The art yoga class is held in Swaswara's gallery, opposite the banyan tree. It starts at 2.15pm and the process is simple. First you take off your shoes and sit down amid a spread of brushes, oil paints and crayons. Then you relax and meditate. At a point specified by your teacher, you stop, capture the first image that comes into your mind and paint it. In my case, that turned out to be a polar bear looking for a hug.

Looking back, I'm not sure that my painting really represented the bear in my mind. The paws were quite good, I have to say, and I'm proud of the canary yellow and pink background but, ultimately, my bear just looked scared.

This was disappointing, but I still stuck the picture on the wall of my cottage. That's not something I normally do, but then I don't draw much either, nor do I meditate, in fact, or dance for 30 minutes non-stop, or swim before breakfast, or breathe deeply and calmly without being prompted.

All of these things I learned to do at Swaswara, a resort of 24 self-contained villas across 26 acres, on the Karnataka coast - a state often overlooked in favour of Goa, to the north, and Kerala, to the south.

Surrounded by woodland and arable fields, it overlooks Om beach, named for its resemblance to the Hindi symbol, the mythical sound from which the universe was created. Pass over the beach's bays and through a stretch of farmland and you reach Gokarna, a town swarming with sacred cattle and famed for its temples (it also attracts a small stream of year-round backpacker traffic).

The spiritual elements of the beach play into the ethos of the resort itself. Now entering its fourth year of business, it takes bookings of a minimum of five nights and encourages all visitors to engage fully with a programme of yoga and Ayurvedic treatments designed to help uncover your "own rhythm", which, in Kannada, the local language, translates handily as Swaswara.

Such mission statements might bring out the cynic in some, and I would normally include myself in this number. For example, when having the process of art yoga explained to me, I became convinced that a mental image would not, as was suggested by my teacher Kirit, appear spontaneously at all but that, instead, I would manufacture one, and probably something rude at that. The potential consequences of having to daub such an image in crayon worried me hugely, but, fortunately, it didn't come to pass. Once that barrier had been overcome, I became a keen practitioner of other offerings on the menu.

Alongside the emphasis on personal balance, there is a focus on sustainability. It's common nowadays for hotels to at least nod towards helping to save the planet, but not only is the message at Swaswara more strongly expressed, it's more necessary. The supply of electricity and water is never guaranteed on the subcontinent, but recent years drought among other factors has seen it become more unreliable still.

Each of the cottages is a mixture of indoor and outdoor space - the bedroom behind glass, the shower under the stars, beside it an advice card on how to save water (lather up with the water off). There's no television, and only low-energy lighting. A reservoir at the back of the plot holds the resort's water, while all solid waste is recycled, partly to fertilise the vegetable gardens.

The food - largely south Indian, with the odd Mediterranean dish thrown in - also aspires to a mantra of sustainability and is sourced locally. Every single meal I ate was incredibly fresh, flavoursome and, I noted gratefully, served in substantial portions: tuna stuffed in a snake gourd ring with pickled cocum fruit, prawns sautéed in capsicum and onion with sweet tomato paste, side dishes of cumin potatoes, mushrooms in pea sauce ... and a pudding to follow.

Although it's a comfortable, stylish hotel, the luxury elements are played down, which I thought a clever ploy, since it made me feel more of a true voyager to the centre of my self. By the same token, most bling-sporting holidaymakers are unlikely to head to a place that offers stretches instead of cocktails (there is no alcohol available on site) and is a three-hour drive from the nearest airport.

Not many Brits visit Swaswara, due, management believe, to our unfamiliarity with Ayurveda (the 4,000-year-old form of Indian medicine which is offered here) and our general reluctance to get naked - the latter generally being essential to the application of the former. As with the yoga, the aim is to develop a full week-long programme of Ayurvedic treatment that will take in a series of medicinal massages (hence the nudity) and an adapted diet (you can keep your clothes on for this bit).

I was encouraged to eat more sweet foods, including sugar and pasta, and to make sure that natural urges such as flatulence and sleeping should "neither be withheld or provoked". I did my best to follow these instructions.

As for the massage, I can tell you that I spent a happy hour naked in the company of two men buffing my muscles in perfect unison. The only disconcerting aspect of this treatment was the medicinal oil they used. Apparently concocted from a variety of secret ingredients to fit my physical requirements, it smelt so strongly of the same spices that make the food so great that I thought I was destined for the grill.

Even if you are a wellbeing cynic, Swaswara's location, with its beautifully quiet beaches, is attractive enough, but I was thoroughly inclined to embrace its ethos during my stay. I was also inclined to quit my job and take up full-time polar bear painting. But, sadly, that desire has now passed.

• A week at Swaswara with Transindus (020-8566 3739, transindus.co.uk) starts at £1,280pp, including return flights with Jet Airways from Heathrow to Goa, via Mumbai, transfers, accommodation with all meals and morning yoga sessions.