Forget hygge, this little-known Malaysian secret could be the key to happiness

We stretch our fingertips up, up, toward rosy dawn skies. Inhale deep, exhale long, in rhythm with the ocean breeze. "Now laugh as hard as you can," says Pika, our instructor. Although shattering the serenity of whispering palms and sighing waves with our LOLs seems unruly, it'll chase away any remaining negative energy, she assures us. So we guffaw, then intone a group mantra: "Su-ci-mur-ni."

In a word, that's why we're here. While the Danish have their Hygge and Hawaiians their Aloha, Malaysians find happiness in a lifestyle known as Sucimurni (pronounced soochi-morni). Loosely translated as "purity", the ancient Sucimurni way embraces holistic wellness and a good-vibes-only attitude, says Pika. "We're aiming for total positivity for your mind, body and spirit."

We've started with a morning mix of tai chi, yoga and the Malaysian martial art, silat. But we'll need more help, because hectic modern life can seriously sabotage your Sucimurni. Tanjong Jara is where you come to restore it. The resort hugs a languid crescent of creamy sand lapped by the South China Sea in Terengganu, a rural, tranquil state on Malaysia's east coast.

Lightly populated and low-key, this region is often overlooked in favour of the more developed west-coast tourist hubs like Penang and Langkawi, with the happy result that its pristine rainforests and long, empty beaches still feel secret.

The space and peace here embody Sucimurni, say our hosts, ushering us through meandering pathways among lagoons and lush gardens. It's even built into the architecture.

Tanjong Jara's graceful mahogany pavilions echo 17th-century istanas - sultans' palaces designed to harmonise with nature. Their stilts, steep pitched roofs and ornately carved gables capture the sea breezes so efficiently I can switch off the aircon in my Serambi Sea View Room.

No electrical noise - only birdsong and waves. It's bliss. I wake deeply rested and take a few barefoot steps to spotless sands stretching out on either side into faraway coastal horizons. I slip into the warm ocean, and it cradles me like a hammock as the sky flames with a spectacular sunrise.

"That's Sucimurni," confirms resident naturalist Fatiha. "Letting nature nourish you." By way of illustration, she leads us on a walk over rainforest-cloaked Jara Hill, a teeming ecosystem of food and medicine. From the hardworking pandan, hero in curries, cakes, skincare and craft, to the vitamin-rich roselle, a crimson hibiscus we met earlier in a restorative welcome drink, a supermarket of goodies surrounds us.

For everything else, there's the market in the nearby small fishing town Dungun. We wander stalls laden with sheaves of emerald veg, ruby and gold spices piled high, rainbows of tropical fruit, and fresh catch hefted straight in from boats outside.

The resort's chef Ann works the room, picking the cream of the crop. There's no menu at Tanjong Jara's flagship restaurant, Di Atas Sungai ("Above the River"). Armed with the market's bounty, Ann can work off-script, talking every diner through the day's best produce and preparing it to your taste. Stir-fried or spicy, Malay or Chinese, green prawns or sea bream, red snapper or the local speciality, mackerel nasi dagang curry - it's all delicious.

Can you eat your way to Sucimurni? Absolutely, says chef Ann. "With fresh food and fresh air, all in life is well." She's living proof - a powerhouse of positivity, pedalling around the resort's three restaurants aboard her "Lamborghini", a rickety bicycle, rustling up culinary masterpieces along the way.

People here seem plugged into their personal Sucimurni source. Some emanate serenity, like artist Mr Wan, whose meditative batik painting lessons on a poolside deck beneath the palms should be bottled as an antidote to stress.

Others return nature's generosity, like the women from conservation group Pulihara. Guardians to the vulnerable sea turtles that annually nest at Tanjong Jara's beach, they protect eggs from poachers and predators by moving them into a hatchery for safe incubation. If the timing's right, guests can watch the hatchlings emerge and make their first journey into the ocean.

Since 2016, the Pulihara team has saved more than 1300 nests and 110,000 eggs. These determined women have worked steadily and diplomatically to win over new turtle allies in the male-dominated fishing community. Soft skills, I decide, are very Sucimurni.

At the spa, a secluded haven of pools, pavilions and flitting butterflies, the traditional Malay Mandi Bunga bathing ritual promises purification, renewal and "the release of burdens carried from the outside world".

The writer was a guest of YTL Hotels and Malaysia Airlines