How Fasting Resets Heart and Soul

Fasting is one of the most profound practices you can undertake—not just for your body, but for your entire being. It’s a biological tune-up, a spiritual recalibration, and a psychological test of discipline all rolled into one. And the best part? It doesn’t cost a thing. No fancy superfoods, no magic pills, no complicated meal plans—just the simple act of stepping back from consumption and allowing your body, mind, and heart to reset.

As a cardiologist, I could discuss at length the physiological effects of fasting—how it reduces blood pressure, improves cholesterol levels, and lowers inflammation. But fasting transcends being merely a metabolic strategy to extend lifespan. It is an ancient practice, predating our understanding of calories and insulin spikes, one that has shaped civilizations, religions, and philosophies. It’s as if our bodies were designed with fasting in mind—wired to thrive not just on food, but also in the absence of it.

One of the most fascinating processes activated by fasting is autophagy, a cellular self-cleaning mechanism that sounds like something out of a science fiction novel. When deprived of external fuel, your cells start scavenging for old, damaged components—misfolded proteins, dysfunctional mitochondria, and cellular debris. They break these down, recycle the useful parts, and discard the waste. It’s as if your body, in its infinite wisdom, realizes, “Well, if no one is delivering groceries, I might as well tidy up the house.”

For the heart, this is transformative. The heart is an organ that never rests. Unlike the digestive system, which gets breaks between meals, or the muscles, which recover after workouts, the heart keeps beating—relentlessly, tirelessly, every second of your life. Over time, it accumulates wear and tear, oxidative stress, and microscopic damage. But fasting activates repair mechanisms that help clear out old, inefficient cells, reducing inflammation and enhancing cardiovascular efficiency. It’s like giving your heart a much-needed vacation—except instead of lounging on a beach, it’s busily regenerating itself.

And this isn’t just theoretical. Studies have shown that intermittent fasting can lower resting heart rate, improve heart rate variability, and even promote the growth of new blood vessels. The heart, it turns out, likes fasting. It performs better under conditions of controlled stress, much like a person who becomes sharper and more focused under a bit of pressure.

But the real beauty of fasting lies in what it teaches us beyond the physical.

The moment you stop eating, you start noticing how much of your life revolves around food—not just actual hunger, but the idea of eating. We eat because we are bored. We eat because we are anxious. We eat because it’s lunchtime, even if we were not hungry. Fasting pulls you out of this autopilot state and forces you to ask yourself: What do I actually need?

This is why fasting has always been a central part of spiritual traditions. In Islam, fasting during Ramadan is about more than just abstaining from food and drink—it’s about cultivating Taqwa, a heightened awareness of God, of one’s actions, and of the deeper meanings behind daily habits. The Quran beautifully describes fasting as something prescribed not to punish, but to elevate:

“O you who have believed, fasting has been prescribed for you as it was prescribed for those before you, so that you may attain Taqwa.”

This concept—that fasting isn’t just about the body, but about the soul—is something science is only now beginning to understand. Neuroscientists have found that fasting increases the production of brain-derived neurotrophic factor (BDNF), a protein that enhances cognitive function, memory, and mood. Just as fasting clears out cellular waste, it also seems to clear mental fog, sharpening perception and deepening self-awareness.

Even the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) emphasized the wisdom of moderation in eating. He observed that excessive consumption is often associated with disbelief, stating, “The unbeliever eats with seven intestines, and the believer eats with one intestine.” This metaphor underscores the value of restraint and the spiritual benefits of self-control in one’s dietary habits.

It’s a remarkably practical approach, one that modern medicine now validates: overeating leads to metabolic dysfunction, inflammation, and heart disease. The Prophet’s recommendation—moderation, balance, mindfulness—has never been more relevant.

And here’s the real paradox of fasting: when you step away from food, even briefly, you return to it with a greater appreciation. That first sip of water after a fast isn’t just refreshing—it’s an experience. That first bite of food isn’t just nourishment—it’s a reminder of how much we take for granted.

In a world that encourages constant consumption—of food, information, and distractions—fasting offers something radical: the power of pause. It teaches us that we don’t always need to be full, that we don’t always need to give in to every craving, and that sometimes, in the space of emptiness, we find something far richer than what we were consuming in the first place.

Of course, fasting isn’t always easy. There are moments when your stomach growls in protest, when your energy dips, when the smell of food seems to follow you everywhere. But then, you remember that this is temporary. That hunger isn’t an emergency. That your body knows what to do. And that in letting go of excess, you’re making space for something deeper—clarity, discipline, gratitude.

So the next time you feel overwhelmed—by food, stress, or the noise of life—consider fasting. Not only might you find physical benefits, but you might also discover that absence truly does make the heart grow fonder—or at least, it makes that first post-fast meal taste like a Michelin-starred feast.

Dr Showkat Hussain Shah is Consultant Cardiologist, GMC Anantnag