that left no room for stillness.
My first meeting was with my Wellness Advisor, who asked me quite bravely about my lifestyle, stress levels, sleep patterns, and emotional state. The sort of questions that make you realise you cannot remember, or just refuse to acknowledge the current state of your wellbeing. After a series of medical tests, including blood tests and body-composition scans, I was given a personalised programme that combined traditional healing with modern longevity medicine. The findings were insightful, but what impressed me most was the integrative approach. Rakxa treats the whole person, not the isolated symptoms, and every practitioner works collaboratively to create a programme that addresses both the physical and the emotional.
My schedule for the week was full, but each treatment had a distinct purpose. Appointments with Thai, Ayurvedic and Chinese medicine doctors, fitness assessments, holistic treatments, massages, cryotherapy, infrared light sessions and sound therapy. It sounds busy, but the pace left no time to think about anything outside myself or to be present, which quickly became something I leaned into. I’m used to busy schedules, focusing on everything and everyone else; this time, the schedule was to focus inward, on me.
The first major emotional breakthrough arrived courtesy of Rakxa’s Ayurvedic doctor. A serene woman with a disarming intuition, she began our pranayama session with simple breathwork. Her presence alone was grounding. As she guided me through breathwork, she spoke gently about how emotions become lodged in the body. The simplicity of her observation struck something deep. Tears came before I had time to resist them. It was unexpected but hugely relieving. It felt as though someone had finally tapped a valve I had held tightly shut.
The next day, the Thai doctor introduced me to Ya Pao. In this traditional therapy, a herbal paste is applied to the abdomen and briefly ignited to stimulate circulation and support digestion. Flames flickered in the dim room as she worked with calm precision. It sounds dramatic, yet the sensation was warm and comforting. My stomach gurgled approvingly, as if releasing something long held. I immediately booked a second session.
“Rakxa reminded me that healing does not mean escaping your life… It requires an appreciation for the nervous system that carries us through the world.”
The Chinese medicine doctor examined my tongue before performing acupuncture, using moxibustion to heat the needles and strengthen my energy. At the Gaya fitness centre, I underwent a functional assessment that revealed an unexpected imbalance in the strength of my right and left legs. It was a small discovery that I will take back home to my Pilates instructor.
Sound bowl therapy quickly became a highlight of my week. In the first session, the vibrations felt intrusive, as though every layer of tension was resisting the invitation to soften. By the fifth session, the sounds were almost silent, as they resonated more deeply. Finally I had learned to settle into the calmness, and in turn had let the vibrations work their magic within me.
Between treatments, I travelled by bicycle along shaded paths through the property. Rakxa’s three wellness zones each hold a distinct energy. Jai is a serene retreat offering traditional therapies and hydrothermal facilities. Gaya is a modern fitness facility that focuses on movement and rehabilitation. VitalLife offers longevity-focused medicine in partnership with Bumrungrad International Hospital. Together, they create a seamless ecosystem of care where every practitioner communicates, shares notes, and updates your schedule to accommodate new or to repeat treatment protocols.
The cuisine is a pivotal part of the experience. Guided by both doctors and the chef nutritionist, the menu is tailored to support your needs. I requested only Thai dishes, and the kitchen exceeded every expectation. Each meal was a beautifully composed three-course sequence, free from sugar and dairy yet full of vibrancy and flavour. Prebiotic kombucha arrived before every meal, a signature ritual that became something I looked forward to.
By the third day, something shifted. My sleep deepened. My mind quietened. The constant background buzz of tension began to loosen. I felt a lightness I had not realised I was missing. It wasn’t dramatic, but quietly powerful.
One afternoon, after acupuncture, I sat beside the lake while the sun moved across the sky. For the first time in months, I wasn’t thinking ahead or problem-solving. I was simply present. It was such a gentle feeling, and yet one that felt revolutionary.
Rakxa reminded me that healing does not require escaping your life. It requires returning to it differently with more compassion, more boundaries, and an appreciation for the nervous system that carries us through the world. Strength, I realised, is not found in constantly pushing forward. Sometimes it is found in stepping back.
When I left, I knew I would return. Not as an indulgence, but as maintenance. A way to recalibrate each year before life becomes too loud again.
I arrived depleted and left restored. Lighter, clearer, more anchored. Five days at Rakxa did what I had not managed to do for myself in years. It reminded me how to begin again.
